IKEA and the Departure from Quality

As I write this, I’m walking alongside a freeway in Las Vegas, trying to work off a decent-sized helping of Swedish meatballs. I’ve just visited Las Vegas’s IKEA superstore. Why, you might ask, am I in Las Vegas? Why am I using my time to go and visit furniture stores? What’s the thing with meatballs? It being rather problematic to transport furniture as checked-in baggage on a flight from the US back home to New Zealand.

The first question is easy. I’m in Las Vegas for my annual attendance at Amazon Web Services’ annual conference. I’ve been coming to this event for over a decade, and I have so many thoughts about that, which I will share in another article. Suffice it to say that spending time with 60,000 or so Amazon customers, partners, assorted press and analysts is yet another eye-opener about the tech industry.

The second question, however, is more complex.

I’ve recently listened to a podcast all about IKEA’s business, how it was founded, how it’s grown, and what its corporate philosophy is. Essentially, from a product perspective, it can be summarized as delivering the cheapest prices possible to customers. I wanted to visit an IKEA store and, given that we don’t have them at home, Vegas seemed like a good candidate.

And on the third question, as a Scandinavian fan, I also wanted to take the opportunity to try the Swedish meatballs (with requisite lingonberry jam) at the IKEA cafe. IKEA has cheap meals at its cafes in order to encourage customers to stay in the store longer than they would otherwise.

As I walked around the IKEA store, I was blown away by just how cheap the prices are. We’re talking ten US dollars for a coffee table. It’s an insane price, and I wanted to have a look at the products to see what they do. Upon inspection, I was thinking about that old adage: you get what you pay for. To make a $10 side table means that there is very little in terms of real materials in it.

The legs are minced-up wood pulp encased in a cheap plastic coating. The top is even less solid than that, made up of a cardboard honeycomb with just enough on top and on the bottom to make it rigid. IKEA’s trademark is furniture that you assemble yourself, so it comes flat-packed and you have to screw the legs into the top.

I don’t really know what to think about it. I mean, for those on very low incomes, it does provide an accessible solution. Of course, one could argue that those on very low incomes could go thrift shopping and probably find a similar-sized table for a similar price that had already lasted decades and was built with a quality that would ensure it would last decades more.

So on the accessibility thing, I guess there is a role IKEA plays in terms of giving people access to apparently modern Scandinavian designs at exceptionally low prices.

But this is where I struggle. You see, it’s all artifice.

I’m a big fan of Scandinavian design. I actually lived in Denmark for a time, many years ago. I developed a real love affair with mid-century Danish designers: Georg Jensen, Børge Mogensen, Poul Henningsen, and the rest.

But their stock-in-trade was using novel materials and innovative manufacturing techniques at the time and producing furniture that was, yes, accessible to the masses but also high quality.

There were no Weet-Bix composites or melamine coatings for that generation. IKEA would argue that all it is doing is what these mid-century folks did, but in a modern context when technology has further developed and new approaches, materials, and techniques are available. I kind of buy that, but I kind of don’t. Anyone who has bought one of those cheap hardware store kitchens, only to have a few drops of water result in the Weet-Bix substrate blowing out and becoming unusable, will know that there is a difference between economic and just plain crappy.

IKEA is accessible, and it is undeniably cheap. On that measure, it’s providing something that no one else can. But it’s also, generally speaking, pretty crappy. I’ve sat on Danish chairs from those mid-century folks that are 80 years old and still look as good as new – both in terms of style and quality. Take an IKEA Lack table or Billy bookcase and it’s unlikely to still be standing, let-along standing strong, in a decade.

I’m a big fan of Swedish meatballs and make them at home from time to time. The IKEA meatballs were actually pretty good. When it comes to furniture, however, I also make that at home and I’m going to keep dispensing with IKEA kit in preference for something a little longer-lasting.