the self checkout...
In her latest book, Talk to the Hand: The Utter Bloody Rudeness of Everyday Life, Lynn Truss presents a zero tolerance guide to modern manners (or lack thereof). The book is mostly a rant about the insufficiencies of modern-day social interactions, but there is, at heart, some thoughtful analysis of how technology (among other things) has changed the manner in which we relate to our environment. In the chapter entitled Why am I the one doing this?, she decries the corporate use of technology to shift increasingly more work onto customers while simultaneously shunning ever more responsibility towards them. Think online banking, automated call management systems etc.
It was thus with great disgust that I recently patronized a branch of Sainsbury's Central (one of those that doesn't so much sell food as plastic with perhaps an apple attached if you're lucky, that doesn't so much charge you for ingredients as for the cost of processing them into something that you're made to believe you have neither the time nor skill to do yourself for half the price). Having picked up my two packets of pasta, I despaired to discover the length of the checkout line. I despaired even more at the fact that only 3 of the 14 checkouts were actually staffed. And then I spotted it....
The self checkout.... this, apparently, is the principle. Why queue? Take your shopping, for which you've diligently rummaged around in our store, scan it yourself, run up the bill yourself, process your own payment, bag your own groceries. It's so convenient! Meanwhile, all I could think of was "Why the hell should I be the one doing this?" Just because your stupid store is too tight to employ enough staff, I should do even more of the work myself and still pay the same price? Not to mention the absurdity of having to stand there in front of everyone scanning your own goods while the stupid machine goes: "89 p, 1 pound 72 p. Please scan your credit card now. Thank you for using Sainsbury's self checkout. Goodbye."
"Screw that", I thought. Out of sheer indignation, I opted to queue for 10 minutes for a staffed checkout. I figure if enough people refuse to use the self checkout, they'll eventually get rid of the damn things. It's futile, though, I know. I missed my train for one, and I imagine that most people will eventually give in. Corporate efficiency and cost-saving are, after all, achieved by making you believe you have a choice when, in fact, as Lynn Truss points out, all you're really being offered is a set of pre-determined options, none of which are necessarily what you need.
It was thus with great disgust that I recently patronized a branch of Sainsbury's Central (one of those that doesn't so much sell food as plastic with perhaps an apple attached if you're lucky, that doesn't so much charge you for ingredients as for the cost of processing them into something that you're made to believe you have neither the time nor skill to do yourself for half the price). Having picked up my two packets of pasta, I despaired to discover the length of the checkout line. I despaired even more at the fact that only 3 of the 14 checkouts were actually staffed. And then I spotted it....
The self checkout.... this, apparently, is the principle. Why queue? Take your shopping, for which you've diligently rummaged around in our store, scan it yourself, run up the bill yourself, process your own payment, bag your own groceries. It's so convenient! Meanwhile, all I could think of was "Why the hell should I be the one doing this?" Just because your stupid store is too tight to employ enough staff, I should do even more of the work myself and still pay the same price? Not to mention the absurdity of having to stand there in front of everyone scanning your own goods while the stupid machine goes: "89 p, 1 pound 72 p. Please scan your credit card now. Thank you for using Sainsbury's self checkout. Goodbye."
"Screw that", I thought. Out of sheer indignation, I opted to queue for 10 minutes for a staffed checkout. I figure if enough people refuse to use the self checkout, they'll eventually get rid of the damn things. It's futile, though, I know. I missed my train for one, and I imagine that most people will eventually give in. Corporate efficiency and cost-saving are, after all, achieved by making you believe you have a choice when, in fact, as Lynn Truss points out, all you're really being offered is a set of pre-determined options, none of which are necessarily what you need.
posted by CCT at 8:27 pm
1 Comments:
I would prefer to use self-checkout. Why should I standing there staring at others' goodies for 10 minutes? It is very common practise now in Cambridge's Sainsbury Central where there are five to six machines and people just stop queueing in the line now...
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