Dialogue: Loyalty for sale if price is right

By SANDY BURGHAM

As a teenager surviving on pocket money and holiday jobbing, I began scheming my entree to the world of flatting.

Having decided that the only way I was going to accumulate the stuff I needed was to win it in competitions, I embarked on a cunning plan: in the normal course of shopping and consuming, I would buy only brands that offered competitions and prize draws. Although the big one always seemed to elude me I was happy with the stash of tennis rackets, monogrammed jackets and free samples I ended up with. There's nothing sweeter than getting something free.

Today in the supermarket I noticed a glut of entry forms gathering dust on a table behind the checkout counters, a half-hearted gesture to those who can be bothered providing marketers with a short-term lift in sales.

Now there are more sophisticated ways in which we are bribed into consuming more and feeling happy about it - reward point schemes and loyalty clubs.

Gone are the days when honesty, reliability, and excellence in product delivery were all one needed to attain a loyal customer base. Now, any repeat purchase must answer to the shameless consumer demand, "What's in it for me?" Consumers aren't proud - their friendship and loyalty to a retailer, credit card or brand can easily be bought if the price is right and the rewards flow.

Cleaning out my purse, I discover it's bulging - not because of an accumulation of cash but with an almost unhealthy number of cards for loyalty clubs I seem to have unwittingly joined.

Everyone thinks they've locked me in - the drycleaner, the bookstore, the pizza guy, the CD outlet, and the petrol station, even my local wine merchants are in on the act. But do they realise I am but a promiscuous shopper who'll sign up with anyone?

It starts off innocently enough. They invite you to join the club with an air of pomp and self-importance more akin to the Northern Club than the contact-lens-solution manufacturer they represent. Then they cleverly stamp out two of the 10 gaping spaces, emphasising that after just 8 more purchases you'll get a free one. Free. It's the marketing buzzword that gets us every time.

Now that the retail mantra, "Do you have a Fly Buys card?" is uttered more frequently than "Do you want fries with that?" simple transactions are overcomplicated as we negotiate our various points systems for maximum value.

I even tried to pull off a tricky move whereby I would pay off one credit card with the other, scooping up both rewards systems. Sadly, my bank manager soon put the kibosh on that scam.

Let's take air points, which surely must be the king of loyalty schemes. Stories abound of punters flying across the Tasman and back in a day to qualify for a long-haul upgrade on a later planned flight. Return trips to London are being re-routed through South America - all for the sake of more air points.

We are inadvertently teaching our kids that loyalty has a price tag. Even the 9-year-old boys who have the contract to clean my car, offer me a "four washes, get the fifth free" deal.

Our daughter, who is not at school yet, has started her own collection of loyalty clubs. Taking advantage of having a brother in disposable nappies, she painstakingly cuts out the points coupons on the back of nappy packs, saving them up to cash in on another plastic toy she doesn't need. She is an air points member already and although she can't yet fluently, opportunistic airlines send her information regarding hot companion ticket offers if she books before April 30.

Loyalty points are an insidious way of encouraging us to happily spend more while being mentally prepared for an impending retirement in poverty. It's like coupon cutting gone mad.

I rarely complete the 10 stamps on my wee card that I need to redeem the free CD. By stamp eight, I seem to start another card in another compartment of my purse. Sometimes with the same retailer. Surely there's a simpler way to save - could we not pool resources with friends in a club cards syndicate, ensuring that at least one person benefits.

Then again, it would be so much easier if things were just cheaper.

When will we ever learn there's no such thing as a free lunch?