People used to go into a shop, buy a shirt and go home. Now we browse ten brands for the same shirt and ask “which one makes me feel the most?” It is only a shirt, so why do we put ourselves through this? In this piece I want to wander a little through how the changing political and economic climate in Turkey, Europe and the US is reshaping the experience economy.
When economies began to stumble and politics grew tense, what we call experience began to change too. In Turkey, I would say the new motto of the experience economy is “I’m glad I can still afford it.” For people struggling with inflation, insecurity and youth unemployment, experience has become less a luxury than a shelter, even an escape route. In Europe, after migration pressures, a search for security and the energy crisis, a turn towards simplicity is growing; experiences are fewer but more meaningful. In the US, cultural polarisation is politicising experience. What a brand stands for is becoming more important than what it offers; just as in Turkey, people look at which side a brand is winking at.
Experience is no longer only a feeling; it is a stance and a choice. People care about why they choose as much as what they choose. That is why experience is now expected to carry meaning as well as make people feel good.
For Hannah Arendt, freedom becomes visible in the public realm. When that public realm comes under pressure, people prefer to become invisible, and so do brands. Bold voices give way to sterile communication; nobody wants to be misunderstood, because it may come at a price, and it probably will. In such a climate, customer experience also becomes more controlled and more cautious. Brands think “the less risk, the more peace”, and experience turns from a passion into a protocol.
Employee experience is no different. When the ground of psychological safety shifts, innovation stumbles too. People try to protect their positions rather than their ideas, and the most creative ideas stay trapped in tea-break conversations.
In the short term, people go quiet; experience gives way to withdrawal for a while. In the medium term, they look for other routes. Quiet quitting rises, and people look for meaning in their own individual projects rather than in the experience organisations offer. Consumers simplify their experiences too, turning towards ones that are quiet, unpretentious and sincere.
Amid so much pressure and turbulence, can experience still create value? Perhaps more than ever. Experience is at heart a way of building a story, and stories mean the most in times of chaos. When freedom shrinks, making meaning becomes more precious. That is why, for brands and organisations, experience design can move beyond a marketing strategy and become an ethical stance, a way of existing.
I think the new ground of the experience economy is less about entertaining customers and more about honouring people. Sometimes it is a small smile, sometimes giving an employee confidence, sometimes simply being able to say “I’m here and I hear you.” Perhaps that is what experience really is. What does your brand say to people in hard times?