What ‘Love Actually’ teaches us about buyer–business relationships.
Love Actually has become a beloved holiday classic precisely because it captures the messy, often contradictory nature of human relationships. The film’s intersecting storylines show just how essential trust is—and how devastating its absence can be. Few scenes hit harder than the moment Karen (Emma Thompson) puts on the Joni Mitchell album her husband Harry (Alan Rickman) gave her, after discovering that the expensive necklace she found in his pocket earlier wasn’t intended for her but for another woman. The other woman, Mia (Heike Makatsch), is an office assistant at Harry’s workplace and she persistently makes her interests known, with Harry succumbing to the desire to please her.
When Corporate Messaging Collides with Human Imperfection
What’s most striking about Harry and Mia’s storyline, in my opinion, isn’t the affair itself but the setting in which it unfolds. Although it is never called out directly, the signage and décor of their office denote that the organization has an interest in social matters. Roughly six minutes into the movie, it shows Collin Frissell (Kris Marshall) walking up to a building that has a banner with the company name Fairtrade Co. Ltd. outside. And, as he walks about the office making deliveries and attempting to flirt with Mia, you can briefly catch phrases on the wall which say “Shopping that saves lives” and “Help shoulder their burden.”
Now, given that I have been critical of companies that focus on signaling their virtue, rather than value, and I’ve expressed concerns regarding firms that emphasize ethical certification over wealth creation, it is probably not surprising that the social orientation of the company caught my eye. The irony is hard to miss: Harry and Mia work for an agency that promotes good intentions—but their own actions fall short of doing so. And as with many things, art imitates life. A firm can wrap itself in altruistic messaging, but at the end of the day, every organization is made up of individuals with their own incentives, values, and failings.
Individuals, Incentives, and the Marketplace
Ludwig von Mises understood the central role individuals play in the marketplace, and his praxeological approach highlights that human action is always purposeful—even when it appears to run counter to societal expectations or organizational goals. “The market economy,” according to Mises, “is a system of social cooperation,” and the course of transactions and relationships ultimately reflects the intentions, incentives, and decisions of the individuals involved.
Recently, in a course I teach, we briefly discussed Douglas McGregor’s framework which positions managerial styles to fall into two categories: Theory X and Theory Y. Theory X managers view employees in a negative light, wherein workers need to be coerced to complete tasks. Theory Y managers assume that employees are engaged, and enjoy working and taking on new responsibilities. I tell my students, if I were a Theory X professor, pop quizzes would be commonplace, and if I were a Theory Y professor, I wouldn’t question the use of their laptops and there would be no need for exams. Now clearly, these are extremes, but understanding how to incentivize and motivate employees, along with providing guardrails for company activities, is an important aspect of management. Mission statements, codes of conduct, and reporting structures exist for a reason: they provide clarity about goals, expectations, and responsibilities.
Managers can help shape employee behavior, but businesses have far less control over the actions of customers, clients, and outside partners. Returning to Love Actually, Hugh Grant (playing the Prime Minister) must welcome Billy Bob Thornton (portraying the US President) out of diplomatic necessity—until the President’s arrogance forces him to draw a line. The bounds of a relationship are built on trust, and the marketplace works the same way.
Companies cater to customer interests, but the degree of trust between both sides ultimately shapes how a transaction unfolds. I was reminded of this during a recent pickup at my local Kohl’s. I was struck by how frictionless the process was. I received a notification and a bin number, walked into the store, grabbed my bagged purchase from the designated cubby, and walked right out. No check-in. No scanning. No employee oversight. I couldn’t help but wonder: What would happen if someone took the wrong bag? Or deliberately walked off with someone else’s purchase? The system works only because Kohl’s assumes that most customers will behave honestly and are comfortable with the grab-and-go method.
Compare that to my nearby Walmart, where I need an associate to unlock the case containing Lego sets. Two retailers, two different assumptions about customer behavior and views of the type of oversight needed—and therefore two very different shopping experiences.
These contrasts illustrate a broader point: If we want more open shelves, smoother pickups, and fewer barriers in retail and beyond, we must remember that trust is not just something we demand from companies; it is something they must extend to us as well. And trust, whether in commerce or in everyday life, is a fragile thing—easy to fracture and difficult to rebuild.
A Marketplace Built on Mutual Responsibility
The most memorable moments in Love Actually are the ones in which characters extend goodwill despite uncertainty, revealing how meaningful trust becomes precisely when vulnerability is involved. Business transactions rely on a similar dynamic. Every seamless checkout, generous return policy, or unmonitored pickup represents a small extension of faith from companies to consumers. And those conveniences can vanish quickly if that faith is abused.
Ultimately, the relationship between buyers and businesses should be understood as a mutually beneficial partnership. Company success hinges on the ability to deliver genuine value—because, as Peter Drucker famously observed, “the purpose of business is to create and keep a customer.” But that value can only be delivered when customers participate in good faith, honoring the systems that make modern retail fast, open, and affordable.
Good firms strive to serve customers, not work against them. And good customers contribute to an environment where such service is viable. When both sides respect the relationship, the marketplace functions as it should: cooperatively, efficiently, and in a way that benefits everyone involved. It’s a delicate balance—one that depends heavily on reputation and the trust that underpins it. As Warren Buffett reminds us, “It takes twenty years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it. If you think about that, you’ll do things differently.”
