The trouble with the internet: people still too different

E-commerce utopia remains out of reach.

The internet knows no borders. That’s the way most people tend to view it, at least. But as online commerce comes of age, this utopian view seems increasingly naive.

As an increasing number of businesses look to take advantage of the web as a medium for commerce, not just communication, many of them are finding themselves frustrated by the fact that… well, people are different.

The recent Globalocity eCommerce conference saw several hundred retailers, Silicon Valley whizz-kids, and finance experts gather to discuss all things online shopping.

At the event I spent some considerable talking to people from a number of successful US retailers – department stores, fashion brands, even travel agencies - many of whom are very well-established global brands. It was clear that many of them were struggling with the fact that launching a globally-accessible eCommerce portal has not opened the flood gates for hoardes of overseas consumers, desperate to buy US consumer goods.

What is stopping them? Surely given the opportunity everyone would prefer to shop at US department stores, right? Perhaps... But they a good reason, and more to the point, they need to be able to pay for their goods in a way that suits them. The newsflash? Not everyone in the world has a credit card.

So, it begins to become apparent, that rolling out an eCommerce strategy is not really all that different to setting up a physical presence in new markets - minus the some substantial property and staffing costs, of course.

Businesses still need to invest in the market - understanding their consumers, not just in terms of what they wish to buy, but how they wish to buy it.

For those US retailers at Globalocity, the markets really getting the saliva flowing were Latin America (Brazil in particular), Russia and continental Europe. But frustrations abound when it comes to actually getting people to pay for things.

Anyone who has spent any time looking at the Brazilian retail sector will know that consumer spending habits can only be described as unique.

Having the ability to pay for goods in installments is essential in Brazil - people  expect to be able to spread their payment for everything (even basic goods like groceries) over a long periods of time. And a payment system - the Boleto Bancario - has been developed specifically to meet this requirement. The challenge now, though, is replicating that online.

And, of course, it is not just Brazil that requires a bespoke solution. Cash looms large in Europe and arguably more so in Russia. And of course, cash has no place in the e-commerce ecosystem. And yet again, retailers who think that offering customers the ability to pay by credit card is sufficient,  come a cropper, and quickly find out that alternatives have to be found.

The obvious alternative - cash on delivery - creates problems for the retailer, who has to ship the goods before receipt of payment, but new companies are developing neater systems, most notably the Qiwi terminals that enable Russian consumers to change cash into electronic money.

In short, every market has its quirks, and even in e-commerce, national borders are still very much in place.

James Ratcliff is Group Editor of  Cards and Payments at VRL Financial News.

Photograph: Getty Images

James Ratcliff is Group Editor of  Cards and Payments at VRL Financial News.

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear