Future Trends Archives

In a trade hall packed with natural food startups and plant-based hopefuls, the mushroom drinks were among the first to sell out. Odyssey’s lion’s mane “cold brew” disappeared before lunch. Popadelics’ truffle-dusted shiitake chips were gone by midday. And when the Natural Products Expo West wrapped for the year, trend watchers were left with one clear takeaway: mushrooms have stepped into the spotlight.

What was once a fringe ingredient, used mainly in traditional medicine or tucked inside a risotto, is now breaking into every aisle of the supermarket. In the past year, US retail sales of foods and drinks featuring “super mushrooms” hit 642 million dollars, rising nearly 20 per cent according to SPINS, a retail data provider specialising in natural and wellness products. Mushroom-based teas and ready-to-drink coffees surged 250 percent. Even kombucha brands have started adding lion’s mane and chaga, with that segment growing 71 percent year-on-year.

For many shoppers, the appeal is simple. These products promise benefits like focus and energy without the sugar highs or stimulant crashes. Once limited to wellness circles, mushrooms are now part of the grocery routine. They’re showing up in coffee replacements, snack packs, and evening wind-down drinks. What started as a fringe supplement is becoming a habit.

From Folk Remedy to Modern Shelf

Long before they appeared in energy drinks and snack aisles, mushrooms were prized in ancient medicine. Reishi was known as the “mushroom of immortality” in China. In Siberia, chaga was brewed to withstand winter. Even Ötzi the Iceman carried medicinal fungi over 5,000 years ago.

These weren’t culinary choices. They were tools for stamina, clarity, and resilience. Today’s mushroom boom draws from those roots—but trades folklore for sleek packaging and science-backed positioning.

Lion’s mane is now sold for memory. Cordyceps for stamina. Reishi for sleep. Some of the science is still emerging. Yet global momentum is clear. In one year, functional mushroom supplements brought in over 396 million dollars in the US alone, according to the Nutrition Business Journal.

What was once foraged is now formulated. Mushrooms are no longer a footnote in wellness. They’re becoming fixtures in grocery carts and morning routines.

The Brands Leading the Charge

Momentum in the mushroom category is not driven by a single breakout product but by a wave of innovation across beverages, snacks, supplements, and alternative proteins. This is not a health food aisle phenomenon. It is happening at scale, across national chains and direct-to-consumer platforms, with products designed to meet shoppers where they are.

In Finland, Four Sigmatic was among the first to position mushrooms as an everyday wellness tool. The company, founded by a group of foragers and biohackers, built an early following through niche communities. Today, its products are carried in over 7,000 stores across the United States, including Target, Whole Foods, Sprouts, and Walmart. Sales have surpassed 200 million dollars. Its lion’s mane coffee sachets, reishi hot cacao blends, and adaptogenic protein powders are no longer sold on novelty. They are merchandised on functionality, with new packaging focused on outcomes like “Think,” “Calm,” and “Defend.”

Odyssey Elixir, based in Los Angeles, has taken a more caffeinated path. The company produces sparkling beverages infused with lion’s mane and cordyceps, positioned as a clean energy alternative for younger consumers who are moving away from sugary sodas and synthetic ingredients. In 2023, Odyssey sold nearly 10 million cans and secured 6.3 million dollars in venture funding. Retail presence expanded rapidly, reaching over 6,000 stores, including CVS, 7-Eleven, and Publix. The brand’s founder, Scott Frohman, recalls early rejections from buyers. When Publix passed on the pitch, it was data from competitors that changed their minds and brought the brand onto shelves a few months later.

Across categories, these brands are responding to a spectrum of consumer priorities—mental focus, stress relief, indulgent snacking, and sustainable protein. Mushrooms provide a format flexible enough to meet all of them, whether brewed, blended, or jerky-dried.

In the snack aisle, Popadelics has turned shiitake mushrooms into a conversation starter. The brand launched through lifestyle marketing, placing its products in fashion boutiques and music festivals before entering grocery retail. By mid-2023, it had secured national distribution through Whole Foods. Some flavours remain backordered, a reflection of both novelty appeal and genuine demand.

Further up the supply chain, companies like Meati Foods are taking a different approach. Instead of using mushroom fruiting bodies, Meati grows mycelium, the root-like structure of fungi, as a base for alternative meat. Its steaks and cutlets are now sold in more than 7,000 stores. With more than 350 million dollars in investment and a 100,000-square-foot production facility in Colorado, the company is positioned as a contender in the race to scale sustainable protein.

These brands are not riding a single trend. They are building around a spectrum of consumer priorities, from mental focus and stress relief to indulgence and sustainable protein. Mushrooms offer a versatile base. Whether brewed, blended, baked, or dried into jerky, they are being used to create products that feel both innovative and familiar, crafted for mass retail and everyday use.

Science or Speculation

The popularity of functional mushrooms has grown faster than the body of evidence behind them. For every shopper who adds lion’s mane to their coffee for focus or chaga to a smoothie for immunity, there is still a lingering question of whether the benefits hold up under scientific scrutiny.

Research has made some progress. Lion’s mane has shown promise in small clinical studies related to cognitive support and nerve regeneration. One 2020 trial in Japan found that daily supplementation improved mild cognitive impairment among older adults. Other mushrooms have drawn interest for their immune-modulating compounds, particularly beta-glucans. In Japan, lentinan from shiitake and PSK from turkey tail are already used as adjuvant cancer therapies. These applications, however, remain outside the scope of conventional Western diets.

Image credit: Moku

In the United States, regulators have taken a cautious approach. The Food and Drug Administration has issued warning letters to brands making disease-related claims. Terms like “supports immunity” or “promotes mental clarity” are generally permitted. Anything more specific invites enforcement. This became clear in late 2024, when the agency declared Amanita muscaria, the hallucinogenic mushroom often found in “legal trip” candies and microdose gummies, as not generally recognised as safe. That designation removed the product from the food market, highlighting how quickly the line can shift between innovation and violation.

While most functional mushroom brands operate within approved boundaries, the category still lacks standardisation. There is little consistency in how extracts are processed, how doses are measured, or how active compounds are verified. This variability makes it difficult for researchers to compare outcomes, and for consumers to understand what they are buying. Experts like Dr. Julie Daoust, Chief Science Officer at M2 Ingredients, say that the future of the category will depend on clarity. “Modern wellness consumers are becoming increasingly educated,” she notes. “They want simplified products that are supported by data.”

Until more robust trials are conducted, much of the appeal will rest on experience and belief. That does not necessarily diminish the impact. In many cases, consumers are not expecting mushrooms to treat illness. They are reaching for products that feel better in the body and align with broader shifts toward clean energy, natural focus, and proactive health. For now, mushrooms sit in that quiet space between proven and promising, sold not as cure-alls, but as tools for daily performance.

Who Is Buying and Why

Functional mushrooms are no longer confined to fringe wellness circles. Today, their customer base spans from college students searching for natural focus to middle-aged parents replacing energy drinks with lion’s mane coffee. What connects them is not a demographic profile, but a shared appetite for clean-label function and the idea that food should do more than fill.

A national survey by the Nutrition Business Journal in 2024 found that 37 percent of Americans use foods or beverages enhanced with functional mushrooms. Another 27 percent report taking mushroom-based supplements. Usage is highest among Gen Z and millennials, but the interest cuts across age groups. These are not isolated early adopters. They are mainstream consumers with a growing awareness of terms like adaptogen and nootropic, many of them learning through TikTok reels or Amazon reviews rather than clinical trials.

Within that broader pool, motivations vary. Gen Z buyers are often looking for energy and focus. They are replacing sugar-heavy drinks with sparkling mushroom elixirs like Odyssey or swapping coffee for Four Sigmatic sachets that offer mental clarity without the caffeine crash. Amazon reported a 47 percent year-on-year increase in searches for adaptogens, a signal that functional terms are resonating with digital-native shoppers.

Millennials, meanwhile, are turning to mushrooms for stress support and immune resilience. The pandemic reshaped health priorities, and fungi-based products now offer a gentle, daily form of reinforcement. Reishi teas and chaga lattes are positioned as alternatives to wine or melatonin, especially for young parents navigating burnout. Familiar formats like snacks, broths, and chocolate blends continue to drive adoption.

The older end of the market is growing too. Interest in cognitive health and natural anti-inflammatory solutions is drawing Gen X and Boomers into the category. Many are less influenced by brand aesthetics and more persuaded by mainstream media coverage or endorsements from integrative doctors. When Lifeway Foods, best known for kefir, launched a mushroom beverage line in 2024, it was positioned for this segment with a focus on wellness benefits rather than trendy packaging.

These consumer groups are distinct, but the unifying thread is trust. People want to feel that what they are buying is real, purposeful, and rooted in something beyond marketing. That is part of why mushrooms, with their history in traditional medicine and visible whole-food forms, are outpacing some of the synthetic functional trends of the past decade.

The traction isn’t lost on grocers and investors. NielsenIQ reports that mushroom-containing grocery products generated over 3.4 billion dollars in US sales last year. Performance-focused segments led the charge, with sports-oriented mushroom products growing more than 30 percent. For a category that only recently stepped out of the supplement aisle, these numbers point to long-term viability—and a new kind of strategic relevance across the food and beverage industry.

As the category matures, consumer expectations are rising. Shoppers are examining ingredient sourcing, evaluating dosage, and learning to read labels more precisely. What began as a novelty has become part of the weekly grocery routine. Mushrooms are no longer just ingredients. They signal something deeper, carrying emotional meaning and delivering real benefits like focus, calm, or stamina.

The Retail Shift and Supply Chain Pressure

The popularity of mushroom-based products has not just reshaped consumer preferences. It has also forced retailers and suppliers to rethink how they categorize, source, and scale a once-afterthought food group.

In grocery stores across the United States, mushrooms have expanded beyond the produce section and supplement aisle. Retailers are building wellness-focused sets, grouping lion’s mane coffees, reishi teas, and chaga powders alongside probiotics and adaptogens. At Whole Foods, end caps now feature mushroom snacks next to CBD seltzers. Target, Walmart, CVS, and even 7-Eleven have integrated mushroom drinks into mainstream shelving. The placement is not just trend-based. It reflects strong sales and consumer pull.

This retail expansion is creating real pressure upstream. Demand for mushroom ingredients now exceeds what many producers can deliver. Lion’s mane, sought for its effects on focus and memory, grows slowly and resists easy cultivation. Cordyceps requires tightly controlled light and temperature conditions. Chaga, most commonly wild-harvested from birch trees in cold climates, can take years to reach maturity. For suppliers, this creates a bottleneck.

Image credit: Popadelics

Some companies are responding with vertical integration and tech-enabled growing systems. MyForest Foods operates a mycelium farm in New York and recently expanded to Canada, using fermentation and climate control to grow slabs of mushroom root for its alt-protein products. Meati Foods has built one of the largest mycelium production facilities in North America, capable of delivering the volume required for mass grocery distribution. These are not small experiments. Meati has received more than 350 million dollars in investment, and MyForest is scaling its AirMycelium platform to meet growing demand from CPG partners.

Yet even these systems are feeling strain. Popadelics, the mushroom chip brand now stocked in Whole Foods nationwide, has announced product backorders due to sourcing limits. As the category grows, more brands are competing for a limited supply of high-quality extracts. The result is a market where product development timelines are stretching, and price volatility is beginning to emerge.

Retailers are staying committed. Sales justify the shelf space, and consumers continue to respond to new formats and claims. But behind the merchandising, the category is in flux. Mushrooms are no longer confined to niche shelves. As they scale into commodity status, they bring new challenges in pricing, sourcing, and traceability.

Image credit Odyssey Elixir

The Fungi Future in CPG

Once a wellness niche, mushrooms have become one of the most dynamic shifts in packaged food. They tap into a rare combination: performance, familiarity, and freshness of format. As this momentum builds, the question is no longer whether functional mushrooms will remain relevant, but how far they might spread.

Across grocery aisles, mushrooms now carry the kind of meaning once reserved for probiotics or protein powders. These products are more than just ingredients. They’ve become symbols of focus, energy, and resilience. That shift moves them from fad to fixture. And mushrooms are showing signs of exactly that shift—embedded in daily routines, no longer riding novelty alone.

That shift has implications for how brands develop products and tell stories. Mushroom ingredients are already moving into formats far beyond coffee and jerky. Companies are testing fortified cereals, protein bars, and baby snacks. Lifeway Foods launched a mushroom-enhanced kefir line aimed at immune support. Alt-protein brands like Meati and MyForest are pitching fungi not as meat substitutes, but as a standalone category with its own identity. Even koji, a culinary mould used in fermented foods, is being reimagined as a flavour-forward ingredient for sauces, vegan charcuterie, and marinades.

This diversification reflects a deeper change in consumer behaviour. Shoppers are no longer driven solely by the desire for less – less sugar, meat, or caffeine. They are also seeking more. More utility, more focus, more resilience built into the rituals of daily life. Mushrooms, with their blend of medicinal history and modern formatting, speak to that shift. They align with a cultural moment focused on performance without pills and natural function without sacrifice.

What comes next is likely a wave of acquisitions and standardisation. Large CPG companies are watching closely. Some, like Danone and Constellation Brands, have already invested in adjacent wellness categories. Others are expected to move soon. As the category scales, we will see greater pressure for consistency, potency, and proof. That will mean clearer labelling, stronger supply chain traceability, and, inevitably, more clinical research. It may also mean a shakeout, as the market distinguishes between products that deliver and those that simply follow.

The fundamentals remain strong. This is a category built on tangible ingredients, measurable interest, and repeatable consumer habits. It has grown quietly, through everyday formats like coffee and snacks, not through Instagram hype. That subtle momentum may be its biggest strength. Functional mushrooms are not trying to disrupt. They are trying to last.

In a marketplace flooded with fleeting claims, mushrooms are offering something different: daily utility, steady results, and emotional resonance. They are not promising transformation. They are becoming habit. For CPG giants and startup founders alike, the question is no longer if mushrooms will lead. It is whether the rest of the aisle is ready to follow.

Understand What Today’s Consumers Really Want

From flavour innovation to functional benefits, consumer expectations are shifting fast. Our research helps CPG and food and beverage brands uncover the insights behind purchase decisions—so you can create products that resonate and endure. Kadence International is your partner in making smarter, evidence-based moves in a changing market. Submit a brief to start your project.

Stay ahead

Get regular insights

Keep up to date with the latest insights from our research as well as all our company news in our free monthly newsletter.

The consumer journey used to begin with intent. A need arose, a search began, and brands vied for attention on the results page. That digital arena, structured around keywords, ads, and SEO, rewarded whoever best spoke the search engine’s language. That model is losing ground.

AI is altering not only what consumers see but also how they seek. Search is giving way to suggestion. Generative AI tools such as ChatGPT, Google’s SGE, and TikTok’s algorithmic feed replace active intent with passive input. Type less. Scroll more. The funnel is fading.

In this new model, over half of consumers prefer product suggestions from generative AI rather than search engines. Nearly seven in ten say they’re ready to act on them. What once required comparison and evaluation is increasingly instant and unexamined.

The implications for brands are structural. Visibility is no longer won on a search results page. The new battleground lies inside opaque recommendation systems, where influence depends on what the algorithm surfaces, not what the consumer seeks.

When Search Becomes Suggestion

Once, the journey began at the search bar. Now, it starts within the logic of a machine. More and more choices—from headphones to holidays—emerge not from exploration but from a feed or prompt. Curated results appear from systems trained on data the consumer never sees.

This isn’t hypothetical. In the past year, 58 percent of global consumers have begun using generative AI for product recommendations, according to Capgemini. In the UK, 37 percent of under-40s now use AI for more than half of their searches. In the US, it’s 32 percent. The expectation isn’t to browse. It’s to receive, instantly and with zero friction.

Even when consumers still use search engines, their behaviour has shifted. Google’s Search Generative Experience now places AI-generated summaries above all other results.

According to Adobe, in 75 percent of cases, these overviews end the search then and there. Users find what they need without ever visiting a brand’s site. Visibility, once a matter of rankings and backlinks, is now defined by what the machine considers relevant.

For brands, this changes the calculus. Winning a keyword no longer guarantees visibility. If your product is not named in the AI’s shortlist, you do not exist. Recipe platforms have already felt the impact. In late 2024, traffic fell sharply as AI began answering holiday cooking questions outright. Only brands that were directly cited, such as Allrecipes, maintained strong engagement.

The Vanishing Middle

The old journey had a rhythm. Awareness led to research, research to comparison, and comparison to choice. Each step allowed brands to step in, whether through ads, testimonials, or product pages. That middle ground is disappearing.

Instead of reading dozens of reviews, consumers now ask AI assistants which model to buy. They trust the tools to compare specs and recommend what fits. A global survey from Attest in early 2025 found that 47 percent of consumers use generative AI tools such as ChatGPT, Microsoft Copilot, or Claude to research products before purchasing. In Canada and the UK, the number rises to over half. These are no longer fringe behaviours. They are becoming the norm.

The reason is simple. AI makes the process feel efficient. It can process reviews in seconds, highlight differences, and suggest what someone like you might want. Research by Bain & Company shows that in China, where e-commerce evolves rapidly, 58 percent of consumers already trust AI product recommendations, and 65 percent are comfortable using it to make decisions. On platforms like Taobao, users can now ask what’s trending, what fits their style, or what is on sale, all through generative AI chat.

Consumers are not just skipping steps. They are outsourcing them. And many prefer it. Capgemini reports that 68 percent of global consumers are now willing to act on AI-generated product recommendations. This includes both first-time purchases and routine replacements. What was once a journey is now a prompt.

For brands, this compression brings a new kind of challenge. The window to influence is smaller. If AI chooses the shortlist, brands must win earlier. At the same time, the impact of inclusion is greater. Being one of three suggestions matters more than ranking seventeenth on a search page. Presence in the recommendation layer is now critical.

How Trust in AI Splits Across Borders

While AI is changing how people shop worldwide, not everyone is moving at the same speed or with the same trust. The gaps span age, location, and gender, showing where AI influence is strongest and where hesitation remains.

In Southeast Asia, adoption is surging. A regional study by SleekFlow found that 88 percent of shoppers across Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore rely on AI recommendations to guide purchases. Ninety-two percent use AI-powered platforms for personalised suggestions. These markets are mobile-first and integrated across platforms, making them more receptive to automation that simplifies shopping.

By contrast, consumer sentiment in the US remains cautious. According to the Retail Media Breakfast Club, 55 percent of American shoppers do not trust AI shopping chatbots or automated product suggestions. Among those who encounter these tools, fewer than half choose to engage. The scepticism often stems from perceived bias, previous poor experiences, and a preference for human reassurance in more complex decisions.

Age plays a defining role. Research from Attest shows that 60 percent of shoppers under 50 are willing to use AI assistants or chatbots on brand websites, compared to only 43 percent of those aged 50 and older. Younger consumers tend to see AI as infrastructure—a tool rather than a threat. They also expect higher levels of personalisation. Capgemini reports that two-thirds of Gen Z and millennials want AI-powered product suggestions tailored to their behaviour and preferences.

A measurable gender divide has also emerged. A recent multi-country survey by Attest found that 52 percent of men are comfortable with AI-generated product recommendations, compared to just 43 percent of women. The reasons vary, but often include differences in trust toward technology and the desire to retain control over purchasing decisions.

As more of the consumer journey is shaped by algorithms, these differences become more significant. Brands using AI in customer-facing roles, such as chatbots, smart recommendations, or predictive tools, must calibrate the experience. This may involve offering human support options, explaining how suggestions are generated, or allowing customers to set their own preferences.

AI may be guiding the journey, but consumers still decide whether to follow it.

Rethinking Visibility

The scramble to adapt is well underway. As the consumer journey shifts from search to suggestion, brands are confronting a simple truth: if they are not recommended, they are not seen.

This shift has prompted a quiet pivot. Marketing teams that once focused on SEO and paid search are now trying to understand the internal logic of generative AI. A new term is gaining traction: AI Optimisation, or AIO. It refers to becoming discoverable not through indexed pages, but through the language models that shape how consumers discover information.

The mechanics of AI optimisation are still evolving. Unlike search engines, generative tools do not explain how they rank or retrieve results. But early patterns are emerging. Content written by brands often performs better than affiliate-style reviews. Clear metadata and direct answers increase the chances of being cited. Brands that lead in category-specific Q&A content are more likely to appear in AI-generated responses. The tactics resemble SEO in structure, but not in strategy.

The urgency is real. In late 2024, when generative AI summaries began appearing at the top of search results, retailers and publishers saw immediate declines in organic traffic. Recipe websites were among the first to feel the impact. Pages that once ranked highly for terms like “how long to roast a turkey” were bypassed by AI-generated summaries offering the answer directly. According to Retail TouchPoints, only sites cited within the summaries retained or gained traffic during the holiday surge.

This marks a shift in where and how attention is directed. Investment is following the trend. Capgemini’s latest consumer trends report shows that seven in ten consumer product and retail brands now see generative AI as transformative. The shift extends beyond content and search, reaching across ecommerce, brand-owned channels, and customer service platforms. Rather than simply attracting clicks through advertising, these brands are now focused on teaching algorithms to recommend them first.

This new strategy begins upstream. Influence must be established before the consumer even knows what to search for.

When Precision Becomes Overreach

Personalisation has always been the promise. AI made it scalable. Yet as recommendations become more precise, the line between relevance and intrusion starts to blur.

Retailers are already tailoring storefronts, emails, and product bundles in real time using algorithms that learn from shopper behaviour. According to SleekFlow, 86 percent of Indonesian shoppers and 80 percent of Malaysians are more likely to buy when recommendations feel personalised. These are not marginal lifts. For many brands, it can be the difference between cart abandonment and conversion.

Yet enthusiasm has limits. In the US and Europe, many consumers remain uneasy about how much insight AI systems have into their preferences. The same personalisation that increases engagement can raise concern when it feels overly intrusive. An ad that references recent browsing may feel helpful. One that appears to tap into emotional insecurities can feel invasive. This is especially true in sensitive categories such as health, beauty, and finance.

The challenge for brands is not just technical but perceptual. When consumers do not understand why a suggestion appears, trust begins to erode. Some companies are responding by rethinking opaque recommendation systems. Others are adding cues such as “Because you bought X” or “Similar customers preferred” to explain suggestions without revealing the full algorithm.

At its best, personalisation mimics human intuition. But when it becomes too precise, it reminds people they are being watched. The opportunity lies in keeping suggestions helpful without making them feel inevitable. Brands that succeed may not be the ones with the most data, but those with the most restraint.

Why-millennials-demand-work-life-balance

Where Did All the Traffic Come From?

The numbers still arrive in dashboards: sessions, bounce rates, time on page. But what drives them is shifting. AI-generated traffic behaves differently. It is erratic, difficult to attribute, and increasingly where the momentum is.

During the 2024 holiday season, US retailers reported a sharp surge in visits originating from generative AI tools. Adobe Analytics reported that traffic from AI assistants to retail sites rose more than 1,300 percent year over year, with Cyber Monday alone spiking nearly 1,950 percent. By early 2025, volumes had normalised but remained 1,200 percent higher than six months prior. These were not background processes. They were real consumers arriving through prompts, voice queries, and curated answer boxes.

Most arrived without a breadcrumb trail. They skipped homepages, ignored menu structures, and bypassed campaign entry points. Often, the AI had already filtered their options. The user clicked through with purpose, but no context. They had been handed a short list and were already deep into decision mode.

The design assumptions behind most ecommerce sites are ill-suited to this pattern. Recommendation engines still default to broad segmentation. Onsite personalisation depends heavily on past behaviour. But AI-driven visits come from somewhere else entirely. The visitor may never have seen an ad. They may not have been retargeted. They are acting on a suggestion from a model trained on billions of pages, but not necessarily one the brand paid to influence.

When the Shelf Is Chosen for You

Consumers have always edited the market down to a handful of options. AI just gets there first. Instead of reviewing dozens of choices, people are increasingly presented with three or four. In many cases, that shortlist is generated automatically. The product that appears first is not always the best or cheapest. It is the one the model selects, based on inputs the consumer never sees.

This has created a new visibility economy. Brands are no longer just competing for attention. They are competing for inclusion. One generative AI platform recommends a particular vacuum cleaner because its specs were easier to parse. Another suggests a niche beauty brand because it had more verified customer reviews. These are not paid placements. They are algorithmic guesses at relevance, made instantly and often without explanation.

The result is a narrowing of the funnel before the consumer ever enters it. In B2B markets, this is already measurable. A 2025 G2 report found that nearly one in ten business buyers now skip the traditional shortlist process entirely, moving forward with a single vendor surfaced by AI. In these cases, the machine performs triage on behalf of the buyer. The rest of the market never gets a look.

The implications are not subtle. Being second no longer means being part of the decision. It means being invisible.

From Funnel to Feedback Loop

The consumer journey is no longer a funnel. It is a feedback loop, shaped less by desire than by data. When AI becomes the first point of contact and the final nudge to purchase, brands lose the space in between. They no longer guide decisions. They wait to be selected.

This is not just a change in channels. It is a change in power. Brands built their digital strategies around discoverability, assuming the consumer would come looking. That assumption is obsolete. AI is now the gatekeeper, the recommender, the editor of choices. And unlike search engines, it does not reward effort. It rewards fit.

The question is not how to rank. It is how to be picked. That means understanding how generative systems evaluate relevance, context, and authority. It means building content for a model, not a human. It means accepting that visibility is no longer earned through awareness but conferred through inclusion.

Most brands are still trying to optimise the journey. The smartest ones are rebuilding for a world where the journey is optimised by someone else.

Stay ahead

Get regular insights

Keep up to date with the latest insights from our research as well as all our company news in our free monthly newsletter.

Cash is disappearing from daily life across Southeast Asia. In 2019, nearly half of all transactions in Asia were made in cash. By 2027, that figure is expected to fall to just 14 percent, according to the Bank for International Settlements. Mobile wallets—once a convenience—are now overtaking physical currency as the region’s default mode of payment.

This isn’t just a shift in how people pay. It’s a full-blown rewrite of Southeast Asia’s consumer economy. From Bangkok to Manila, behaviour, access, and mobility are being shaped by QR codes, app-driven incentives, and an ecosystem of competing fintech platforms racing to own the checkout moment.

The scale of adoption is staggering. In the Philippines, over 90 million people—around 80 percent of the population—use GCash or Maya, according to Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas. In Indonesia, QRIS transactions surged to 2.7 billion in 2024, up 66 percent from the year prior, based on data from Bank Indonesia.

Thailand logged more than 16 billion PromptPay transactions in 2023, cementing it as the country’s most common payment method. In Singapore, the SGQR system now supports over 30 digital payment schemes, allowing users to scan a single code and choose their preferred app—no cash, no card, no friction.

Unlike China and India, where single players dominate, Southeast Asia is shaping a multi-platform economy. Consumers aren’t just going digital; they’re actively choosing between wallets based on rewards, speed, and the ecosystem of services attached to each app.

The Regional Play

A landmark pact between five ASEAN countries is turning mobile payments into a regional system. Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, and the Philippines have linked their QR code schemes, enabling cross-border wallet use. A Filipino tourist in Bangkok can pay with GCash. A Thai traveller in Singapore can use PromptPay. No currency exchange. No new app. Just scan and go.

This isn’t just symbolic cooperation. It’s a practical leap toward regional commerce at digital speed. Consumers already expect to scan and pay anywhere. Now, the infrastructure is catching up.

More than 100 million tourists visited ASEAN countries in 2024. Many of them already live cashless at home—and now expect the same abroad. For small businesses, cross-border payments mean a wider market without new infrastructure. A QR sticker and a smartphone are all it takes.

Policymakers see this as just the beginning. Cross-border wallet use could soon expand to remittances, regional e-commerce, and subscription billing. Southeast Asia is quietly building the infrastructure to support a truly interoperable digital economy.

Platform Power and Wallet Wars

Beneath all this infrastructure is a more urgent contest—one for daily dominance. Wallets are no longer just payment tools. They are retail ecosystems, vying for attention, behaviour, and loyalty.

In Indonesia, ShopeePay, OVO, and Dana are locked in a three-way race, each tying payments to e-commerce, food delivery, and retail perks. In the Philippines, GCash leads with over 90 million users, while Maya carves out a younger audience through crypto, banking, and cashback. GrabPay holds ground in Singapore and Malaysia by weaving payments into transport and everyday services.

These wallets don’t just process payments. They offer credit, savings, loyalty points, insurance, and instant promotions. Consumers now choose where to shop based on who gives the better deal—not who’s closest or cheapest.

Brands are adapting fast. Retailers are building in-wallet offers and flash deals to stay top of mind. Banks are co-branding products to remain visible inside apps. In this economy, platform presence can matter more than price point.

Wallet ecosystems aren’t just changing how people pay—they’re changing how people choose. As competition heats up, the most powerful wallets are becoming retail platforms in their own right, collapsing the gap between promotion and purchase.

How Brands Are Winning in the Wallet Economy

Jollibee x GCash: Scaling Speed and Spend with QR Exclusives

Jollibee has turned mobile wallets into more than just payment tools. In early 2024, the Filipino fast-food giant piloted QR-only express counters in busy Metro Manila stores—accepting GCash exclusively for walk-up orders.

The results were immediate. Checkout times fell by 30 percent on average, with lunchtime throughput increasing by nearly 20 percent in the busiest branches. But the real advantage was behavioural. GCash-linked promotions—including “buy one, get one” bundles for specific meal sets—drove higher ticket sizes and repeat visits. Jollibee reported a 12 percent lift in average order value among wallet users compared to traditional cash or card buyers during the campaign window.

Beyond volume, the partnership gave Jollibee something more valuable: clear usage patterns. It tracked conversion by time of day, adjusted promotions instantly, and mapped how wallet users shop differently. The model offers lessons beyond fast food. QSR chains across the region are now experimenting with QR-linked incentives to boost order volume and loyalty.

Unilever Vietnam x ZaloPay: Closing the Loop on Sampling and Segmentation

Unilever Vietnam used mobile wallets for more than sales—it used them to test, learn, and refine. In a 2024 pilot with ZaloPay, the brand launched a digital sampling campaign for its new “urban essentials” personal care line targeting Gen Z professionals.

Consumers claimed samples directly through the ZaloPay app, but redemption came with a short quiz and opt-in to Unilever’s official account. In just three weeks, over 150,000 users participated. Of those, 17 percent converted to purchase. More importantly, the campaign delivered real data: which products got tried, how long users waited, and who came back to buy.

Traditional sampling often delivers little feedback and a lot of waste. This campaign flipped the script. For FMCG brands, it’s a path forward—less sampling waste, more segment-level insight, and faster market-readiness. It wasn’t just about targeting—it was about validating what a new segment actually wanted.

Wallets as Retail Real Estate

In Southeast Asia’s evolving consumer economy, mobile wallets are becoming the new shelf. They are visible, contextual, and central to purchase decisions. No longer just the endpoint, they’re shaping what happens before the sale is even made.

Wallets are now where discovery happens. Real-time promos, loyalty rewards, and flash deals make QR apps as influential as in-store signage. In Indonesia, ShopeePay’s “Deals Near Me” surfaces location-based offers that nudge shoppers toward one convenience store—or one coffee shop—over another.

UX Design is now strategy. What shows up on the payment screen—bundled meals, upsells, time-limited offers—can shift behaviour in seconds. In a recent survey, 62 percent of Southeast Asian wallet users said an in-app offer had changed their purchase decision in the past three months.

Brands are responding with wallet-native campaigns. In the Philippines, GCash partners with major retailers to launch app-exclusive bundles. In Vietnam, FMCG players are testing ZaloPay-only SKUs to gauge price sensitivity among mobile-first Gen Z consumers.

For marketers, this changes the playbook. Campaigns now live inside the moment—built into the wallet, not broadcast through media. And just like endcaps in a store, wallet placement is scarce, valuable, and judged by performance.

How Digital Wallets Are Closing the Financial Gap

While wallets compete for urban customers, they also unlock access for millions previously excluded from formal finance. The World Bank estimates that over 40 percent of adults in the Philippines, Indonesia, and Vietnam remain unbanked. Mobile wallets are changing that.

Street vendors, farmers, and gig workers are now building financial histories with every tap. In Indonesia, over 29 million small businesses use QRIS to accept payments. In the Philippines, GCash delivers welfare payouts, subsidies, and remittances, often to people who’ve never walked into a bank.

This shift is producing an entirely new class of consumers. They’re connected but overlooked—digitally fluent but invisible to most traditional marketing models. For researchers, the challenge now is to understand how financial access rewires habits and reshapes trust.

Wallet adoption may be booming across the region, but no two markets look alike. Some are dominated by one or two players. Others support overlapping apps, bank wallets, and homegrown fintechs. The variation speaks to different consumer needs and regulatory choices.

Comparing Wallet Ecosystems Across ASEAN

Country	Dominant Wallets	Notable Features	Estimated Adoption
Indonesia	Dana, OVO, ShopeePay	QRIS compliance, local cashback, offline ubiquity	70–75%
Philippines	GCash, Maya	Microloans, utility payments, crypto access	80–85%
Thailand	PromptPay, TrueMoney	Linked to national ID and digital welfare payouts	90%+
Singapore	GrabPay, PayNow, DBS PayLah	High QR interoperability, cross-border ready	95%+
Malaysia	Touch ‘n Go, Boost	Toll road integration, state-backed incentives	80%+

Sources: Central bank data, World Bank Global Findex (2024), platform reporting

What This Signals

The wallet boom in Southeast Asia is not a trend—it’s a system reset. It’s changing how value flows, how behaviour is tracked, and who gets included.

Consumers are gaining fast access to finance, but only through platforms that decide the terms. Governments see more. Banks lose ground. Retailers shift strategy. But the risks are real—ecosystem lock-in, data monopolies, and a widening gap for the disconnected.

Southeast Asia is building the prototype for a fully digital consumer economy. What works here won’t stay here. Markets with similar demographics will follow—some already are.

As wallets become embedded in daily life, they generate a stream of behavioural data that most traditional research methods cannot easily replicate. For brands and researchers alike, this shift is not just an operational upgrade—it is a structural advantage.

Who Gets Left Behind in a Wallet-Led Economy

Not everyone is tapping phones or using QR codes. Across Southeast Asia, millions still rely on cash, not by choice, but by necessity. As digital systems race ahead, they are leaving some consumers behind.

The elderly, rural communities, and informal workers without smartphones or stable internet still make up a large share of the population in countries like Indonesia, the Philippines, and Vietnam. For many, wallets remain either out of reach or out of trust.

Even in cities, resistance is growing. Consumers worry about data tracking, fraud, and hidden fees. In Thailand, a watchdog recently warned about wallet-based lenders targeting young users with high-interest loans disguised as pay-later perks.

Cash still offers something digital doesn’t—trust. In many traditional communities, handing over bills is easier, more familiar, and more accepted. As merchants go digital, cash users risk being pushed out of the transaction altogether.

Governments face a balancing act: modernise finance without deepening exclusion. Incentives for wallet use should not come at the cost of cash access, especially in rural or unbanked areas. For brands, the solution lies in hybrid systems that serve both digital adopters and cash loyalists.

The danger of a wallet-led economy is not that it moves too fast, but that it forgets who isn’t coming along. Progress will be measured not just in QR checkouts, but in how well the new economy includes the voices, habits, and limitations of every consumer.

A View from the Future Consumer

Southeast Asia is not just adopting digital finance—it’s rewriting the rules. While Europe debates regulation and the U.S. sticks to cards, this region is designing a payment system that is mobile, fast, and increasingly borderless. Consumers aren’t waiting for banks to evolve. They’re building the next model themselves.

For brands, the implications are clear. The old playbook—national campaigns, static rewards, and linear funnels—no longer works. Today’s consumers jump across apps, currencies, and contexts without hesitation. The winners will meet them there, designing not for convenience, but for relevance at the point of payment. Pricing isn’t set in advance. It’s surfaced in the moment—shaped by wallet prompts, bundled rewards, or time-limited offers.

For researchers, this landscape offers something rare: behaviour in real time. Every wallet tap leaves a trackable decision—what was bought, where, when, and how the user was nudged. But knowing what happened is not the same as knowing why. That’s where research matters most. Ethnography, cultural fluency, and journey mapping are the tools that explain what dashboards alone can’t.

Research must move faster, go deeper, and sit closer to where decisions are made—in wallet ecosystems, in platform partnerships, and in the fast-evolving lives of Southeast Asian consumers.

Some brands are already blending behaviour data with on-the-ground insight. In Vietnam, a beverage company spotted rural sales spikes through wallet data. Field interviews revealed the link: payday loans disbursed on the same day each month. That single insight reshaped everything—from promo timing to pack size.

The next breakthroughs in understanding consumers won’t come from dashboards alone. They’ll come from pairing live data with lived experience—decoding what people do and why they do it. The future of research isn’t digital by default. It’s embedded, agile, and built inside the systems where decisions happen.

Consumer power is shifting from income to intuition—from how much people spend to how fluently they move through the ecosystems around them. Southeast Asia isn’t adapting. It’s leading.

Kadence International helps brands decode evolving consumer behaviour across Asia and beyond. To understand what drives tomorrow’s decisions, talk to our team.

Stay ahead

Get regular insights

Keep up to date with the latest insights from our research as well as all our company news in our free monthly newsletter.

The next wave of edtech growth isn’t being engineered in boardrooms or classrooms. It’s unfolding in bedrooms, dorm halls, and digital chat groups – where students turn smartphones into production studios and learning platforms into launchpads. Armed with ring lights and revision hacks, Gen Z creators are transforming how education is marketed, consumed, and experienced.

As the creator economy collides with online learning, edtech firms increasingly tap into student-led content to drive adoption and engagement. These are not traditional brand ambassadors. They’re 17-year-olds making calculus go viral on TikTok, undergraduates breaking down coding concepts on YouTube, and peer influencers creating community-led momentum that no ad spend can replicate.

It’s a shift that goes beyond marketing. The rise of peer co-creation is shaping the very future of digital education, raising questions about influence, equity, and outcomes. And as both Western and Asian edtech platforms double down on this strategy, one thing is clear: the line between learner and creator is rapidly disappearing.

Students take control of the edtech narrative.

This behavioral shift isn’t accidental. It’s a direct outcome of how Gen Z and Gen Alpha navigate the world: socially networked, algorithm-aware, and deeply influenced by peer credibility.

For today’s learners, discovering an edtech platform through a classmate’s Instagram Reel or a late-night TikTok “study with me” session holds more weight than a polished brand campaign. Tutorials, crash courses, and day-in-the-life videos now double as endorsements, often outperforming official content in reach and relatability.

Behind the scenes, edtech companies are starting to adapt. Instead of focusing solely on institutional partnerships or top-down content strategies, platforms nurture creator ecosystems. Sometimes, they quietly offer toolkits, early access, and micro-incentives to student influencers who generate organic traction. The logic is clear: trust is the new currency, and students trust each other.

This peer-powered loop doesn’t just drive engagement – it shapes product design, fuels viral growth, and turns users into evangelists. For edtech brands seeking to scale in saturated markets, the most strategic growth play may be letting students take the mic.

Khan Academy builds influence through relatability.

In the US, Khan Academy is leaning into student-powered storytelling without making a spectacle of it. While the platform’s core content remains institutionally produced, its growth on social media owes much to an informal network of young creators – high schoolers and college students explaining how Khan helped them prep for the SATs, ace AP exams, or survive algebra.

Rather than launching overt influencer programs, Khan Academy benefits from what marketers might call “earned influence.” Creators like Thomas Frank—whose YouTube channel has over 3 million subscribers and more than 183 million views – frequently reference tools like Khan Academy in their tutorials. These mentions – organic, peer-driven, and peppered with personal success stories – carry a resonance that brand messaging rarely matches.

The result? A constant stream of creator-led endorsements embedded in motivational reels, test prep rundowns, and “study with me” live streams. The platform’s visibility continues to grow not through ads but through creators who view Khan as part of their academic survival toolkit. For students, it’s not just a resource. It’s a badge of belonging.

Classplus taps regional creators to drive depth over scale.

In India’s competitive edtech landscape, Classplus has carved a distinct path by empowering educators to run their online classrooms. But increasingly, it’s students who are amplifying its reach. On Instagram, ShareChat, and even WhatsApp groups, testimonials and tutorials recorded by learners in Hindi, Tamil, and Bengali are helping the platform penetrate beyond metro cities into India’s vast tier-2 and tier-3 markets.

These are not slick influencer campaigns. Often filmed on low-budget phones with minimal editing, the content reflects real student experiences – test scores, improved confidence, or simply how a Classplus module helped crack a tough exam concept. The authenticity resonates, especially among first-generation digital learners seeking guidance in their native language.

Classplus hasn’t ignored the trend. The company has begun quietly supporting these student creators by spotlighting their content on its official channels and offering resources to help structure their narratives. In some cases, creators have even evolved into local brand champions – hosting peer workshops, leading Telegram study groups, and shaping how the platform adapts to regional needs.

While many edtech players chase national scale, Classplus is betting that peer-led credibility in small communities may prove more sustainable (and more powerful) than mass-market advertising.

Zenius turns TikTok into a learning laboratory.

In Indonesia, Zenius is rewriting the rules of student engagement by meeting Gen Z exactly where they are – on TikTok. The platform, which offers curriculum-aligned content for K-12 learners, has seen a surge in student-driven explainers, study hacks, and motivational clips that blend humor with academic rigor. What might once have been dry exam prep is now delivered with trending sounds, meme formats, and an unmistakably local voice.

Rather than competing for attention, Zenius has embraced this creative energy. Its team actively encourages students to remix educational content into short-form videos and even runs nationwide creator challenges to spark participation. Top-performing videos – like a viral breakdown of Newton’s laws using motorbike stunts – don’t just boost app downloads. They position Zenius as a platform that understands and reflects the student mindset. Zenius’s own TikTok account, @zeniuseducation, has built a substantial following, demonstrating the platform’s resonance with Gen Z audiences in Indonesia.

The strategy taps into more than entertainment. By enabling students to co-create and share learning moments, Zenius is fostering a sense of ownership and community. Creators become informal tutors, and learning transforms into a social experience – one that travels through peer networks far faster than traditional classroom methods.

For a generation that learns in bursts, scrolls for validation, and values authenticity over authority, Zenius is proving the future of education might look a lot more like the For You Page.

How-Student-Creators-Are-Shaping-the-Future-of-EdTech

The influence dilemma behind student-led learning

As student creators gain traction, edtech companies navigate a delicate balance between engagement and responsibility. What happens when learning starts to look more like content creation? For every viral study hack or exam tip that spreads across TikTok or YouTube Shorts, there’s the risk of misinformation, burnout, or unintended pressure to perform for views.

Experts are divided. Some argue that co-creation fosters deeper learning, with students reinforcing their knowledge by teaching others. For example, an academic review of TikTok’s role in education cautioned that while it increases engagement, the brevity and virality of the content can undermine conceptual depth and accuracy, especially when non-experts are involved.

Others warn that when education is filtered through the lens of likes and shares, rigor can give way to popularity.

There’s also the question of transparency. As platforms begin to reward creators – either through visibility, free subscriptions, or direct payments – questions around sponsorship disclosure and authenticity are becoming harder to ignore. In a space where trust is everything, even the perception of promotion can erode credibility.

Mental health concerns are mounting, too. Students doubling as creators often juggle schoolwork with self-imposed content calendars, leading to stress, screen fatigue, and anxiety around performance metrics. Without clear boundaries or institutional support, the model risks amplifying the very challenges it aims to solve.

“TikTok is redefining how students access information, but it’s not a substitute for structured learning. Educators must help students think critically about the content they consume.”

-From the study: TikTok’s Influence on Education, ResearchGate

The blending of learning and influence isn’t inherently flawed, but it demands stronger guardrails. If student creators are to shape the future of education, platforms will need to offer more than visibility. They’ll need to offer support.

Learning becomes a networked, creator-powered ecosystem

The convergence of student influence and educational technology is no passing trend; it’s reshaping how learning is discovered, delivered, and defined. What began as a handful of creators posting revision tips has evolved into a decentralised learning ecosystem where peer networks hold as much sway as professional educators.

Many edtech brands are adapting. Some invest in tools that allow creators to track engagement and refine their content. Others are experimenting with monetisation models, giving high-performing student educators a path to income or certification. Features once exclusive to influencer platforms – analytics dashboards, branded content guidelines, creator portals – are quietly being layered into the backends of learning apps.

The implications are global. In the West, the trend is accelerating around standardised testing, college prep, and niche STEM content. In Asia, it’s unlocking growth in local language education and expanding access in low-bandwidth, mobile-first environments. While the pace may differ, the destination is the same: education that is personalised, social, and driven by those closest to the experience.

For brands, the message is clear. Students aren’t just users anymore. They’re builders of trust, momentum, and meaning. And in a market where attention is earned – not bought – platforms that empower them will lead the next generation of education.

Why this matters for brands

For brands operating in or adjacent to education, the rise of student creators is both a growth lever and a governance challenge. The decentralisation of influence, from institutions to peers offers unmatched authenticity and reach but also introduces new variables around accuracy, accountability, and impact.

The platforms that will lead are not those that simply ride the trend but those that help shape it responsibly. That means investing in tools that empower young voices while embedding safeguards: content verification, mental health resources, and transparent disclosure practices. Aligning with creators is no longer just a marketing strategy; it’s a responsibility.

Students have become trusted messengers in a market where attention is earned, not bought. But with that trust comes a new mandate for brands: to amplify wisely and build ecosystems that value innovation and integrity.

Stay ahead

Get regular insights

Keep up to date with the latest insights from our research as well as all our company news in our free monthly newsletter.

Veterinary care is undergoing a transformation that few outside the pet industry have fully registered. Quietly, and with surprising speed, it is becoming one of the most innovative frontiers in healthcare delivery – spurred not by institutions or regulators, but by consumer behaviour.

The catalyst was COVID-19. As lockdowns confined millions to their homes, pet adoption surged worldwide. Between 2020 and 2022, more than 23 million American households acquired a new pet, according to the ASPCA. The UK saw a 20% increase in pet ownership during the same period, while markets like Singapore, Indonesia, and Thailand reported double-digit growth in first-time pet ownership, particularly among urban millennials and Gen Z. Today, nearly 60% of households in Southeast Asia’s major cities own at least one pet.

But what followed the adoption boom was something more profound: a redefinition of what pet care should look like. In a world of same-day grocery delivery, wearable glucose monitors, and always-on digital banking, pet owners began demanding the same immediacy, visibility, and personalisation from veterinary services. Convenience became table stakes; transparency became non-negotiable. And traditional clinics – often booked weeks out, with variable pricing and limited hours – found themselves out of sync with rising expectations.

Into this gap stepped a new breed of service: subscription-based, digital-first veterinary platforms. These companies don’t just offer reactive care – they promise continuous access, proactive advice, and predictable costs. Enabled by mobile technology and fueled by a consumer base fluent in subscriptions – from fitness to food to finance – these platforms are not only meeting demand, but redefining it.

This isn’t a Western phenomenon alone. Across Southeast Asia, mobile-native consumers are bypassing legacy systems entirely, engaging with vet care the way they engage with mobility, entertainment, and finance – via app, on demand, and often as part of a bundled service.

What’s emerging is not an add-on to the veterinary industry – it’s a parallel infrastructure. Subscription-based pet care is changing not just how services are delivered, but how they’re valued, experienced, and expected. The shift is quiet, but its implications are structural, global, and irreversible.

The Perfect Storm Behind the Shift

The rise of subscription-based, digital-first veterinary care didn’t happen in a vacuum. It was the product of mounting structural strain in the veterinary industry, colliding with a generational realignment in how consumers engage with health and wellness. What’s happening now is less a trend than a correction – one shaped by workforce shortages, behavioural shifts, and evolving definitions of convenience.

At the heart of this transformation is a growing imbalance between supply and demand. In the United States, the American Veterinary Medical Association projects a shortfall of nearly 15,000 veterinarians by 2030. In the UK, the British Veterinary Association has sounded the alarm over staffing shortages exacerbated by Brexit and post-pandemic burnout. Across Southeast Asia, where veterinary infrastructure has long lagged behind growing pet ownership, access to licensed professionals remains patchy – especially outside major cities.

The result is a system under pressure: overbooked clinics, rising costs, and long wait times for even routine care. These inefficiencies are increasingly incompatible with a consumer base accustomed to real-time digital access in nearly every other domain of life.

That base is also changing. Millennials and Gen Z now account for the majority of pet owners in many countries. In the US, 76% of Gen Z and 71% of millennials own pets, according to a 2023 report by Packaged Facts. These generations have grown up with mobile-first services, expect subscription-based billing, and value transparency over tradition. They’re less loyal to institutions, more loyal to user experience.

But the shift isn’t purely generational – it’s behavioural. Consumers are no longer looking to engage with veterinary services only when something goes wrong. They want ongoing access, reassurance, and preventative care for pets as part of a broader wellness lifestyle. In this model, a once-episodic service – one that was reactive by design – is being reimagined as a continuous relationship.

The demand for immediacy is also driving pricing innovation. Traditional clinics often operate on a fee-for-service basis with little predictability for clients. Subscription models offer a clear alternative: fixed monthly pricing, bundled services, and easy cancellation. It’s a format consumers understand intuitively – one that reduces friction and increases perceived value, even when the actual services may overlap with those offered by brick-and-mortar practices.

These forces – professional shortages, digital behaviour, rising expectations – have created a perfect storm. But it is consumers, not companies, who are setting the pace of change. Their demand for continuity, control, and convenience is rewriting the rules of engagement in pet care. Traditional models are being redefined not by what they lack, but by what they can no longer offer at scale.

The Rise of Subscription-Based Vet Care

If the traditional veterinary model is under strain, subscription-based platforms are capitalising on the gap, not just by digitising care, but by reframing what care means altogether.

At the centre of this shift is a new breed of veterinary service providers offering care plans that emphasise access, continuity, and convenience. Unlike conventional clinics, which are often bound by geographic reach, hours of operation, and one-off appointment models, these platforms offer a digital front door to veterinary support – always open, always responsive.

In the United States, startups like Fuzzy and Pawp have led the charge. Fuzzy offers members 24/7 live vet chat, medication delivery, and access to care plans for chronic conditions – all through a monthly subscription that ranges from $20 to $40. Pawp, which launched in 2020, delivers flat-fee emergency fund access and unlimited telehealth consults for under $25 per month. These companies are less interested in replacing brick-and-mortar clinics and more focused on becoming the first – and frequent – point of contact. Their services are designed around reassurance, convenience, and wellness, rather than surgical procedures or complex diagnostics.

In the UK, Joii Pet Care has gained traction by offering video consults and symptom checkers targeted at affordability and access. Developed by a team of experienced vets and tech entrepreneurs, the app aims to fill care gaps, particularly for lower-income households or those living in rural areas where local clinics are sparse. With prices starting under £25 per consultation or bundled into wellness plans, Joii represents a different approach: one rooted in cost democratisation without sacrificing clinical oversight.

Across Southeast Asia, where veterinary infrastructure varies widely, digital-first models are leapfrogging outdated systems. In cities like Jakarta, Bangkok, and Manila, startups are building integrated ecosystems that combine e-commerce, on-demand consults, vaccination reminders, and home diagnostics – all accessible via mobile app. In these markets, where smartphone penetration is high and traditional vet coverage is limited, the subscription model isn’t just disruptive – it’s foundational.

What all these models share is a fundamental redefinition of veterinary care as a service layer, not a physical location. This service is anchored in several common features:

Always-on access: 24/7 chat and video support, eliminating the need to wait for clinic hours.
Tiered pricing: Monthly plans that bundle consults, medications, supplements, or diagnostic tests.
Proactive care: Wellness tracking, behaviour coaching, and early intervention, rather than reactive treatment.
Integrated delivery: Some platforms even include food, flea treatments, or insurance coverage – shifting from care to full-lifecycle pet management.

From a business standpoint, the subscription model offers strong appeal: predictable recurring revenue, high engagement, and greater lifetime value per customer. For consumers, the model reduces decision fatigue. Instead of weighing every vet call against cost or necessity, pet owners can access care fluidly, often leading to earlier interventions and stronger long-term outcomes.

Crucially, the value isn’t just in the care provided – it’s in the perception of partnership. These platforms don’t operate like service providers; they position themselves as guides, helping owners navigate an increasingly complex pet wellness landscape. This relationship-first framing plays especially well with younger consumers, who prioritise trust and transparency in brand interaction.

Subscription-based vet care isn’t about replacing traditional clinics. It’s about meeting the unmet needs those clinics were never designed to solve – ongoing reassurance, flexible support, and access untethered from geography or schedule. And in doing so, these platforms are setting new benchmarks for what modern pet healthcare looks like, not just in the West, but in digital-first economies around the world.

Regional Perspectives in Transformation

While the shift to digital-first, subscription-based veterinary care is global in momentum, its expression varies significantly by region. Regulation, consumer behaviour, infrastructure, and healthcare norms all influence how the transformation unfolds – and where it gains traction fastest.

United States: Infrastructure Meets Expectation

The US remains the most mature market for pet telehealth, fueled by high rates of pet ownership, established digital payment infrastructure, and a consumer base accustomed to subscriptions across lifestyle categories. Companies like Fuzzy, Pawp, and Dutch have rapidly scaled, supported by favourable funding environments and growing regulatory flexibility.

The American Veterinary Medical Association has gradually updated telemedicine guidelines to reflect new realities, allowing licensed vets to establish a veterinary-client-patient relationship (VCPR) remotely in some states. This flexibility has given startups room to innovate while enabling hybrid models that bridge virtual triage and in-person escalation.

Consumer readiness has also played a role. With 97% of US households owning a smartphone and nearly 80% of millennials identifying as pet parents, mobile-based care isn’t a leap – it’s a natural extension of how health, finance, and lifestyle are already managed.

United Kingdom: Bridging Gaps with Affordability

In the UK, the rise of digital veterinary services has followed a different path – less about convenience, more about access and affordability. NHS-like expectations of care spill into pet ownership culture, where cost sensitivity often leads to delayed treatment or skipped appointments.

Joii and FirstVet have gained traction by offering consults at fixed, low prices, targeting underserved households and rural regions. These services are often paired with employer benefits or pet insurance providers, forming integrated care bundles that mirror human healthcare delivery.

Regulation is catching up, but remains a barrier in some respects. The Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons (RCVS) still requires an in-person relationship to prescribe most medications, limiting the scope of pure-play digital models. Still, the appetite for innovation is evident, especially among younger consumers facing cost-of-living pressures and limited clinic access.

Southeast Asia: Mobile-First and Rapidly Scaling

In Southeast Asia, subscription-based pet care is not just a convenience – it’s becoming foundational. In high-density cities like Jakarta, Bangkok, and Ho Chi Minh City, veterinary infrastructure hasn’t kept pace with urban pet ownership. Clinics are often understaffed or geographically uneven, while demand for care is growing sharply among younger, mobile-first consumers.

