
Turning Infrastructure to Influence
Mark Sage - 11 min read - 13/08/2025
With Part 1, we explored how coalition loyalty programmes like yuu Rewards create value as orchestration platforms — connecting partners, setting the rules, and enabling transactions across the network. But orchestration alone isn’t enough. To survive, the programme must be commercially sustainable.
That’s where platform economics come in.
A coalition programme typically runs on a slim “clip” — the margin made from selling points to partners (typically through breakage on those points). However, this clip needs to be low enough to ensure both value goes back into the programme (and members pockets), as well as to ensure partners will engage. At first glance, that can make it look like a low-margin business. The reality is very different.
When you scale that clip across multiple partners, categories, and millions of transactions, the aggregate profit can be substantial. And that’s before adding in other revenue streams — retail media, data products, financial services — that layer on top of the core loyalty model. Most importantly, these economics are paired with measurable partner P&L uplift, which keeps investment flowing and strengthens the programme’s moat.
When done well, money that would previously have been invested in price discounts is now invested into points, which then unlocks further revenues — through increased member engagement (and incremental sales for the partner), and through additional points volume and ancillary revenue.
From an investor lens — whether internal or external — this loyalty organisation then looks less like a traditional business unit and more like a platform model.
It’s capital-light — as it doesn’t require heavy investment in physical assets — and this in turn brings scalability as one loyalty platform and app can be used for infinite promotions, partners, and journeys. It’s also monetisable, with sponsor fees, breakage, redemption margin, and eventually payments, media, and financial services — all stacked on the same infrastructure.
The magic, though, is in the leverage — and in how that leverage compounds.
Points drive margin lift across the ecosystem, but the platform doesn’t just sit passively in the background. It benefits in three distinct, reinforcing ways:-
First, the more partners gain, the more the platform earns — the model scales with their success.
Second, the mechanics themselves become sticky — with brands and banners relying on the platform to hit targets, creating habit, preference, and customer reach.
Third, every transaction, reward, and redemption generates data — and that data becomes the fuel for smarter targeting, more efficient promotions, and entirely new monetisation models.
That’s the real flywheel.
When designed well, a loyalty platform is more than infrastructure. It’s an engine, and one that aligns incentives, embeds itself deeply, and becomes more valuable every time it’s used.
This means the real value lies not in what it earns immediately, but in what it makes possible system wide.
It’s less like a retailer collecting margin on every sale, and more like a rail network. It doesn’t sell the goods, but it enables every brand, store, and offer to move further, faster, and with greater efficiency. Like Shopify for eCommerce or Stripe for payments, a loyalty platform builds the rails others run on — using orchestration to turn infrastructure into influence, and shared usage into shared value.
It may not always appear in the topline, but it shows up everywhere else.
In uplifted baskets, in lower shrinkage, in smarter promotions, in cheaper acquisition, and in higher retention.
That’s value creation. The platform doesn’t need to win the sale; it needs to power the system that drives it and take a sustainable slice of the value it creates.
That’s where things start to get sticky though — monetising loyalty.
Being an orchestrator gives you influence — but it doesn’t guarantee profit. That’s the tension at the heart of any loyalty model. If you’re external, like Nectar once was, the need to monetise is obvious — your partners capture the commercial upside, so you must design the system to capture your share — through platform fees, data services, and ownership of the points currency.
But even when you’re internal to the ecosystem, like yuu Rewards within DFI, the challenge doesn’t go away. It just becomes more subtle — and in some ways, more dangerous.
When internal platforms don’t clearly show how they create value for the business — and attribute that value to the mechanics they operate — they risk being seen as just another cost line.
The banners benefit from improved margins, smarter promotions, stronger retention, but over time, those gains become normalised and fade into the baseline. People forget how they were achieved (or worse, never fully bought into the idea that the platform was the reason behind them in the beginning). They then begin to question the fees, the funding, and the headcount.
That’s why internal orchestrators like yuu Rewards have to hold themselves to the same commercial discipline as external ones. The value they create must be visible, provable, and attributable to specific interventions — and tied directly to business outcomes the banners care about such as uplifted sales, reduced shrinkage, higher conversion.
