Transition Resistance: Why Autistic Consumers Won't Upgrade Even When It Makes Sense
Your smartphone is three generations old. The camera is objectively worse. The battery dies by noon. Apps crash regularly.
5 min read
Neurodivergence Writing Team
:
Jan 5, 2026 8:00:01 AM
An autistic adult finds the perfect black t-shirt. The fabric weight is exactly right. The neck opening doesn't trigger sensory issues. The fit is consistent across sizes. They buy twelve of them.
Three years later, they need more. They return to the same brand. The shirt has been "improved"—new fabric blend, updated fit, softer feel.
They cannot wear it. The sensory profile is wrong. The predictability is gone. They've lost their shirt.
This isn't pickiness. This is samefood—the neurodivergent need for exact, unchanging replication of specific products. And when brands break this unspoken contract through reformulation or discontinuation, they don't just lose a sale. They lose a customer who was depending on them.
Samefood is neurodivergent slang for the tendency to eat the same foods repeatedly—often the same specific brand, prepared the same way, eaten at the same times. For many autistic individuals, this isn't about limited palates or lack of adventurousness. It's about reducing cognitive load, managing sensory predictability, and creating routine stability in an unpredictable world.
The concept extends far beyond food. Autistic consumers develop samefood relationships with clothing brands, personal care products, cleaning supplies, technology, and anything else they use regularly. Once they find a product that works—that doesn't trigger sensory issues, that performs consistently, that they can rely on—they want that exact product forever.
The neuroscience underlying this: Autistic brains often process sensory information differently and intensely. Novel experiences require significant cognitive resources to evaluate and integrate. Familiar, predictable products allow autistic individuals to allocate those cognitive resources to other tasks rather than constantly reassessing whether something will work for them.
When a brand reformulates that product, they're not just changing a recipe or updating specifications. They're eliminating a known variable from an autistic person's life and forcing them to expend cognitive energy finding and evaluating alternatives.
Consider Pantene's discontinuation of their Sheer Volume line in 2019. Neurotypical consumers switched to another Pantene product or tried a competitor. Autistic consumers who'd used Sheer Volume for years faced genuine crisis.
Online autism forums filled with distressed posts: people stockpiling final bottles, seeking leftover inventory, desperately asking if anyone knew the exact formulation so they could recreate it. This wasn't brand preference. It was loss of a reliable sensory experience that couldn't be easily replaced.
Why reformulation is so catastrophic:
Sensory unpredictability - Autistic individuals with heightened sensory sensitivity have often spent significant time finding products that don't trigger negative sensory responses. "New and improved" formulas introduce sensory variables: different textures, scents, sounds (yes, products have sounds—shampoo viscosity affects the sound it makes), visual appearance, and feel.
Routine disruption - Many autistic people structure their lives around routines that reduce cognitive load. Morning routines might involve specific products used in specific ways. Reformulation disrupts the routine, creating stress that extends beyond the product itself.
Loss of trusted solution - Finding products that work requires extensive trial and error. Each failed product is a sensory negative experience. When a working product disappears, the autistic consumer must restart that exhausting search process.
Betrayal of implicit trust - Autistic consumers who repeatedly purchase the same product are implicitly trusting that brands will maintain consistency. Reformulation feels like violation of that trust.
At least with reformulation, the brand still exists and might reformulate back. Discontinuation is permanent loss.
Gap's discontinuation of their Favorite Tee line created genuine distress for autistic customers who'd built their wardrobe around those shirts. The fabric weight, neck construction, and fit couldn't be replicated by Gap's replacement options or competitors. These customers didn't want similar shirts. They wanted those specific shirts.
The economic impact of discontinuation:
When brands discontinue products with loyal neurodivergent customer bases, those customers don't simply switch to the brand's other offerings. They often leave the brand entirely because trust is broken. If you discontinued the product they depended on, you'll probably discontinue the next one too.
These weren't casual purchases. Autistic consumers who find products that work become premium customers—buying multiples, reordering consistently, and maintaining brand loyalty for decades. Discontinuing those products trades long-term, high-value customers for whatever marginal benefit comes from streamlining product lines.
Some brands have accidentally or intentionally captured intensely loyal neurodivergent customers by maintaining radical product consistency.
Levi's has manufactured 501 jeans with essentially identical fit and construction for over 140 years. While they've introduced variations, the original remains available and unchanged.
Why this works: Autistic consumers who find 501s that fit can buy them for life. No guessing whether this year's version will fit differently. No re-evaluation needed. Same jeans, same fit, same construction, forever.
