One of the biggest, if not the biggest, I-told-you-so moments in history was unfolding 40 years ago this summer.
Business executives in charge of one of the greatest brands of all time said, “Let’s change it. What could possibly go wrong?”
Thus, was born “New Coke.” Introduced out of nowhere in April 1985 to replace the classic formula, New Coke was re-replaced by “Coca-Cola Classic” by the following July, amid a public outcry.
Like, nobody saw that coming?
More recently, business executives in charge of pretty much all of retail said, “Let’s replace traditional checkout lanes with self-service kiosks. People will love the convenience, and we won’t have to pay those pesky clerks. What could possibly go wrong?”
“Please start the band saw by pressing the green button, and gently slide meat and bone through the cutting blade. In case of dismemberment, please press the red button or, if unable, await assistance.”
Well, pretty much everything.
I’ve used the self-checkout registers at various retail stores, albeit grudgingly — and often because there’s no choice. Those registers are something I’ve avoided out of principle as much as convenience (or the lack of convenience, I should say).
It’s one of many ways in which we are losing the human element. First the baggers disappear, then the cashiers. What’s next? Will we have to butcher our own pork shoulders? I can see it now — the pleasant, synthesized voice guiding us through the meat cutting process:
“Please start the band saw by pressing the green button, and gently slide meat and bone through the cutting blade. In case of dismemberment, please press the red button or, if unable, await assistance.”
There should be a discount for using the self-checkout. You are, in effect, working for the supermarket for those five minutes. Say the prevailing cashier pay is $17 an hour. You should have $1 taken off your grocery bill. Maybe even get health benefits.
So, I only have a few items, and only one express lane was open — with a long line.
“Please begin scanning,” said the voice. I did as instructed, and I did well through the first few items. Then came the tomato. I scanned the small barcode, but it did not compute.
“Please place item on scale.” Then the screen showed an array of tomatoes, and I was to choose my variety.
It’s red and round, that’s all I know. I touched the image that most looked like mine, but was admonished to begin again. After two attempts, I was told to wait for assistance. The talking register did not sound very pleased with me. Help arrived with a stern look on her face.
She said, “This is how to do it!” And with what looked like a magic wave, and then the keystrokes of a concert pianist, my tomato was now legal.
But now those self-checkouts are starting to disappear. Is it an altruistic move on the part of Corporate America? Do they want to return humanity to the cash register?
Not really. The reason is that most classic of motivations: profit.
It seems that retailers have found they are losing money with self-checkout. Any savings on labor were being eaten, and then some, by losses from customer error and outright theft.
A study of retailers in the United States and Europe found that companies with self-checkout lanes and apps had a loss rate of about 4%, more than double the industry average at conventional checkouts.
Like, nobody saw that coming?
Some stores, like Target and Dollar General, have gone so far as to physically remove most — if not all — of their self-checkouts and replace them with human-operated lanes. The primary goal is to eliminate the lanes of anarchy — not necessarily restore the humans.
Removing people and their costs will continue, and it’s only a matter of time before retailers figure out a more effective way of dropping cashiers, such as more widespread use of RFID tags, which can scan and record every item packed in your shopping cart or stuffed in your pants. You’ll think of yourself as a human E-ZPass.
Joe brings decades of journalism experience to the Ridge View Echo, covering everything from local school boards to the U.S. Supreme Court. A former National Law Journal editor and Columbia Law School press officer, he now enjoys telling community stories in Blairstown, where he lives with his wife, Rose, and their two dachshunds.
- Joe Phalon, Contributing Writerhttps://ridgeviewecho.com/author/joe-phalon-contributing-writer/
- Joe Phalon, Contributing Writerhttps://ridgeviewecho.com/author/joe-phalon-contributing-writer/
- Joe Phalon, Contributing Writerhttps://ridgeviewecho.com/author/joe-phalon-contributing-writer/
- Joe Phalon, Contributing Writerhttps://ridgeviewecho.com/author/joe-phalon-contributing-writer/
