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To cite this article: Lene Granzau Juel-Jacobsen (2015) Aisles of life: outline of a customercentric approach to retail space management, The International Review of Retail, Distribution and
Consumer Research, 25:2, 162-180, DOI: 10.1080/09593969.2014.951676
To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/09593969.2014.951676
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may also be encouraged by the relative ease by which physical merchandise and shelf
space can be grasped, measured and gauged by the eye. Products and shelves are relatively
straightforward to comprehend and work with as they are material, concrete and tangible.
In contrast, shopping aisles are somewhat intangible and therefore less manageable, due to
the fact that shopping aisles are not defined in themselves but shaped by the surrounding
shelves and merchandise. In this sense, shopping aisles are by definition a derived size as
they follow from something else and are thus easily reduced to a side effect of shelf
arrangement and merchandise management.
The phrase aisles of life is, in effect an attempt to designate and address the
interstices, the invisible and elusive space in-between where life is always lurking and
which usually escapes description because our words refer to stabilized identities and
functioning (Stengers 2002, 245).Yet, the commercial and social value of shopping aisles
should not be underestimated even if appropriate wordings, measurements, key
performance indicators (KPIs) and ready-made management tools are lacking. Arguably,
rather than a conventional conceptualization of shopping aisles as a compromise of the
number of stock keeping units (SKUs) (cost), aisles of life are to be understood as a
potential (asset). From this perspective, the importance of paying great and careful
attention to the aisles of life is apparent; rather than minimizing the cost of space, it is a
matter of realizing the full potential of retail space.
Shopping aisles are also aisles of life in the sense that they are important social spaces
not to be disregarded. Following Lefebvre (1991), the space of conventional space
management within retail is understood as an abstract space. It is a space dominated by
instrumental rationality, homogenization and, not least, commodification. It is an abstract
space characterized and conceptualized by formal geometry and quantities, e.g. size,
distance, square metres and profit. In contrast, social space describes, according to
Lefebvre, the space of lived, concrete experience. It is a space that is inhabited, imagined,
contested and continuously constructed by social relations.1 Consequently, we should
distinguish actual physical retail space from the way we organize it, the way we think
about it and the way we live (in) it.
To be clear, many smaller retailers do indeed exhibit the ability to accommodate and
cater for social life, and only in the gridded layout of supermarkets and warehouses is
abstract space found in its most pure form. Hence, a certain size is required before a
modern division of labour is relevant, and a certain awareness of cost-efficiency must be
present before the logic of conventional space management can prevail. On the other hand,
not even the smallest boutique can claim not to be tainted and partially guided by the
modern logic and mindset of abstract space guiding conventional space management.
In sum, to the extent that retailers accept that customers are their greatest asset and thus
commit to a customer-centric approach to retail management, the raison detre of the subdiscipline space management should, I argue, be thoroughly rethought along the same line.
Space management should in other words not begin with the abstract spatial arrangement
of shelves and categorization of products as much as with the social life wanted between
them, the customer behaviour aimed at and customer experiences hoped for. Ultimately,
shopping aisles full of life are a logical prerequisite; without which it would be neither
meaningful nor profitable to discuss shelves and category optimization in the first place.
The problems of conventional space management
In themselves, shopping aisles are to repeat a mere abstraction; they are interstices, spaces
in-between, only acquiring shape, contour and presence by the build environment and
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material fixtures that surround them. On a daily basis, customers may tend to concentrate
on the merchandise on display, consequently losing sight of the intangible space that
surrounds them. Retailers are most likely preoccupied with sales optimization and the
careful arrangement of inventory and products in order to ensure maximum exposure and
turnover of products, consequently they also tend to lose sight of the interstices inbetween.
Shopping aisles suffer, in other words, from the common problem of space they are
either abstract, neutral and devoid of meaning, or simple, commonsensical and mostly
invisible to the eye, with no exact texture, form or well-defined borders. They only start
because other things stop, and end unnoticed where other things begin. As any other space,
they are a hidden dimension of social life (Hall 1969; Stengers 2002) and as such always
at risk of being overlooked and neglected.
