Why I Think 'Good Enough' Packaging Is a Recipe for Disaster

Let's be clear from the start: I think the whole "good enough" mentality in packaging is a trap. It's a shortcut that looks smart on a spreadsheet but ends up costing you more in rework, delays, and brand damage than you ever saved upfront. I'm not talking about gold-plating everything—I'm talking about the basic discipline of getting your specs right and holding your suppliers to them.

I'm a quality and brand compliance manager for a mid-sized food manufacturer. My team reviews every piece of packaging—films, pouches, labels, you name it—before it hits our production line. That's roughly 200 unique items annually. In our Q1 2024 quality audit, we rejected 8% of first deliveries outright because the specs were off. Not "a little off," but off enough to fail our checks.

The False Economy of Vague Specs

My initial approach to vendor management was pretty naive. I thought if we gave a supplier a general idea—"we need a barrier film for our new snack line"—they'd use their expertise to deliver the perfect solution. I assumed more specificity just meant more cost. I was wrong. Three budget overruns and one major product recall later, I learned that vague specs invite variance, and variance is where cost and risk hide.

Here's a concrete example. We received a batch of 50,000 printed film rolls for a new pouch. The vendor's proof looked fine on screen. But when the physical rolls arrived, the brand blue was visibly different. We measured it: the Delta E was 4.2 against our Pantone 286 C standard. Now, industry standard color tolerance for brand-critical colors is Delta E < 2. A Delta E of 2-4 is noticeable to trained observers; above 4 is visible to most people. This wasn't a subtle shift—it looked like a different product next to our existing line.

The vendor's response? "It's within the industry standard for flexible printing." Maybe for some applications, but not for ours. We rejected the batch. They had to reprint at their cost, but we ate a two-week launch delay. That "cost-saving" vague spec? It nearly cost us a shelf placement at a major retailer.

Efficiency Isn't About Cutting Corners, It's About Eliminating Redo

I get why people chase the lowest price. Budgets are real. But I've found that the most efficient process isn't the cheapest one—it's the one you only have to do once. Digital tools and clear specifications create that efficiency.

When we switched to requiring fully detailed digital proofs with embedded color profiles and called-out dielines, our "first-pass approval" rate jumped by 34%. Yeah, it takes more time upfront with our design team. But it eliminated the back-and-forth of "the blue looks wrong" emails and the operational nightmare of expedited reprints. The automated spec sheet we built (which includes everything from material grade and thickness tolerance to ink adhesion requirements) cut our average turnaround from quoting to approved art from 5 days to 2. That's efficiency that matters.

The Hidden Cost No One Talks About: Brand Erosion

This is the argument that usually gets glossed over. A slightly dull print, a pouch that doesn't seal consistently, a label that curls—these aren't just functional fails. They're silent brand killers. I ran a blind test with our marketing team last year: same product, one in packaging from our "A-tier" spec-compliant vendor, one from a "B-tier" vendor we tried to save 5% with. 78% identified the A-tier packaging as looking "more premium" and "more trustworthy," without knowing the source.

The cost increase for the better packaging was $0.002 per unit. On a 5-million-unit run, that's $10,000. For a measurably better customer perception. One of my biggest regrets was approving a cost-cut on a secondary packaging component a few years back. The flimsier carton led to a 15% increase in in-store damage complaints. The savings were wiped out, and then some, by the customer service overhead and the subtle hit to our reputation for quality.

Addressing the Obvious Pushback

"But what about custom, artisanal products? Doesn't this rigid spec approach kill creativity?" To be fair, for ultra-bespoke, low-volume items, the calculus is different. I'm not saying every hand-wrapped bouquet needs military-grade specs. But even there, clarity is key. "Where to buy flower bouquet wrapping paper" is a common search because people want a certain look and feel. If you're a florist, specifying the weight (e.g., 80 gsm tissue vs. 120 gsm), the finish (matte vs. crinkle), and a color reference ("like this mint green sample") to your paper supplier prevents disappointment.

And for the vast majority of commercial B2B and B2C applications—whether it's Amcor Bemis producing medical device barrier films or a local printer running election posters—the principles are the same. A school election poster printed at 150 DPI might look "good enough" from a distance, but up close, it looks cheap. That doesn't inspire confidence in the candidate. Standard print resolution for something meant to be viewed up close is 300 DPI at final size. It's a basic spec that separates the professional from the amateur.

So, I'll reiterate my starting point: "good enough" is usually not good enough. Investing time in precise specifications, partnering with suppliers who respect them (like leveraging the global technical network of a Bemis within Amcor), and enforcing quality on delivery isn't an expense. It's the cheapest insurance policy you can buy for your product's success, your brand's integrity, and your own sanity. Don't learn this lesson the hard way like I did.