My card tapped. The cashier pretended to look away. There was an awkward moment of silence. The obligatory screen. The customary tip. Am I being judged? Who’s behind me? I can’t decide. Should I just close my eyes and pin the tail on the donkey? I will go low. 15% then, or maybe a dollar? Am I being cheap? But it makes no sense. They make coffee and I already paid for it. What’s it for? Who gets it? What’s appropriate? 10% seems ok. But that’s custom. More screens. More time. More awkwardness. What if I don’t tip? Will she notice? Does he care? Tap something. Just tap and leave. Tap. 20%. Awkward silence ends. They smile. We will call your name when it’s ready.
I blame it all on our post-pandemic economy. Prices have gone up because the cost of goods has gone up. Have you felt the pinch yet?
Many Americans are in a sour mood about the economy for one main reason: Prices feel too high.1
Before we redefined what normal meant, my emergency tip-calculating brain cells always did the work to calculate the cost of gratitude and good service. If I was happy and satisfied, it’s a no-brainer 20%. If the server continued to address me as Roger or Rodge instead of Raj, maybe 10%? If I was having the best time of my life, it could be a whopping 25%. If the good times got me drunk, then I wouldn’t even remember what I had scribbled on until the regretful morning after. In general, restaurant tipping is easy. The measure of my satisfaction is an easy formula.
The inflation reports have been no good since the great pandemic. The Biden administration slightly flip-flopped on the softness of the “soft landing” they predicted. He still wants us to keep hope alive, reminding us that he got our inflation way down from its record high numbers a year ago. True! Still, prices are up, and I never used to feel this guilty about my latte lifestyle.
On whether we will see pre-pandemic prices at the grocery stores? Experts say no. Because, price drop = deflation = bad for economy. But disinflation = the stabilization of prices = good for economy. All that to say, the $6 lattes are here to stay.
Nowadays, the base price for a regular latte is over $6, then maybe you add in vanilla syrup, which costs you an extra dollar, and ask for oat milk, which is a dollar more. You’re now staring at an $8 drink, plus taxes and, assuming you’re doing the right thing here, at least a $1 tip.2
Part 1: Every dollar counts.
Not just for my Barista, an hourly wageworker, but also for me — the coffee-art loving customer who lives pay-check to pay-check. So when a Barista is tipped for the coffee I bought, it’s a happy transaction. Tipping is a way to express my gratitude for the service I expect or hope to receive. At times, it’s simply a friendly gesture between acquaintances. As the gratitude-giver in this relationship, I add that extra 15-20% for the warm welcome, for making me feel important, and for knowing exactly how I like my coffee — never too sweet, always in a mug, and extra hot.
But when every dollar counts, with the prices already inflated on everything from eggs to gas, this “happiness contract” needs to have some basic rules. Because it has gotten out of hand.
Don’t get me wrong, there is absolutely no debate to why good service needs to be appreciated with extra gratitude. After all, it’s a tradition that tracks back to 17th century taverns and inns.
What grinds my gears is the math that goes into pre-defined tipping recommendations at the point-of-service checkout machines. The business owners who set it up seem to take the customer for granted.
For instance, why would the merch (sticker, cap, tee, etc.) that I picked up from the counter along with my coffee require a default 15% tip? Shouldn’t those orders be kept separate?
Why would a takeout order require a tip when it was ordered over an app or online with minimal human interaction? We are already paying for the cost of the product and the service as part of the MRP, aren’t we?
What about the audacity of the unmanned kiosk at the airport vending machine asking for tips? Not only are we allowing machines and AI to take over human jobs, we also want to tip them for it.
Needless to say, this culture of tipping in America has gone wild. What started out in the restaurant industry as a way to foster an environment built on quality of service, has been adopted widely in the food-service industry to delivery apps and anything with an app face. This has led to the culture of guilt-tipping, which is what most of us are defaulting to these days.
The tipping culture is unique in America. It is expected, not just customary. While you won’t offend the wait staff with a 10-15% add-on tip in most other countries, including the UK and the EU, make a note that tipping in Japan could backfire on you.
Tipping in Japan is not expected, and attempts to leave a tip will almost certainly be turned down (a potentially awkward moment). In Japan, it’s thought that by dining out or drinking at a bar, you are already paying the establishment for good service.3
In my frequent travels to India, The Middle East, and Australia, I have never had to tip out of guilt. They are happy with what we leave behind in the bill/check holder, maybe it's the change, or perhaps a little more, or nothing at all. The locals definitely don’t seem to care. Good service is always expected in the hospitality industry, as it should be, and the tip after is a gratitude reserved for the grateful.
So, what’s so unique about America? Stay tuned for Part 2, as we continue to explore America’s tipping culture — the troubled history from pre-emancipation days, and about those who are fighting the good fight on the frontlines against the other NRA — the National Restaurant Association.
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It's not Biden's doing. It's whoever allows corporate greed to control the rest of us. But don't believe me, believe Robert Reich:https://masto.ai/@rbreich