Light and bright, cheap and cheerful: IKEA's 400-plus outlets(专营店)in 49 countries all run on the same central principle. Customers do as much of the work as possible, in the belief they are having fun and saving money. You drive to a distant warehouse, built on cheap out-of-town land. Inside, you enter a maze(迷宫)—no shortcuts allowed—where every twist reveals new furniture.
Compared with the prices of other outlets, IKEA's are much lower. You load up your trolley with impulse(冲动)buys—a clock, storage boxes, tools and more chairs than you will ever use. You drag cardboard boxes, cupboards and tables into your car and reward yourself for your economy and good taste. Then you drive home and put your prizes together. You are satisfied with the bargains. IKEA is satisfied with your money.
The company's name was a do-it-yourself job, too. IKEA stands for Ingvar Kamprad, from Elmtaryd—his family's farm—in Agunnaryd. That village is in the Smaland region of southern Sweden. Mr Kamprad founded IKEA aged 17. Well before that, he spotted a principle which would make him one of the richest men in the world: that customers like buying goods at wholesale prices(批发价). First he bought matches in large quantities and sold them by the box. Aged ten, he sold pens in the similar way.
Drawbacks inspired him. Facing a price war against his low-cost mail-order furniture business, he defeated competitors by opening a showroom. Dealers tried to crush Mr Kamprad and banned him from their trade fairs. He slipped in, hiding in a friend's car. When they tried to threaten his suppliers, he relied on his own workers, and secretly sold his production to communist Poland. Decades later, east Europeans freed from the planned economy drove hundreds of miles to newly opened outlets in Moscow and Warsaw.
His self-discipline was world-famous. As a child, he removed the "off" button from his alarm clock to stop himself oversleeping. He rarely took a first-class seat. The wine didn't get you there any earlier, he sniffed; having lots of money was no reason to waste it. He bought his clothes in second-hand markets, and for years drove an elderly Volvo until he had to sell it on safety grounds. He had his haircut in poor countries to save money. Visitors admired the views, but were surprised that his house was so shabby. He worked well into his eighties.
His industry and simple way of life set a good example to his 194,000 "co-workers". But he was not mean. The point of cutting costs was to make goods affordable, not to compromise quality. He urged his staff to reflect constantly on ways of saving money, time and space. An improved design that allows easier piling means shipping less air—and more profit.
Culture was more important than strategy. He disliked "exaggerated(言过其实的)planning", along with financial markets and banks. Better to make mistakes and learn from them. And use time wisely: "You can do so much in ten minutes. But ten minutes once gone are gone for good." This did not apply to customers. The longer they stayed the better.
Mr Kamprad's impact on modern life can be compared with that of Henry Ford and the mass-produced motor car. Furniture used to be expensive, dark and heavy. For many people, decorating a home could cost many months' salary. IKEA made furniture not just affordable and functional, but fun. The mission was civilizational, he felt, changing how people lived and thought.
His approach drew some fire. The company values struck some as unpleasant. At IKEA's Corporate Culture Centre, lots of pictures of Mr Kamprad with his mottos can be seen everywhere. What's worse, some parts of the supply chain seemed to have serious problems to overcome.
