Every packet is a vote

A corner shop in Shubra has a wire stand by the door, crowded with small packets of crisps, wafers and biscuits from a dozen makers. A boy on his way home from school stands in front of it for longer than seems reasonable, then picks one.

Nobody asked him anything. He did not fill in a form. But the shopkeeper will notice which gap on the stand empties first and order more of it, the wholesaler will notice the order, and somewhere a factory will make a little more of one flavour and a little less of another. His choice travels further than he knows.

That is what a market with real choice does. It listens, cheaply and all the time, to millions of small decisions nobody would ever bother to report.

It only listens while there is a choice to make. And a good deal of business effort goes into making sure there is not. The stand that holds one maker's products because of a deal at the door. The account that is easy to open and tiresome to close. The bundle that makes leaving cost more than staying. Customers with fewer options stay longer and argue less, which is why so many companies work towards them.

Some businesses serve the demand that is already there. Some go out and build demand that was not. And some, once they hold it, take away the alternatives so the question never gets asked again.

That last kind wins for a while. But a market with no alternatives stops telling anyone anything. The boy still walks out with a packet, but it is no longer a choice, so it is no longer a signal.

The crowded stand is untidy, and it is easy to lose without anyone noticing. Once it has gone, nobody is listening any more.