Ikea Sets its Eyes on Reuse
Ikea wants you to forget everything you know. Despite being famous for flimsy product, it now believes the future is all about reuse.
A huge global brand, Ikea has more than 422 stores in 50 markets and sells over 9,500 products. It is well known for its snappy furniture designs, massive stores, affordable prices, and DIY at-home assembly. It helped make ‘flat pack furniture,’ something commonly known for its mass production and low quality, irresistible to young consumers. IKEA shoppers dominate the mid-20s-mid 30s demographic. Though IKEA bristles at being considered disposable, it is now calling attention to its need to ‘close the loop.’ Modern speak for recapturing product–often headed to landfill–while strategically creating new growth channels through rentals, take backs and repairs. With nearly ten million tons of furniture being landfilled annually, according to the EPA, and with western consumers hitting peak home furnishings, according to Ikea’s Head of Sustainability, their program wants to catalyze sales and growth through reusing, refurbishing, remanufacturing, and recycling.
“Ikea has a good design team,” says Michael Engle of Revue Furnishings, which focuses on Antique Restoration and Furniture Refinishing, located in Oakland, California, “but its quality is for a throw-away society.” His criticism stems from Ikea’s lack of durability, mainly from its use of particle board—glued together wood chips pressed between layers of veneer. The pieces are often held in place by locking cams that can shake loose with too much use or movement. Product failure is built into the construction, he says, since you can’t put nails or screws in it. “The best part about Ikea is their Swedish meatballs and lunch specials.”
Another local craftsman agreed but offered a different angle. Cyrus M. (who declined to give his last name), is the proprietor of Giocomo, a furniture design, custom upholstery and slipcover business located in Berkekely, CA. In twenty years, I’ve never been asked to repair or reupholster a piece of Ikea furniture, he said. It’s not economical and it won’t be anywhere in the U.S., he says, since it will take 20-30 hours of labor, plus yardage for fabric–it will cost at least $500, and they likely didn’t pay that much for it. He can see slipcovers as a possible path forward for Ikea as they move towards reuse-based models. Unlike traditional reupholstery, customized slipcovers are a modular approach that’s more economical. “It’s like a tight fighting jacket with zippers and Velcro,” he said. The furniture needs to start in good condition and be durable enough to handle repeated re-assembly; however, once the pattern exists, new slipcovers can be sewn anytime and sent in the mail, an easy way to refresh and extend the life of furniture.
Overall, Cyrus is not optimistic about Ikea’s ability to convert its customer base. The local high tech culture wants new things, brand names, he says. He thinks people’s priorities are elsewhere when they spend so little on furniture. Though he can envision the program launching with a big bang, and can see motivated customers supporting it, he expects everyone else will revert to their usual behavior after a year.
Could customers conditioned to a “throwaway society” be a barrier to circular solutions Alexandra Seidel asks in her student thesis, Closing the Loop: Exploring IKEA’s Transition to the Circular Economy. “Consumers’ demand for goods with circular features, such as upgradability or repairability, has lessened,’ she wrote. This dynamic is spurred by cheap and easy access to mass produced products. Now, ‘wealthy societies and consumers’ perceive fixing worn out goods as too much hassle and at too high of a cost relative to the price of a new replacement.
Consumer guilt over the lack of a product’s shelf life is alive in Ikea customers. Though good pickles, a cheap lunch, and kitchen supplies are her repeat draws to the Ikea in Emeryville, Cerca, age 52, who declined to give her last name, said she did buy a foldable sofa a year and half ago that she is very happy with. But, she notes, it was purchased for her mountain cabin and is not intended for everyday use. “I think it depends on what you are looking for. If you want high quality, then Ikea is not for you.“ She had not heard of Ikea’s shift towards a more circular model, but responded very enthusiastically, at first. “Reusable and repairable, I am all for it. I would potentially buy more but I don’t think it’s possible, because it is mass production.”
Across the aisle in the parking lot, Mark Blake, a 31 year old software engineer, was about to unload a dresser he had purchased online. It didn’t fit in his house and he was there to replace it with storage totes. “I think Ikea furniture will fall apart in a year,” he said. Blake thinks Ikea makes sense to meet temporary needs, “but, if this is something that is going to be a part of my house for a long time, I’m probably not going to choose Ikea.” He considers sustainability in most purchasing decisions but Ikea’s push towards reparability was baffling: “I am trying to figure out how they are going to fix their sawdust and glue methodology. Particle board is just inherently unrepairable. All you can do is take more wood and dust and lay another veneer on it.”
Looking past its reputation for short-lived wares, Ikea is busy piloting circular-focused projects with customers around the world. Last fall, customers in Canada brought back gently-used items in exchange for store credit. In Switzerland, they piloted a subscription furniture program. And new product offerings made from recycling wood and foil from recycled PET bottles demonstrate how they wish to grow sales while trying to reduce impact. Their footprint is large: Ikea is responsible for “nearly 1% of all wood used commercially around the world” according to the Guardian, and 1% of global cotton production, according to the Atlantic. At that magnitude of resource consumption, student author Seidel posits whether Ikea could ever be considered sustainable.
Meanwhile, the stakes continue to rise as consumer awareness about product disposability grows. Journalist Adam Mint’s new book, “Secondhand,” casts the conversation as a “global crisis of stuff.” After two years of reporting on the 100 billion pounds of “unwanted items” Americans discard every year, he concludes: “If you want to reduce the environmental impact of your consumption, the best way to do that is to not manufacture more stuff. In that sense, the best thing you can do is not buy more stuff.” Companies have taken a different tact, encouraging consumption while they work to marry business models with closed-loop production.
Engle, who lives in the next town over from the Emeryille Ikea, recounted a time when his clients became emotional after seeing how beautiful their refinished piece turned out. “I don’t think people cry over Ikea.” Ikea hopes someday they will.