Only then does the platform earn the right to capture some of that value — through breakage, redemption margin, shared investment recovery, or internal chargeback models.
The path to long-term sustainability lies not just in building a system that works, but in proving, over and over again, that it pays back more than it costs.
Ironically though, this starts not with the bottom line, but with the customer.
Whilst orchestration is about enabling value across the system — orientation is about whether the organisation is even set up to see that value.
To truly understand — and invest in — a loyalty platform’s ability to generate long-term returns, an organisation has to believe in one core idea — that customers themselves are valuable.
This may sound obvious, but in many businesses — especially retail — the dominant mindset is product-led. The company defines itself by what it sells, not who it serves. If you can negotiate the best price from the supplier and sell for the best price to the consumer, you’re winning.
The CFO will invest in price — maintaining an acceptable margin — but will typically refuse to invest in customer, seeing it simply as money spent that needs to be recouped in extra margin on products sold.
This product-centric mindset often leads to what Theodore Levitt famously described as marketing myopia.
In his seminal 1960 HBR article, Levitt challenged companies to reframe their purpose — not as producing (or selling) products, but as creating customer value. His core argument still holds today:
“Management must think of itself not as producing products but as providing customer value. It must push this idea into every nook and cranny of the organisation… otherwise the company will be merely a series of pigeonholed parts, with no consolidating sense of purpose or direction.”
He illustrated this through the decline of the US railroad industry. The railways failed not because demand for transport disappeared — but because they saw themselves in the train business, not the transportation business. They optimised for product, not purpose. They clung to tracks instead of adapting to changing expectations and options. A once booming industry ended up having to ask for government support.
In the article, Levitt goes on to highlight the difference between being product led (selling) and customer led (marketing).
“Selling focuses on the needs of the seller, marketing on the needs of the buyer. Selling is preoccupied with the seller’s need to convert the product into cash, marketing with the idea of satisfying the needs of the customer by means of the product. [For selling] the customer is somebody “out there” who, with proper cunning, can be separated from his or her loose change.”
The same logic applies to loyalty.
If it’s seen as a tool to “sell”, to push product — to separate customers from their loose change, as Levitt would put it — then it will be evaluated through a narrow, short-term lens. Loyalty will compete with discounts and promotions for funding, and its worth judged by weekly sales lifts or voucher redemptions. Its structure will then reflect this — as a campaign engine, a bolt-on to CRM, or a cost line in marketing.
But loyalty isn’t just about selling. It’s about being “customer led”. About “satisfying the needs of the buyer”. It’s marketing.
In customer-led organisations, loyalty becomes something else entirely. A strategic function that helps the business understand, serve, and grow customer value over time. It influences not just offers, but assortment, store formats, pricing, communications, and investment priorities. It becomes embedded — pushed, as Levitt suggested, into “every nook and cranny”.
You see this in organisations like Tesco, who now 30 years on from the launch of Clubcard, have loyalty at the heart of their business. Store managers reviewing their share of customer shopping missions — not simply product sales — but their share of the reason why their customers shop.
This distinction matters, because it ultimately shapes how loyalty is structured internally. Is it isolated within marketing or CRM, focused on tactical campaigns? Or is it positioned cross-functionally, with influence over product, pricing, customer experience, and brand?
Most importantly, is the customer seen as an asset to be grown, or a wallet to be mined.
The answer to that question will determine whether the loyalty function is treated as a cost centre… or something far more powerful.
Charging for the services you provide means you need to be able to demonstrate value. The complexity for loyalty though — especially coalition models — is that you essentially have three different stakeholders.
Most businesses serve two masters — the shareholder and the customer. With loyalty platforms however, you operate with a three-legged stool.
Your need to create value for the Partner — the brands and banners who participate in the programme and rely on it to drive measurable commercial outcomes.
You also need to create value for the Shareholders who fund the programme and expect a return.
For the whole thing to work, you need to generate value for the End Customer — your customers customer — the actual people earning points, receiving offers, and deciding whether to engage.
