Discount TrapConfessions of an Advertising Man

Look at the aisles, see the "Soap Wars" rage. A thousand "cents-off" coupons on every single page. The makers were panicked, they were losing the fight. Cutting the price in the middle of the night. They trained the consumer to be a bargain-hunter soul. Giving up the "Grand Design" just to hit a weekly goal. The brand was a ghost, just a number on a shelf. A "miserable duffer" cheating even himself. It’s the Discount Trap, a drug in the vein. Short-term pleasure for the long-term pain. Once you start cutting, you can never stop. Training the customer to wait for the drop. Then came the Commander, with the beard and the class. Handing out a Schweppes in a crystal-clear glass. We didn't offer pennies, we offered something deep. A "complex symbol" that the customer could keep. It's the label, the price, and the story you tell. Fusing into magic that the "toadies" can't sell. "The consumer isn't a moron, she’s your wife". She wants a "personality" to brighten her life. Any fool can slash a price, any coward can flee. But it takes a "Wizard" to build the prestige you see. The brand is a person—it’s got a soul and a face. If you cut the price, you’re just erasing the trace. You’re selling the future, you’re buying your grave. The Discount Trap makes every master a slave. Build the image, build the heat. Or stay a generic "nobody" on the street. It’s the Discount Trap, a drug in the vein. Short-term pleasure for the long-term pain. Once you start cutting, you can never stop. Training the customer to wait for the drop. It’s the Discount Trap