Grocery store study shows need for connection in bananas

Want attention? Act sad, which will make people more likely to choose you.

At least that's the conclusion based on how we treat bananas. Seriously. It's a lesson from bananas–at least that's according to folks at The Conversation, which publishes informative articles by academic experts for the general public.

The Conversation folks found that shoppers, at least, are attracted to sad bananas.

Yes. This is a column about sad bananas.

Let's start with the basics. Bananas are displayed the same way in all grocery stores: In bunches of four, five or six. When we buy bananas, we buy them in bulk, but not too much bulk. Nobody buys a 12-pack of bananas (if such a thing exists) and most of us want at least four to make it seem worthwhile. There's a sweet spot: Enough bananas to make it worth buying and not so much that they'll go bad.

It's more than one. Probably less than seven.

Bananas grow in bunches, like a large family (why do you think the TV show was called "The Brady Bunch?"). At the grocery store, though, bananas sometimes get separated. A banana falls off the bunch or, more likely, someone pulls off a single banana because they want to buy four, not five. 

That results in lone-wolf bananas. You've seen them in the store, apart from the group, isolated. They're like people sitting alone in a restaurant or watching the movies alone. You don't know if they're sad or if that's their choice. But you're reluctant to go sit next to them.

Similarly, we rarely buy a single banana. No, you want a bunch. You want four or five. You don't want Tito Jackson; you want the Jackson 5.

As a result, grocery stores often throw out solo bananas, creating food waste.

There have been efforts to change that. A German grocery store chain sells individual bananas as "singles," perhaps figuring that if people will buy single cans of soda, they'll buy single bananas. It hasn't been particularly successful, but the people at The Conversation came up with a tweak to the single-banana plan that just may work.

They gave the fruit personalities and a story.

With the approval from some grocery stores, The Conversation people separated solo bananas into three groups, putting them in crates with signs above them.

Above one crate, they put an image of a banana with a sad face and a sign that said, "We are sad singles and we want to be bought as well."

Above another, there was a banana with a happy face and a sign that said, "We are happy singles and we want to be bought as well."

Above the third crate, there was no banana face, just a sign that said, "Here are single bananas that want to be bought as well."

What do you think was the result?

If you remember what I wrote earlier, you get an A+. The sad-message bananas sold much faster than the others. People felt bad for the bananas! They wanted to meet the bananas' needs by buying them, taking them home, ripping off their peels and eating them (or maybe people didn't think that all the way through).

Those who conducted the study looked into it further and found the same approach works for tomatoes  (although buying a single tomato seems much more normal than buying a single banana.) The findings match up with studies about how we view humans–that we have an innate desire to assist those who are struggling to connect with others.

It may be the awkward kid you see who just wants to fit in. Or the person you know who really wants friends. Or maybe that banana in the produce section, cast off from his family.

The purpose of the banana study was to evaluate whether there are ways to decrease food waste. A lot of grocery store food gets thrown out and maybe if it were just marketed right, we'd be more interested in a single carrot or a potato or stalk of broccoli.

Bananas are a great fruit. But with this study, perhaps bananas taught us their greatest lesson: That whether it's a fruit or a person, there's something in us that wants to help it connect with others.

People may want to be alone. Bananas may be fine as a solo act. But there's something marvelous that we naturally want to help the "sad bananas" of life make a connection.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@outlook.com.