Shrinkflation
New cardboard boxes cost between 200 and 500 TL, depending on their size. While unfolding one from its flat state into a 3D box, I accidentally punched through it with my index finger; my finger poked right out the other side. How had I managed to puncture the box when I didn’t even have any strength? I grabbed some packing tape to seal the hole; it was so thin it rivaled the skin of an onion.
The bubble wrap seemed equally useless. The bubbles, usually meant for popping to relieve stress, made only feeble sounds when squeezed.
The only items that were thick and durable were the plastic bags sold by weight—though they reeked of the recycling process.
I tore a sheet off the giant paper roll. A piece of the next sheet came along with it; the paper was too flimsy to hold its own.
I went to blow my nose, but a single tissue pulled from the box wouldn’t suffice; nowadays, you have to pull them out two at a time.
The moment I picked up the dish soap, it squirted right into my eye. The plastic was so thin that it created the same sensation you get when you lift something expecting it to be heavy, only to find it’s incredibly light.
I looked at some supermarket bags from the 2020s that I still had at home. How thick and durable they were. Today’s bags—even though they are recyclable—only become sturdy enough to avoid bursting or tearing if you double them up, one inside the other. I wonder if there’s any point to recycling in that case.
The shrinkflation trend
This reduction in packaging—affecting food, cleaning products, cardboard, bubble wrap, and packing tape—is part of global trends known as "shrinkflation" and "downgauging" (reducing material thickness). It involves companies reducing or thinning packaging to offset rising production costs.
The term emerged in 2009 and gained traction during the 2008 crisis. It saw significant momentum in 2021–2022, driven by post-COVID supply chain issues and inflation. In the US, this affected products like toilet paper, yogurt, and coffee starting in 2022. Packaging became thinner from May 2022 onwards, as global inflation hit 7%. The trend continued into 2023–2024 in the UK, India, and Japan; examples include Nestlé coffee tins and a 10% weight reduction by Calbee. It persists into 2025–2026. Paper and plastic prices have risen due to energy costs. Complaints on X increased during 2024–2025.
How much were costs reduced?
By cutting packaging material usage by 5–15%. Switching from white paper to brown recycled paper saved 20–30%. Shorter lids and thinner cardboard reduced unit costs by 10–20%. Reducing product volume by 10–12% (e.g., 100 grams of coffee becoming 90 grams) lowers unit costs by the same proportion. In the 12 months following the size reduction, the price per unit of volume rose by 12%. The packaging market is projected to grow from $533 billion in 2025 to $564 billion in 2026. Raw material costs have risen by 20–45% since 2022.
Has this been passed on to consumer prices?
Generally, no. The logic is: downsize, reduce the quantity, but keep the price the same. Consumers get less for the same price (e.g., Gatorade going from 32 ounces to 28 while the price remains unchanged). There is less consumer backlash against downsizing than against price hikes, which is why companies choose this path. While unit price labeling is being discussed in Australia, it has not been widely adopted.
This practice is justified on grounds of sustainability and inflation, yet the consumer is the one being "downsized." Trust, too, is snapping—breaking apart at that very point of thinning. Or rather, it isn’t just snapping; trust is ceasing to be a criterion altogether, and the absence of a trusting relationship between us is becoming the new normal.