Guest article by Mark Rosenbaum.
In the realm of marketing research, true breakthroughs often come not from laboratories or focus groups, but from real-world observations that challenge existing paradigms. My own eureka moment emerged from the intersection of personal tragedy, academic pursuit, and an unexpected community flourishing within the vinyl booths of a neighborhood diner.
A Lesson in Loss and Connection
Prior to beginning my Ph.D. program at Arizona State University, my life took a painful turn when my father passed away, leaving my mother a widow. In her loneliness, she found solace in an unexpected place—a neighborhood diner called Kappy’s. What began as a practical solution to meal preparation soon transformed into something far more meaningful. She began visiting three times daily, becoming part of a vibrant social network where regulars had their names emblazoned on brass plates affixed to their designated booths. The commitment ran deep; if she planned to miss a meal, protocol dictated she call ahead, as her absence would be noted and the owner would call to make sure she was alright.
When I met the General Manager, Big George, his words would unknowingly plant the seed for my entire research direction: “God brings people to Kappy’s for a reason.” At first, this seemed like casual conversation, but those words would eventually crystallize into the foundation of my academic work.
Academic Disconnection
At ASU, I immersed myself in studying market orientation, satisfaction, and loyalty. The academic literature defined loyalty as a commitment, measuring it through various constructs and metrics. Around 1999, Richard Oliver’s concept of “ultimate customer loyalty” emerged—a phenomenon where a person’s self-identity and social identity become intimately connected to the consumption of a specific product, like Harley Davidson motorcycles.
Yet this theory, while compelling for high-ticket items with strong brand communities, failed to explain what I was witnessing at Kappy’s. How could existing frameworks account for diner regulars who patronized the establishment nearly daily? The financial investment was minimal compared to luxury products, yet the commitment appeared equally profound, if not deeper.
Methodological Pivot
Recognizing that current theory couldn’t explain this phenomenon, I turned to Grounded Theory Methodology. I reached out directly to Barney Glaser, the founder of Grounded Theory at Sociology Press. My first words to him—”you’re still alive!”—became an amusing anecdote he never forgot. This connection would lead to my participation in Glaser’s annual meetings and shape my methodological approach.
My dissertation co-chairs at ASU, Amy Ostrom and Beth Walker, recognized the unique opportunity unfolding at Kappy’s. With funding from the Center for Services Leadership, I was empowered to do something unusual in marketing research: simply “hang out” with the diner regulars, observing their interactions and understanding the social ecosystem they had created.
The Birth of Transformative Service Research
What I discovered in 2003 would become foundational to transformative service research. The consumption happening at Kappy’s wasn’t primarily about food and beverage—it was intrinsically linked to well-being. My work on place attachment at the diner would influence my future investigations in diverse settings: video arcades, fitness clubs, senior centers, and cancer resource centers. In each context, I observed how market exchanges held the potential to transform personal well-being through social connection.
My eureka moment forced me to reconsider what drives consumption. I recalled my college years working as a shoe salesman at Saks Fifth Avenue, where I realized my job extended far beyond selling footwear. Customers would share life stories as we “kibbitzed,” and the purchase often seemed secondary to the human connection. I began to understand loneliness as a powerful driver of consumption, with social connection as the true product being sought across countless market exchanges.
The Profound Power of Place
The General Manager’s casual observation—”God brings people to Kappy’s for a reason”—revealed a profound truth: community, belonging, and even spirituality can be linked to particular places. When this happens, the resulting person-place bond creates a profound attachment that transcends traditional notions of customer loyalty.
I remember asking a customer why she left a $20 tip on a $16 bill. Her response illuminated everything: “Ruthie (the waitress) listened to me for an hour. If I went to a psychologist, this would have cost me $120, so, honey, this is a bargain.” In that moment, the transformational role of the diner became crystal clear—it wasn’t selling pancakes; it was selling belonging, connection, and emotional well-being.
Legacy and Continuation
I remain grateful to Arizona State University for encouraging my exploration of “third places” in consumers’ lives—those spaces neither home nor work where community forms and identity flourishes. The concepts that emerged—place identity, place dependency, sense of place—have continued to guide my research throughout my career.
As traditional retail spaces and diners increasingly shutter in our digital age, I wonder about the future of these vital connection points. The power of place remains a central concern in my work, as I continue to study how physical environments shape our social experiences and well-being.
My marketing eureka moment wasn’t about discovering a new promotional technique or pricing strategy—it was recognizing that behind many consumption behaviors lies a fundamental human need for connection. When businesses unknowingly or intentionally fulfill this need, they create something far more valuable than customer loyalty; they create a community where individuals find purpose, identity, and belonging.
Mark S. Rosenbaum
Professor of Marketing & Captain
Department of Marketing, Supply Chain Management, and Economics, Baker School of Business, The Citadel – the Military College of South Carolina
