by When most people think of Apple, they think of devices: iPhones, MacBooks, iPads and Apple watches. The product catalog seems straightforward — sleek, high-tech tools that look good and work well. But peel back the aluminum and glass, and you’ll find that Apple isn’t really selling hardware. At its core, (bad pun, but I couldn’t help myself) Apple is selling connection.
Think about it: The iPhone allows us to FaceTime our families, text our friends and share our lives in real time. Apple’s devices are designed, above all, to help us communicate — with each other, with the world, even with ourselves. AirPods aren’t just headphones; they’re a direct line to podcasts, calls, meetings and messages. iCloud doesn’t just back up your photos; it makes your digital life portable and communal. Apple’s business isn’t about machines — it’s about human interaction.
The more I chewed on that thought, the more I realized that this isn’t unique to Apple. Many of the most successful companies thrive not because of what their products are, but because of what their products mean or enable.
Consider the following:
- Nike doesn’t just sell shoes. It sells identity, aspiration and the feeling of being an athlete — no matter your fitness level. A pair of sneakers becomes a symbol of discipline, drive and potential.
- Starbucks doesn’t just serve coffee. It sells a “third place” — not quite home, not quite work, not quite a haven, but somewhere in between. A safe space for conversation, contemplation and community.
- Tesla doesn’t just manufacture electric vehicles. It sells a vision of the future, autonomy and environmental stewardship wrapped in performance and luxury.
- Lego doesn’t just make plastic bricks. It sells creativity, storytelling and the ability for kids and adults alike to imagine entire worlds — one interlocking piece at a time.
In each of these examples, the product is a vessel. What really drives value is the emotional and functional utility beyond the object.
What about us?
Now consider furniture. A table, a sofa, a bed. Simple objects, right? But ask anyone about their favorite chair or their childhood dining table and you’ll realize something deeper is going on. Furniture shapes our lives. It creates the stage for memories, routines, rituals and comfort.
Yet the furniture industry, especially at the mass market level, has largely failed to tell that story. A few weeks ago, my mailbox was flooded with July Fourth sales flyers from big-boy furniture stores we all know.
Sadly, negatives — no down payment, no interest, no payments for months and months were the stars of the stars-and-stripes promotions. Why does this industry continue to do this?
Why don’t more retailers make the case that furniture isn’t only functional — it’s foundational. Your sofa isn’t just a place to sit. It’s where your child falls asleep in your lap. Your dining table isn’t just a slab of wood. It’s where birthdays are celebrated and life is shared.
Instead of pushing discounts our industry could benefit from reframing what furniture really offers: safe havens, emotional comfort, a sense of stability and belonging.
In a world that (at least to me) feels increasingly chaotic, why don’t we celebrate how the furniture in your home can anchor you. That’s a much more powerful message than “$200 off.”
Great brands don’t just sell what a product does — they sell what it means. Apple is a tech company, but what it really sells is human connection. Nike sells movement and meaning. Starbucks sells belonging. Tesla sells hope and change.
Furniture makers have the same opportunity. Stop selling sofas. Start selling sanctuary. Stop marketing beds as budget buys. Start marketing them as nests, as personal retreats, as places where life regenerates.
Because people don’t just buy what they need. They buy what they feel. And when the furniture industry starts to speak to that deeper emotional need, it won’t just sell more — it’ll matter more.
Decades ago, when I first started reporting on the furniture industry, I asked the then president of one of the most respected brands in the business to tell me one thing that would help me understand the industry I was getting ready to report on.
He looked at me for quite some time, then shaking his head said, “Stick around long enough and you will see that this is an industry that eats its young.”
At the time I had no clue what he meant. I do now.
Maybe it is time for our industry to change its eating habits.
