Black Friday isn’t an event anymore — it’s a strategy.
I’ve always considered myself a shopping addict. I never turn down a sale, and my bank account lives in fear of my impulse-buying habits. But this year, as I was scrolling through the so-called Pre-Black Friday deals, it hit me: Black Friday isn’t what it used to be.
What started as a single day of chaotic, bargain-hunting stampedes — and the hilarious videos that followed — has dissolved into a months-long shopping season. Everything seems to be always on sale, yet nothing feels like a bargain anymore.
Retailers would rather have you think that you’re getting a deal. That’s why we now have “Black Friday in July,” “VIP Days” and “Pre-Black Friday.” These sales aren’t about offering value; they’re about shaping your shopping habits, keeping your attention and making sure you spend more than ever.
Even Amazon’s mega sale days come around more frequently, yet somehow consumers are saving less. Retailers routinely inflate prices before discounting them, creating the illusion of huge markdowns while quietly padding profits. The old-school doorbusters — once so good they spawned riots — have either vanished or become bait to get you through the door or on the website, where the real goal is to upsell you.
And the items you actually want? They rarely go on sale. Sure, Black Friday may still host the “best” sales of the year, but the products people watch all year often stay firmly at full price.
Meanwhile, as sales multiply, so does spending. The psychology of saving money fuels impulse buying, and according to MNP, 41 per cent of Canadians regret how much they spend over the holidays. This year, the National Retail Federation expects total consumer spending to surpass $1 trillion. That means more unpaid credit cards, debt and regret. These sales aren’t helping us save money — they’re pushing us to buy more.
In the past few years, the goal has quietly shifted from selling the same stuff at a lower price to selling more stuff at a barely discounted price. Keep customers convinced they’re getting a deal, and they’ll keep spending all year — especially during the holidays. The original idea of scarcity has all but vanished.
Black Friday isn’t dead, but it’s been redesigned to exploit your habits. The formula hasn’t changed: use psychology to push consumption. Instagram and other platforms flood you with ads from stores you already shop at, showcasing the exact items you were just looking at now magically “on sale.”
A decade ago, Black Friday was basically a single weekend. Canadians barely even acknowledged it, since Boxing Day was the real markdown marathon. But as habits shifted and holiday shopping ballooned, more sales were added, and more people bought more than they needed — all under the illusion of getting a “bang for their buck.”
This became clearest with the rise of the midsummer pseudo-holiday known as Prime Day. It started as a single day where Prime members could get early Black Friday-level discounts. Now? Two Prime Days — one in July, one in October — stretched into entire weeks with pre-Prime Day teasers. And after all that, Amazon still goes all-out for Black Friday and Boxing Day, exploiting workers and your wallet. What’s striking is how well it works.
If discounts happen constantly, why do we pretend these events are special? The marketing blitz may feel intense this time of year, but let’s be honest: the Black Friday deals we see now are nearly identical to the ones from October, and July. Amazon isn’t alone — every major retailer has joined the year-round sale cycle.
We’re living in a system where value is blurred, urgency is manufactured, and pricing is gamified. Shopping starts to feel a bit like gambling — especially during the holidays.
Black Friday didn’t get bigger. It got diluted. It’s no longer one moment to score a deal; it’s a year-round structure built to keep you consuming. We all see the game being played. So why are we playing it more enthusiastically than ever?