The business case: Levi's could have discontinued 501s dozens of times in favor of trendier styles. Instead, they maintain a product that requires no marketing innovation, no reformulation, no redesign. It's profitable purely through consistency. Neurodivergent customers are part of that profitability—they buy 501s in multiple colors, replace them when worn, and never consider alternatives.
Heinz ketchup tastes identical to how it tasted in 1876. The formula hasn't changed. The sensory experience—viscosity, flavor, color—remains constant across decades.
Why this works: Autistic individuals with food sensitivities can rely on Heinz tasting exactly the same every time. There's no risk. No variability. No need to evaluate whether this bottle is safe.
The business case: Heinz owns 70% of the US ketchup market partly because they never gave customers reason to leave. Consistency creates loyalty that transcends generations. Neurodivergent consumers who trusted Heinz as children trust it as adults because it never betrayed that trust through reformulation.
Bic has manufactured the Cristal pen with identical design since 1950. Same hexagonal barrel. Same cap. Same ink flow. Same everything.
Why this works: Autistic individuals often have specific tactile preferences for writing instruments. The Cristal's grip, weight, ink flow, and cap design create a predictable writing experience. Writers who find it comfortable know they can buy Cristals forever.
The business case: Bic sells 100 Cristal pens per second worldwide. While design consistency isn't solely responsible for this success, it eliminates the risk that redesign alienates existing customers. Neurodivergent consumers represent a loyal subset who actively avoid pens that might change design.
Costco's Kirkland brand maintains remarkable formula consistency. Their products rarely reformulate, and when they do, Costco tends to maintain both versions temporarily.
Why this works: Autistic shoppers who find Kirkland products that work can buy them in bulk with confidence they'll remain consistent. The Kirkland white t-shirt they bought three years ago is the same shirt available today.
The business case: Kirkland's consistency drives membership renewals. Customers who depend on specific Kirkland products maintain Costco memberships to access them. Neurodivergent consumers are particularly likely to become loyal members once they've established Kirkland products they trust.
Autistic consumers who find products that work become ideal subscription customers. They want the same product delivered at predictable intervals forever.
Dollar Shave Club's success partly comes from this model: Once a customer identifies their preferred razor and frequency, they never want that to change. Autistic subscribers particularly value the predictability—same razor, same schedule, no decisions required.
Subscription services should emphasize consistency:
These aren't generic value propositions. They're specific assurances that address samefood anxiety.
Maintain legacy products alongside new ones - When launching "new and improved" versions, keep the original. Some customers genuinely prefer it. Their loyalty is worth the SKU complexity.
Announce reformulations with serious lead time - Give customers months, not weeks, to stockpile if they choose. Provide detailed information about what's changing so they can assess whether it matters to them.
Create product consistency guarantees - Make consistency a feature, not an accident. "This product has remained unchanged since [year]" becomes a selling point for neurodivergent customers.
Never discontinue products with passionate small audiences - If a product has customers buying multiples and reordering consistently, that's a sustainability signal. Don't discontinue for low volume—those customers are profitable.
Offer "archive" purchasing options - Allow customers to buy previous formulations or discontinued items when possible. Some customers will pay premium prices for products they trusted.
Survey before reformulating - Ask existing customers if reformulation is acceptable. Their feedback might reveal that your "improvement" will lose your most loyal buyers.
When an autistic customer repeatedly purchases your product, they're entering an unspoken contract: I'll give you my loyalty if you give me consistency.
Break that contract through reformulation or discontinuation, and they don't just leave—they feel betrayed. The cognitive and emotional cost of finding your product in the first place was significant. You taught them they could trust you. Then you changed.
The brands that understand samefood don't innovate their core products into oblivion. They maintain them, protect them, and build entire customer bases around radical consistency.
Samefood isn't a market segment. It's a loyalty strategy. Build products that never change, and neurodivergent customers will never leave.
Winsome Marketing helps brands understand neurodivergent consumer behavior and position product consistency as competitive advantage. We identify the features that create samefood loyalty and prevent reformulation disasters. Let's build products customers can trust forever.
Your smartphone is three generations old. The camera is objectively worse. The battery dies by noon. Apps crash regularly.
9 min read
When the latest noise-cancelling headphones hit the market, the reviews pour in. Professional tech reviewers praise the "intuitive controls" and...
A client told us about her autistic teenage son who refused to wear anything except one specific designer sweater. Not because of the brand name—he...