So, we all know modern society makes it almost impossible for the male of the species to maintain the traditional hunter-gatherer role, but my husband – bless him – still tries.

As designated shopper, each week he faces the fiendish psychology of supermarket product placement, the dizzying selection of brands and terrifying understorey of toddlers – all the while wrestling with lists, price comparisons and trolley – to emerge triumphant with goods.

Sweet chap that he is, this almost always includes a “surprise” for me: perhaps dark chocolate with sea salt, a wedge of really good cheese or a king prawn or 10.

I’ve come to relish unpacking the groceries, but this week I hit the “surprise” and recoiled much as if the offering was a chewed mouse on the doormat, or maybe even … on my pillowcase.

Not since I was in my early 20s and living in a shared house above a butcher’s shop, where peak nutrition was Keen’s curried surplus sausages with tinned pineapple, have Arnott’s Shapes crossed my threshold. Some foods are culinary cocaine!

Could anyone stop at one Barbecue Shape? Sure, you can fold the special stay-crisp packet away in a hermetically sealed and locked box and toss the key over the Iguazu Falls, but then what happens?

Next thing you are in a darkened room with an empty box and busted chains dangling from your wrists, cackling to yourself. And what do they expect? It is, according to the advertising slogan, “flavour you can see”.

My husband was alarmed that this small box had unwittingly wrought such angst.

But, look, he said – reading from the packet – “It’s light & crispy. It’s the flavour hit you can feel good about. A flavour hit with lighter crunch.”

Yes, it’s true there’s a modest calorific reduction on the traditional Shapes versus the “light & crispy” version but, by and large, the biggest Shapes-shifting has occurred by reducing contents from 250 grams in the mid-’90s to 200g in 2011 and now to 120g.

Arnott’s is not alone in this process of downsizing quantities and trumpeting them as improvements.

For example, Peckish rice crackers have recently become thinner, therefore lighter and crispier, while the Fantastic brand now offers the “Thinner Bite” that’s “30 per cent thinner”.

It doesn’t mean these attributes will extend in any physical way to the consumer, just that you might not be able to see the biscuits if you stand them sideways.

Arnott’s Shapes were first produced in Victoria in the 1950s and today 53 million packets of Shapes are reportedly consumed in Australia each year, with the Arnott’s biscuit brand found in 95 per cent of households.

According to Wikipedia, Shapes “were originally made in the shape of potato chips, but were too difficult to cut and bakers realised were a waste of dough”.

Not a lot has changed really, except of course Arnott’s is no longer Australian and it’s only the biscuits that are losing weight.

– See more at:

honey, i shrunk the groceries



Woh-ho-oh, the nips are gettin’ bigger,” Mental as Anything famously sang back in a time of largesse and long lunches.

Sadly, those days have long gone.

Now, you’re far more likely to find that drink a few millilitres short of the full litre bottle thanks to the magic of modern manufacturing whereby, hey presto, less actually costs more.

This law of diminishing returns to the consumer is a world-wide phenomena afflicting the full raft of supermarket products from laundry detergent, tissues, soap and toilet paper to chips and lollies.

Dubbed the great “grocery shrink ray” by the US-based consumer affairs blog The Consumerist , this down-sizing of products and the converse up-sizing of price has been going on for decades.

Cadbury is the latest, with the recent announcement on its Facebook page that it was reducing the size of its 220g block of Dairy Milk (which in the really joyful days was 250g) to 200g because of rising production costs.

Of course it’s not just Cadbury’s. Arnott’s was the recipient of one of Choice’s Shonky Awards in 2014 for introducing its “premium” peanut flavoured Tim Tam which contained absolutely no peanut and only nine biscuits equating to 165 grams for the same price as a 200 gram – 11 biscuit pack.

Lolly lovers squirmed with discomfort when Nestle cut the Allen’s Killer Python from 47g to 24g so it resembled not so much a boa constrictor as an anorexic asp. A least in this instance the price of the slim-line individual pythons was slashed accordingly while the price of medium-sized bags of them remained the same and the net weight actually increased slightly.

Other companies which have made a virtue of reducing “portion” size to meet good dietary guidelines have not been so generous.

In 2010 Unilever, the parent company of Streets, announced it was reducing the size of Paddlepops by 15 per cent to make them “healthier” and meet school canteen guidelines. But there was no comparable drop in price, leading to claims the company was sugar-coating how they were cutting costs.

Companies like Kellogg’s are … hmm, hmm cereal offenders. In recent years it has shrunk the amount of snap, crackle and pop in its breakfast products and repriced them, resulting in unit price increases of up to 16.4 per cent in the case of Cornflakes and 14 per cent in the case of Rice Bubbles.

Across various brands you’ll find less chippies in chip packets, less fish in the can, less soap to lather, less ice cream in the tub, less detergent in the packet, less tissue in the box and even less sheets in the toilet paper thanks to bigger cardboard rolls.

Such changes usually go hand in hand with new packaging, new slogans and are often billed as “healthier” or “greener” options – either because there is less for you to consume or not so much packaging.

There is actually a logarithm manufacturers go by when they don’t want their customers to equate shrinking products to a price hike.

The Weber-Fechner law states in effect that if you present people with a product of say 1 kilo they will not notice a change in the weight if it is no more than 10 per cent – a threshold known as “just noticeable difference.”

Where will it all end?

Now that’s a super-sized question!