Here, digital platforms are leapfrogging legacy systems, integrating consults, treatment reminders, product delivery, and even vaccination records into a single app. The model resembles fintech and telemedicine rollouts in the region: rapid, mobile-led, and often driven by startups with regional or pan-Asian ambitions.

Unlike in the West, where subscription models compete with entrenched systems, Southeast Asia’s innovators are building the baseline infrastructure from the ground up. For many new pet owners in the region, a subscription-based vet app isn’t a supplement – it’s the only vet they’ve ever known.

Brand Spotlight: Pawp

Image credit: Pawp

Few companies have captured the shift in pet care delivery as clearly as Pawp. Launched in 2019, the US-based startup built its model around a simple idea: pet owners want immediate access to expert care without unpredictable costs. For a monthly fee of around $24, subscribers receive unlimited 24/7 access to licensed veterinarians via chat or video, along with an annual $3,000 emergency fund that covers life-threatening situations.

It’s not insurance, and it’s not a replacement for in-person care. Instead, Pawp positions itself as the first point of contact – triaging concerns, offering advice, and filling the gap between full-service clinics and reactive emergency visits. The service is especially appealing to urban renters, multi-pet households, and younger owners accustomed to managing health, banking, and food delivery through their phones.

Adoption accelerated during the pandemic, as pet ownership hit record highs and consumers became more comfortable with telehealth. By 2022, Pawp had expanded nationwide. But its biggest leap came in 2023 when Walmart integrated the service into its Walmart+ membership. For millions of members, a vet became one tap away, included in their monthly subscription. That partnership wasn’t just a distribution win – it marked a cultural shift, signalling that veterinary access, like streaming or grocery delivery, could be bundled into everyday life.

Pawp’s model reflects a broader recalibration of how pet owners think about care. The unlimited access reduces the threshold for engagement – owners no longer hesitate over whether a question is “worth” asking. Instead, they ask more, earlier, and often. This changes the rhythm of care, encouraging prevention over reaction and making the pet-health relationship feel continuous rather than episodic.

While competitors have emerged, few match Pawp’s combination of on-demand triage and financial safety net. The company has also moved into employer benefits and financial services, appearing in bundled perks from credit cards and HR platforms. For traditional clinics, this model doesn’t displace in-person care – but it does rewire when, how, and why pet owners seek help.

What Pawp proves is that subscription care isn’t just a pricing structure – it’s a behaviour model. And for millions of pet owners, it’s quickly becoming the default.

Traditional Clinics at a Crossroads

The rise of subscription-based, digital-first platforms presents traditional veterinary practices with a pivotal question: resist, retreat, or reconfigure?

For decades, veterinary care has been defined by brick-and-mortar clinics. The model was straightforward – appointments, procedures, prescriptions. But this model was never designed for today’s expectations: 24/7 access, real-time answers, preventative guidance, and fixed-cost transparency. As new entrants deliver on these demands digitally, traditional clinics are being forced to confront their own structural limitations.

Some view the trend as a threat to their clinical authority and client relationships. But framing this evolution as competition misses the larger opportunity. In truth, these models don’t replace what clinics do – they fill the spaces in between. And for practices that embrace this reality, digital platforms offer not a threat but a strategic partner.

Hybrid care is emerging as a viable solution. Clinics that incorporate virtual consults – either independently or through collaboration with subscription providers – can triage non-emergency cases more efficiently, free up in-clinic capacity, and reduce staff burnout. This is especially critical as workforce shortages continue to mount. By adding a digital layer, clinics can serve more patients without diluting the quality of care.

The integration opportunity extends further. Clinics that lean into wellness plans, recurring product bundles, or asynchronous follow-ups are finding new ways to generate revenue, build loyalty, and align with how modern pet owners think. The shift from transactional care to relational care – something digital-first platforms do exceptionally well – can be mirrored within physical practices through smarter use of CRM systems, automated reminders, and bundled service pricing.

However, cultural shifts may prove more challenging than technological ones. Pricing transparency, a cornerstone of the subscription model, forces clinics to re-evaluate the traditional ambiguity around fees. Similarly, expectations around always-on access mean that practices must reconsider staffing models, triage protocols, and customer service norms.

Still, the alternative is stagnation. Pet owners will increasingly gravitate toward models that give them more control, clarity, and connection. If clinics don’t evolve in parallel, they risk becoming not obsolete, but peripheral – consulted only in crisis, instead of trusted across the care journey.

The path forward for traditional veterinary care isn’t defensive – it’s adaptive. The future belongs not to those who replicate digital models, but to those who integrate them with the irreplaceable expertise of in-person care.

What Subscription Care Reveals About Consumer Psychology

The growth of subscription-based veterinary care cannot be explained by technology alone. At its core lies a deeper psychological shift: the redefinition of care from a transactional act to an ongoing relationship – one that is emotional, preventative, and embedded in daily life.

Pet owners are no longer engaging with veterinary services purely out of necessity. They are engaging out of responsibility and routine, adopting the behaviours they’ve internalised from human wellness – preventative check-ups, continuous monitoring, and personalised guidance – and projecting them onto their animals. This is not sentimentality; it’s behavioural logic. Pets are increasingly viewed not as dependents, but as extensions of the self. Caring for them is seen as a reflection of competence, compassion, and control.

Subscription models tap directly into this psychological orientation. The fixed monthly fee does more than spread out cost – it reduces decision friction. Owners no longer have to weigh whether a behaviour warrants a $90 consult. They can simply ask. This freedom from hesitation leads to greater engagement, earlier intervention, and – crucially – higher customer satisfaction.

The format itself matters. Subscriptions create a psychological contract: a sense that care is ongoing, not contingent. This fosters trust and encourages owners to interact with the service even when nothing seems urgent. As usage increases, so does perceived value – making cancellations less likely and loyalty more resilient, even in times of economic pressure.

This model also aligns with modern consumers’ preference for predictability over spontaneity, especially among Gen Z and millennials. These cohorts are more likely to use budgeting apps, mental health platforms, and fitness subscriptions than previous generations. In this landscape, paying monthly for a responsive, wellness-oriented vet service doesn’t feel like an expense. It feels like a responsible default.

The emotional context is equally significant. Pet health triggers the same anxiety as human health, often without the institutional support systems or insurance coverage. Subscription care offers not just medical advice, but peace of mind – a buffer against uncertainty that is worth paying for, even if it’s never used.

What we’re witnessing is not just a new way to deliver veterinary services. It’s a new way to frame value, build trust, and establish relevance in the lives of modern pet owners – anchored as much in psychology as in medicine.

From Reactive to Relationship-Based Care

The next frontier in pet healthcare will not be built solely on digital access – it will be defined by intelligence, personalisation, and integration. Subscription models have laid the foundation. What comes next is an ecosystem where care is continuous, contextual, and increasingly predictive.

Already, we’re seeing early signals. AI-enabled symptom checkers and triage bots are improving accuracy and efficiency in first-line responses, particularly in high-volume markets like the US and UK. Wearables are moving beyond step tracking, offering real-time insights into sleep quality, heart rate variability, and behavioural anomalies – data that can trigger interventions before a clinical symptom emerges. And at-home diagnostics, from microbiome testing to genetic screening, are making it possible to detect risk factors earlier than ever before.

As these tools mature, the role of the veterinarian will evolve. Less gatekeeper, more guide. Less episodic expert, more integrated partner. Pet care will mirror the best of modern human healthcare: digitally enabled, insight-driven, and co-managed by both professional and consumer. The brands and clinics that succeed will be those that understand not just what services to offer, but how to build lasting relevance in a world of empowered pet parents.

In this landscape, market research becomes more essential – not less. Understanding the emotional, cultural, and behavioural drivers behind pet care decisions is critical to navigating what’s next. Data alone can reveal what consumers are buying; insight reveals why – and what they’ll demand next. Whether it’s segmenting how Gen Z in Bangkok approaches preventative pet care, or tracking the adoption curve of tele-vet platforms among suburban households in Manchester, the businesses that win will be those that treat insight as strategy, not a sidebar.

The future of veterinary care is not about digitising the past. It’s about reshaping the relationship between pet, owner, and provider. What began as a convenience – subscriptions, on-demand chat, symptom checkers – is becoming an expectation. The logic of episodic care is giving way to a relationship economy, where value is measured not just in outcomes, but in consistency, confidence, and care continuity.

Veterinary practices, platforms, and brands alike face a choice. Compete on service, or compete on understanding. In an age of intelligent pet wellness, the latter will shape the next generation of care.

Stay ahead

Get regular insights

Keep up to date with the latest insights from our research as well as all our company news in our free monthly newsletter.

Late one evening in Lagos, 22-year-old Chika is scrolling through TikTok, eyes fixed on a local influencer demoing the latest face serum. She watches the 30-second video twice, screenshots the product, and toggles over to Jumia to compare prices, scanning reviews that look a little too polished to be real. Before checking out, she sends a message to her cousin in Ibadan: “Have you tried this one? Is it legit?” Only after a thumbs-up and a money-back assurance from the seller does she complete the purchase – on mobile, of course.

This isn’t an isolated case. It’s a snapshot of how the next billion consumers will shop, click, and connect.

While Western economies grapple with saturation, inflation, and shifting loyalty, the momentum is migrating – toward Southeast Asia, Africa, and parts of Latin America. These regions are no longer just “emerging markets.” They are where the most dynamic, mobile-first, and digitally sophisticated consumers are coming of age.

The numbers make the case undeniable. According to the United Nations, over 85% of global population growth through 2050 will come from Africa and Asia. The GSMA reports that mobile internet penetration in Sub-Saharan Africa is set to reach 50% by 2025, up from 28% in 2019. Meanwhile, the World Bank highlights how smartphone adoption is leapfrogging traditional infrastructure, giving rise to an entire generation that skipped the PC era entirely.

But these consumers are not easily won. They are bilingual and bicultural, equally fluent in local slang and global memes. They are digitally native but deeply mistrustful, having grown up in online ecosystems rife with scams, misinformation, and empty brand promises. And they are forcing brands – both global and local – to rethink what it means to earn attention, deliver relevance, and build trust in the age of hyper-connectivity.

This is not just a demographic shift. It’s a behavioural revolution. And it’s already underway.

Meet the Next Billion: Demographics, Access, and Expectations

This new wave of consumers is young, connected, and coming online fast. In markets like Nigeria, Indonesia, Vietnam, and the Philippines, the median age hovers around 25. These are societies where more than half the population wasn’t yet born when Facebook launched – and for them, digital engagement isn’t an evolution; it’s a native state.

Urbanisation is accelerating across these regions, but it’s not confined to megacities. Second- and third-tier cities are becoming powerful engines of growth, fueled by digital access and rising educational attainment. In Vietnam, for instance, over 94% of youth are literate, and the number of university graduates has doubled over the past decade. Similarly, Nigeria’s youth enrollment in tertiary education is climbing, despite infrastructure constraints. With education comes language dexterity: millions speak at least two languages – one local, one global – and they switch between them instinctively, depending on the context, platform, or audience.

If their predecessors logged onto the internet, this generation lives inside it – and does so almost exclusively via smartphone. In Indonesia, smartphone penetration has surpassed 75%, with apps like Tokopedia, Gojek, and Shopee becoming gateways to everything from groceries to financial services. In sub-Saharan Africa, handset affordability and prepaid data plans have made mobile the default medium for learning, shopping, and socialising. The desktop? Many have never touched one.

Browser-based experiences are increasingly irrelevant. Instead, this generation navigates a constellation of apps, each with its own cultural role. WhatsApp is for family, Instagram for aspiration, TikTok for entertainment, and Telegram or local forums for unfiltered information. Platform behaviour is deeply segmented and purpose-driven. Brands attempting to force a uniform message across channels are quickly tuned out.

And while their tech habits may look similar from a distance, the nuances run deep. In Nigeria, digital spaces are often leveraged as tools for activism and community solidarity. Mistrust in institutions has made peer recommendations and online reputation more powerful than formal brand campaigns. By contrast, in Indonesia, religious and cultural values shape how products are perceived and promoted – especially in sectors like fashion, beauty, and food. Vietnamese consumers, on the other hand, exhibit a high degree of tech optimism, embracing e-wallets and livestream commerce, but place enormous emphasis on product quality and after-sales service, driven by prior experiences with low-cost imports.

These differences matter. What unites the next billion is their digital fluency, but what distinguishes them is the lens through which they evaluate brands. A price drop may trigger interest in Nigeria, but in Vietnam, durability and performance often take precedence. In Indonesia, localised design or halal certification may be the tipping point. The common thread is that these consumers are not passive recipients of global marketing – they are active participants, savvy navigators, and, increasingly, vocal critics.

To engage them, brands must move past old assumptions about emerging markets being homogenous or easily won with scale. What’s unfolding is a more complex, more nuanced, and more demanding consumer environment – and it’s being shaped not just by demographics, but by deep-seated expectations forged in mobile-first, culturally hybrid, and rapidly evolving societies.

Mistrust Is the Default Setting

For many of the next billion consumers, scepticism isn’t a reaction – it’s a reflex. Decades of unreliable infrastructure, political instability, and inconsistent enforcement of consumer rights have conditioned buyers to approach brands and platforms with guarded caution. In these markets, trust is not assumed; it’s earned slowly and lost quickly.

The scale of the challenge is significant. According to Edelman’s 2024 Trust Barometer, trust in institutions – including businesses – remains markedly lower in developing regions than in developed ones. In Nigeria, only 42% of respondents said they trust brands “to do what is right,” compared to 62% in the UK. In Indonesia, that figure was closer to 50%, but even there, trust is often linked to familiarity rather than formal reputation – people tend to trust people, not corporations.

