I was in the Austin airport on a high school trip, sleep-starved and very confused, when I bought a chicken sandwich from a machine. Not a kiosk with a human nearby–a literal vending robot.
The screen blinked: "Add a tip? 18% 22% 25%."
Without a thought, I immediately tipped. Two bucks to a stainless-steel rectangle that cannot feel gratitude.
The next morning, in bed with my friends (small hotel room), the YouTube algorithm served us a video on "robot tipping." My brain went: wait, what are we doing? I swore I'd never tip a robot again and felt extremely principled for about six minutes until the video ended.
I've thought about it every day since and somehow landed on the thesis of this post:
Tipflation is labour politics in disguise
America loves to make the price you see (menu price) different from the price you pay (tip screen). I call that hidden layer the second price. Once you notice it, you start seeing it everywhere: coffee shops, pickup windows, self-checkout, even the robot that delivered my airport chicken.
This isn't a "be stingy, don't tip" rant. Tip well under today's rules. But also: let's talk about why the rules keep shoving wage decisions onto your thumb at the tablet and what a "saner" setup would look like.
Marx, or something like that
In Value, Price and Profit, Karl Marx gives a way to understand price tags. What you pay is a package of inputs (beans, buns, rent, machines), the labour that turns those inputs into something you want, and a remainder after costs.
That remainder is the profit margin. So the real argument isn't whether "coffee good?" so much as who takes what share of the value workers create across the day.
One more idea matters here: socially necessary labour time–the average time it takes to make a thing with typical tools and skills, not your personal record or your worst record, it's just the socially average. Prices end up reflecting that average more than any one person's pace.
In a normal world, owners and workers figure out pay before anything gets sold. With the tablet, a slice of that wage gets tossed to you, wrapped in "be generous." Menu prices stay cute while some of the human cost of production is pushed onto the preset 18% 22% 25%. On paper, the business looks more efficient; in practice, a chunk of wage risk is now floating in the weather, the queue, and the customer's mood.
Why this feels… gross
If 22% is the first button, your brain reads it as "normal." Slow Tuesday? Surprise thunderstorm? Under tip-dependent pay, workers end up eating the dip. Performance (smile harder, laugh longer, absorb rudeness) gets braided into paying or not paying your rent. A back-office wage decision becomes an ethics exam for strangers.
Take a quick latte example. Say It's listed at $6. Ingredients and overhead take a chunk; wages take a chunk; something remains. When a shop relies on tips to cover part of wages, two things happen. First, the listed price stays lower than the real price of labour. Second, the remainder looks healthier without raising base pay because some wage arrives via tips. That's why I call tipping the second price: the hidden layer where wage bargaining happens in public, one beep at a time.
"But don't tips help workers?" (the honest yes, and the bigger no)
Yes, in the moment, tips can be a lifeline. That's exactly the problem. A lifeline isn't a system. If decent pay requires a thousand acts of private kindness every week, the structure is asking customers to do the boss's job. Keep tipping today; but also let's build a structure that doesn't make rent depend on a stranger's cortisol.
So.. who benefits from the second price?
Owners get price flexibility: menus look competitive; payroll looks smaller. Workers get higher highs on great nights and lower lows on dead hours. Customers get anxiety and a weird sense that buying lunch is a personality test.
What a saner setup may look like
For customers (you, hero of swivels): tip well under current rules. Don't punish workers for a system they didn't design. Prefer service-included places. Your receipt is more honest; your blood pressure is lower.
For workers: push for a solid base wage; if tips exist, make them actually a bonus and not what you need for rent, advocate for clear tip-pooling rules, emotional labour shouldn't be taxed twice.
For owners: put wages back on the paycheck. Price the product at the real cost of adult labour; your team will stay. If you keep a tip line, set modest defaults and communicate base pay openly. Transparency buys trust.
For policymakers (if any are reading my blog, hiiiii): nudge toward one fair wage (same minimum for tipped and non-tipped), and let tips be dessert, not rent.
Quick FAQ I made up (and also asked myself)
Q: "Is Europe different?"
A: Generally, yes. Wages live on paychecks, service is included, and tips are dessert, not dinner. In some places (e.g., Japan), tipping can even be considered odd or rude.
Q: "Won't prices be higher?"
A: Yeah, but at least they're honest. And your cortisol will go down when the tablet stops asking you if you have a soul.
Q: "Are you saying to never tip?"
A: No. Tip well today. Then support policies and shops that make tipping optional tomorrow.
That's all. If this resonated (or made you slightly angry in a productive way), check back here from time to time; I'll probably post more labour relations-related stuff.