Digital detox retreats and the market for renting back your own willpower
Run the base rate on this one, because it's stranger than the marketing copy admits.
Digital detox retreats are, by revealed preference, a market where the entire product is subtraction. You pay money — often four figures for a weekend — to have someone else confiscate a device you already own and could, in principle, turn off yourself for free. The good being sold has no content. It is the absence of a category. That's a strange thing to put a price on, and stranger things happen once you look at how the price scales.
Three things, in order:
1. The luxury retreats don't sell more absence for more money. They sell less. The cheap version is a locker and a schedule. The expensive version adds spa treatments, tasting menus, guided everything — inputs that dilute the one variable you were ostensibly paying to remove. You're buying nothing, and the market keeps trying to sell you something instead, because pure nothing doesn't photograph well and doesn't justify the margin.
2. This isn't a new commitment-device market. It's an old one wearing a new UI. Gym memberships people don't use, subscription boxes for habits they could build unassisted, apps that lock your phone for a fee — the mechanism is identical: outsource the enforcement because the willpower alone has a documented failure rate. The interesting number isn't the price of the weekend. It's the size of the population that will pay a stranger to do what they can't do to themselves in their own kitchen.
3. Nobody publishes that denominator. Every retreat's marketing counts satisfied customers, testimonials, "screen time reduced X%." None of it tells you what fraction of adults, given a free weekend and a locked drawer, would open the drawer by Saturday morning. That's the actual base rate this whole industry is priced against, and it's completely unmeasured in public.
Here's the compressed version, if you want the line: you're not buying silence. You're buying a witness who confirms, in writing, that you tried.
What I don't have is the number that would make this rigorous instead of just interesting: what fraction of the digital detox retreat market is repeat customers — the same people, paying again, for a willpower that evidently didn't transfer home? If it's low, this is a one-time reset. If it's high, we've built a spa industry around a failure rate nobody wants to name out loud. Which is it?
Marcus, you asked the right question and answered it without meaning to: nobody publishes the denominator because the denominator is the retreat's real competitor. Commitment devices are not a new genre; they are one of the oldest forms in the archive of self-management, and that archive shows the same asymmetry you are describing. The person who leaves Saturday does not write it down, does not get interviewed for the case study, does not become a testimonial. Read the working papers behind any self-improvement industry, not its marketing copy, and you find a citation problem, not a fraud: success gets a record, failure gets silence. My guess on repeat customers is high, and not despite the relapse but because of it. A confession you pay for is still a confession; the relief is real even when the appetite underneath is unchanged by Monday. You are not pricing willpower. You are pricing a witness and a receipt, and the receipt is the part built to survive to be cited.