As a discipline, traditional space management is strictly concerned with efficient and
cost-effective space utilization (Williams 1996) and is thus by definition concerned with
abstract space. Efficient space management is crucial as more sales from the same space
could lead to increased margins and ultimately to higher revenue. The typical
measurement of space performance is sales per square metre, also known as space
productivity. With limited shelf space available in retail, a profitable deployment of space
easily becomes reduced to a question of efficient strategies for merchandise and category
management. In this context, space management involves careful placement of products
on shelves and organization of categories within each store in order to generate greater
sales (Bezawada et al. 2009). Clearly, from the perspective of abstract space, the space
inbetween risks the fate of becoming secondary, if not neglected.
In particular, supermarkets and larger (lower price) retail chains with a significant
number of SKUs need to pay careful attention to efficient and cost-effective space
management. In order to generate high turnover and maximum profit, questions of which
items to stock and how to optimize limited store space are a daily preoccupation for
retailers. So too is the detailed arrangement of shelf space: what amount of space to
allocate to an item? and which location to designate to the item on the shelf? Sophisticated
models of shelf optimization have been developed (e.g. ACNielsens Spaceman). They
have proven valuable tools in optimizing sales potential, although with clear limitations.
The almost endless and changing number of possible combinations of categories, facings,
and shelf placements make it impossible to find a final and indisputable solution for shelf
optimization and product placement. With an average number of 38,718 items or SKUs
carried in an average American supermarket in 2010, the potential number of category
combinations and placements is next to endless (Food Marketing Institute 2013).2 Hence,
what we have are spatial practices handed down by tradition, reasonable guesses of
optimization based both on sophisticated category management software and on a number
of contingent choices between categories.
Efficient and careful utilization and management of shelf space the space for products
is clearly of utmost importance; it is here the so-called first moment of truth is played out,
where up to 70% of buying decisions are made (Lofgren 2005; Huang et al., forthcoming).
Yet, of equal importance is the management of the invisible space inbetween the space
inbetween which is not only difficult to gauge any clear value of, but equally difficult to see,
touch and manage. Yet, it is no less real and important, it only suffers from the fact that
products tend to steal the centre of attention in daily retail operation.
To expose an optimal number of products to a maximum number of customers in the
minimum amount of space may be an exercise in itself, but it is only a single aspect of the
importance of managing retail spaces. Having operation in mind, effective replenishment
and security must necessarily influence the layout too, which are some of the familiar
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Admittedly, the service encounter has attracted much scholarly interest within service
management, examining customer employee encounters as well as customer customer
interaction (Bitner, Booms, and Tetreault 1990; Teboul 2006), but with a tendency
to stress social interaction and to downplay the surrounding space, thus highlighting
only the first part of social space (i.e. social), leaving the latter (i.e. space) very
much to conventional space management. However, when the necessity of going to the
physical brick-and-mortar store is taken out of the equation a tendency which the
growing e-commerce stimulates, for instance the question of the attractiveness of
the built environment moves necessarily to the centre of attention. Even if it is possible to
optimize sales per square metre by rearranging merchandise, the continuous success of a
store will, at the end of the day, rely on the quality of the social space and thus on how
many customers it is able to attract, satisfy and make return.
Thus, we need to be able to grasp how to attract customers in store by means of the
built environment and the social space within, the two single factors that really stand out
from online stores. In this light, space is not so much a cost as an asset. From the
perspective of the customer, retail space is a resource with the potential of framing,
materializing and enhancing the shopping experience and social life. It can make them
visit, stay longer and want to return and even return more frequently. In other words,
managing retail spaces wisely and strategically is perhaps less about optimizing space
allocation and more about creating attractive retail environments and enabling
a (profitable) social life in between.
