Retail

There will be more retail change in the next 10 years than in the past 50. David shares some of the issues so you are on the right side of the curve.

You gave the agent hands. Did you notice it also has your keys?

3 September 2026

Three REST endpoints. Twenty million SKUs. And, if you are not careful, the run of your entire home directory.

The promise being sold for agentic commerce this week is that your shopping bot has a brain and now needs hands. Nobody is putting on the slide what those hands can reach.

The brain-and-hands line comes from CloudStore AI, whose promotion promises to turn any shopping agent into what it calls “a doer”: catalogue, checkout and logistics across 400-plus merchants and 20 million-plus SKUs through three endpoints. It arrives in the same month that Cloudflare launched, on Fortune’s reporting, a permanent identity and wallet for AI agents, with optional guardrails: spending limits and a whitelist of merchants where your agents are allowed to shop. Cloudflare’s own executive told Fortune the first wave will be developers and AI firms buying data, with ordinary consumers a second wave still to come.

Hold those two next to a quieter one. A developer, writing up an afternoon of paranoia, described running a shell tool for his coding agent and only then stopping to ask what “give your AI agent a shell” means at the level of the operating system. His answer, in his own words: the tool “has everything you have because it is you.” SSH keys, cloud credentials, the whole writable home directory, no audit trail. The post is titled, plainly, “AI Agent Has Root”.

Put the three together and you have the real shape of agentic commerce. Not a smarter shopper. A new account holder at the checkout who is not a person.

I have given that instant a name: the Machine Moment of Truth. P&G’s A.G. Lafley gave us the First Moment of Truth at the shelf in 2005. Google’s Jim Lecinski gave us the Zero Moment of Truth at the search results in 2011. Both belonged to the shopper. A hand on the pack, eyes on the ten blue links. The Machine Moment of Truth is the first one that does not. The machine hands the buyer no menu to judge. It returns a verdict, delivered with certainty, and the buyer takes it as the answer. It is the moment the buyer stops choosing and the machine chooses for them.

That is why the hands matter more than the brain. For more than a century the shopper on the other side of your checkout was a human being with a human’s frictions: a moment of hesitation, a second thought at the payment screen, a weakness for a well-placed offer. Retail was built to work on that hesitation. The agent has none of it. It does not linger, it does not take the extended warranty, and it does not forgive a clumsy returns policy. It executes. Every pound spent on persuading a person at the point of sale is aimed at a moment that is quietly moving out of reach.

Now follow the incentives, because that is where the story always lives. Whoever issues the wallet and holds the identity sits between the shopper and every merchant on the whitelist. That is not a payments feature. That is the introduction, owned. Cloudflare is not building a shop. It is building the thing that decides which shops an agent is even permitted to enter. The merchant that is not on the list does not lose the sale. It never gets asked.

The security point is not a footnote. It is the commercial risk. A retailer taking agent traffic is accepting orders from software that, on the developer’s own account, may be running with the full permissions of whoever deployed it. A compromised agent does not abandon a basket. It empties one, at machine speed, across every merchant it can reach, and the fraud desk built for stolen card numbers has never seen that pattern. The limits and the whitelist are not consumer niceties. They are the seatbelts, and they are optional.

Watch who gets to sit in the wallet layer, because that is the new gatekeeper. Watch, too, whether the standards emerging in the West borrow anything from China, where Alipay and WeChat Pay proved long ago that whoever holds identity and settlement holds the ecosystem. The West is about to relearn that lesson through a bot instead of a person.

The Roth Read. Stop asking whether your store is ready for AI shoppers. Ask the colder question: when an agent arrives at your checkout carrying your customer’s credentials and possibly root on its own machine, do you know whether it is friend or foe, and who told you so. The Machine Moment of Truth is already happening, in answers you cannot see, at a speed you cannot interrupt. The hands are here. Decide now whose keys they hold, because the merchant who waves them through blind will not lose a sale. They will lose control of the counter.

The carmakers ran out of margin. So they went looking for a body.

