It could also be argued that Kamprad invented, several decades ago, the kind of experiential shopping that has become mainstream in an era of retailers struggling to keep up with e-commerce. Of the amenities in his stores (a highly unusual notion at the time), Kamprad told The New York Times in 1997: "We want people to spend time with us, to plan what they buy—and we want to make all of that easy. We provide pencils and pads and tape measures and information about the various products. We have lockers for coats, tote bags to carry around impulse purchases, plenty of bathrooms, 50 or more sample rooms for people to inspect. So it's nice that they can go into the restaurant, have themselves a Swedish-meatball luncheon and plan how they are going create their living rooms. The store in Almhult, Sweden, even has a hotel with a swimming pool and a sauna attached to it."
Kamprad's success story—one which, by many accounts, he never anticipated—wasn't without its problems, though. The founder made no secret of his struggle with alcoholism and was often referred to by such nicknames as "old Scrooge." Most notably, though, he garnered much retroactive criticism for his involvement in Nazi-sympathetic groups and work as a Nazi party recruiter during and after World War II, a choice he later called "the greatest mistake of my life" in a 1994 letter to employees asking their forgiveness. "It is a part of my life which I bitterly regret," the founder wrote. "You have been young yourself. Perhaps something happened during your own youth which you now, a long time afterwards, think was silly. In that case it will be easier for you to understand me."
Reactions to Kamprad's admission were mixed, with some criticizing how long it took him to be open about his involvement and others questioning how long he should "suffer" for the mistakes of his past. (Closer to home, employees at IKEA seemed willing to forgive; hundreds of them responded to his letter with a fax saying "Ingvar, We are here whenever you need us, the IKEA family.") Kamprad's response was to do what he had been doing for years: maintain a low profile and keep his head down while he worked at continually improving what had by now become Sweden's most recognizable export.
He worked as a senior advisor to the company until his death, a decision he once thusly explained to a reporter: "What else could I do with my age? Grow tomatoes in an allotment behind the house? I don’t know how to do anything apart from sell furniture. I am your classic specialized idiot."
