
Andrew Wardlaw, Chief Ideas Officer
24 Feb, 2026 | 7 minutes
You may have seen Matt Shumer’s recent essay warning us that AI may reshape society at a pace that makes COVID feel like a tremor before the earthquake.
That may prove true. But while business leaders debate the future, something equally disruptive is unfolding in the present: growing evidence that consumer behaviour is shifting faster than most brands are adapting.
Over the six months, I’ve conducted in-depth assessments of the goings-on in areas such as consumer health, alcohol, homecare and beauty. Different categories. Different needs. Different usage occasions. And yet, the same pattern appears everywhere.
The assumptions on which consumer goods companies have thrived for decades are eroding in real time and much of the industry is behaving as if a reformulation here and a pack refresh there will be enough. It won’t.
Without question, people are tired. Not in a fleeting, post-workweek way, but in a structural, cultural sense.
In China, ‘lying flat’ has become shorthand for rejecting relentless striving. In the West, ‘quiet quitting’ reflects rising resistance to burnout culture. An eye-popping illustration of this comes from a Robert Walters survey which found that 69% of UK based Gen Z professionals are reluctant to take middle-management roles because of the stress and limited upside.
Younger generations are redefining success around wellbeing, autonomy and emotional stability rather than status and accumulation. And these are the people who are incidentally taking charge over the destiny of CPG manufacturers.
This is not a trend cycle. It is a redefinition of what a good life looks like. And it is filtering directly into consumption. People are not simply buying differently. They are living differently.
In food and beverage, the era of mindless consumption is ending. Consumers are making increasingly intentional decisions about what they eat and drink - not through dramatic lifestyle overhauls, but through small, repeatable choices that promise longevity, metabolic stability and cognitive clarity - and so much more.
This helps explain why fibre claims are rising in appeal alongside protein, why gut health has moved mainstream, and why everyday snacks are being repositioned around satiety and functional benefit. PepsiCo’s decision to rebalance its snacking portfolio toward permissible, functional and portion-controlled options feels very much like a catch-up manoeuvre.
The impulse aisle is no longer just about pleasure. It has become a site of micro-wellness decisions. In one of its boldest moves, PepsiCo rebranded its mainstream Sun Bites as fibre-rich. Be in no doubt, functionality is now mainstream everywhere.

For further evidence of monumental shifts, we can look to the alcohol category. Its struggles are often framed around rising health concerns and economic pressure. But those explanations miss a deeper behavioural shift: people are spending their time and their social energy very differently.
Gaming has become one of the dominant social environments on the planet. Streaming culture has normalised staying in. Social media delivers connection without physical proximity. Asahi Group Holdings has publicly acknowledged gaming as its number one competitor - an extraordinary admission for a global brewer.
The growth of RTDs, mid-strength options and ‘mini pleasures’ reflects an industry adapting to moderation and new occasions. But the deeper challenge remains unresolved: how do brands foster connection in a world where algorithms increasingly shape social life? Can alcohol establish itself as an antidote to algorithmic isolation at a time when many of us are consciously pulling back from our phones?
What is emerging is not simply moderation, but social re-engineering. Younger consumers are curating their social energy more carefully, protecting their time, sleep and mental bandwidth. Nights out now compete not only with wellness goals and budgets, but with frictionless digital companionship and on-demand entertainment that asks less and gives immediate reward. In this context, alcohol’s historic role as a social lubricant is no longer guaranteed.
In a recent episode of the Impact Makers podcast, I argued that alcohol brands must design explicitly for connection. That means building more inclusive repertoires - offering the same beverage across variable ABVs, for example, so mixed-drinking groups can share a single ritual. It also means creating products that complement the leisure pursuits people increasingly choose, from gaming and streaming to creative hobbies and self-improvement. If connection is becoming more intentional and less habitual, the opportunity is not to chase volume, but to re-earn alcohol’s place as a catalyst for meaningful togetherness: moments worth leaving the house for, worth putting the phone away for, and worth remembering the next morning.
From alcohol, we turn to the cleaning aisle - where further evidence of fundamental change is equally hard to ignore.
An unexpected emotional dimension has emerged. Cleaning is no longer purely functional; it is rapidly becoming ritualistic and therapeutic. Research conducted by MMR in partnership with Toluna found that 71% of consumers across the US and UK say cleaning feels genuinely calming or therapeutic, while 27% report choosing cleaning products primarily for how they make them feel rather than how they perform. In other words, emotional outcome is beginning to rival functional efficacy.
In a world defined by polycrisis and uncertainty, wiping surfaces and restoring order in one’s sock drawer offers a sense of control when larger forces feel uncontrollable. The rise of brands such as Tallow + Ash, smol and Kinfill reflects a growing appetite for aesthetics, ritual and intentionality. Meanwhile, established players are engineering escapism into the category - from scent journeys that evoke Mediterranean coastlines to textures designed to make cleaning feel sensorially rewarding rather than purely utilitarian.
Cleaning, it seems, has evolved into a coping mechanism disguised as a chore - a small, controllable act of restoration in a world that often feels anything but orderly.
Perhaps the most revealing shift is unfolding in beauty. As global instability intensifies - from climate anxiety and geopolitical tension to the existential uncertainty surrounding AI - consumers are asking more from the products they apply to their bodies.
From MMR’s most recent global study, the strongest shared sentiment was not about appearance but identity and emotional wellbeing: ‘For me, beauty is about feeling good, confident, and empowered in my own skin.’ Beauty is increasingly framed as emotional armour rather than aesthetic enhancement.
In concept testing, innovations positioned around emotional regulation and stress support ranked among the most appealing propositions. Neuro-skincare, which is still niche and poorly understood emerged as one of the strongest ideas when expressed in human terms: ‘formulas that work with the skin’s nerve endings to soothe stress-related sensitivity and restore balance.’ In the US and UK, this proposition ranked third out of thirty-five possible innovation directions. And that’s hugely illuminating, is it not?
Be in no doubt: beauty is moving beyond surface correction toward emotional support. In an anxious age, skincare is becoming a daily regulation ritual, not merely helping people look better, but helping them feel steadier, more resilient, and more in control.

And if all this feels urgent now, it will become existential in the agentic era of shopping. As AI begins to manage routine purchasing, brands will not win through awareness alone. They will be surfaced because they are trusted, useful and endorsed by communities.
The products that rise will be those that solve meaningful problems, deliver genuine benefit and earn advocacy in peer networks and forums. In a world where algorithms increasingly mediate choice, cultural credibility and functional value will matter more than advertising reach.
None of us are the same people we were five years ago. We are more pressured, more intentional and more protective of our wellbeing. Increasingly, we are looking to everyday products for support.
This is not a passing shift. It is a reset.
The question is not whether change is coming. It is whether consumer goods companies are willing to recognize the scale of it before relevance slips out of reach. Because the greatest risk facing CPG is not disruption. It is complacency.