1 September 2026

Read the balance sheet, not the backflip

A car company does not raise nine hundred million dollars for a robot because the robot is ready. It raises it because the car has stopped paying, and everyone in Shenzhen can read the same balance sheet.

This week Xpeng’s robotics unit raised more than $900 million at a post-money valuation above $6.3 billion, in a round led by IDG Capital with Tencent, Alibaba and Gaorong Ventures alongside. The company calls it the largest single private financing ever recorded in China’s embodied AI industry. It is not alone. AiMOGA, the robotics arm of Chery, is reported by Reuters to be preparing an IPO. BYD has unveiled a humanoid called Xiao Di. Changan, GAC, Li Auto, SAIC and Seres are all, per industry reports, building humanoids of their own.

The Western press files this as China chasing Tesla. Read the quote that matters instead. Michael Dunne of Dunne Insights, a man who has spent his career inside this market, told TechCrunch why Xpeng’s founder moved: “He sees razor-thin profit in cars on the near horizon. Robots look much more promising.” That is not ambition talking. That is a man doing arithmetic.

Now the part worth arguing with. A car is not naturally a commodity. It became one for these companies because they let it become one. A brand is a feeling, a badge, a way of being read at the school gates, and every point of that feeling is a point of price you do not have to give away. In China’s EV war some manufacturers gave it  away anyway, quarter after quarter, until the only ground left to fight on was cost. Once a company reaches that ground it is no longer a carmaker. It is a contract manufacturer of batteries, motors and control systems on wheels, and a humanoid is the same components in a different shape. Which is exactly Dunne’s point: “They have all the hardware to get the job done.” Batteries, actuators, motors, the control stack, all of it flows straight out of a mature EV supply chain that the West does not have and cannot conjure in a quarter.

So the structural lesson is this. When your product is treated as a commodity you cannot defend the margin, so you move the factory to the next product that still has one. The supply chain turns out to be the asset and the vehicle was only its current shape. A country that owns the batteries and the motors can change that shape far faster than a country that owns only the software.

But look at what a brand actually buys in that story. It buys the choice to stay. The manufacturers whose badge still commands a premium are not scrambling into robotics, because their cars still pay them. Brand is the thing that stops a category collapsing into cost, and it is the cheapest insurance a manufacturer will ever hold. The Chinese groups now pivoting are not proof that brand stopped mattering. They are proof of what it costs when you stop investing in it.

The other gap cuts both ways. Dunne names it plainly: the question is whether they can catch Tesla, and by extension the American labs, “on the AI side of the equation.” Hardware is China’s, for now. The brain is still contested. But notice which problem is easier to buy your way out of. You can hire researchers. You cannot hire a decade of battery plants.

For anyone running a store, the read is sharper still. The moment a humanoid works on a shop floor or in a stockroom, the retailer’s biggest line of cost stops being staff and starts being units. That is not a labour story you can hand to an HR memo. It is a question about what your store is for when the person who once greeted the customer is a leased machine amortised over three years. The answer is the same one it has always been. People go where they are known, and a machine on the floor only frees your people to do the part a machine cannot.

What to Watch The IPO, not the demo. AiMOGA filing to go public is the real signal, because a prospectus forces the question every backflip video dodges: where does the money come from, and when. A robot that can dance is a hobby. A robot with a revenue line is a business. The market is about to make several of these companies write the number down.

The Roth Read. Stop watching China’s robots and start reading China’s balance sheets, because the carmakers already have. The humanoid is rarely the threat. It is the tell: somebody with a better cost base is about to enter your category wearing a new shape, and they can only do it because that category let its brands become interchangeable. So ask which of your rivals owns the supply chain. Then ask the harder question. If your badge came off your product tomorrow, would anyone still pay more for it? That answer is the margin you are actually defending, and it is the only one nobody can build a factory to take from you.

America finally cracked live shopping. It did the opposite of what China did.

27 August 2026

I have long been a strong supporter of live shopping. I have seen the Chinese ecosystem firsthand and understand how finely tuned it is. My argument has always been that it can travel beyond China, but only if it is retuned for a western psychology.