This backdrop has fueled the rise of peer-to-peer influence as a dominant decision-making force. In the Philippines, Facebook community groups like “Online Budol Finds” (slang for impulsive purchases) function as real-time marketplaces and review boards, where users share unfiltered opinions about products, pricing, and service. In Kenya, WhatsApp groups play a similar role, serving as both watchdog and validator in a system where traditional consumer protections are weak or absent. Even in Vietnam, where e-commerce infrastructure has rapidly improved, 54% of online shoppers say they rely on recommendations from friends or family over brand messaging, according to Statista.

This preference for informal verification mechanisms stems from bitter experience. Counterfeit goods remain a rampant issue across markets – from fake electronics in Ghana to diluted skincare products in Indonesia. In response, many consumers have developed an internal checklist: check the seller’s social proof, confirm the payment method, look for real customer images, and verify delivery policies. Brands that fail even one of these checks are likely to be discarded in seconds.

At the same time, digital mistrust is compounding the issue. Scams, phishing attacks, and fake reviews have tainted the e-commerce experience. The GSMA estimates that more than 40% of mobile internet users in Africa and Southeast Asia have experienced some form of online fraud or misleading advertising. In Indonesia alone, the National Cyber and Crypto Agency reported over 190 million cyberattacks and suspicious traffic incidents in 2023.

In this climate, even influencer marketing – a strategy once thought to fast-track trust – has grown less effective. In Vietnam, consumers increasingly question whether influencers are being paid to promote products they don’t actually use. The same holds true in Nigeria, where audiences are savvy enough to distinguish between genuine recommendations and sponsored scripts. The result is a gradual shift toward micro-influencers and community advocates, whose endorsements feel more relatable and less rehearsed.

The implications for global brands are profound. Standard top-down marketing no longer carries weight. Instead, trust must be layered in – through reliable service, consistent messaging, transparency in returns and refunds, and responsiveness on the platforms where consumers are active. Brands must also recognise the importance of publicly visible customer interactions. A fast, empathetic reply to a complaint in the comments section may matter more than a million-dollar ad campaign.

Trust, in this context, is not a brand asset; it’s a user experience outcome. And in a market where every interaction becomes a review, the next billion are watching, judging, and sharing – with or without you.

The Battle for the First Page (or First Screen)

For the next billion consumers, the path to purchase doesn’t begin with a browser search – it starts with a scroll. Discovery has shifted from keywords to content, from desktop search bars to full-screen video, and from global search engines to localised social ecosystems. As a result, the first screen – what shows up in a feed, on a homepage, or in a chat group – has become the most valuable real estate in the customer journey.

In Indonesia, 71% of internet users aged 16–24 say they use social media as their primary source for researching brands, according to DataReportal 2024. In Nigeria, that figure is nearly identical. TikTok, Instagram Reels, Facebook Marketplace, and YouTube Shorts aren’t just distractions – they’re digital storefronts where decisions are made in real time, often before a brand’s official website is ever visited. The lines between content, commerce, and community have all but vanished.

And while this trend is visible globally, its intensity in emerging markets is distinct. A key reason: data affordability drives platform choice and usage behaviour. Telecom bundles that include free access to Facebook or WhatsApp often influence which platforms dominate attention. In the Philippines, for example, “Free FB” packages have made Facebook one of the most deeply entrenched platforms in the country’s digital culture – so much so that some users mistakenly believe it is the internet.

The importance of platform-specific strategy can’t be overstated. In Vietnam, product discovery frequently occurs through livestream commerce on TikTok Shop, where real-time interactions foster a sense of authenticity. In Kenya, small businesses routinely post promotions through WhatsApp Status or Telegram channels, bypassing traditional ad formats altogether. In Nigeria, where Twitter (now X) has a strong political and cultural presence, product conversations often unfold in threads filled with memes, humour, and direct audience engagement.

But it’s not just about where brands show up – it’s about how they’re experienced in the moment. Load speed, image optimisation, and mobile UX have a direct impact on trust and retention. According to Google, 53% of mobile users in emerging markets will abandon a page that takes longer than three seconds to load. And that’s not just about tech – it’s about expectations. These consumers are used to fast, seamless, and low-friction digital experiences. Anything less suggests the brand doesn’t understand them.

Just as critically, language and localisation now serve as first impressions. A landing page that defaults to English – or worse, uses awkward machine translations – can signal cultural detachment. By contrast, content tailored in local languages, with region-specific slang and visual references, is seen as a mark of respect and investment. It says: we’re not just here to sell; we’re here to understand.

In a space where attention is both fleeting and fiercely fought over, success no longer goes to the loudest voice or biggest budget. It goes to the most culturally fluent, visually intuitive, and platform-native presence. Winning the first screen isn’t about visibility alone – it’s about resonance.

The Rise of Reverse Aspiration and Quiet Power

Western brands once assumed that success in emerging markets meant becoming aspirational – symbols of modernity and affluence. But for today’s mobile-first generation, the tables are turning. Increasingly, it is not global prestige that earns admiration, but local relevance. In place of overt aspiration, there’s a growing sense of pride in indigenous culture, self-made success, and digital independence. What’s emerging is a quiet power: consumers who no longer seek to imitate the West, but expect brands – foreign and domestic – to meet them on their terms.

Across Southeast Asia and Africa, there’s a perceptible shift from status to substance. In Nigeria, youth are driving a surge in support for homegrown fashion labels like Orange Culture and Ashluxe – brands that blend global aesthetics with distinctly African narratives. A 2023 Euromonitor report found that 64% of Nigerian Gen Z consumers said they prefer to buy local brands that reflect their identity, even when international options are available.

This isn’t limited to apparel. In Indonesia, the halal cosmetics market has seen explosive growth, not merely as a religious preference but as an expression of cultural values. Brands like Wardah and Emina now rival – or outperform – multinational competitors in brand recognition among young women. These brands don’t compete by mimicking Western tropes. They succeed by embedding themselves in the rhythms of local life, from religious observances to beauty standards shaped by regional influencers rather than global celebrities.

The same dynamic is playing out in Vietnam’s tech sector, where local e-wallets like MoMo are outpacing foreign fintech entrants – not because of superior technology but because they better understand the daily behaviours, payment rituals, and security concerns of the Vietnamese consumer. According to a 2023 study by Decision Lab, MoMo enjoys over 60% brand preference among young urbanites, in part due to its partnerships with local merchants and integration into everyday routines like topping up phone credit or paying utility bills.

Meanwhile, global culture is increasingly being shaped by these same markets. Afrobeats, once a niche genre, now tops international charts. Thai skincare routines are influencing global beauty trends. Filipino content creators are gaining global followers on TikTok not because they adapt to global norms, but because they confidently showcase their own. In this way, reverse aspiration is not just a rejection of old hierarchies – it’s an export of influence.

For brands, the lesson is clear: you are not the centre of the story. Consumers no longer measure themselves against your brand identity. Instead, they measure your brand against their values, communities, and cultural fluency. Products must be flexible, not fixed; branding must adapt, not dictate.

The rise of reverse aspiration doesn’t signal hostility toward global brands – it signals maturity. These consumers aren’t trying to join the global mainstream. They are the mainstream – digitally savvy, culturally proud, and shaping the conversation on their own terms. And they expect brands to understand that before making their pitch.

Strategies to Earn Attention and Trust

Capturing the attention of the next billion is not a matter of flashy creative or inflated ad budgets. These consumers are deliberate and discerning, quick to disengage from brands that don’t meet their standards or speak their language – both literally and figuratively. Trust is not a funnel; it’s a framework. And it requires consistent, intentional action across every touchpoint.

1. Hyper-localisation isn’t optional – it’s foundational.
For emerging market consumers, brand credibility is tightly linked to cultural fluency. It goes beyond simple translation to a full embrace of local values, references, and usage contexts. In Vietnam, the delivery app Baemin differentiated itself by infusing its platform with witty Vietnamese slang, inside jokes, and hyper-specific product categories – earning loyalty not through function, but through cultural intimacy. In Kenya, Safaricom’s M-Pesa succeeded not just as a mobile payments tool, but because it was built around the realities of an unbanked population, with offline integration and SMS functionality that anticipated connectivity challenges.

2. Trust is built in the micro-moments.
In high-trust economies, consumers might forgive a misstep. In low-trust markets, every interaction matters. A delayed delivery, a missing refund, or a slow response to a query can permanently damage perception. In Indonesia, beauty brand Sociolla won favour by offering guaranteed authentic products, tracked delivery, and a no-hassle return policy – features that directly addressed consumer anxieties in a market flooded with counterfeits. Transparency, speed, and customer service are not operational choices; they are brand positioning strategies.

3. Community voices trump corporate messaging.
The age of the polished brand ambassador is fading. Peer influence, especially from micro-influencers and everyday content creators, now holds more sway. These are people with modest followings but high engagement, often speaking in native dialects or regional slang. In the Philippines, Shopee’s partnership with grassroots creators in smaller cities – rather than national celebrities – helped drive adoption among new internet users. Brands that co-create with local voices, elevate real customer stories, and share behind-the-scenes content signal a level of openness that consumers find relatable and reassuring.

4. Simplification drives conversion.
The mobile-first mindset means consumers expect streamlined interfaces, fast-loading pages, and frictionless payment processes. The most successful brands eliminate barriers rather than adding features. In India, Meesho – a platform that allows users to resell products through WhatsApp and Facebook – gained explosive traction not by competing on price or product, but by simplifying commerce to match the rhythms of informal entrepreneurship. Especially in markets with lower digital literacy or inconsistent connectivity, simplicity is not just convenient – it’s empowering.

5. Offer real value, not just marketing.
Beyond product benefits, brands that offer utility, knowledge, or community are more likely to earn sustained engagement. During the pandemic, Vietnam’s Vinamilk launched a nutrition education series across Facebook Live, fronted by local pediatricians and nutritionists. The effort was not overtly commercial, but it positioned the brand as a trusted source in a time of uncertainty – building long-term brand equity. Similarly, in Africa, MTN’s “Y’ello Hope” campaign provided remote learning support and free data for health workers, deepening brand connection far beyond mobile service.

6. Show up where it matters – and stay.
Too often, international brands treat emerging markets as seasonal experiments, testing campaigns without long-term investment. But consistency is critical. Consumers notice who’s around during key holidays, national events, and crises – and who disappears when results don’t come quickly. Building trust means being present, listening actively, and responding quickly, even when it’s not convenient. It means moving from transactional to relational.

Attention and trust are hard-won in these markets – but not impossible. Brands that succeed will be those that listen before speaking, localise without diluting, and deliver value at every step. It’s not about cracking a code – it’s about showing up, with respect, relevance, and reliability.

What the Next Billion Means for Global Strategy

The next billion consumers will not just change where companies grow – they will fundamentally reshape how companies think. For too long, emerging markets have been treated as the final frontier for global brands – places to extend reach and scale after success was achieved elsewhere. That model is not only outdated; it’s strategically short-sighted.

In markets like Vietnam, Kenya, and the Philippines, consumer expectations are being forged under entirely different conditions: mobile-first access, economic volatility, rapid urbanisation, and a deep mistrust of centralised systems. The result is a set of behaviours that are more adaptive, more sceptical, and often more innovative than those seen in mature markets. Consumers here are not merely catching up – they are setting new standards.

Rather than viewing these markets as extensions of Western playbooks, companies should see them as innovation testbeds. Take mobile commerce: features like embedded payments, one-click checkout via messaging apps, or app-free transactions are not novelties – they are necessities driven by constraints around bandwidth, infrastructure, and financial inclusion. Yet these same constraints are producing solutions that may become best practices globally.

Similarly, platform design in these regions often centres on immediacy, low data consumption, and local integration. Global teams should be asking: What can we learn from the success of super apps in Southeast Asia? From the rise of voice notes and vernacular language content in India? From trust mechanics built into informal commerce networks across West Africa? These are not fringe behaviors – they are indicators of where global user expectations are headed.

The ability to operate in these ecosystems requires more than translation. It demands cultural intelligence, operational flexibility, and a long-term mindset. Localisation must move beyond interface tweaks to encompass everything from payment methods and logistics to influencer partnerships and community engagement. A product launch is no longer the finish line; it’s the beginning of a multi-year trust-building process.

This shift calls for investment – not just in marketing – but in on-the-ground research, in building local teams with decision-making power, and in systems that can adapt quickly to feedback loops. The brands that will thrive are those that listen early, prototype fast, and refine continuously. That’s not reactive – it’s resilient.

The next billion are not waiting to be discovered. They are already online, already informed, already choosing. But they are choosing carefully. Their loyalty isn’t earned by reputation – it’s earned by repetition: consistent delivery, relevance, and respect over time.

What we’re seeing isn’t a short-term trend – it’s a structural redefinition of what global success looks like. And in this new equation, the old formulas – centralised control, broad generalisations, and push marketing – no longer hold. The competitive edge will belong to those who approach these markets not as territories to conquer, but as partners in evolution.

Because when consumers are multilingual, mobile-first, and mistrustful by design, brand engagement becomes a privilege – not a right. The challenge is not whether companies can reach them. It’s whether they can rise to meet them.

Stay ahead

Get regular insights

Keep up to date with the latest insights from our research as well as all our company news in our free monthly newsletter.

Wearables aren’t fringe anymore. Once seen as fitness accessories for gym-goers and early adopters, smartwatches and health trackers are becoming everyday essentials. In the first quarter of 2024 alone, global shipments of wearable devices hit 113 million units – an almost 9% jump compared to the year before. And that’s despite persistent inflation and consumer pullback across key markets.

What’s shifting? People are treating these devices less like gadgets and more like tools for managing stress, sleep, and overall health. Consumers are using them to take control – sometimes even before they know something’s wrong. And tech companies are keeping pace, building in more sophisticated health features, wrapping them in sleek design, and expanding their reach far beyond Silicon Valley.

