American tipping culture is out of control

It is yet another toxic byproduct of America’s tragic past

tipping

I hate tipping, not because I am intrinsically mean but because of the anxiety it induces. You pitch up at some glam hotel, after a grueling flight, then the guy next to the concierge takes your bags to your room, and, as you go, you fumble in your pockets, searching for the mysterious notes and coins, even as you try to estimate the right amount to tip the porter.

Tipping is yet another toxic byproduct of America’s tragic past and should be treated like an invasive species

This is a complex equation at the best of times,…

I hate tipping, not because I am intrinsically mean but because of the anxiety it induces. You pitch up at some glam hotel, after a grueling flight, then the guy next to the concierge takes your bags to your room, and, as you go, you fumble in your pockets, searching for the mysterious notes and coins, even as you try to estimate the right amount to tip the porter.

Tipping is yet another toxic byproduct of America’s tragic past and should be treated like an invasive species

This is a complex equation at the best of times, as it involves so many imponderables: the state of the local economy, the likely wages hereabouts, the emotionally correct sum to give — not insultingly little but not so much that you look like an oligarch. At the same time you often have to calculate this amount in a foreign currency (Heck is a shekel? What else can I do with my Vietnamese dong?).

On top of that, you’re asking yourself: is this a country that tips? Because some countries don’t like tips at all — e.g. Japan. A tip in Japan can actually be insulting. I’ve experienced this: they look down at your proffered yen with a mirthless smile, and a terse little headshake, all of which says: “I do my job well because I want to do it well, not because you grace me with small change.”

Some countries expect tipping all the time. By which I mean: the United States of America.

Anyone who has spent a day in America will grasp what I am saying. In America you are expected to tip everyone perpetually. Such is the obscene scale of tipping there, I am always thankful to leave the country (much as I love it) and get back home to relatively sane, relatively tip-free Britain. This is
why I read, with proper horror, a recent Bloomberg headline which said “American tipping is coming to British pubs” — via the tipping option on contactless payments. And to them I say: NO. You can keep this particular sociocultural nightmare to yourselves, thanks very much.

Tipping in America is really out of control. In upscale restaurants, you are generally expected to tip 20 percent as a minimum. Thus there is pressure to go further — to show your genuine admiration for the groveling chitchat of the waitperson, so you might go up to 30 percent, or 40 percent. Shucks, just double the bill.

You are also expected to tip a bar-person every single time they give you a drink. You must also, of course, tip taxi drivers, or they will hit you, and you must tip anyone who delivers anything. You must tip manicurists. And baristas in coffee shops. Likewise checkout staff. And the people who look after your kids. Or your pets. Or your furniture.

Sometimes in America I wonder if I should tip the president, daily, simply for running the country and not falling down.

My own personal example of a mad American tip came at a breakfast buffet at a posh hotel in Texas. Not a single human being interacted with me, no one gave me anything, no one handed me a plate. I did it all myself; there weren’t any staff visible. Only at the end did a yawning waitperson come out and ask me to sign a bill and leave a hefty tip. For what? Did someone artfully arrange the plates, when I wasn’t looking? Still I tipped. The emotional pressure was too intense.

These days Americans are often asked to tip at self-checkout machines. And I’ve seen people try to justify this by saying: someone worked hard to get that merchandise into the shop, to which I can only reply: “Well, great, why not give them a salary? And, by the way, I’m taking my next holiday in Tokyo.”

If you’re still not convinced that the rest of the world should resist the spread of American tipping culture (which polls show is massively unpopular in America) then let me give you one last argument: the roots of this lunacy.

Like so many ills of American society, it comes from slavery: the original sin of the western superpower. When slaves were emancipated by Lincoln, a lot came North. But the only jobs they could get were in hotels, bars and restaurants, and the racist owners said: “I’m not giving you a decent wage, you’ll have to make it up with tips.”

Thus the Great American Tipping Madness was born. Tipping is yet another toxic byproduct of America’s tragic past and we should therefore treat it like any other nasty invasive species: whenever you see an example of silly tipping, crush it. Just say No. If you’re in a pub, click the 0 percent and do it with a smile.

This article was originally published in The Spectator’s UK magazine. Subscribe to the World edition here.

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