COVID-19 marked a massive shift in how America shops. E-commerce became the status quo, and its finger-tap convenience became habitual. Companies like Amazon and DoorDash, which were already thriving in the from-your-coach digital market, set the example for other companies Walmart, Target and Macy’s, all of which prioritized door-to-door delivery or in-store pickup options. As e-commerce took off, the actual mall-shopping experience died.
Malls took some of the biggest blows during COVID-19 — safety regulations and online shopping innovations made malls not only inconvenient but unsafe. Century 21, Lord + Taylor and JCPenney all filed for bankruptcy during the pandemic, leaving titanic commercial spaces, and sometimes entire malls, completely and post-apocalyptically empty.
That abandonment still reverberates today. Estimates indicate that, out of the 1,200 malls in the United States right now, roughly only 900 will remain by 2028. If malls want to survive, they’re going to have to innovate. A lot of the companies that scraped by during COVID did so in large part due to their shift to online retail. While the obvious answer for these companies seems to be a continued prioritization of their online sector, it turns out that Gen Z — the most chronically online generation — is craving the actual experience of shopping, not the finger-tap. Shoppers aged 18 to 24 made 62% of their general merchandise purchases in physical stores last year, compared to 52% among consumers aged 25 and older. Gen Z retail spending is expected to surpass $12 trillion globally by 2030. Simply put, we’re spending money, and we’d rather do it in-person.
The malls are catching on to this, and we’re already starting to notice a massive shift in how they cater to new Gen Z shoppers. Despite the deteriorating ethos surrounding malls, investors are seeing potential in the experience of shopping, abandoning the strictly material definition of what a mall can be. The select malls thriving across America right now are the ones with go-karts, roller skating, rock-climbing gyms, pickleball and more. Some malls are also prioritizing high-end restaurants and steakhouses, rooftop bars and skate parks.
It’s this refocus on experience that we really need. Now that online commerce is dominating the more trivial, chore-like side of shopping, malls have the opportunity to step in and become the fun uncle Gen Z shoppers are looking for. Malls used to be the everything destination, with a dedicated “fun” sector (picture the archetypal hair gel-infused roller rinks of the 80s); now, it seems they have to adapt by expanding their recreational sides.
With this opportunity in front of us, it’s important that we get creative and take the time to reimagine what malls can become. As new community hubs, malls could host indoor public parks and local concerts. The Department of Motor Vehicles could set up shop next to a pickleball court next to Guitar Center. It’s a rare intersection of community and capitalism that could bring people out of their homes and into fun, interactive spaces.
Personally, I’m not the biggest fan of shopping, but I’m happy to see malls moving in this direction. Online shopping is undeniably convenient, but I think its accessibility is incredibly unhealthy. We should ask a cashier about their day when checking out our groceries. We should get sizing advice from the employees running the changing rooms. We should say “please” and “thank you” when ordering our food instead of tapping three buttons and opening our front doors.
A new brand of community center — one that incorporates green space and high-quality local restaurants and shopping and pickleball — could be the breath of life this country needs. I reflect on the reasons why seasonal depression runs so rampant here at Dartmouth. It’s not just the cold; it’s the lack of communal activity. Northeast recreational malls could fight the brutal, disengaged winters, and southern ones could help beat the heat and bring everyone together. COVID demonstrated a life with no human interaction and utter couch-potato-ness — seasonal depression on steroids, if you will — that was devastating. Ordering a meal and a new outfit in fewer than five taps of a screen is terrifyingly devoid of the very things that make life worth living. Malls are far from dead — they’re an opportunity for us to bring a little life to a world in desperate need of community.
Opinion articles represent the views of their author(s), which are not necessarily those of The Dartmouth.
