Down with self-checkout

Lately, I’ve been paying closer attention to the empathy gaps that become visible on public transit. Here’s an example: You’re trying to board an already-packed subway. There’s standing room toward the middle of the car, but people remain clustered around the doors. Standing on the platform, you may fill with irritation. Why won’t people move the hell in and make room for others? But here’s an unpleasant reaction I observe in myself: The second I’m able to wedge myself on, all concern for the saps stuck on the other side of the doors evaporates. Sorry! Catch the next one. After video of a man shaving on New Jersey Transit went viral, The Goods reporter Aditi Shrikant took a look at the empathy we’re willing to extend to others when it comes to grooming on the subway. Everyone has a different level of tolerance for people putting on makeup, brushing their hair, or flossing their teeth in public. But as Aditi writes, this is a conversation related to gender and class, because having the time and space to get ready before you get on the subway in the morning is a privilege. As it turned out, the New Jersey commuter had just left a homeless shelter and wasn’t able to shave before departing to meet his family. “It’s easier to believe that someone who is clipping their nails on transit is rude rather than rushed or disadvantaged," writes Aditi. This story is a good reminder to question those easy assumptions. —[Eliza Brooke](, senior reporter for The Goods The many, many controversies over grooming on the subway and the bus, explained [women grooming on the bus]( Getty Images A [video of a man dragging a razor across his shaving cream-laden face went viral this month]( — not because of his immaculate technique, but because he was on a train. The recording of this New Jersey commuter accumulated 2.4 million views and was met with a deluge of tweets expressing everything from admiration to disgust, one hailing the man as a “legend” and another saying “this would have put me over the edge.” Later, [it was revealed]( that the commuter, Anthony Torres, was 56 and living in a homeless shelter when his brother sent him just enough money for a train ticket. He didn’t get a chance to tidy up at the homeless shelter and said he wanted to look “presentable” for his family, so he had to shave on his commute. This is an especially extreme example of on-the-go grooming, but it’s one of many that have spurred the debate about how much is too much when it comes to getting ready on public transportation. From [women applying makeup while commuting]( to [subway riders clipping their nails]( to the [New York City subway itself advising riders not to publicly primp](, everyone has a boiling-hot take on this phenomenon. It’s a debate that reveals how we think about transient spaces and how we understand one another. So why do some people rush to judgment and others to sympathy (or apathy) when they see someone brushing their hair in a space that belongs to neither of them? Most public transit is far from luxurious, and when another passenger makes it even more uncomfortable, it can be maddening. But transit etiquette has to do with not only hygiene and personal space, but also lines drawn by gender and class. Basically: Don’t assume someone grooming in public is doing it out of rudeness. [Read the rest of the story >>]( Wouldn’t it be better if self-checkout just died? [self checkout]( Spencer Tirey/Walmart Rochester, New York, is a [notorious]( [model]( of terrible urban planning and idiotic corporate sponsorship. On the underdeveloped side of the Genesee River, next to the bus station, sits the “National Museum of Play,” an odd institution founded by Margaret Woodbury Strong — a Rochester native who inherited millions of dollars and used it to collect thousands of dolls. The museum has rotating exhibits, but its centerpiece is an elaborate model of a Wegmans grocery store, sponsored by Wegmans, which is owned by the Wegmans family, which is the area’s sole billion-dollar dynasty. In the mini Wegmans [“Super Kids Market,”]( children select groceries (plastic produce, but real cereal boxes and genuine Chef Boyardee cans) from real grocery shelves, put them in real (miniaturized) Wegmans shopping carts, [ring them up]( on functioning cash registers with real grocery scanners, and print themselves real receipts with a real Wegmans logo at the top. It’s so fun. Pretend to work in a grocery store? Pretend to have money? Pretend you alone are in charge of what you eat and all you are going to eat forever is Cinnamon Toast Crunch and alphabet soup? Amazing. But (for me, at least) that was the late ’90s. Far from novelty or spon-con child’s game, self-checkouts pop up everywhere now: at the new Target in Barclays Center where I buy my useless seasonal objects and knockoff Urban Outfitters clothes; at the CVS where I buy my disgusting [seasonal candy](; at the Panera Bread where I buy a seasonal autumn squash soup and half a grilled cheese. I’ve heard they are in grocery stores throughout the city, but I refuse to look. I saw a self-checkout in the [Urban Outfitters]( in Herald Square and almost called the ACLU: Some lucky employee sits on a stool near the self-checkout stations and does nothing but remove ink tags from things before you buy them? Sure. What is a person if not just a slightly more dexterous arm than the ones that robots so far have? Blessedly, I am not alone in fearing self-checkout. John Karolefski, a self-proclaimed undercover grocery shopping analyst who runs the blog [Grocery Stories]( and contributes to the site [Progressive Grocer](, tells me, “I’m in a lot of supermarkets around the country. I watch people. I can tell you that I’ve been in stores where the lines that have cashiers are very, very long, and people are a little upset, and there are three or four self-checkout units open and nobody is using them. “Wouldn’t the shopper be better served, customer service improved, if those weren’t there?” he asks. I’m not arguing. “Why do I want to scan my own groceries?” he asks. I have no idea! “Why do I want to bag my own groceries?” he asks. An equally reasonable question with no reasonable answer. The simple solution, he points out, would be to hire enough cashiers to serve the number of customers that typically shop at the store. I agree, and this seems very obvious. [Read the rest of the story >>]( More good stuff to read today - [These costumes objectify Native American women. Retailers won’t stop selling them.]( - [Why a frozen steak brand is tweeting about millennial ennui]( - [The gig economy isn’t going anywhere. 4 experts explain why.]( - [Can guided tours save Airbnb?]( - [Why workplace bans on facial hair marginalize men of color]( - [Retail workers are more vulnerable than ever. A new campaign wants to protect their jobs.]( Manage your [email preferences](, or [unsubscribe]( to stop receiving emails from Vox Media. Vox Media, 1201 Connecticut Ave. NW, Washington, DC 20036. Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.