Gen Z's love-hate relationship with discounts

"Billions in subsidies", "free meals", "zero-cost purchases" — these ultra-low-price promotions from food delivery platforms are sweeping across China's catering industry.

Since May, over 10 provincial-level cuisine and dining industry associations — including those from Beijing, Chongqing, and Shandong — have issued open letters urging platforms to stop "involution-style" competition and instead promote standardized, healthy, and sustainable development.

They warn that such disorderly competition harms the interests of all parties involved — platforms, merchants, and consumers.

"Voucher just for you", "Popular deals, free bubble tea" — for millions of young office workers, these pop-up alerts are more effective wake-up calls than any alarm clock.

From grabbing breakfast pancakes to ordering late-night fried chicken, the era of "subsidized prices" has quietly taken hold, reshaping how Gen Z spends their money.

For cash-strapped young consumers, these subsidies feel like a godsend. Whether they're new graduates, mortgage-burdened employees, or struggling students, they all share the same thrill when landing a super coupon — like hitting a mini jackpot.

When major food delivery platforms like Meituan and Ele.me battle for lunch orders, or e-commerce giants JD.com and Pinduoduo race to clear consumers' digital shopping carts, budget-savvy Gen Z "coupon warriors" might seem like the victors.

For youth squeezed between skyhigh rents and rising costs, every meal deal and bubble tea discount becomes a tangible sanity-saver. E-commerce platforms now weaponize convenience: fast delivery, precise recommendations, and buttery-smooth interfaces keep you swiping.

Yet capitalism's oldest rule still holds: there's no such thing as a free lunch. Countless small eateries now find themselves caught in the subsidy war, forced to sacrifice profits just to gain visibility. As platforms push vendors toward deeper discounts to capture market share, order volumes soar while profits plummet.

Some respond by cutting corners: braised chicken portions shrink, bubble tea cups are filled with more ice than tea, fresh greens are swapped for frozen alternatives, and premium meats are replaced with cheaper cuts.

To meet tight deadlines and razor-thin margins, premade meals and industrial food kits have become the norm in kitchens across the country. In this race to the bottom, principled restaurants face two options — compromise their values or close down. The soul-warming authenticity of street food culture is at risk, its flavors diluted by artificial discounts.

Even more worrying is how bargain hunting reshapes our mindset. When rock-bottom prices take center stage, are we buying what we truly need, or simply chasing deals? And what happens when these subsidies disappear?

If competition focuses only on undercutting prices rather than improving service or efficiency, it risks stifling innovation. Diminishing choices and declining quality could drain the market of vitality. In this "war", there are no true winners.

As the primary targets of this subsidy frenzy, Gen Z still relishes the thrill of coupon raids, flash sales, and group buys. But beneath the surface, our consumption instincts dull, and the habit of over-purchasing grows quietly in the background.

In a world full of temptations, true adulthood means knowing when to enjoy the deal — and when to walk away.

Subsidy storms are temporary. Life always returns to its baseline. The real skill lies in spending wisely, without losing clarity amid the noise.

Written by Sun Yixue, dean of the International School at Tongji University in Shanghai. His research focuses on comparative literature, world literature, and the international dissemination of Chinese culture. He has conducted postdoctoral research at the University of Edinburgh in the UK and has been a senior visiting scholar at the University of Virginia and Arizona State University in the US.