What is it about Sainsbury's?

Another impressive performance.

As expected Sainsbury’s has notched up another impressive performance across its full financial year, with LFL sales up by 1.8 per cent and profit growth in line with City expectations.  

A key driver of this success has been the development of Sainsbury’s own-label architecture, which has afforded it the ability to flex its offer to fragmenting consumer demand which has seen the simultaneous growth of both the value and premium ends of the food market. Its Basics and Taste the Difference sub-brands address the polar ends of the market well, while the re-launch of its mid-tier By Sainsbury’s sub-brand has appealed to shoppers seeking price competitive alternatives to branded products. 

This balanced positioning has been complemented by targeted discounting, that encourages loyalty without widespread damage to margins. Sainsbury’s has notably achieved this through its Brand Match and leveraging its Nectar card programme for sales promotions. Moreover, while Tesco’s Price Promise offers a functional threat to footfall, "value-for-money" is at the heart of the Sainsbury’s DNA, as part of its Live Well for Less push. This is evident in creative campaigns such as "Feed Your Family For A Fiver", that have served to strengthen value credentials.

Taken together, the well segmented range and the targeted promotional activity is insulating Sainsbury’s in a climate where consumer loyalty is fickle and hard discounters are excelling.

Supporting these brand developments has been a store strategy which is suited to emerging market dynamics.  Sainsbury’s has traditionally had less of a focus on hypermarket formats compared to Asda and Tesco and has thus not been as impacted by the more negative performance of these store types. Instead its convenience-led strategy has paid dividends, with sales growing 17 per cent across this format, following the opening of a further 87 convenience stores during the year.

Wider afield, Sainsbury’s is also reaping the rewards for investments in its supply chain and procurement systems. Its close relationships with farmers, which has included an investment of £40 m in Farmer Development Groups since 2006, has ensured it has traceability and integrity. This helped Sainsbury’s avoid being engulfed in the horsemeat scandal, as many of its competitions were. 

Sainsbury’s also has a compelling growth story to tell in other areas of its business. Annual online grocery sales are now approaching £1billion, growing nearly 20 per cent over the year. Elsewhere, its non-food offer is relatively immature compared to its supermarket competitors; its general merchandise and clothing sales continue to grow at more than twice the rate of food, offering future scope for growth. In addition, with the announcement that the it is acquiring Lloyds Banking Group’s 50 per cent shareholding in Sainsbury’s Bank, Sainsbury’s has further opportunities to further leverage its brand loyalty at a time when consumers still lack confidence in core financial institutions.

On the horizon, Sainsbury’s does face both immediate and longer term challenges. Strong comparatives will undoubtedly provide a challenge, particularly considering the wider economic backdrop. Tesco’s resurgence is also a threat, as its own investment programme in own brand, store strategy and price competitiveness gathers pace. More pertinently, rumours of chief executive Justin King’s departure,  have caused some uncertainty among investors. That said for now at least, its proactive approach to evolving shopping trends leaves it ideally placed to make further market share gains.

Photograph: Getty Images

 Managing Director of Conlumino

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How Donald Trump is slouching towards the Republican nomination

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb.

In America, you can judge a crowd by its merchandise. Outside the Connecticut Convention Centre in Hartford, frail old men and brawny moms are selling “your Trump 45 football jerseys”, “your hats”, “your campaign buttons”. But the hottest item is a T-shirt bearing the slogan “Hillary sucks . . . but not like Monica!” and, on the back: “Trump that bitch!” Inside, beyond the checkpoint manned by the Transportation Security Administration and the secret service (“Good!” the man next to me says, when he sees the agents), is a family whose three kids, two of them girls, are wearing the Monica shirt.

Other people are content with the shirts they arrived in (“Waterboarding – baptising terrorists with freedom” and “If you don’t BLEED red, white and blue, take your bitch ass home!”). There are 80 chairs penned off for the elderly but everyone else is standing: guys in motorcycle and military gear, their arms folded; aspiring deal-makers, suited, on cellphones; giggling high-school fatsos, dressed fresh from the couch, grabbing M&M’s and Doritos from the movie-theatre-style concession stands. So many baseball hats; deep, bellicose chants of “Build the wall!” and “USA!”. (And, to the same rhythm, “Don-ald J!”)

