Self-serving?

What’s all the fuss about self-service tills? Has anything so mundane ever been so divisive?

Every few months a new survey comes out about the popularity of self-service tills. It doesn’t really matter what the numbers are, those rabid commentators on the Mail Online have a field day arguing amongst themselves. It’s the same on Twitter. Battle lines are drawn. Self-service tills are either quite convenient, or a stressful, frustrating nightmare that always break down. Long term, the picture painted by the haters is far more ominous, a terrifying dystopian future where the supermarket has evolved into one giant robot while poor humans are done out of a job by the rise of the machines.

Personally, I love the things. I use them all the time when I’ve only got a few things to buy. It’s really quick. It’s really easy. If Fisher Price made a checkout the public could use to buy stuff they would probably come up with something similar (only made of plastic in primary colours with more fun sounds). The self-service till is basically a big touchscreen and a scale. They couldn’t be simpler to use. Could they?

Yes! According to a survey by Tensator they could be. The survey revealed the extraordinary fact that of the 400 shoppers questioned, one in three have been so incensed by something or other the self-service till has done to them in the past that they have actually dumped their shopping and walked out of a supermarket.

Abandoned their shop! Amazing! What did the checkout do? Call them fat? Slap their whining kids?

No, it probably claimed there was something unidentified in the bagging area. The silly machine got confused about something or other. No doubt it thought they put something somewhere they shouldn’t have. It was probably wrong about that. And yes, someone came along with a little key and pushed some buttons to make it work again. But really, if that makes you want to throw down your shopping and call the whole thing off its best you stick to doing things the old fashioned way. Head for the big queues at the big checkouts. We won’t mind, really. It just means one less person in front of us.