Humans vs. machines in the checkout aisle

And now for something completely different, let’s talk about a critical issue that’s dividing Americans.

Are you team self-checkout or team human cashiers?

Some people love self-checkout. Others, not so much.

A guy named Spencer from Texas found a post on Facebook and shared it with his followers on X, formerly Twitter, last Sunday. The Facebook post was addressed to Target, Walmart, Aldi, Home Depot, and other outlets with self-checkout kiosks.

“You are heading towards almost exclusively self-checkout now. The lady checking receipts at the exit was stopping everyone. I didn’t choose to participate in that nonsense; I had already:

“Filled my cart.

“Emptied my cart.

“Scanned the items.

“Refilled my cart.

“And so I just skipped the line and left...

“You can either trust me to do self-checkout, or you can put your cashiers back in place like they used to be,” the post said.

It received 19,000 likes and 6,300 re-posts. Clearly, it struck a nerve.

Self-checkout has been around for 30 years. And, yet, its growing use is spawning strong opinions. Maybe it’s a generational thing, with young shoppers flocking to self-checkout and the rest of us more, ahem, experienced shoppers longing for the good old days when humans had jobs.

We should ask Generation Z, why they like self-checkout. Never mind, they have their AirPods in.

Bring the issue up at Christmas dinner and watch sparks fly. But it’s far better than fighting about former president you-know-who.

Personally, I’m ambivalent when it comes to self-checkout. If I’m at a big box home improvement store and need to buy a pack of wood screws, I’m glad to use the kiosk and be on my way. Same thing at the grocery store if I’m dashing in to grab a loaf of bread, a bottle of milk and a stick of butter.

But if I’ve got a cart filled with groceries, including fruit and vegetables that need to be weighed, and booze requiring government evidence of my advanced years, I look for a real person manning the old-timey cash register.

Did I find everything I needed? Yes I did, thanks.

As you may have noticed, a fleet of self-checkout lanes is generally monitored by a single harried employee. They’re skittering from kiosk to kiosk, checking IDs and correcting shopper errors. The light above your lane may be blinking, desperately, but it could be a while before this poor soul fixes your issue. Any minute now.

Self-checkout was sold as a big time-saver. Arrive at the store in your flying car, pick up replacement lightsaber batteries and buy them easily without lines or the need for chit-chat. A modern miracle.

That hasn’t exactly worked out. On busy shopping days, there are lines of people waiting for an available kiosk. Then there’s the aforementioned wait for assistance. There’s also the realization you’re performing a task someone used to get paid for doing. The words “corporate chump” cross your mind.

In the grocery store I frequent most, there used to be an express checkout lane, 12 items or less, staffed by two cashiers. Sure, some malcontents rolled in with 30 items, but it still seemed fast. And it doesn’t seem like self-checkout is a big improvement.

I won’t name the store. Although I have found smiles in every aisle. And sometimes armed guards.

Which brings us to the reason some retailers are rethinking self-checkout. We can’t be trusted. Any savings stores might have realized by replacing humans with scanners is being eaten up by theft.

This is known in the retail game as “shrink.” And in November CNN reported on a study showing retailers using self-checkout in the United States, Britain and Europe are experiencing a shrink rate of 4 percent. That, apparently, is a lot of cabbage.

So much that the British grocery chain Booths is pulling all self-checkout kiosks from its stores. Walmart pulled its machines from some stores in New Mexico. Costco is considering hiring more staff to supervise self-checkout. Apparently, non-members have been sneaking in to buy metric ton packages of toilet paper. Who knew?

Certainly, no such skullduggery is occurring in Iowa. It would not be Iowa Nice to scan bananas and bag a ribeye steak. You can always trust us to do the right thing, or so I’ve heard.

My biggest problem with self-checkout is that it means fewer jobs for teenagers. You can learn a lot by working, and smiling, of course, in the aisles, at the cash register and in the backrooms only employees see. I know the work isn’t as rugged as toiling in commercial freezers or meatpacking plants, but you’re more likely to end your shift with all your digits.

Ironically, if you want actual human contact, ordering your groceries online is a good choice. People will be shopping to fulfill your order.

They’ll send you texts, such as “We’re currently out of Hy-Vee Classic Eggnog… May we replace it with the item in the picture shown on the shelf?”

Yes, thanks.

This is true human drama. A diligent shopper texted me at a critical moment. Eggnog is hanging in the balance. Will my holidays be ruined, or will they be saved? Do you believe in Christmas miracles? Yes!

So good luck with your non-cyber holiday shopping and obtaining your Christmas feast. May you find a smiling human waiting to help you, or a free self-checkout kiosk.

Which brings up another issue. Paper, plastic or reusable bag?

(319) 398-8262; todd.dorman@thegazette.com