For four years the received wisdom in Silicon Valley was that it would not travel at all. Facebook closed its live shopping feature in October 2022. Instagram followed five months later. Amazon Live limped on, described by one analyst in the Chinese tech press as content so awkward most users did not know it existed. The verdict looked settled. China had Li Jiaqi and a live-commerce market worth 4.9 trillion yuan in 2023, close to a third of everything the country bought online. America had a shrug.

Today 833 million people, three quarters of China’s internet users, watch livestreaming. And the category the West wrote off has found its form in the least likely place. A company started in Los Angeles in 2019, selling big-headed plastic figurines, has just raised 545 million dollars at a 20 billion dollar valuation. Whatnot sold 8 billion dollars of goods in 2025. In the first half of 2026 alone it passed that entire figure again, a full year’s trade in six months. And here is the number that should stop any western retailer cold: its users watch for more than 80 minutes a day. That is not shopping behaviour. That is closer to Netflix.

What matters is not that America can do live shopping after all. It is that the American winner looks nothing like the Chinese one.

China built live commerce on a single mechanism. The platform owns the traffic and routes it to a handful of superhosts who convert it. The platform decides who is seen, and the host holding that visibility holds the leverage. It is efficient, it is enormous, and it is fragile, because it started to rest on a few individuals and the terms set for them.

Whatnot inverted it. There is no superhost. There is a golf-gear seller who did not know how to switch the stream on until his viewers taught him, and who then sold over 100,000 dollars of clubs in a single six-hour session. There is a 25-year-old with no degree whose business now turns over more than a million dollars a week. There is a trading-card shop in Florida that went from two staff to thirty-nine. Not one star pulling a crowd, but thousands of small communities pulling their own.

The distinction runs deeper than personnel. TikTok Shop, the other American contender, is discovery commerce. The algorithm decides what you did not know you wanted, and short video, not live, does most of the selling. That is advertising economics wearing a shopping cart. Whatnot is the reverse. The buyer arrives already knowing what they love, a sneaker, a sports card, a vintage bag, and the auction is where the tribe transacts. Not attention converted into sales. Passion given a till.

Three models, one sentence. China sells through the few. TikTok sells through the feed. Whatnot sells through the crowd.

The question now being asked, in Shanghai as much as in San Francisco, is which of those is actually the healthier ecosystem. Growth that depends on no single star does not wobble when a host defects or a contract sours. It compounds. Western retailers spent four years concluding that live shopping was un-American, and missed this entirely, because they were asking the wrong question. They asked whether America would copy China. The answer was no. America found a different physics.

What to watch. Whether the model survives category expansion. Whatnot grew up in collectibles, where scarcity and community are native. Groceries and electronics have neither. If the auction energy holds as the catalogue broadens, the community model is genuinely general. If it curdles into another marketplace, the moat was the hobbyists all along.

The Roth Read. Stop asking whether your customers will watch a livestream. Ask who is doing the selling, and whether they belong to your brand or to a community you do not control. The work is not casting a host. It is finding the communities already trading in your category and earning a place among them. China bet everything on a handful of stars. America bet on the crowd, and the crowd does not sign with a rival next quarter. If your live-commerce plan has one face on it, you have built the fragile version.

The robot you never see is the one already picking your order

11 August 2026

Ask people what a robot looks like and they picture a face, two legs, a hand that waves. The robot that actually touches your life has none of those. It is a squat orange trolley in a warehouse in eastern China, and it has probably already handled something you ordered this week.

The BBC went inside a facility run by Geek+, which it describes as the world’s largest supplier of autonomous mobile warehouse robots. The pictures are undramatic on purpose: fleets of low, flat machines gliding under shelves, lifting them, carrying the whole rack to a human who picks the item and sends it on. A company executive put the honest part plainly. The early challenge, he said, was getting customers to believe such robots could create real value. That belief problem is now solved. The market has moved from proving the idea to buying it at scale.

