WRAP
RAGE (2006)
“Today's
packages can be murder to open,” according to a recent
headline in The
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. Consumers
are apparently having difficulty opening cell phones,
children’s toys, or even cereal packages. This phenomenon
is apparently not from some mysterious decline in
intelligence or manual dexterity. As times get tough,
packaging is getting tougher.
The result is so-called “wrap rage,” defined elsewhere as
“extreme anger caused by product packaging that is
difficult to open or manipulate.” In the first reported use
of the term, a 2004 article in The Times (London) notes the
iconic status of music CDs in consumer frustration. “The
crucible of wrap rage is, of course, the CD. It was
universally repackaged in 1992, its old cardboard box
replaced by plastic wrap with a zip-strip. The answer to
our unwrapping prayers! Yet 12 years later, a pull-tab torn
off in hand, we are still chewing through plastic like wild
dogs.”
Last week, several CDs I had ordered online arrived in the
mail. I stripped the cellophane relatively easy with my car
keys, but then I encountered an impereable strip of
adhesive along the edge of the cases. A time-wasting search
for an Exacto knife ensued. No biggie. I found the knife,
and then closure by attacking the items like a bloodcrazed
ninja.
In the annoyance stakes, music CDs are nickel and dime
stuff. Last month, Consumer
Reports announced
its first-ever “Oyster Awards” for imperviously packaged
products. First prize went to the “hard-plastic clamshell
packaging for the Uniden Digital Cordless Phone set, “
which took nine minutes and 22 seconds to open. This wasn’t
even the longest time for a product, but it was “by far the
most dangerous, requiring box cutters and a razor blade.”
And I thought it was just my partner and I. Last Christmas,
we got into a Chaplinesque tussle with an implacably
packaged action figure. Apparently some supervillain had
securely tied the cartoon character to the backing, using
twist ties and tiny bungie cords, and then imprisoned him
in a plastic forcefield -- for eternity. And that’s about
how long it felt to disengage the prize for my partner’s
nephew, who stood watching adults wrestle with a toy. The
finale of the experience is a blur, so I may have repressed
the complete memory (I have recurring dreams about
spattered eggnog and power tools).
According to a report in Australia’s Herald
Sun, a 2004
study in Britain demonstrated that injuries caused by
packaging cost the National Health Service about $25
million US a year. Noting the health costs of wrap rage to
Britons, Comedy Central’s Stephen Colbert recently mused on
the domestic costs if a similar pattern held for the US.
“I’ll just get out my new graphing calculator,” said the
show host, gnawing at the edge of the calculator’s plastic
packaging, before stabbing at it with his pen. “I’ll see
you in hell,” screamed Colbert, slamming the unopened
product down to the ground.
Children’s toys and the like are among the most securely
packaged products. Barbies are affixed tightly to ensure
they don’t arrive at the shipping dock looking like
Courtney Love on a bender. The bulletproof packaging of
consumer products apparently serves other purposes besides
keeping the items in pristine condition in transit. Making
a small item large and ungainly discourages shoplifters.
“High visibility packaging” also allows retailers to
suspend a product from a peg, leaving it to sell itself,
with little input from thinly-staffed big box stores.
There are better ways of getting things into customers’
hands. When I bought my iPod from Costco, all there was on
the display floor was a stack of plastic clamshells,
containing a glossy depiction of the device and its specs.
I picked one up and exchanged it at the cash register for
the real thing, which was contained in a small, stylish,
paper box. Great idea. As a shopping experience, it was
seamless, and a cinch -- although I know this was arranged
more for security reasons than customer satisfaction. So I
don’t hold out much hope the market will respond
significantly to a rising tide of wrap rage. Once the
transaction is done, and you’re left with something super,
encased in its own fortress of solitude, It’s pretty much a
done deal. If said item should expire during extraction
under your bleeding, trembling hands, well, them’s the
breaks. Future consumers will just have to evolve the arm
strength of orangutangs.
In our blisterpacked new world, I’m less concerned about
media-trumpeted terrors than I am about open manholes and
strewn banana peels. In other words, it’s me I’m really
afraid of. I don’t think I’ll drop from bird flu, but
there’s an outside chance I’ll impale myself on a
screwdriver
while trying to open a plastic clamshell containing X-Men’s
Wolverine.
Geoff Olson