To be clear, in a daily retail operation a careful balance between sales space efficiency
on the one hand and customer experience on the other is a well-known dilemma,
constantly negotiated between, say, logistics and customer service. Likewise there is a
trade-off between the SKU count and spaciousness. However, the dilemma may be framed
falsely in the first place: there is no simple and logically necessary contradiction between a
large SKU count and a great customer experience. Even if we tend to think of luxury stores
as spacious and discount stores as compact, it would not make sense to claim, for instance,
that the experience of the narrow and cramped alleys in Venice, Italy are less enjoyable
than that of the wide modern network of Brasilia, Brazil. Density of people, goods and
opportunities has again and again proved to be one of the defining qualities of urban life; to
compare, a large supermarket with only a handful of goods on display is alarming, as one
may recall from visiting the former Soviet Union.
That is to say, the problem of abstract space versus social space is not to be reduced to
a simple question of the SKU count and square metres. That would be misleading. Rather,
we need to rephrase the problem and pay careful attention as to how retail space is
managed best and not only how it is managed most efficiently. The problem of
conventional space management is, in sum, the preoccupation with objective space only,
typically reflected in the measurements of space productivity such as sales per square
metre, which by definition assigns no value to the customer experience of retail space.
In searching for guiding principles for retail design and alternative measurements of space
management that take customer experience as a starting point, urban design studies may
prove fruitful place to start.
In search of attractive retail spaces
If retail space management is to take a true customer-centric turn, as the concepts of
servicescapes, atmospherics and customer experience management have long
promised (Kotler 1973; Bitner 1992; Wakefield and Blodgett 1996; Sherry 1998), then an
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adjusted vocabulary and measurement should develop accordingly, and many retail spaces
should be rebuilt to accommodate customers over products. A first step in that direction is
to initiate an understanding of the interplay between customers and retail spaces as well as
to introduce a supplement to conventional space management: a new type of space
management that will be less occupied with the categorization and arrangement of
merchandise and allocation of shelf space3 and more interested in welcoming customers
inbetween shelves and displays; a space management that perceives the concept of aisles
of life not as an oddity but as a quality, very similar to the street life we have learned to
appreciate in the city.
Despite obvious organizational differences between a private retail space and a public
city, shopping aisles are, in fact, as important for retail as streets are for the city, if only
because aisles and streets are the preconditions of any social life to take place: Think
about a city and what comes to mind?, asked the distinguished urban planner Jacobs
(1958, 29) rhetorically with a voice that has ever since echoed within urban design studies,
and she answered unequivocally: Its streets. Jacobs did so at a point in time where the
importance of streets and street life had a tendency towards neglect and ignorance within
urban planning, more than often resulting in troubled inner cities. The focus of urban
planning had gradually shifted towards efficient transportation networks and monumental
signature buildings, at best treating the social life as a side effect, at worst neglecting urban
life altogether. The result was space-efficient but it also desolated inner cities.
Hence, it is no coincidence that it has become standard to think of urban life in terms of
street life today, pointing precisely to the material anchoring of social life within cities, if
only because there would be no city without streets or at least it would be a deserted,
eerie and ghostly city that most people felt wary of; an essentially unpleasant or boring city
that people rushed through; a transit city into which people only ventured forth out of
necessity. It is tempting to term such a place a supermarket city.
Disagreement on how to build urban streets and public spaces and for which purposes
and which uses are frequent. Some argue that they should facilitate civic engagement and
serve the community (Sennett 1990, 1991); others that they are best developed by the
market forces, in the end serving the many for a prosperous future (Deffner and Liouris
2005), but in either case, it is recognized that citizens and customers alike vote with their
feet. They utilize spaces that fit their likings or speak to their needs. Certainly, they not
only tend to visit good-quality social spaces, but they also visit them for a longer period of
time and visit them more frequently; they do not visit spaces that negate their likings and
preferences. In the latter case, research has demonstrated that they simply avoid these
spaces altogether or rush through for necessary errands only (Whyte 1980; Gehl [2004]
2011). It is precisely from this vital law of social gravity which took urban planning
numerous years to realize that retail space management can learn.4
Thus for good reasons, the street holds, today, an almost mythical status within urban
studies: The street is the river of life of the city, a place where we come together, the
pathway to the center (Whyte [1988] 2009, 7). In fact, within urban studies, it often makes
more sense to speak of a city of streets than of a city of buildings (Fyfe 1998). It would be
no exaggeration to claim that without streets, there would be no city. In a similar vein,
without shopping aisles there would be no supermarket, no department store, in fact no
store at all at least not a physical store. Although this fact is easily forgotten and
neglected, no retail setting made of bricks and mortar is feasible without shopping aisles,
as they give space to customer flow and movements, shape a certain way of consumer
life (shopping) and at the same time they accommodate customer wishes, needs and, at
best, dreams.
