Shampoo

I take the bus on Tuesdays and Thursdays—just something to break up the week’s worth of commutes, I guess. It takes longer but I don’t have to think. Plus, if I’m honest, I’m not a good driver. Most people wouldn’t admit to that, but I have no associations with vehicle control and self worth and so I admit it freely. I have been in many car accidents. None fatal, but in some cases that was luck.

Mostly I can get a seat to myself, but there are days where the bus is full. I can’t explain it. the patterns of people are as unreadable as the patterns of the weather. You think you understand them but now and again, they break. Floods, wind storms, fires, and public transportation swollen full with us working stiffs.

One such day I was sat next to a man of about 45 or so. Small in stature, balding, bespectacled and sharply dressed. Everything about his outward appearance told the story of a man that had his shit together, was perhaps a bit tightly wound, but was otherwise on the level. My cynicism runs deep perhaps, but I read on his face a job with no fulfillment, 2.5 kids that were working their way up to an age where they would lose respect for him if they hadn’t already reached it, and a loveless marriage to a woman committed to a screen or drink (or both) but little else. So, a man that had his shit together by confining his shit to the balance of his bank account, his credit score, and his commitment to stimulating our economy with his average to middling purchasing power. Same as the rest of us.

Minutes into the commute something snapped inside of him. He began to cry. Quietly at first, but eventually it became hard to ignore him. I was desperate to ignore him. I was, in fact, desperate to ignore every living person that I encountered throughout that day and every other day. I don’t know why. I am not alone. I could not ignore this poor guy, however.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you ok? Can I help you out somehow or would you rather be left alone?”

He explained his situation.

He’s a manufacturer of men’s shampoo and conditioner. He didn’t want to say which brand, but he assured me it’s one that I know. He paused when making this assurance and I got the impression that he could smell just exactly how well I knew this brand. He’s been in charge of operations for 15 years now, no small feat he tells me. This is a cutthroat business, he explained. He makes good choices though, hard choices. Choices that other people don’t want to make sometimes, but he’s in charge and intends to stay in charge. For the first 5 years he kept the company above water. Profits were thin, but sustainable. He kept the job he worked so hard to get each year, but every year it was a dubious prospect that he could last for another. It all came down to human nature, which as any bus rider can tell you, is unpredictable. Most people used a small dollop of conditioner, and followed it with a small dollop of shampoo—perhaps in the reverse order but that has the same outcome. His entire life was balanced on the size of this dollop.

Then, a miracle.

Ten years ago a rumor was spread that baldness would occur unless shampoo is used every three days and without conditioner. Conditioner should be used alone—without shampoo—for the other two days. To someone unfamiliar with the business this may seem like no big deal really, but in truth this was the biggest change the men’s shampoo industry had ever seen.

Something about using one at a time causes people to use more each time. In fact, on average people were using 175% the quantity of whichever product they used on any given day. Each day the size of the dollop was larger, but there was one dollop instead of two. As a result, people used less of the total product but they used more conditioner than they used to. If you did the math (which he did) you would see that after this rumor became widely accepted as fact American men used 58% the quantity of shampoo, but 117% the conditioner each year.

He explained: conditioner is very cheap to make relative to shampoo. On this, he swore me to secrecy. For psychological reasons the bottles are sold for the same price individually, but the profit margins are significantly higher for the conditioner, such that conditioner provided about 10x profit per bottle sold.

Business was a-boomin’.

His life became decadent, which he described to me in great detail and without a hint of self awareness. He wasn’t riding the bus in those days. He was riding a wave, which he admitted to having no hand in creating. He owned a second property in Montana, and a third in Colorado. He rubbed shoulders with politicians, making substantial contributions to their campaigns whenever it suited his interests. His interests were shampoo related and his grip on the market strengthened. He poured himself into the work. Occasionally an alternative hair-cleansing method would sprout up, which was touted as being more ecologically friendly or some other similar bullshit. He had scientists on staff which rebuked any such possible claims whenever they were made. The science was basically sound, only the old standard way of cleansing hair did the job, and the impacts it had on the environment were almost nil. When people wouldn’t listen to the science, he leaned on his political might to hammer any stubborn nails flat. He found himself on TV with pundits sympathetic to his message. His power felt real but tenuous. The wave he rode was a source of great fear for him, since he could not explain how it formed. He spent considerable effort to make sure it couldn’t form again for someone else. The world was not as well informed as he was on the topic of hair. He would spend his last dollar to make sure the world had clean hair, even though it was becoming increasingly impossible to spend his last dollar.