If any one leg fails, the stool topples.
You can win over customers with great offers, but if partners don’t see commercial returns, they’ll pull funding. You can please the partner, but if customers don’t respond, outcomes won’t materialise. Even with customer and partner momentum, if shareholders can’t see a return path — if you’re not getting paid for the value you generate — they’ll reduce support before the flywheel turns.
Understanding this dynamic is critical to how loyalty should be structured — and why traditional thinking around cost centres and profit centres only gets you part of the way there.
Whether a loyalty programme is seen as a cost or a profit opportunity depends heavily on how the organisation views the customer.
In organisations where the customer is seen as an asset — with potential to drive growth across baskets, categories, and services — loyalty is evaluated through a platform lens. Investment is seen not as a marketing line item, but as infrastructure to support long-term value creation.
However, if the organisational focus is myopically on product — then loyalty will simply be seen as a cost. The focus will be on how I get 4x back on the 1% I spent.
With this ‘product view’, there will be a desire to see a direct line of site from the basket ‘loyalty discount’ today to the sales uplift (literally) tomorrow. Human behaviour, long-term engagement, and platform dynamics are discounted.
Loyalty is simply viewed as a way to separate the customer from their data, enabling CRM to separate the customer from their “loose change”.
This sets loyalty up to be structured as a cost centre — there to serve the brands and banners — but not there to serve the customer. Not an asset in its own right.
The risk then is that over time the loyalty programme is starved of investment as the best way to manage a cost centre is by reducing its cost. New capabilities, new resources and new ideas are delayed, as the CFO — focused on short-term efficiency — is unlikely to back anything that can’t deliver immediate returns.
We didn’t take this approach though with yuu Rewards.
From the CEO down — there was a clear belief that loyalty creates value. The board understood that investment in loyalty today could be leveraged for increased income tomorrow — generating growth across the whole ecosystem and the whole organisation.
Bigger baskets, more visits, wider share of wallet, and expanding into new services — from financial products to retail media. For yuu Rewards, we had a definitive focus on the customer and we structured the organisation accordingly.
We didn’t just position yuu as a function within marketing — we built it as a separate company. That gave us autonomy, neutrality, and a commercial mandate. While a standalone entity isn’t essential, it made sense for our coalition model.
As a profit centre, yuu Rewards had its own P&L and earned revenue from several sources.
We had Annual marketing fees that were fixed contributions from each business unit and helped to pay for the base operating capabilities. Points issuance and redemption fees which were charged per transaction or campaign. Breakage margin from unredeemed points as well as redemption arbitrage from points sold at a higher rate than their blended redemption value.
This model made sense in a multi-partner environment as it aligned incentives.
Partners funded what they used — points issued for sales made — and we were incentivised to ensure they saw value, as increased usage drove increased points income. Shareholders gained through both platform revenue and the improved performance of participating banners.
That said, cost centre models aren’t inherently flawed.
For smaller or single-brand programmes they can make sense, and in this model, the programme itself is not looking to make and retain profit. Instead, the company budgets for the cost of running the programme — the team, the systems and the points liability — and looks for success metrics to help justify this ongoing cost and investment
At LVMH owned DFS, for example, we ran the loyalty programme as a cost centre. There was no direct revenue line — just a budget and a set of impact KPIs. It worked though because we were disciplined in tracking and attributing value.
The approach at DFS essentially leveraged a shared P&L model — tracking where the value shows up across the business, and judging the programme on its contribution to those outcomes.
Whether you choose a cost centre or profit centre structure, the model alone doesn’t guarantee success.
Profit centres can generate cash without necessarily delivering value to partners. Cost centres can quietly create value but struggle to defend their budget. The real question is whether the programme can prove the value it brings — not just once, but continuously.
So, structure matters, but attribution matters more.
Too often, loyalty is judged on optics — member vs non-member, sign-up rates, or week-on-week redemptions. But these don’t prove it works.
In the final part of this chapter, we’ll dig into how you actually measure impact. Not proxy metrics. Not hunches. But real behavioural lift .
Read part 3 now - Proving the Value of Loyalty
