The thinking goes like this: if a buyer can’t distinguish between good and bad, everything gets priced somewhere in the middle. If you’re selling junk, this is fantastic news—you’ll probably get paid more than your lemon is worth. If you’re selling a quality used car, this price is insultingly low. As a result, people with good cars leave the market to sell their stuff elsewhere, which pushes the overall quality and price down even further, until eventually all that’s left on the market are lemons.
I think we’re in the lemon stage of the internet.
I thought about this last week while shopping online for a sleep mask. Brands like MZOO, YFONG, WAOAW popped up, and these seemed less like companies and more like vowel smoke ejected from a factory flue hole, then slotted into a distribution platform. The long tail of generic brands on e-commerce platforms is a textbook lemons market: good products get drowned out by these alphabet soup products, who use their higher margins to buy sponsored placement in search results. Both buyers and sellers eventually lose (and perhaps the platforms win, as long as they don’t wear out their reputation).
[…] What makes the Market for Lemons concept so appealing (and what differentiates it in my mind from enshittification) is that everyone can be acting reasonably, pursuing their own interests, and things still get worse for everyone. No one has to be evil or stupid: the platform does what’s profitable, sellers do what works, buyers try to make smart decisions, and yet the whole system degrades into something nobody actually wants.
— Frank Chimero, Selling Lemons: The hidden costs of the meta game, 2025