Here is why that matters more than any humanoid demo you saw this month. The debate about robots and work keeps staging itself as a confrontation: the machine that walks in and takes the job. That is the wrong picture. The real displacement does not arrive on two legs and announce itself. It arrives as a floor plan. It arrives as a warehouse redesigned around the machine, where the human is no longer the picker but the exception the machine defers to, the pair of hands that handles what the shelf-carrier cannot. The work does not vanish. It is quietly rewritten, and the terms of the rewrite are set by whoever supplies the robots.

Right now, increasingly, that is China. Not because of some sudden leap in cleverness, but for reasons that are structural and dull and therefore durable. China builds the motors, the batteries and the chassis at a cost and speed no one else matches, and it deploys at a scale that turns every warehouse into a live test bed. Geek+ did not win the global warehouse by inventing a wheel. It won by iterating faster, shipping cheaper, and running more robots in more buildings than anyone else, until the learning compounded. While the West argued about whether automation was ethical, the fulfilment centre behind your Saturday delivery was quietly being run from Suzhou.

For anyone who runs a retail operation, this is the uncomfortable truth beneath the humanoid theatre. The efficiency that lets a rival undercut you on delivery speed and price is not visible on the shop floor and not printed on the box. It is upstream, in a building you will never tour, powered by machines you did not choose and cannot easily match. Your customer feels only the outcome: it came faster, it cost less. They will never know a robot did it, and they will not care. That is precisely the point. The most consequential robot is the one that has been designed to disappear.

And the jobs question deserves better than the two lazy answers. It is not the robot apocalypse, and it is not the comforting line that new work always appears. It is a redistribution of who holds the skill and who holds the leverage. The warehouse worker becomes a supervisor of throughput, faster to train and easier to replace, while the value migrates to the software and the supplier. A society that wants good work out of this has to fight for it deliberately. It will not fall out of the machine on its own.

What to watch. Watch the gap between the robots we photograph and the robots we buy. The humanoids get the headlines and the funding rounds; the wheeled workhorses get the contracts. When a Western retailer announces a fulfilment upgrade this year, read the fine print for whose robots are inside. The name on the invoice is the real story.

The Roth Read. Stop watching the robot that waves. Watch the one that hides. If the efficiency that beats you on price and speed is built into a warehouse you have never seen, running on machines from a supplier you never chose, then your competitive edge is already being set by someone else’s floor plan, and you should decide today whether you are going to own that layer or rent it.

Forget the backflips. China is teaching robots to clock in.

6 August 2026

For years the story from China’s robotics labs came with a soundtrack: a whir of servos, a crowd gasping, a humanoid landing a backflip. Impressive. Also beside the point. The signal this week is quieter and far more consequential. In an underground lab in Beijing, and on a training floor in Hefei, China has stopped asking whether its robots can dance. It is asking whether they can work.

A Chinese robotics firm, Gaobot, put the case plainly to camera this week: for decades industrial robots have done one thing, thousands of times, on a fixed program. Bolt here. Weld there. Repeat. What China now wants is a machine that can handle the mess of a real factory, the odd angle, the dropped part, the job nobody bothered to write a routine for. On 6 August, at a pre-training ground for embodied intelligence in Hefei, 83 robots from different companies were put through more than thirty replicated real-world scenes: the home, the shop floor, the warehouse. Not a demo. A rehearsal for employment.

The numbers behind this are not modest. IDC expects China’s spending on embodied intelligence to climb from 1.4 billion US dollars to 77 billion over five years, a compound growth rate near 94 per cent. Embodied AI has, for the first time, been written into the national government work report. Unitree, which shipped 5,500 humanoids last year, more than anyone on earth, has filed to go public. The language coming out of the sector is telling: 2026 is being called the year of mass-production commercialisation, the year the work leaves the lab.

Here is why a retailer should read this over their coffee, not skim past it. The West has spent this year debating the humanoid as spectacle and as threat: will it take my job, can it fold my laundry, is it safe. China has quietly reframed the question as a supply-chain one. A machine that follows a fixed program is a tool. A machine that learns a new task from watching, that adapts to a scene it has not seen, is closer to labour. And labour, unlike tooling, scales into every corner of an economy: the stockroom, the loading bay, the shop floor at closing time.

