When I was a young teenager, changing diapers for my baby brother and on babysitting gigs, it was all cloth. I could change a sleepy baby’s cloth diaper in the dark, large safety pins and all. A couple of decades later when I was a parent, it was all disposable. What happened? Virginia Postrel tells the story in “Engineering the disposable diaper: Benjamin Spock told mothers in the mid-twentieth century to buy six dozen cloth diapers and a covered pail. Within a decade, both were obsolete” (Works in Progress, April 24, 2026).
Back in 1957, disposable diapers had about 1% of the diaper market. They were expensive, and mainly used for situation where diapers would need to be changed while travelling. Postrel takes up the story:
After buying Charmin Paper Company in 1957, Procter & Gamble began looking for ideas for new paper products. Motivated by the less pleasant aspects of spending time with his new grandchild, the company’s director of exploratory development, Victor Mills, suggested disposable diapers. After analyzing existing products and conducting consumer research, P&G created a dedicated diaper research group.
The research this group conducted, like that of its successors and competitors, wasn’t glamorous. It didn’t advance basic science. It wasn’t even an obvious route to profit. (One percent of the market!) It was a high-stakes gamble that required solving difficult engineering problems. How that happened represents the kind of hidden progress that leads to everyday abundance.
P&G’s first design flopped. Tested in the extreme heat of a Dallas summer, the pleated absorbent pad with plastic pants made babies miserable and left them with heat rashes. Starting over, the group had a one piece diaper ready for testing in March 1959. With an improved rayon moisture barrier between the baby and the absorbent tissue wadding, the new diaper was softer and more comfortable. An initial test of 37,000 hand-assembled prototypes went well, with about two thirds of the parents deeming the disposables as good or better than cloth. The next step was mass production.
Designing one well-functioning disposable was hard enough. Turning out hundreds a minute was practically impossible. ‘I think it was the most complex production operation the company had ever faced’, an engineer recalled.
Eventually, the diaper team mastered the process. In December 1961, Pampers went on the market in Peoria, Illinois. Once again, the test failed. This time mothers liked the diapers. But the price was way too high for a single use item: ten cents a diaper, equivalent to about one dollar today. By contrast, diaper delivery services, which served about five percent of the market, charged no more than five cents a diaper. Home laundry costs ran to one or two cents.
Lowering the price of a diaper required much larger volumes. Aiming at about six cents a diaper, P&G engineers spent several years developing what Harvard Business School’s Michael E. Porter described as ‘a highly sophisticated block-long, continuous-process machine that could assemble diapers at speeds of up to a remarkable 400 a minute’. After successfully testing Pampers at 5.5 cents each, P&G began a national rollout in 1966. By 1973, disposables accounted for 42 percent of the US diaper market.
Other firms first entered the diaper market in the 1970s, and then left: Scott Paper, International Paper, Union Carbide, Johnson & Johnson. The competitor that did gain a foothold was Kimberley-Clark, the innovator who had created “Kleenex tissues and Kotex feminine pads … in the 1920s.” After a false start or two, the Huggies diaper, with elastic around the legs and an improved tape closure, swept into the diaper market. It cost 30% more, but for a lot of buyers, the premium price was worth it.
I love a good product development story, and Postrel has lots more details: how new absorbent materials made diapers slimmer over time, reducing logistics costs like storage, handing, and retail shelf space; the environment arguments about disposable vs. cloth diapers; disposable training pants that little ones could pull up by themselves; some well-chosen modern cultural references to disposable diapers; and more. Here, I’ll just offer three takeaways.
First, the creation of a workable disposable diaper, and then improving on that diaper, and being able to take it to mass production at an affordable cost, were all genuinely difficult tasks. The innovations took investment measured in time, money, and varied kinds of expertise. The time-path to disposable diapers having 95% of the diaper market took decades, with a number of failures along the way both within and across companies.
Second, a non-breakthrough innovation like disposable diapers may be nndervalued, in part because Americans take so much for granted that competitive companies will be trying to provide new and improved versions of so many products. But over time, the accumulaton of many such innovations makes day-to-day life so much easier. It’s an enormous benefit of living in a dynamic market-oriented economy that can also be nearly invisible.
Third, when new mothers are asked about the essential needs for their babies, they tend to focus on milk and diapers. But although diapers are affordable in the mass market, they aren’t cheap. I wrote a few years ago in “Some Economics of Diapers” (September 29, 2022) about what an author called a “leaky” part of the US social safety net, along with discussions of diaper “banks” and other methods of assuring that low-income parents and their babies have access to diapers.
