In urban Peru, the bodega is more than just a point of sale: it’s a family business, a source of self-employment, a trusted microcosm, and an everyday mechanism for income distribution. Meanwhile, the convenience store format is expanding rapidly: Tambo (part of the Lindcorp group) has deployed an aggressive growth plan, and OXXO (FEMSA) has announced expansion milestones in the country. This contrast—dispersed bodegas versus large-scale chains—raises a deeper question than the typical discussion of prices and efficiency: what are we leaving out when we call “rational” what the market rewards?

John Friedmann, an expert in public planning, helps to formulate the problem precisely. In his framework,  market rationality  is the unlimited pursuit of self-interest by individuals and corporations; because its consequences are not deliberately planned, it can appear “quasi-natural,” as if it were beyond human intention. But, Friedmann emphasizes, it was evident early on that market transactions do not guarantee social welfare: even Pareto conditions are rarely met, and the result can include exploitation, unemployment, urban decay, and—key to our case—the  bankruptcy of small businesses .

The boundary between market rationality and social rationality emerges when we examine  what is and is not included  in the calculation. Friedmann illustrates that a business decision can be hailed as “rational”—for example, closing a plant to increase profits, even if it leaves thousands unemployed. The calculation of market rationality does not incorporate, as an internal criterion, the aggregate interests of those who lose out when the plant closes. However, Friedmann adds a crucial nuance: rationality is also a value that seeks social approval. Under this premise, the economic actor tends to justify their decision in broader terms than self-interest, appealing to the idea that “what is good for the company is good for the nation.” This is the classic promise—which Adam Smith would have articulated as the natural harmony of interests: “private vices produce public benefits”—and which, in this logic, functions as a legitimizing narrative.

Let’s apply this to convenience retail. For a chain like Tambo or OXXO, opening stores in strategic locations, leveraging logistics, standardization, marketing, and supplier negotiations is perfectly “rational” from a market perspective: it reduces costs, increases turnover, and captures demand through proximity. The impact on the neighborhood—the gradual exit of family-run stores that can’t match the scale, hours, promotions, or rents—doesn’t appear as a “decisive” variable within that rationale, except when it becomes a political, reputational, or regulatory conflict. This aligns perfectly with Friedmann’s thesis: the market, in and of itself, is not designed to protect the social fabric; its logic is one-dimensional if no counterweights are imposed.

In Peru, this discussion is far from marginal, because the real economy relies overwhelmingly on small production units. The government itself reports that the vast majority of formal businesses are micro and small enterprises (MSEs). And, due to the labor structure, informality remains very high: around seven out of every ten employed individuals, according to recent reports from the National Institute of Statistics and Informatics (INEI). This means that self-employment and family businesses are not “relics of the past” but rather a central part of how millions earn a living. Along these lines, reports based on the National Household Survey (ENAHO) indicate that MSEs comprise practically all businesses and employ a significant portion of the economically active population (EAP).

When modern channels rapidly displace traditional ones, it’s not just where we buy that changes; it’s  who captures the surplus , how capital is distributed, and how concentrated economic power becomes. This is the crux of the “limit” Friedmann points out:  what the market considers efficient can be socially disintegrating .

Furthermore, in neighborhoods with a fragile middle class, the bodega fulfills an economic “diffusion” function: it multiplies owners, distributes small incomes, sustains family and neighborhood networks, and reduces wealth concentration in a few large groups. The market doesn’t account for this value except through its indirect effects. Friedmann puts it bluntly: although production and livelihoods depend largely on the market, the unlimited pursuit of profit can destroy the  bonds of human reciprocity  that sustain social life.

It is not about idealizing the winery or demonizing the chain; it is about recognizing that the “neutrality” of the market is, in reality, a form of social blindness.

What measures can protect family businesses without resorting to ineffective prohibitions? Friedmann offers a concrete clue when he lists applications of public planning geared toward criteria of social rationality:  protecting local businesses from the ravages of the unrestricted market;  for example, through territorial planning and rational market zoning in the name of social interests such as employment and the environment. Following this logic, a first measure—at the municipal and territorial levels—is to regulate the density and location of convenience stores through clear rules: minimum distances in certain residential areas, limits per block or radius of influence, and criteria for commercial saturation; not to “prevent competition,” but to prevent expansion through spatial concentration from turning entire neighborhoods into a commercial monoculture.

A second measure is to strengthen competition and trade contracting policies that address exclusionary practices: monitoring  predatory pricing , exclusivity clauses with suppliers that block access to traditional channels, and agreements that undermine the viability of small businesses. This aligns with Friedmann’s idea that the greatest point of conflict with market forces is precisely the policy that restricts their “normal” functioning; and that such restrictions are only sustainable if they are translated into defensible public rules.

A third measure—focused on production promotion, not just control—is to equip small businesses to compete where they can: cooperative purchasing (through cooperatives or neighborhood/district purchasing groups); basic digitalization (catalog, orders, payments); access to microcredit and working capital on reasonable terms; and technical assistance for inventory and margin management. Given that the Peruvian economy is largely comprised of micro and small enterprises (MSEs), modernizing the traditional sales channel is not wishful thinking: it is economic policy to sustain a broad business base.

A fourth measure is recognizing that there will always be losers in competitive transitions and that social rationality demands a buffer: retraining programs, skills development, and safety nets for “victims of the market” appear explicitly in Friedmann’s work as a legitimate part of public planning. In a country with high levels of informality, this also involves facilitating smart formalization: proportional compliance costs, so that small businesses can access financing and public procurement without being stifled by red tape.

Finally, Friedmann points out something uncomfortable but realistic: limiting the one-dimensional logic of the market doesn’t happen solely through technocracy; it usually requires  political mobilization  and the coordination of various actors. In the Peruvian case, this implies stronger associations of small shop owners, municipalities with the capacity to regulate local businesses, consumers aware of the social role of neighborhood commerce, and retail companies willing to adhere to standards of coexistence: for example, verifiable territorial commitments when their expansion puts strain on the local ecosystem.

If we accept Friedmann’s assertion that the market doesn’t “calculate” social costs on its own—and yet still seeks to legitimize itself as if it benefits everyone—then the debate about Tambo, OXXO, and the corner stores ceases to be a fight between “modernity and backwardness.” It becomes a serious discussion about  what kind of economy we want : one where capital is concentrated purely for scale, or one where efficiency coexists with an institutional framework that protects neighborhood economic pluralism and the diffusion of opportunities.