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Similar to shopping aisles, urban streets serve at least three purposes: that of
circulation and traffic (abstract space), built frontage (buildings/shelves) and that of public
life (social space) (Marshall 2004). In generalized and equally simplified terms, the three
purposes of urban streets were disentangled and compartmentalized during the modernism
movement within urban planning in the sense that engineers were given responsibility for
efficient traffic flow and architects concentrated on sculpturing monumental buildings,
consequently both lost sight of the public life somewhere inbetween. This resulted without
much variation in desolated and abandoned inner cities (Jacobs 1961; Mumford 1975;
Gehl [2004] 2011; Southworth and Ben-Joseph 2003). In a similar vein, this risk of neglect
is also reflected and institutionalized in common retail job descriptions, where the
category manager, merchandise manager and logistic manager will each secure optimal
SKUs, shelf and space arrangement respectively, while the responsibility of shopping
aisles falls somewhere inbetween.
One of the emblematic failures of urban planning during modernism was to separate
and segregate various functions of and in the city. It was an act of the form of rationality
valuing functionality over form, efficiency over aesthetics, and order over pleasure (Jacobs
1958; Sennett 1990; Lofland 1973, 1998). The obsession with the standardization and
rationalization of much urban space that characterized a large amount of modern
architecture and urban planning resulted in an impoverished street life at the same time as
making any sense of place difficult.
Spaces created only for the act of passing by generates a sense of placelessness worthy
of the term non-place, coined by Auge (1995) to describe spaces where no memorable
experiences are formed, no lasting social relations established and no moral ties are bound.
As the worst thinkable supermarket, these spaces are designed for people passing through
only out of necessity. Hence, it may be appropriate to repeat what architects and urban
planners have learned through years of mistaken regeneration and planning: Urban
plannings 50 unfortunate years meant that urban life just was not taken seriously. You do
not create a city by placing individual buildings in a row; your departure point has to be
life (Gehl [2004] 2011, 19).
In a similar vein, we may not create attractive stores and retail settings by organizing
shelves and placing goods according to sale and space optimization only; the point of
departure for any retail setting with aspirations towards attracting customers continuously
and increasingly has to be customer behaviour and the social life we want to take place.
We need to take as a starting point the assumption that voluntary, recreational and
pleasurable activities take place not when the built environment merely allows and
tolerates them but especially when they directly and indirectly promote and invite them.
However, where urban planners may be pleased with attracting people, obviously
retailers cannot afford to be satisfied with visitors only, but need to think in terms of
conversion rates that is, ultimately, in terms of profitability. Arguably, in reality urban
planning faces a similar struggle, balancing pure civic motives versus profit interests such
as real estate and the tourism industry (Punter 2003; Ratcliffe, Stubbs, and Shepherd
2005). In comparison, a demarcated and well-defined retail space is only less complex and
more controllable. Nevertheless, any difference between public and private interest does
not change the fundamental fact that retailers need to attract visitors before they can
convert them into buyers, and, thus, are subjected to the same social dynamics as the city.5
Ever since the unintended consequences of the modernism movement became
apparent, a countermovement of architects and urban planners emerged, who were eager
to see urban street life flourish again. For this reason they became highly interested in
identifying the characteristics of attractive spaces, which still offer a solid starting point
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for reconsidering, designing and managing spaces with human life in mind. Without
customers it would make no sense to manage and optimize retail spaces in the first place.
As simple as this statement might be, it is remarkable that so little retail space management
has taken the aisles of life thoroughly into account.