Notice, too, where these robots are being sold. Unitree and AgiBot are not just filing IPOs; they are opening shops. A flagship store in Beijing. An Agibot deployment inside a JD MALL in Shanghai, fitted out as a retail complex, around five million yuan of investment in a single store. The West imagines robots arriving through the factory door. China is building the retail entrance first, letting the public meet the machine over the counter, where familiarity, and demand, are made. Dobot has gone further still, launching a humanoid pitched at the young family and the home.

The mechanism matters, and it is not magic. China’s edge is structural: the batteries, the motors, the rare earths, the assembly lines sit inside the same borders as the labs. When the New Yorker’s Kai-Fu Lee says the two countries are now “two different universes,” this is the concrete meaning of it. One universe is arguing about what the robot might mean. The other is collecting the training data, thirty scenes at a time, and pricing the shelf space.

What to watch. Watch the training grounds, not the trade shows. WAIC gives you the polished demo; the Hefei data-collection floor gives you the roadmap. When a single site is running 83 robots across warehouse, shop and home scenes, the next headline is not a better backflip. It is a purchase order.

The Roth Read. Stop watching Chinese robots for the trick and start watching them for the task. If your competitor’s stockroom is being rehearsed on a training floor in Hefei this year, you do not have a technology question, you have a cost-base question, and it is already being answered without you. The West is grading these machines on whether they can amaze us. China is grading them on whether they can be hired.

China did not spend last week building video tools. It was building eyes.

5 August 2026

Every retailer who watched three Chinese labs ship video models in seven days filed the news under marketing. Cheaper ads, faster content, a problem for the agency. Wrong drawer. What landed last week was the perception layer for the machines that will one day walk your shop floor, and it landed open, and it landed cheap.

The launches came within days of each other. ByteDance’s Seedance 2.5 now generates thirty seconds of video with sound in a single pass, holding characters, scenes and camera logic together across a whole narrative rather than one lucky shot. MiniMax’s H3 does fifteen seconds with stereo audio generated jointly rather than bolted on, and on 3 August MiniMax put the weights on Hugging Face for anyone to download. Alibaba closed the week with Qwen3.8-Max, 2.4 trillion parameters, which now sits second in the world on the public leaderboard for reading images and visual material.

So run the telescope the other way. A model that keeps thirty seconds coherent, objects that persist behind an obstacle, weight that falls the way weight falls, a cup that is still on the table after the camera moves, has not learned to draw. It has learned how the world behaves. Generation is only the exam. The syllabus is physics, permanence and consequence. And the same weights that let a machine imagine a scene let it read one.

Reading a scene, fast, in bad light, with a person moving through it, is the entire job of a robot’s eyes.

That is the triangulation, and it is why this is a retail story rather than a media one. China already holds the other two legs. By industry counts it ships the overwhelming majority of the world’s humanoid robots, and TrendForce expects Chinese output to nearly double this year, with Unitree and AgiBot taking around eighty per cent of shipments. It holds the motors, the batteries, the rare earths, and the appetite to put machines in public before the ethics committee has finished its report. What it lacked was sight worth putting behind the visor. It is now building that in the open and giving it away.

Price finishes the argument. DeepSeek’s V4-Flash update, the least photogenic of the week’s launches and probably the most consequential, costs roughly three cents to run the full Artificial Analysis intelligence battery, against $3.15 for the Western frontier. A robot has a battery, not a data centre. Perception has to be almost free before it can live inside a body on a shop floor, and last week it became almost free.

A caution worth keeping. None of this means the machine understands anything. Video models still get physics wrong in ways that are amusing in a clip and unacceptable in a machine holding a bottle near a customer’s child. A convincing picture of a grasp is not a grasp, and that distance is where the next two years of the argument will be fought.

The direction, though, is not ambiguous. The robot that eventually watches your shelves, greets your customer and judges whether that customer is confused or annoyed will not be running perception you bought from a vendor you can name. It will be running weights someone downloaded, most likely trained in China, tuned by a supplier three tiers below the name above your door. And it will still be your brand doing the looking.