A grizzled man in camouflage pants and combat boots, whose T-shirt – “Connecticut Militia III%” – confirms him as a member of the “patriot” movement, is talking to a zealous young girl in a short skirt, who came in dancing to “Uptown Girl”.

“Yeah, we were there for Operation American Spring,” he says. “Louis Farrakhan’s rally of hate . . .”

“And you’re a veteran?” she asks. “Thank you so much!”

Three hours will pass. A retired US marine will take the rostrum to growl, “God bless America – hoo-rah!”; “Uptown Girl” will play many more times (much like his speeches, Donald J’s playlist consists of a few items, repeated endlessly), before Trump finally looms in and asks the crowd: “Is this the greatest place on Earth?”

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb. Only a minority within a minority of Americans, it was assumed, could possibly be stupid enough to think a Trump presidency was a good idea. He won New Hampshire and South Carolina with over 30 per cent of the Republican vote, then took almost 46 per cent in Nevada. When he cleaned up on Super Tuesday in March, he was just shy of 50 per cent in Massachusetts; a week later, he took 47 per cent of the votes in Mississippi.

His rivals, who are useless individually, were meant to co-operate with each other and the national party to deny him the nomination. But Trump won four out of the five key states being contested on “Super-Duper Tuesday” on 15 March. Then, as talk turned to persuading and co-opting his delegates behind the scenes, Trump won New York with 60 per cent.

Now, the campaign is trying to present Trump as more “presidential”. According to his new manager, Paul Manafort, this requires him to appear in “more formal settings” – without, of course, diluting “the unique magic of Trump”. But whether or not he can resist denouncing the GOP and the “corrupt” primary system, and alluding to violence if he is baulked at at the convention, the new Trump will be much the same as the old.

Back in Hartford: “The Republicans wanna play cute with us, right? If I don’t make it, you’re gonna have millions of people that don’t vote for a Republican. They’re not gonna vote at all,” says Trump. “Hopefully that’s all, OK? Hopefully that’s all, but they’re very, very angry.”

This anger, which can supposedly be turned on anyone who gets in the way, has mainly been vented, so far, on the protesters who disrupt Trump’s rallies. “We’re not gonna be the dummies that lose all of our jobs now. We’re gonna be the smart ones. Oh, do you have one over there? There’s one of the dummies . . .”

There is a frenzied fluttering of Trump placards, off to his right. “Get ’em out! . . . Don’t hurt ’em – see how nice I am? . . . They really impede freedom of speech and it’s a disgrace. But the good news is, folks, it won’t be long. We’re just not taking it and it won’t be long.”

It is their removal by police, at Trump’s ostentatious behest, that causes the disruption, rather than the scarcely audible protesters. He seems to realise this, suddenly: “We should just let ’em . . . I’ll talk right over them, there’s no problem!” But it’s impossible to leave the protesters where they are, because it would not be safe. His crowd is too vicious.

Exit Trump, after exactly half an hour, inclusive of the many interruptions. His people seem uplifted but, out on the street, they are ambushed by a large counter-demonstration, with a booming drum and warlike banners and standards (“Black Lives Matter”; an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, holding aloft Trump’s severed head). Here is the rest of the world, the real American world: young people, beautiful people, more female than male, every shade of skin colour. “F*** Donald Trump!” they chant.

After a horrified split-second, the Trump crowd, massively more numerous, rallies with “USA!” and – perplexingly, since one of the main themes of the speech it has just heard was the lack of jobs in Connecticut – “Get a job!” The two sides then mingle, unobstructed by police. Slanging matches break out that seem in every instance to humiliate the Trump supporter. “Go to college!” one demands. “Man, I am in college, I’m doin’ lovely!”

There is no violence, only this: some black boys are dancing, with liquid moves, to the sound of the drum. Four young Trump guys counter by stripping to their waists and jouncing around madly, their skin greenish-yellow under the street lights, screaming about the building of the wall. There was no alcohol inside; they’re drunk on whatever it is – the elixir of fascism, the unique magic of Trump. It’s a hyper but not at all happy drunk.

As with every other moment of the Trump campaign so far, it would have been merely some grade of the cringeworthy – the embarrassing, the revolting, the pitiful – were Trump not slouching closer and closer, with each of these moments, to his nomination. 

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism