Good Morning America Deals Are Quietly Getting Worse

Every weekday at 8:30 a.m. Eastern, millions of Americans open their laptops, phones, or TVs for one reason: "GMA Deals and Steals." The segment has become a morning ritual, a digital treasure hunt where Tory Johnson unveils discounts of 50, 60, sometimes 70 percent on everything from air fryers to diamond earrings. But this year, something has shifted. The deals are still there. The math behind them is not. Let's start with the obvious: "GMA Deals and Steals" is real. The discounts are legitimate, negotiated by ABC with brands hungry for a national spotlight. But the show doesn't exist in a vacuum. It lives inside an economy where your paycheck buys less every month, and that changes what a "deal" actually means. Begin with groceries. The Bureau of Labor Statistics reports food prices are up roughly 25 percent since 2020. A carton of eggs that cost $1.50 now runs $4 or more in many cities. Ground beef, coffee, orange juice—all higher. When Tory announces 40 percent off a kitchen gadget, that savings is real, but it's competing against a food bill that already ate your budget. The average American family spends about $1,000 more per year on groceries than it did three years ago, according to USDA data. A $30 air fryer discount doesn't cover that gap. Then there's rent. The median asking rent in the U.S. sits near $1,700, up about 20 percent from 2021 in many metro areas. For anyone spending 40 percent of income on housing—and a record share of renters now are—discretionary spending is a luxury. "GMA Deals and Steals" thrives on impulse. But impulse requires slack in the budget. When rent eats first, the deals segment becomes window shopping. The Federal Reserve's rate hikes were supposed to cool all this. Instead, they made credit cards brutal. The average APR on a new credit card is above 24 percent, an all-time high. So when a viewer sees a "steal" and puts it on a card, that 50 percent discount can evaporate in interest within months. The deal isn't the price on screen. It's the price plus the interest you pay if you don't clear the balance. That's the invisible math ABC doesn't show. None of this means the segment is a scam. It means it's a mirror. "GMA Deals and Steals" works beautifully when wages outpace inflation. When they don't, it becomes something else: a daily reminder of how far a dollar stretches—and how fast it snaps back. Real average hourly earnings, adjusted for inflation, have been roughly flat for two years. So a discount that would have felt like found money in 2019 now feels like a bandage on a bigger wound. There's also a psychological trap. Economists call it "mental accounting." We treat a deal as a gain, separate from the loss of rising prices elsewhere. A 60 percent off sale triggers the same dopamine as a windfall, even if our overall finances are worse. Retailers know this. That's why "GMA Deals and Steals" is so effective—for the brands. The smartest way to watch the segment in 2025 is with a calculator, not a credit card. Check the "original" price against Amazon and Walmart. Set a hard monthly limit. And remember that a deal is only a deal if you needed the item and can pay for it today. **The bottom line:** "GMA Deals and Steals" didn't get worse. The economy around it did, and the show can't discount your rent, your groceries, or your 24 percent APR. Watch it for fun, but don't let a morning segment convince you that 50 percent off is the same as getting ahead—because the Fed, the CPI, and your landlord aren't offering any deals at all.