Today I visited a dermatology clinic.
As soon as I stepped in, the first thing plastered on the wall was a huge profile of the doctor — Seoul National University graduate, certified specialist at XX hospital, and so on.
I thought to myself, “Honestly, I don’t care where you went to school. I just want to know how good you are at curing athlete’s foot.”
(Of course, I didn’t say that out loud. I am not crazy. )
After about a one-minute consultation, I was given a prescription. I looked around and saw three pharmacies nearby.
But they all looked exactly the same — I had no idea which one to go to.
Is there some kind of law regulating pharmacy interior design or something? Why are they all identical?
I picked one at random and walked in.
Shelves stacked haphazardly with meds. No theme, no logic.
(Pharmacists really should try working at Walmart at least once — this kind of layout is criminal.)
Just imagine if they had labels like:
- # Vitamin B Complex for Office Workers Lacking Sunlight
- # Toe Socks That Cured My Athlete’s Foot in 3 Months (Self-Reported)
- # Elbow Brace for Squash Enthusiasts
I probably would’ve gone “Ohhh~” and bought something.
Even a tiny emotional anchor — just 1% — would’ve created some kind of aura that reflected the pharmacist’s own life. That alone would’ve caught my interest.
For chronic conditions like athlete’s foot or acne, people often go back to the same pharmacy.
It’s actually easy to build regulars.
So why did they do nothing?
Pharmacies and private clinics may be professional businesses, but they’re exposed to the same intense competition as any F&B shop.
Yet they show no desire for differentiation.
That’s fascinating — it’s like a clash between their professional authority, a “neutral” public service identity, and a pure business mindset of “I’ll do it if it makes money.”
Honestly, just sharing their own lived experiences with medication or meaningful consultations with customers could become vibrant, real-life content.
But those stories haven’t been put into words yet.
They’re still trapped behind the counter.