High Street 2020: Apple stores and glorified post offices

Stephanie Clifford of the New York Times reports on the growing trend of retailers using their brick-and-mortar stores to gain an advantage over online-only shops like Amazon, taking advantage of easier delivery, more comforting payment mechanisms, and the ability to browse:

In April, Walmart began allowing shoppers to order merchandise online and pay for it with cash at a store when they picked it up.

Even without the cash option, in the six years since Walmart has allowed online items to be picked up in stores, customer demand has been high. More than half of the sales from Walmart.com are now picked up at Walmart stores, Mr. Anderson said.

With the cash option, Walmart was trying to appeal to customers who did not have bank accounts or credit cards. Walmart says the majority of in-store purchases are made with cash or debit cards, and that about 15 percent are made with credit cards.

Retailers have varying motivations for doing this. Clifford discusses the Container Store, an American chain that sells containers (brand simplicity, there):

The Container Store has also been pushing a drive-through service, a reflection of its altered approach to online shopping. Initially, executives viewed the pick-up-in-store feature as a way to draw consumers into stores and encourage customers to buy more. Now, they would rather close the deal on an online order as soon as possible so shoppers do not go elsewhere or forgo the merchandise altogether.

The piece ends with Alison Jatlow Levy, a retail consultant at management consultants Kurt Salmon predicting a convergence, with physical stores moving more and more towards a "showroom" model, and online-only retailers opening stores for the same purpose.

That may be the case in the medium-term, as the two styles of retailing meet at an equilibrium, but it seems unlikely to last. A physical location is a tremendous fixed cost to run, and while Clifford gives many stories of tangential benefits from doing so, none of them seem game-changing. If a business already have a chain of stores and a website, merging the two in the many ways described seems like a no-brainer. But if it doesn't, it's hard to see how the bottom line would actually be affected in any way but negatively.

What seems more likely is that as many of the benefits which can be abstracted from the cost of running a shop will be. As Felix Salmon points out, there are advantages to retailers in being able to take cash payments, even for online orders, and having somewhere to ship bulky goods for collection seems to be popular as well. But both of those things require little more than a posh version of the Post Office; somewhere which can handle the more methodical side of the transaction for a number of businesses at once. And such companies already exist.

All that would leave is the showroom aspect of the physical store. Can any company gain enough extra sales through physical viewing of items to make up for the extraordinary increase in cost? There are probably a few categories where the answer is yes.

The most obvious is products that are already sold in showrooms due to the high cost of the goods: cars, boats, motorbikes and so on. Things which people really need to see and touch before buying, and which are so valuable that a single sale can make a day. There's a second advantage as well, which is that cars are so bulky that the showroom essentially doubles as the warehouse. A car retailer which decided to move online only would still need to have physical premises almost as large, just not in quite as expensive a location.

Clothes are the other clear winners. People still really like being able to try on things before they buy. But the problem for many retailers is that you can go to, say, Office to try on some shoes, then buy it from a cheaper retailer online. Office loses a sale, but still pays for the advertising.

The solution to that is retailers like Apple. Famously, the company doesn't care if people go into their shops purely to use them for the free internet; their aim is to get as many people using Macs, iPads and so on as possible. That doesn't mean that it isn't relentlessly sales focused – it is – but if, at the end of a trip to an Apple store, you go home and buy a MacBook from Amazon, it still gets the sale. Apple stores are just as much about advertising as retail.

It doesn't paint a particularly rosy picture for the high street of the future – lots of high-end, single-brand stores peppered with glorified post offices – but it's probably better than the alternative thesis, where everything becomes a coffee shop.

A Meerkat posts a letter. This definitely relates to the content of the article. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war