Then, disaster.

The strange way in which people now received information had loosened his hold on the narrative. Shampoo usage had become unpredictable, and subject to the whims of ‘influencers’. These people were easily purchased of course, but it took longer for him to teach the influencers the truth and science which supported a specific usage regiment than it did for other influencers to sprout up and take their place. Vast resources were wasted in this effort. Whole companies were formed on the strength of branding, selling masculinity rather than substance. It became impossible to match the pace of change to the market. Then, one day it settled. An ex-navy seal, and thrice decorated combat vet who had become famous for eating only raw hamburger meat began to evangelize a new shampoo/conditioner cycle. Shampoo and conditioner should each be used separately, every other day. He was adamant that failure to follow this regiment would cause erectile disfunction, baldness, feelings of empathy toward a person whom spurned your sexual advances, and sudden interests in veganism. His hair was unimpeachably beautiful and thick.

Profits crumbled. No scientist, whether in the shampoo maker’s pocket or not, could combat the insecurity of man.

In a desperate gambit they decided to increase the size of the conditioner bottle. The thinking was that people would forget which one they used last and reach for the larger bottle more often than not. This was truly an act of desperation, he explained. Manufacturing an entirely different bottle was costly. To help offset the cost, they now had to sell the shampoo and conditioner packaged together.

“Do you know the problem though?” He asked.

”Well… the way I do it is I put the bottle I used…”

”… yes, yes, you put it in the back, furthest away from you in the shower, then each day you used the closest one. That’s the solution, and I’ll bet you think you’re clever. Well you might have been a year ago. A year ago research indicated that only 11% of American males would solve this problem. That number today is 45% and rising. If it gets to 60% that’s the tipping point. I’ll be unable to repay the substantial loans to produce the different bottle size. The business will fold.”

He collapsed his head into his hands and began to sob. He explained that his hefty wallet had poisoned him. He had lost count of how many times he had stepped outside his marriage. It was only now—with relative poverty—that he was beginning to understand the transactional nature of these affairs. His confidence and self worth had been shattered upon this realization. His wife knew between nothing and everything. He didn’t know because they hadn’t had a meaningful conversation in years. She had been distracted too, he explained. He knew between nothing and everything about that too.

He didn’t even want to get back on top of the world, he just wanted things to go back to the way they were. Shampoo and conditioner in equal measure, every day. Modest profits. A chance to meet his wife’s gaze again. A life free from the poisonous influence of power.

What a sad sonofabitch.

That next day, after I finished using the shampoo I hesitated before placing it in the back. I decided to use both. Fuck it. I did that for 3 days. I felt bliss, until the 3rd day when I saw another despondent man on the bus talking with another passenger. I could hear the conversation. It was the EXACT same story. The infidelity. The influencer. The wave. Beat for beat. Verbatim.

Then it happened again on the 5th day.

Actors. Hired by BIG shampoo to disseminate false information and sway the market. What a mind fuck.

For 2 years I practiced a strict shampoo / conditioner every other day regiment. Nothing could sway my relentless and sure placement of the just used bottle behind the unused bottle each day. I was like a Swiss clock. For 2 years I told this story at parties. Everyone that heard me was blown away and instantly converted. It spread like wild fire.

Then, 2 years on I was standing in the shower, with 12 unopened bottles of conditioner since they are sold together but I don’t use them at the same rates what with the larger bottle and all.

“shit…”

I shaved my head.

It was not possible to find any unbiased information on the topic of hair. When there’s money to be made, I have found that incentives poison any possibility of truth. The limits that an industry would go to manipulate me felt beyond my imagination now. I had to cut my puppet strings. I admit, I have been spending a lot of money on razors. Plus, I need lots of products to keep the top of my head looking good. This stuff isn’t cheap, in fact I’m spending a lot more money and time now to maintain a lack of hair. It’s funny, I would never have considered doing this before. It’s kind of a pain in the ass. Much harder than washing my hair used to be. A lot of other guys are doing this now too, I’ve noticed. They probably reached the same conclusion that I did, desiring to know for certain that they are no longer being manipulated.

It’s a great feeling.