Major changes at Costco spark questions about whether its generous return policy is ending

Costco has built a reputation that feels almost mythical in modern retail: if you don’t like something, you bring it back, and the warehouse club makes it right.

That reputation is exactly why Maurie Backman at The Street says the recent chatter around Costco returns is landing like a warning siren for longtime members, especially at a moment when retailers everywhere are bleeding money on returns and looking for ways to slow the flow.

And in a separate take from the commentary side, YouTuber Adam Snyder says shoppers are already noticing a different vibe at the counter – less “no questions asked,” more “what happened here?”

The Quiet Shift Members Say They’re Feeling

Backman frames the issue in a way that’s easy to understand: return windows matter most when life gets messy, and most people don’t realize how fast a deadline can slam shut until it’s too late.

She shares a personal example about losing out on a $45 return because she couldn’t make it back to the store before a Jan. 31 cutoff, after illnesses and work piled up and the window closed.

That frustration, she argues, is exactly why Costco’s famously generous approach has been such a draw for members, because for most items, Costco has historically allowed returns for “any reason” with a flexibility that feels rare, and often without requiring a receipt.

But her point is that the retail world is changing around Costco, and Costco appears to be changing with it, even if the shift isn’t showing up as one big dramatic policy announcement.

Backman’s example is small, but it hits hard: she bought a gallon of milk that went bad even though it was unopened and still five days ahead of the sell-by date, then went to customer service and asked them to look it up using her membership number.

Instead of the easy refund she expected, she says the representative told her she needed to physically bring the spoiled milk back to the store.

Her reaction is telling – she describes it as surprising and annoying precisely because it runs against the mental picture members carry of Costco being easygoing about low-stakes items, especially when the product is clearly unusable.

To be fair, she also acknowledges a possibility most shoppers have experienced: it could have been one employee, one day, one mood, and not a companywide shift.

But she says she’s been hearing similar stories from other members, which is where the rumor starts to feel less like gossip and more like a trend.

Backman even points to a Reddit user who described the experience as tighter than it used to be, saying employees “dig in” more than they did a decade ago, and that it doesn’t feel as easy or friendly as when they first joined.

That quote matters because it reflects what a lot of people mean when they say a policy is changing, even if the written policy hasn’t moved much: the difference between what’s allowed on paper and what gets approved at the counter.

Returns Are A Money Pit And Everyone Knows It

Backman anchors her report in the ugly math behind returns, because no retailer makes these decisions in a vacuum.

She cites a FOX Business interview where ReverseLogix.com CEO Gaurav Saran explained that competitive return policies grew as retailers tried to win loyalty in an era of heavier online shopping, but that same generosity opened the door to abuse.

Then she drops the numbers that explain why executives everywhere are suddenly paying attention: she references figures from Appriss Retail and Deloitte that put fraudulent returns and claims at about $103 billion in 2024, described as roughly 15% of returned merchandise.

She also cites a separate number from the same general reporting thread: total returns reaching $685 billion in 2024, around 13.2% of all retail sales.

Even if someone never commits fraud, Backman notes returns still cost money through shipping, restocking, and labor, and through the reality that returned inventory may not sell again at the original price – or at all.

That’s the part many shoppers don’t think about, because from a customer’s perspective, a return is a simple reversal of a purchase.

From a retailer’s perspective, a return can be a product that has to be inspected, repackaged, discounted, or tossed, with people paid every step of the way to handle the problem.

Backman’s argument is that Costco – despite being Costco – doesn’t get to ignore those pressures forever, especially if abuse grows and the cost starts to show up somewhere else.

In her view, when returns get abused hard enough, someone eventually pays for it, and that “someone” can become the member in the form of higher prices.

What Costco Still Doesn’t Do And Where The Lines Already Exist

One reason the current debate gets confusing is that Costco never truly had a single, unlimited rule for everything, and Backman lays that out.

She points out that Costco already has exceptions, including a 90-day return window for electronics.

She also notes that diamond returns involve a vetting process, which is a reminder that the higher the value and the easier the fraud, the more careful any store becomes.