What to watch. Not the next video demo, and not the next leaderboard. Watch for the moment a Chinese maker ships a robot whose perception layer is one of these video models, and says so. When those two industries start sharing a checkpoint, the cost of machine sight collapses the way the cost of machine text already has, and every question retailers assumed they had until 2030 arrives early.

The Roth Read. Stop treating AI video as a marketing line item and start asking who supplies your machines’ eyes, because you are about to buy vision the way you buy electricity: from someone else, invisibly, with no say in how it was made. Put that question on your risk register this quarter. The machine watching your customer speaks for you, whoever trained it.

China is not automating the shop. It is automating the welcome.

3 August 2026

A robot that stacks a shelf is a warehouse story. A robot that greets you, checks you in, pours your coffee and remembers your name is a brand story. China has quietly stopped building the first and started shipping the second.

The signal this week is not one launch but a pattern. Reports out of Shenzhen, amplified across social feeds, describe AI-powered service robots spreading fast through Chinese hotels, restaurants, healthcare, logistics and retail, with businesses treating automation less as a cost cut and more as a growth line. It rhymes with what else crossed the wire today: a 24-hour convenience store in Hong Kong staffed by a single robot that stocks, picks and rings you up, and a state council official confirming China now builds over half the world’s humanoid robots. The context is not incidental. It is the whole point.

What happened, tightly: the machines have moved out of the loading bay and onto the shop floor, the reception desk, the ward. They are no longer hidden infrastructure. They are the face a customer meets.

Here is why that should hold a retailer’s attention longer than any spec sheet. For thirty years we have told ourselves that the human touch is the last thing automation cannot take. The smile at the door, the recommendation from someone who knows the range, the small grace of being recognised. That was the moat. China is now testing, at national scale and in public, whether the moat was ever as deep as we claimed. When a robot checks you into a Chengdu hotel and it is faster, cheaper and unfailingly polite, the shopper does not file a complaint about the death of hospitality. The shopper checks in.

That is the uncomfortable read. The threat to Western retail was never that robots would out-lift us. It is that they might out-serve us, in exactly the moments we sold as irreplaceably human. And the reason China gets to run this experiment first is structural, not magical. It controls the supply chain that makes the hardware cheap, the motors, the batteries, the sensors. It has the manufacturing density to iterate a service robot through ten generations while a Western firm is still costing the first. And it has a culture and a regulator willing to put the thing in front of a real customer and learn in daylight. While we convened panels on the ethics of the robot host, they booked ten thousand of them into hotels.

The brand question this raises is sharper than efficiency. It is about what your welcome means. If a robot can deliver competent service, then competent service is no longer a differentiator, it is table stakes, available to every rival at the price of a subscription. What remains scarce is the thing a machine cannot yet counterfeit: judgement, warmth that reads the room, the member of staff who breaks the script because they can see you are having a bad day. That is not a reason to keep humans on the floor out of sentiment. It is a reason to redeploy them to the moments that actually move a shopper, and let the machine take the rest.

What to watch. Watch whether the Chinese service robot travels. The convenience-store test in Hong Kong is the tell, because Hong Kong is where mainland deployment meets international retail standards and demanding, cosmopolitan shoppers. If it works there, the export case writes itself, and the first Western chains to license it will not announce it as automation. They will announce it as service.

The Roth Read. Stop asking whether a robot can do your staff’s job. Ask which two minutes of your customer’s visit are so human that no machine should touch them, and whether your people are spending their day there or wasting it on the work a robot should already own. Get that wrong and you will automate the wrong half of the welcome, keeping the queue and losing the smile.

WORLDPRIDE came to New York City

1 July 2019

June 2019 WORLDPRIDE came to New York City to mark the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall uprising.

The first Pride parade, called the “Pride March,” was held on the one year anniversary of the Stonewall uprising (June 28, 1970) and has since become an annual civil rights demonstration. The march was led by Craig Rodwell, the owner of the old Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop and drew thousands of participants. Grand Marshals have included former NYC Mayor Mike Bloomberg, Dustin Lance Black, Cyndi Lauper, Edie Windsor, Jonathan Groff, Laverne Cox and Ian McKellen.