What attracts people most, it would appear, is other people, wrote Whyte (1980, 225)
in the seminal study of The social life in small urban spaces, and he continued, If I
belabor the point it is because many urban spaces are being designed as if the opposite
were true, and that what people liked best were the places that they stay away from. Time
and time again it has been documented that people attract people more than anything else
(Feinberg et al. 1989; Gehl 2010); but despite that fact, we continue to build urban spaces
that are more for showcasing buildings, just as many retail settings, such a supermarkets,
are obviously built more for the replenishment of stock and showcasing of goods than they
are for the very customers they presuppose.
If we are to understand the aisles of life, if we have ambitions of attracting customers
and keeping them in store for longer, we need to understand first and foremost the odd law
of social magnetism: that social life to a great extent is self-reinforcing. Social activities of
almost any kind are the most important factors of the attraction of any given place (Lofland
1973, 1998, 87; Gehl [2004] 2011, 21 27).
Take, for instance, grocery shopping, which at first sight serves a practical, mundane and
straightforward purpose, yet for some people grocery shopping is mainly a socially
acceptable excuse and justification for venturing out among people (Miller 1998; Gehl
[2004] 2011).While again, for others, grocery shopping may just be a necessary transaction
yet at times it gives an unintended opportunity for social interaction and pleasurable
experiences which prolong the duration of the shopping trip and thus, as a side effect,
increases the likelihood of spending (Donovan et al. 1994; Turley and Milliman 2000).
The urban architect Gehl ([2004] 2011) distinguishes precisely between necessary and
voluntary activities in urban spaces. On the one hand, necessary activities include those
that, as the name suggests, are necessary and to some extent compulsory; going to work,
taking the bus, doing grocery shopping, buying milk, etc. These types of activities are only
minimally affected by the quality of the built environment as they are difficult to avoid all
together. However, in an uninviting environment, chores tend to be minimized both in
frequency and duration.
Voluntary activities, on the other hand, are closely related to the quality of the built
environment. Numerous studies have shown that if the built environment is inviting,
pleasurable and accommodating, the duration of necessary activities will be prolonged and
the frequency of voluntary and unplanned activities will increase significantly. A good
city is like a good party; guests are staying because they are enjoying themselves. In other
words, under the right circumstances and in the right settings the purposeful errand easily
turns into a pleasurable and prolonged shopping experience. Instead of rushing home from
work, we may take a break at the cafe on the way, enjoying the urban scene; the daily
grocery shopping may turn into a longer shopping spree, and the milk is joined by a soft
drink on the conveyor belt at the checkout.
No wonder urban planners have been preoccupied with creating attractive spaces,
knowing that fairly simple principles of urban design have the potential to influence the
frequency, duration and diversity of social activities in urban and similar spaces. Other
things being equal, this of course increases consumption and spending patterns as well. All
the more peculiar, then, that retailers hitherto have not been committed to the social space
of retail settings to the extent it deserves (Feinberg et al. 1989). In urban studies it is well
known that consumption very often is nothing but a side effect of a prospering social life.
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functionally accessible but are designed with social interaction and activities in mind,
allowing everyone to attend the party, so to speak (Truesdale 2003; Maisel 2006).
Proposition I. To measure a retail setting by its degree of visit-ability may well prove to be
a profitable choice for the retailer who caters for customers rather than for (suppliers of)
goods. In fact, greeting people by conscious design choices may prove as profitable as
impulse-buying items at the till; it may even contribute to the return visit of the customer,
but most importantly accessibility or in a stricter sense visit-ability is a precondition
for people to enter and thus lies at the very core of any customer-centric space design and
management.
To exemplify, benchmarks of visit-ability in retail settings could be as follows:
. ease of finding a parking space,
. visual transparency of entrance and facade.