China, for example, led the world in wrist-worn device shipments through most of 2024, with almost 46 million units sold in just the first three quarters. Japan’s older population is increasingly using wearables to monitor vitals and stay independent longer. In the US and UK, mainstream use is now less about steps and more about holistic wellness. Meanwhile, in Southeast Asia and India, lower-cost models are making wearables accessible to first-time buyers – especially younger users who want health data but don’t need an Apple logo to get it.

This rise isn’t just about health – it’s about habits. The adoption curve shows that consumers are steadily folding digital health tracking into their everyday routines, reshaping not only how we think about wellness but also how we’ll live and age in the years ahead.

From step counters to personal health assistants

The evolution of wearables mirrors a larger shift in how we define health. A decade ago, a fitness tracker was mostly just that – a tool for counting steps or logging runs. Now, it’s a wrist-worn health hub, checking heart rhythms, analyzing sleep, detecting stress, and even alerting users to abnormal vitals before symptoms appear.

This transformation hasn’t just changed the product – it’s reshaped the market. What started with athletes and early tech adopters has now spread across age groups and income levels. Smartwatches are on the wrists of office workers in Singapore, older adults in Tokyo, commuters in London, and Gen Z students in Delhi. And the demand isn’t slowing.

Global sales of wearables reached over $84 billion in 2024, with projections putting the market on track to more than double by 2030. That growth is being powered by consumers in Asia, where China continues to dominate volume thanks to homegrown brands, and where India and Southeast Asia are seeing rising uptake of budget-friendly devices. In Japan, demand is strongest among an ageing population who are using wearables for peace of mind – keeping tabs on heart rate, sleep, and medication reminders.

The US and UK still lead when it comes to higher-end models and paid health tracking subscriptions. But what’s consistent across regions is the shift from passive to active wellness. As one analyst at Canalys put it recently, “We’re watching wearables move from fitness to full-spectrum lifestyle tech.”

And while device makers keep layering in new features – temperature sensing, stress tracking, blood oxygen levels – it’s the behavior behind the screen that matters most. Consumers aren’t just buying wearables; they’re changing how they relate to their own health. What’s changing fastest isn’t the tech – it’s how people are folding it into their everyday decisions.

Consumer Adoption Across Generations and Borders

Younger consumers may be driving volume, but wearables are winning over every generation – for very different reasons.

Among Gen Z and millennials, wearables are lifestyle enhancers. Sleep tracking, stress insights, and gamified fitness goals are baked into daily routines, often synced to social media. According to a 2024 YouGov poll in the US and UK, nearly 60% of millennials who own a wearable use it at least five days a week, while Gen Z’s interest is climbing fastest, especially in India, Indonesia, and the Philippines where affordable models are surging.

For younger users, it’s not just fitness. Wearables help manage anxiety, track menstrual cycles, and even gauge productivity. In Southeast Asia, TikTok influencers regularly promote smartwatch brands with built-in wellness challenges, and the appeal is sticking.

By contrast, Gen X and boomers tend to use wearables with a more clinical lens. In Japan, uptake among older adults rose sharply in the past two years, driven by growing interest in managing hypertension, irregular heart rhythms, and fall risk. Apple’s expanded medical alerts and ECG functions are frequently cited by Japanese media as valuable features for ageing consumers. In the UK, NHS-backed pilot programs are offering wearables to older patients recovering from surgery or managing long-term conditions.

In the US, over 40% of Gen Xers who own a wearable say they’ve shared data with a healthcare provider, up from just 27% in 2021. But privacy concerns linger, especially among Gen Z. Despite their high usage, only 26% of Gen Z respondents to a 2024 eMarketer study said they would be comfortable sharing health data with doctors or insurers – suggesting a growing tension between usage and trust.

Here’s how adoption looks across some of the key markets:

Country/Region	Top Adopting Cohorts	Primary Use Cases	Notable Trends
US	Millennials, Gen X	Sleep, stress, fitness, medical alerts	High usage of subscription models like Fitbit Premium
UK	Millennials, Boomers	Heart monitoring, post-surgery recovery	NHS pilot programs integrating wearable tech
Japan	Boomers	Heart rate, fall detection, medication	Growing adoption in eldercare and wellness insurance schemes
India	Gen Z, Millennials	Step counting, calorie burn, wellness apps	High growth in low-cost smartwatch brands
Indonesia	Gen Z	Fitness tracking, daily health challenges	Influencer marketing fueling adoption
China	All age groups	Everything from fitness to medical alerts	Domestic brands dominate; strong public sector partnerships
Singapore	Millennials, Gen X	Health monitoring, workplace wellness	Wearables integrated into corporate wellness programs
Germany	Boomers, Gen X	Blood pressure, diabetes management	Insurance discounts tied to wearable usage

The generations aren’t divided – they’re stacked. What started with Gen Z is now reshaping how everyone manages health. And the industry knows it.

The Technology Arms Race

The more wearables become part of daily life, the harder tech companies are pushing to stay ahead. And they’re not just making devices faster or sleeker – they’re turning them into medical-grade tools, payment platforms, and personal wellbeing dashboards, all in one.

What started as a step-counting competition is now a full-blown innovation sprint. Apple’s latest Watch models detect arrhythmias and track ovulation patterns through temperature fluctuations. Samsung has layered in blood pressure monitoring and sleep scoring tied to cardiovascular insights. Google-backed Fitbit has pivoted from steps to stress, with its newer models using electrodermal activity sensors to gauge emotional strain in real time.

And it’s not just the big brands. In Japan, wearable developers are exploring integration with long-term care plans, while Singapore’s public health teams have trialled government-backed trackers to incentivise exercise and preventive check-ups. In India and Indonesia, homegrown brands like Noise and Realme are keeping up by offering entry-level smartwatches with features that mirror high-end models – heart rate variability, SpO₂ monitoring, and meditation modes – at a fraction of the cost.

The market is clearly rewarding innovation. Smart rings, once a fringe category, are now booming. Oura has become shorthand for wellness among executives and athletes, while Samsung’s anticipated launch of its Galaxy Ring is already stirring up the category. Analysts at Canalys expect the global smart ring segment to triple by 2026, with Asia leading the growth.

Sensors are getting better, but software is where the race is heating up. The shift toward AI-enabled personalisation means devices are starting to behave less like monitors and more like coaches – detecting patterns, learning user behaviour, and nudging people to take breaks, breathe deeply, or move more. Apple’s upcoming software update includes passive tracking of mental well-being, aiming to surface early indicators of depression and anxiety based on behavioural signals.

This arms race is no longer about having the best display or longest battery. It’s about owning the feedback loop: gathering data, interpreting it meaningfully, and turning that insight into habit-changing nudges. And with more users willing to share health data – whether for clinical support or lifestyle optimisation – tech brands are rapidly becoming key players in the future of healthcare.

The Economics of Adoption in a Soft Economy

The flood of innovation might be grabbing headlines, but it’s the economics of wearables that’s driving their expansion into the mainstream – especially as consumers grow more cost-conscious.

Subscription models are a major pivot point. Fitbit Premium, Whoop, and Apple’s Fitness+ aren’t just upsells – they’re positioning wearables as part of a recurring wellness lifestyle. Fitbit Premium alone now has over 10 million paid users globally, according to Alphabet’s 2024 earnings report. Whoop, which has no upfront device cost and instead charges a monthly fee, has doubled its subscriber base since 2022, banking on athletes and executives willing to pay for deeper recovery and strain insights.

Yet in many markets, recurring costs are a harder sell. That’s where public and private incentives are stepping in. Singapore’s government-led LumiHealth program – developed with Apple – offers financial rewards for completing activity challenges and tracking sleep. In Germany, health insurers like TK and Barmer provide partial reimbursements for certified fitness wearables when used as part of preventive care. These programs aren’t about gadgets – they’re about reducing long-term healthcare costs.

Affordability is also being tackled at the hardware level. In India, for example, wearable brands like Noise and boAt have carved out a dominant position by offering smartwatches with fitness and health tracking features for under ₹2,500 ($30). These devices may lack the polish of premium models, but they’ve dramatically widened access, especially among younger consumers in urban areas. The result? India is now one of the fastest-growing wearables markets in the world, with domestic brands accounting for nearly 75% of total shipments in 2024.

In the US and UK, cost still matters. Refurbished models, bundle deals, and corporate wellness perks are helping buyers justify their spending. Entry prices are falling, but expectations are climbing. People want value – not just on the sticker but in the insights, the ecosystem, and the staying power of the device.

Wearables as Part of the Health Ecosystem

As wearable technology becomes more sophisticated, its integration into the broader health ecosystem is deepening, transforming patient care and preventive health strategies. Today’s devices don’t just count steps – they stream health data to doctors, flag risks in real time, and plug directly into telehealth platforms.

Seamless Integration with Healthcare Systems

In the United Kingdom, the National Health Service (NHS) has initiated pilot programs to incorporate wearable devices into patient care. These programs focus on remote monitoring of patients with chronic conditions, allowing healthcare professionals to track vital signs and detect early signs of deterioration without requiring patients to visit healthcare facilities. This approach not only improves patient outcomes but also alleviates the burden on healthcare resources.

Similarly, in Japan, addressing the needs of an ageing population has led to innovative uses of wearable technology. Companies like Tellus You Care have developed non-contact remote monitoring systems that track the health and safety of elderly individuals. These wearables can detect falls and monitor daily activities, enabling caregivers and medical professionals to respond promptly to emergencies.

Enhancing Telehealth Services

In the United States, the synergy between wearable devices and telehealth applications is revolutionising patient care. Wearables can sync with telehealth platforms, providing clinicians with continuous health data streams. This integration allows for more accurate assessments during virtual consultations and facilitates proactive management of conditions such as hypertension and diabetes. For instance, patients using wearable blood pressure monitors can transmit their readings directly to their electronic health records, enabling healthcare providers to adjust treatments in real-time.

Addressing Data Privacy and Reliability Concerns

Still, the deeper wearables penetrate healthcare, the more they raise questions – especially around privacy. These devices collect a steady stream of highly personal health data, and not everyone knows where that information ends up. Breaches are rare, but when they happen, the fallout is big. Surveys show many users remain unclear about how their data is handled, which puts pressure on tech companies and healthcare providers to be far more transparent.

There’s also the question of how reliable the data really is. Wearables offer useful health snapshots, but they’re not always accurate enough to replace clinical tools. If users or doctors lean too heavily on that information, it can lead to wrong calls – or unnecessary stress. That’s why most healthcare providers treat wearable data as one piece of the puzzle, not the whole picture.

How Singapore Turned Wearables into a Public Health Tool

Image credit: LumiHealth

Singapore may be small in size, but it’s been outsized in ambition when it comes to health tech. In 2020, the government launched LumiHealth, a joint initiative with Apple that turns the Apple Watch into a national wellness tool. The idea was simple: incentivise citizens to stay healthy by gamifying fitness and preventive behaviours.

Participants download an app, pair it with an Apple Watch, and earn vouchers by completing health goals like walking, meditating, or getting flu shots. The rewards are modest – up to S$380 over two years – but the behavioral nudge is powerful. More than 200,000 residents signed up in the program’s first year, with high retention and engagement among older adults and those managing chronic conditions.

What makes LumiHealth notable isn’t just its use of wearable tech, but how it reframes wellness as a shared responsibility between citizen, government, and platform. It’s one of the first large-scale examples of a nation leveraging consumer-grade devices for population health – and a blueprint for how data, design, and nudges can shift real-world behaviour.

The program has also informed broader policy. Health officials now see wearables as part of Singapore’s preventive care strategy. In 2024, pilot extensions were announced to include nutrition tracking and mental wellbeing prompts – making the Watch not just a step counter, but a guide for daily living.

From Devices to Digital Selfhood

As wearables sync more deeply with our health, they’re also syncing with something else: identity.

Fitness trackers and smartwatches are no longer just tools – they’ve become quiet status symbols, wellness affirmations, and, in some cases, lifestyle declarations. Wearing a Whoop band or an Oura ring signals a commitment to optimisation. A Garmin on the wrist might suggest serious training. Even design choices – stainless steel finishes, leather straps, minimalist rings – convey intention. The wearable, in short, has become part of the personal brand.

This isn’t accidental. Tech companies are leaning into the rise of the quantified self: a movement that treats data as a mirror for self-improvement. Sleep scores are shared in group chats. Heart rate variability is discussed on Reddit threads. There’s even a social layer – Apple’s fitness rings can be closed collaboratively, while Fitbit allows real-time challenges with friends. What began as private tracking is now an interactive, sometimes performative, pursuit.

That said, cultural context shapes how wearables are used – and what they mean.

Region	Attitude Toward Wearables	Underlying Values
US & UK	Individualised health and performance tools	Self-optimisation, control, productivity
Japan	Monitors for long-term care and group wellbeing	Safety, longevity, family responsibility
India	Lifestyle enhancers for youth and urbanites	Aspirational health, affordability, digital status
Singapore	Incentivised national wellness participation	Community health, public-private collaboration
China	Everyday convenience tools across all ages	Functional utility, tech-forward lifestyle

In the West, wearable data is often framed in terms of productivity – how to sleep better, train harder, or manage stress. In much of Asia, especially in countries like Japan and Singapore, adoption has leaned more toward collective well-being: tracking to stay safe, support ageing populations, or meet national health goals. While the hardware might be the same, the intention behind it can be radically different.

That’s the shift: wearables aren’t just keeping score anymore. They’re helping shape identity – quiet signals of the kind of life we’re trying to live.

The Future Forecast: Smart Living 2030

If the last decade was about wearables gaining acceptance, the next will be about wearables becoming invisible – fully embedded in our surroundings, our health systems, and our daily decision-making. By 2030, the line between body and technology will blur further, not through flashy upgrades, but through quiet, continuous presence.

One of the most anticipated frontiers is continuous, noninvasive blood glucose monitoring, widely viewed as the “holy grail” of wearables. Major tech players, including Apple and Samsung, have been investing heavily in research to bring this functionality to market. Success here wouldn’t just serve diabetics – it would recalibrate how millions think about food, energy, and performance in real time.

