"When the doors open, we move toward the entrance in an orderly march. There's a small gasp upon entry-the kind of quiet awe that one feels before the most epic human achievements, as when stepping across the threshold of St. Peter's or the Chartres Cathedral. But in this place, there is no baroque majesty, no stained glass, just abundance bathed in light."
"But there's something happening at Costco that I think goes beyond bell peppers (note that my family eats a lot of them, and, boy, are they a bargain). Costco is a marvel not just historically but also in this moment. In an age of broken institutions, insufferable politics, and billionaire businessmen auditioning to be Bond villains, most things feel like they're getting worse."
Shoppers arrive early, park near cart returns, and wait in an orderly march for doors to open. Entry provokes a quiet awe, not from grandeur but from overwhelming abundance and low prices. The store offers bulk staples, cheap food, and the comfort of plentiful supply in a history marked by scarcity. Employees tend to be satisfied and customers relish bargains, producing mutual contentment. Costco functions as a stable institution where cooperation, courtesy, and pragmatic adult behavior prevail amid broader social and political disarray.
Read at The Atlantic
Unable to calculate read time
Collection
[
|
...
]