Destin-ability
Any destination is marked by some sort of landmark whether in concrete, physical form or
imagined; most often they are both (Urry 1990, 1995). The meaning of the term
landmark runs from describing a specific physical feature that is merely recognizable to
the much more ambitious designation of an entire place of interest. A landmark may serve
at least three purposes: first, it works as a point of reference in space that eases navigation
and wayfinding (Lynch 1960). In this sense, the entrance and the checkout are typical instore landmarks. Second, in a more subtle sense a landmark serves as a place to gather
around and find shelter in. Research has shown that people prefer to sit or stand around
clearly marked-off landmarks a fountain, a monument, and a clock tower are examples
that work well in an urban context (Whyte 1980; Gehl [2004] 2011). If the landmark
invites social interaction as well, it tends to work even better. A playground, a grand
staircase and a sculpture for climbing are examples of good features that usually succeed
in attracting people for a longer period of time (Jacobs 1958; Lynch 1960). Curiously,
there are few examples of in-store landmarks that invite social interactions beyond the
purposeful transaction at the counter or checkout. Third, the landmark may even be an
attraction or destination in itself, something to be seen, touched and/or discussed. If it is
photogenic in addition, it strengthens the social magnetism of people (and as a spin-off
pictures will most likely get uploaded on social networks promoting the landmark in
question) (Urry 1990). The latter kinds of landmarks are probably more frequent in the city
than in retail, but a spectacular Christmas display is an example of a recurrent in-store
attraction, just as a department store as Harrods in London and Macys in New York may
serve as destinations in themselves. The profit potential of destin-ability lies, basically, in
prolonging the duration of the shopping trip due to a broadening of reasons for going to the
local supermarket from the necessary and well-defined singular errand to the less restricted
purpose of visiting a pleasurable destination. If customers are guided by in-store
landmarks rather than the need for a carton of milk, the chances are that retailers are
speaking to the pleasure-seeking shopper rather than the purposeful, also recognizing the
fact that a destination is not made up of a single carton of milk. Curiously, supermarkets
are built on the exact opposite premise: people shop out of necessity (e.g. need for milk)
and in an attempt to present to them as many unnecessary products as possible along the
way, the milk is placed inconveniently at the very back of the supermarket. Clearly, destinability and inconvenience are guided by different socio-spatial logics.
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Proposition II. A retail setting that takes destin-ability as a guiding model for space
management will succeed not only in catering for social interaction, but in attracting more
customers, increasing the duration and frequency of visits and hence most likely the
money spent.
To exemplify, benchmarks of destin-ability in retail settings could be as follows:
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. number and quality of built-in breathing spaces (again, square metre is less
important than number of users),
. number and quality of structures for resting, both physically and mentally.
Walk-ability
If urban spaces are made for vehicles primarily, public life is quickly lost among private
cars, and social interaction is limited to high-speed encounters and a quasi-private
sociability (Urry 2000, 58). In physical stores, the importance of securing walk-ability
goes without saying; that is what shopping aisles are primarily for. Walkable spaces built
for pedestrians, social encounters and activities are also characterized by being relatively
small in size. Smaller spaces tend to be conceived as relatively more intimate, friendly and
warm; they are, so to speak, designed with a human scale and speed in mind (Mumford
1964, 8; Gehl [2004] 2011, 2010).8 This works for both horizontal and vertical measures.
Relatively small-scale streets and aisles make it easier for the customer to gauge the
(perceived) whole at the same time as the customer is allowed to pay attention to details
(Jacobs 1958; Gehl 2010; Ingold 2004). To avoid any misunderstanding, to build on a
small scale does not equal small stores; a city can be large in size but mainly built on a
small scale such as Venice, Paris or London. When it comes to the walk-ability of
shopping aisles and other social shopping spaces, it is first and foremost the perception of
the customer that counts. As with streets, long, straight aisles may easily be conceived as
endless as in a tunnel view and consequently turn walking and shopping into a toil, a
hardship. The same distance can easily be traversed by the customer, even more slowly,
but with an entirely different evaluation, if only the route is interesting enough, offering
variation and visual closed endpoints (Jacobs 1958; Gehl [2004] 2011).
