It starts innocently. The garden centre runs a bank-holiday promotion, so someone edits the price at the till. The website is a different system, so the web team edits it there too — a day later, and by two pence out. The wholesale portal has its own spreadsheet. The shelf-edge labels were printed last Tuesday. Four channels, four copies of one price, and the only question left is which one the customer catches you on.
A customer who sees £12.99 on the app and £11.99 on the bench experiences a shop that doesn't seem to know its own prices — and they are right. The gap erodes trust far faster than the pound is worth, and it turns a routine promotion into an argument at the counter.
The instinct is to fix it with discipline: a checklist, a shared calendar, someone whose job is to reconcile the four copies every Monday. But reconciliation is a tax you pay forever, and it fails the first busy week. The real fix is structural. A price that lives in one place cannot disagree with itself.