Backman further mentions that products with limited useful life – like batteries and tires – may be sold with a product-specific limited warranty rather than a wide-open return promise.

And she lists categories Costco won’t take back, including cigarettes and alcohol, event tickets, precious metals, Shop Cards, and gift cards, reflecting that some items are either regulated, too easily abused, or too difficult to verify once they leave the store.

What this does, quietly, is reset the conversation: the “Costco takes anything back forever” idea has always been a simplified version of something more complicated.

Backman’s real claim isn’t that Costco is suddenly becoming harsh, but that members may be experiencing more friction inside the space where Costco used to feel effortless, especially on everyday items where people assumed the answer was automatically yes.

The Snyder Angle: Questions At The Counter And Weird Returns In Real Life

Adam Snyder’s video hits the topic from a different direction, and it’s more boots-on-the-ground.

He says Costco is “possibly” going to make the return policy more strict, but he also stresses that the “100% satisfaction guarantee” model isn’t going away, because in his view Costco has built its identity on that promise.

What he thinks is changing is the tone: Costco moving away from “no questions asked” and toward asking questions, especially when an item looks more like customer-caused damage than a defect.

To illustrate it, Snyder talks about a moment he says he personally saw: someone tried to return a ripped-up piece of clothing, claiming it was defective, and the Costco employee asked what the return was for and whether it was truly a defect.

Snyder describes the garment as torn up to a point where it didn’t look like a manufacturing issue, and he says the rep refused the return, essentially drawing a line that the damage wasn’t on Costco.

That story matters because it matches the general feeling Backman described – less automatic approval, more scrutiny – just told through a real-world counter interaction instead of numbers and policy language.

Snyder also describes what he’s been seeing lately in Costco stores, especially after the holidays: people returning Christmas-related purchases well after Christmas, like decorations, and even wrapping paper that was mostly used, with the customer arguing it ripped too easily.

He seems baffled by it, and honestly, it’s hard not to understand why, because “defective wrapping paper” after you used most of the roll sounds less like a product problem and more like a refund hustle.

He ties that behavior to the economy, arguing that many people are struggling and looking for quick ways to get cash, and he claims some people treat generous return policies like a financial tool.

Snyder even mentions a story from his own life about someone he knows buying flowers at Costco for Valentine’s Day with a plan to bring them back days later, essentially using the return counter like a temporary rental desk.

He says he wouldn’t recommend that, but he describes it as the kind of behavior that grows when money is tight and people start chasing loopholes.

His broader claim is that if Costco tightens up, other retailers could follow, and he names companies like Walmart and Target as examples of brands that could feel pressure to respond if return abuse becomes even more widespread.

So Is Costco Ending Returns Or Just Rebuilding Guardrails?

Backman and Snyder aren’t saying the same thing in the same tone, but they’re circling the same conclusion: the “anything, anytime, no friction” era may be fading, even if the satisfaction guarantee remains.

Backman’s reporting leans on the idea that Costco has to protect its bottom line, because excessive losses don’t vanish – they get absorbed, and members can ultimately feel it.

At the same time, her milk example is a good reminder that there’s a big difference between cracking down on a person returning a couch years later because they got bored of it, and cracking down on a low-cost item that clearly went bad before it should have.

Snyder’s examples show why retailers get nervous: once customers begin treating returns as a lifestyle hack, it puts the employee at the counter in a weird role, almost like a fraud investigator, deciding whether a “defect” looks real.

That is not a fun job, and it’s not a great experience for honest members either, because when the store gets stricter, the honest person often gets the inconvenience right alongside the cheater.

If Costco is tightening, the smartest version of that move would probably look like what Backman hints at: make it harder to abuse the system on big-ticket items and obvious “used it then returned it” behavior, while keeping the old-school ease for low-cost, low-stakes stuff that keeps members loyal.

Because for a lot of people, the return desk isn’t just a policy – it’s part of what makes the membership feel worth paying for year after year.

And if that feeling starts to disappear, the questions members are asking right now won’t stop at returns; they’ll turn into a bigger question that Costco never wants its customers to ask: “What exactly am I paying for anymore?”