The 2019 NYC Pride March, commemorating the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Uprising, was on Sunday, June 30. The route started on 26th Street & 5th Avenue, ran  South to 8th Street, continue West along 8th Street, turning left on Christopher Street, passing Stonewall, and running back uptown along 7th Avenue, ending on 23rd Street

The 2019 March will the biggest joined by over 600 unique marching parts , representing non-profits, community organizations, corporate sponsors, small businesses, political candidates, activists and more.

See how various retailers are actively participating both in store and with unique products in this PDF.

China’s Suning Buys Carrefour China

23 June 2019

Today China’s Suning.com has announced that it will buy 80% of Carrefour China.

The deal is structured in a way that The Carrefour Group will sell 80% of its equity interest in Carrefour China to Suning.com. This is a cash transaction valuing Carrefour China at an enterprise value of €1.4 billion. The Carrefour Group will retain a 20% stake in the business and two seats out of seven on Carrefour China’s Supervisory Board. Suning has the right to buy the remaining 20% after a period.

Carrefour was a pioneer in China bring the hypermarket format to an excited Chinese Consumer in 1995.

I remember being at their first store opening and looking at the expressions of delight and amazement on the faces of Chinese consumers as they had not seen anything like this type of format or vast ranges and choice before.

Carrefour were the first western grocery and hypermarket retailer in China to realise the critical importance of trying to re-create the buzz, excitement and feeling of freshness of the Chinese wet market inside the hypermarket.

Today Carrefour has 210 hypermarkets and 24 convenience stores in China. This has generated in 2018 net sales of €3.6 billion (RMB 28.5 billion) and EBITDA of €66 million (RMB 516 million). It has had negative like for like sales – -5.9% in 2018 following -5.5 in 2017.

Other than generating needed cash for Carrefour and a China exit they were looking for, what does this transaction tell us about retail in China and globally?

Well much…

Suning.com is one of China’s leading physical and ecommerce retailers.

It has a network of over 8,881 physical stores in more than 700 cities across China from tier one’s to tier 4 and 5’s and runs the country’s 3rd largest B2C e-commerce platform.

One of the shareholder’s of Suning.com is Alibaba and this where it potentially gets really interesting…

Alibaba Group will soon have (when this deal closes after going through regulatory approval by Chinese the competition authorities (expected by December 2019) holdings in Auchan, RT-Mart and Carrefour in China as well as Suning. Alibaba invested some $4.6 Billion US Dollars for a 19.9% stake in Suning in August 2015. When Suning also agreed to invest 14 billion yuan to acquire 1.1 percent of Alibaba.

This gives Alibaba with its own growing network of physical stores called Hema / Hippo Fresh advantageous access to more physical space in China.

The first Hema store opened its physical doors in January 2016 and now has some 100+ stores across China. Consumers can buy their groceries and fresh products especially sea food both online and offline. Hema’s increasingly middle-class Chinese consumers are ordering their food for the evening on their commute home via their smart phones. Delivery is guaranteed for 30 minutes after an order has been placed if the customer lives within a 3km radius of a Hema store.

This proposition is one of the elements that Jack Mar  refers to as “New Retail”.

 

The combination of physical and virtual retailing is the key to “New Retail’s” success. Alibaba now has even move physical coverage available to rapidly accelerate its “New Retail” concepts and thinking. But whilst having physical and virtual stores is key , it’s useless unless you can digitise the entire supply chain, from growers, manufactures and every single element along the way , including the store…And that is where Alibaba “New Retail” really excels. It has a commanding lead in, thinking, technology and capability in digitising the entire supply chain and linking this to the consumer. The world outside of China should take note and learn. Whoever said physical retail is dead…

In Conversation with Garrison Macri

11 April 2019

At STREAM Commerce in Miami I interviewed a number of the key speakers and participants as part of my “In Conversation with…” series. I am very grateful to everyone who graciously participated in the recordings and were so generous in sharing their insights. Over the next few days I will publish here the individual interviews as well as the consolidated live broadcast that we took pace each day.

Todays “In conversation… is with Garrison Macri, Global Business Development, Superup