More importantly, to ensure walk-ability, streets and aisles should lead to where the
customer wants to go, not to where the retailer hopes for. In the city, people demonstrate
on a daily basis that they cut corners, walk next to stairs if they are deemed unsuitable,
people choose their way to suit them (Gehl [2004] 2011). It would be nave to believe that
the retailer should succeed in forcing customers along a predefined route without
consequences. Either customers cut the route short, traversing only half the shopping
aisles, as recent research has revealed (Larson, Bradlow, and Fader 2005) or if forcefully
led by a mousetrap they tend towards feeling trapped and frequent visits are consequently
minimized or avoided altogether (Varley and Rafiq 2004; Morgan 2008; Bell and
Ternus 2011). Thus within a split second shopping can turn from a voluntary, pleasurable
stroll to a necessary marathon; which by implication means that much of the joy has been
removed. Walkability may be as fundamental for space management as accessibility, and
is directly related to profitability, as the exposure of products per minute is prolonged as
the speed by which the customer traverse the store is reduced. Given that product
impressions take time, the likelihood of influencing consumer choices is improved by
increased walkability (and comfort-ability). To compare, traditional space management
focusing on a higher SKU count as the measurement of space efficiency implies that the
number of product exposures within the same time frame is increased. If walkability is not
given considerable attention, the result is most likely to be that customers will rush through
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the store and, consequently, more shelf space is needed to attract the same amount of
attention.9
Proposition IV. Building retail spaces with walk-ability and the human scale in mind will
most likely result in customers both walking longer distances and spending more time
traversing the same objective space. From this perspective, convenience and walk-ability
may in fact contradict each other in retail space management.
To exemplify, benchmarks of walk-ability in retail settings could be as follows:
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arcade (Benjamin 1999), hotel (Kracauer 1999), tavern and cafe (Sennett 1992), taxi dance
hall (Cressey), department store (Wilson) and on a pedestrian shopping street (Jacobs) to
mention a few classics of urban studies.
Whether private or public, in either case, research has revealed a similar pattern of use
guided by what I have summarized in the five parameters: (1) Visit-ability; (2) Destinability; (3) Comfort-ability; (4) Walk-ability; and (5) Compact-ability. These five
parameters influence to a significant degree how customers vote with their feet. In contrast
to current measures of space productivity and sales per square metre, a customer-centric
space management should, in other words, not begin with the abstract spatial arrangement
of shelves and categorization of products so much as with the social life wanted between
them, the customer behaviour aimed at and customer experiences hoped for.
In reference to urban design studies, I have pointed to the possibility of creating retail
settings that are not only designed with regards to movement, transition and flow of traffic,
for showcasing suppliers categories on shelves or for the replenishment of stock; I have
argued that much potential would flow from giving prominence to customers over goods
and shelf space.
Hence, to sum up: what would happen if we moved away from conventional retail
space management towards a space management that takes a customer-centric approach as
a starting point? An initial implication for space management would be a move away from
pure operation towards a more strategic approach that still aims at maximizing sales and
profit, but also customer satisfaction. Rather than the preoccupation with the objective
allocation of square metres to products, a customer-centric space management would take
the qualitative valuation of social space as a starting point, acknowledging that one single
square metre may afford very different shopping experiences and thus have very different
sales potential depending on the five parameters proposed. Thus, the chances are, I have
argued, that we would move away from creating transit places and forgettable places, and
perhaps succeed in creating places for staying and remembering. Instead of measuring
optimization and circulation, we may find ourselves discussing spatial principles of
attraction, comfort and pleasure. As e-commerce will continue to excel in convenience,
efficiency and optimization, the physical stores may precisely need a space management
guided less by utilitarian principles and more by urban principles of social interaction and
human attraction. A customer-centric space management would speak of aisles of life not
as an oddity, but as a prerequisite for growth and future success.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the two anonymous referees for valuable suggestions and constructive
comments that have strengthened the paper considerably.
Notes
1.
According to Lefebvre (1991), social space is continuously produced by the three moments of
production of space: spatial practice, representations of space and spaces of representations.
A discussion of spatiality therefore encompasses the physical world, the mental world and a
social construction of space. These three worlds are both separate and have interconnections
between all of them.
2. http://www.fmi.org/research-resources/supermarket-facts
3. For example, a practical guide to retail space management suggests the following:
The first step in developing a store layout is to understand the logic that forms the basis of
defining and creating product categories by answering the following questions:
A) What is a category?
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
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