Another inflection point will be emotional health. Devices are beginning to detect mood states based on physical cues – micro-fluctuations in skin temperature, heart rate variability, or voice tone. In the next few years, we may see wearables that can flag the early signs of anxiety, burnout, or depressive episodes before the user is even aware. The implications for preventative mental health are enormous – but so are the ethical questions.

Artificial intelligence will be the connective tissue that binds these advances together. Already, AI is being used to turn raw data into feedback loops, coaching users to adjust behaviours. But by 2030, it’s likely that wearables will be part of more coordinated, multi-device ecosystems – syncing not just with phones and watches but also with smart homes, personal health dashboards, and even city infrastructure.

It’s a shift adjacent industries are already watching closely. Insurers are piloting risk models based on real-time biometric data. Pharma firms are testing wearable-driven trial designs and adherence tools. And in some cities, planners are exploring responsive environments – public spaces that adjust to physiological signals, from light and sound to air quality.

What’s next for wearables won’t be defined by tech specs – but by what people do with the data, and who they’re willing to share it with. Smart living by 2030 may not look like sci-fi. It may just look… seamless.

A Tipping Point for Personal Health

We’ve passed the point where wearables are optional tech accessories. They’ve moved into the domain of lifestyle infrastructure – tools people rely on not just for information, but for insight, motivation, and increasingly, autonomy.

When Apple’s COO Jeff Williams stood on stage at CES and said, “We’re not just building a watch – we’re building a guardian for your wellbeing,” it wasn’t marketing hype. It was a quiet signal of where the industry sees its role going: less device, more guide.

And yet, as wearables grow smarter, more embedded, and more predictive, we’re entering a new kind of contract with our devices – one where personal health is constantly measured, interpreted, and nudged. The convenience is undeniable. The value is rising. But so is the question: who controls the loop?

Will the decade ahead empower us to become more informed, more proactive, and more in tune with our health? Or will we find ourselves outsourcing our instincts to a wristband?

It’s a future being shaped now, one wrist at a time.

Stay ahead

Get regular insights

Keep up to date with the latest insights from our research as well as all our company news in our free monthly newsletter.

Forever 21 is closing its doors – again. Once the crown jewel of American mall culture, the fast-fashion giant is filing for bankruptcy for the second time in under five years. As shuttered storefronts stretch across the US, its downfall has become more than a brand misstep – a sign that the old fast-fashion model is running out of time.

In its place, a new breed of fashion titans is rising. Shein and Temu, two digital-first platforms with Chinese roots, have turned the industry on its head. Their tools? Artificial intelligence, real-time trend scraping, lightning-fast production, and a hyper-personalized consumer journey. These aren’t just cheap alternatives; they’re smart machines designed for a generation that grew up with TikTok, interactive shopping, and constant trends.

Forever 21’s decline isn’t a singular event. It’s part of a deeper market shift – one where legacy playbooks are being rewritten by code, content, and community. As fashion retail becomes more focused on digital channels, brands that do not change may become outdated and irrelevant.

Forever 21’s Fall Signals a Broken Retail Model

Forever 21’s descent didn’t happen overnight. It was a slow unravelling, a brand once emblematic of youth culture now outpaced by the very consumers it once captivated. At its peak, Forever 21 thrived on trend turnover, sprawling mall spaces, and low prices. But the retail landscape changed, and the brand didn’t.

As digital shopping accelerated and consumer expectations shifted, Forever 21 remained tethered to an outdated model – long production cycles, centralized design decisions, and a heavy reliance on brick-and-mortar foot traffic. Its once-successful approach became a liability. While consumers moved toward immediacy and personalization, the company doubled down on bulk inventory, sluggish turnarounds, and static pricing. It failed to keep pace with the velocity of online trend formation – a pace now dictated not by runways or retail calendars but by social feeds refreshed by the second.

The gap widened as Gen Z entered the market. Raised in an era of choice overload, platform-native shoppers sought brands that moved with them – fluid, responsive, and in sync with their aesthetic sensibilities. Forever 21, by contrast, felt stuck. Its collections lagged behind trends. Its online presence was clunky. It couldn’t deliver the frictionless experience digital-native brands were engineering.

Even attempts at reinvention – rebrands, collaborations, and in-store tech integrations – were often too reactive or off-mark. Market research during this period revealed a steady erosion in brand affinity among younger demographics, who increasingly dismissed mall-based fast fashion as outdated, unoriginal, or environmentally negligent. Once buzzing with teens, the retail floors became quieter, the racks fuller, and the margins thinner.

The retail model that once made Forever 21 a sensation has become outdated. And in an industry that now rewards adaptability over legacy, the brand’s decline underscores a critical truth: fashion doesn’t wait.

Shein and Temu Built a Smarter System

While legacy players like Forever 21 struggled to pivot, Shein and Temu were busy rewriting the rules of engagement. What distinguishes them isn’t just speed – it’s the system beneath the surface, a high-velocity engine built on data, automation, and platform-native behaviour. These brands aren’t retailers in the traditional sense; they’re algorithmic marketplaces fueled by machine learning, social signals, and a relentless feedback loop between consumer demand and product creation.

Shein, in particular, operates more like a tech company than a fashion label. Its infrastructure is designed to detect real-time micro-trends, test new styles in limited batches, and scale only the best performers. Instead of seasonal collections, it drops thousands of SKUs daily – each one a calculated bet based on keyword spikes, user behaviour, and social engagement. What used to take legacy brands months now takes Shein days, with entire production cycles compressed into near real-time manufacturing.

Image Credit: Boffin Coders

Temu is building dominance on a different front. Backed by the e-commerce powerhouse PDD Holdings, its model leans heavily on gamification and bottom-dollar pricing, turning shopping into a behavioural loop. Discounts are dynamic, product discovery is algorithmically engineered, and the platform’s addictive scroll mimics social media architecture. Rather than chasing trends, Temu floods the feed with hyper-targeted inventory based on browsing data, purchase history, and behavioural nudges. Brand storytelling becomes secondary to price, pace, and personalization in this context.

Image Credit: Tech Crunch

Both companies excel at bypassing traditional gatekeepers. Instead of relying on expensive ad campaigns or celebrity endorsements, they tap into the power of peer-to-peer virality. TikTok hauls, influencer codes, and affiliate campaigns do more than drive traffic – they create a cultural moment, making shopping a social performance. The result is a decentralized and infinitely scalable distribution model.

Where traditional fast fashion brands pushed products, Shein and Temu pull consumers into a constantly evolving loop of discovery, validation, and conversion. It’s a model built not on intuition but on information, a data-centric approach that doesn’t just respond to the market but often predicts it.

Speed and Price Now Come with a Cost

But the same mechanisms fueling this meteoric rise are now drawing intensified scrutiny. As Shein and Temu scale at breakneck speed, regulators, watchdogs, and increasingly vocal consumer groups are beginning to question the true cost of their success. Investigations into labour practices, environmental degradation, and product safety are no longer confined to fringe activism; they’re reaching mainstream legislative agendas in the U.S. and Europe.

To soften criticism, Shein recently launched a resale platform in the U.S., positioning it as a circular fashion solution. Branded as a way for consumers to buy and sell secondhand Shein items, the initiative appears, on the surface, to nod toward sustainability. But industry experts and environmental advocates have been quick to call it out. Critics argue that the move lacks substance, pointing out that reselling ultra-low-quality garments does little to counteract the brand’s core business model – one built on volume, disposability, and micro-trend churn. The resale program, some say, is more about optics than impact.

Image Credit: Glossy

This tension highlights a bigger issue in the industry. The European Union has suggested tougher rules for transparency in textile imports, and U.S. lawmakers want more oversight on very cheap goods coming in through de minimis loopholes. These regulatory flashpoints are less about fashion and more about accountability – demanding that platforms operating on mass micro-consumption clarify how and where products are made, under what conditions, and at what environmental cost.

At the same time, cultural sentiment is shifting. What was once dismissed as disposable fashion is becoming a reputational risk. High-visibility criticism from sustainability influencers, investigative journalists, and even former brand collaborators is reshaping the narrative around what it means to shop cheap. For a growing subset of consumers, convenience and cost are no longer blind spots; they’re trade-offs weighed against a rising ethical awareness.

Still, the backlash isn’t yet translating into behavioural change at scale. Most consumers prioritize value and speed, even as they express concerns about sustainability. However, the growing friction between convenience and conscience is opening a critical window. For competitors, this is a signal: the future of fast fashion won’t just be about how quickly brands can produce – it will hinge on how transparently they can operate in a world that’s starting to ask harder questions.

Retailers Must Rethink the Entire Playbook

The road ahead demands a fundamental shift in how fashion brands think, operate, and communicate. Survival won’t come from marginal tweaks to legacy systems but from a reengineering of retail itself – beginning with the supply chain.

Brands must move beyond cost efficiency and embrace operational intelligence. That means investing in technologies that enable demand sensing, real-time replenishment, and localized micro-manufacturing. Flexibility is no longer optional; it’s the foundation of relevance.

Equally critical is the evolution of pricing strategy. Competing with Shein and Temu on cost alone is a race few can afford to run. Instead, smart pricing – anchored in perceived value, quality assurance, and ethical sourcing – offers a more sustainable path. Consumers may be price-conscious, but they’re also becoming more aware of what pricing signals. Transparency around why a product costs what it does can strengthen trust and justify margins in a way race-to-the-bottom tactics cannot.

The marketing function must also be rebuilt for the algorithmic age. Traditional seasonal campaigns are losing ground to dynamic, always-on storytelling that responds to cultural shifts and consumer moods in real-time. This is where social commerce becomes critical, not as a trend but as infrastructure. Influencers are not just amplifiers; they’re now co-creators, collaborators, and curators of brand identity. Investing in decentralized content strategies, creator partnerships, and community-led design isn’t a nice to have – it’s how brands remain visible in a crowded, scroll-driven marketplace.

Finally, there’s the matter of trust. Authenticity becomes the ultimate differentiator in an ecosystem flooded with low-cost, high-frequency goods. Brands that can demonstrate their values through verifiable action – whether in ESG commitments, labour transparency, or community impact – will carve out a deeper connection with consumers navigating ethics. It’s not about appealing to everyone; it’s about being clear, consistent, and credible in what you stand for.

The Fast Fashion Reckoning Is Already Here

The fast fashion battleground is no longer about who can flood the market with the most products – it’s about who can navigate a volatile consumer landscape with speed, precision, and purpose. Shein and Temu have exposed the vulnerabilities of legacy brands not just by being faster or cheaper but by building systems attuned to cultural momentum, behavioural data, and the economics of digital attention. But their rise also highlights the limits of optimization when values, trust, and transparency are left out of the equation.

The future belongs to brands that can do both – move at the algorithm’s speed while operating with the discipline of long-term stewardship. Fashion is evolving from a product-based business to a platform-based experience, where relevance is won not once but constantly. For incumbents and challengers alike, this moment is not just a test of resilience. It’s a call to rethink what fashion means in a world where everything can be copied, but not everything can connect.

The rules have changed. What remains is the opportunity for those willing to radically rethink their systems as Shein and Temu have and to act before the next store closes.

Stay ahead

Get regular insights

Keep up to date with the latest insights from our research as well as all our company news in our free monthly newsletter.

From Folk Remedy to Modern Shelf

The Brands Leading the Charge

Science or Speculation

Who Is Buying and Why

The Retail Shift and Supply Chain Pressure

The Fungi Future in CPG

Understand What Today’s Consumers Really Want

Get regular insights

When Search Becomes Suggestion

The Vanishing Middle

How Trust in AI Splits Across Borders

Rethinking Visibility

When Precision Becomes Overreach

Where Did All the Traffic Come From?

When the Shelf Is Chosen for You

From Funnel to Feedback Loop

Get regular insights

The Regional Play

Platform Power and Wallet Wars

How Brands Are Winning in the Wallet Economy

Wallets as Retail Real Estate

How Digital Wallets Are Closing the Financial Gap

Comparing Wallet Ecosystems Across ASEAN

What This Signals

Who Gets Left Behind in a Wallet-Led Economy

A View from the Future Consumer

Get regular insights

Students take control of the edtech narrative.

Khan Academy builds influence through relatability.

Classplus taps regional creators to drive depth over scale.

Zenius turns TikTok into a learning laboratory.

The influence dilemma behind student-led learning

“TikTok is redefining how students access information, but it’s not a substitute for structured learning. Educators must help students think critically about the content they consume.”

Learning becomes a networked, creator-powered ecosystem

Why this matters for brands

Get regular insights

The Perfect Storm Behind the Shift

The Rise of Subscription-Based Vet Care

Regional Perspectives in Transformation

United States: Infrastructure Meets Expectation

United Kingdom: Bridging Gaps with Affordability

Southeast Asia: Mobile-First and Rapidly Scaling

Brand Spotlight: Pawp

Traditional Clinics at a Crossroads

What Subscription Care Reveals About Consumer Psychology

From Reactive to Relationship-Based Care

Get regular insights

Meet the Next Billion: Demographics, Access, and Expectations

Mistrust Is the Default Setting

The Battle for the First Page (or First Screen)

The Rise of Reverse Aspiration and Quiet Power

Strategies to Earn Attention and Trust

What the Next Billion Means for Global Strategy

Get regular insights

From step counters to personal health assistants

Consumer Adoption Across Generations and Borders

The Technology Arms Race

The Economics of Adoption in a Soft Economy

Wearables as Part of the Health Ecosystem

How Singapore Turned Wearables into a Public Health Tool

From Devices to Digital Selfhood

The Future Forecast: Smart Living 2030

A Tipping Point for Personal Health

Get regular insights

Forever 21’s Fall Signals a Broken Retail Model

Shein and Temu Built a Smarter System

Speed and Price Now Come with a Cost

Retailers Must Rethink the Entire Playbook

The Fast Fashion Reckoning Is Already Here

Get regular insights

Helping brands uncover valuable insights

Get In Touch