The Pedestal Of Shame

Tech Enabled Tip Grift: Might Not Be The Workers Fault

***I had an epiphany while writing this piece and completely changed my opinion by the end. Wait for the PLOT TWIST.

We’ve All Been Here:

Tech Enabled Tipping

In 2025, tipping has become a tech-enabled grift, and at the center of it stands the pedestal of shame.

It starts simply enough. You walk into a coffee shop. You order a $4.50 coffee. There is no eye contact. No acknowledgment. A tattooed barista finally approaches, wordlessly hands you the cup, and in a single smooth motion flips a little white terminal toward you.

The screen lights up with suggested tips. Not percentages, just cold, aggressive dollar amounts: $1, $2, $3. For a $4.50 coffee.

And there I am, standing at the pedestal of shame. Face to face with a stranger who, for five seconds, can summon a mind-controlling, wallet-bending gaze.

I have no power. I tap “$2,” tipping nearly 50 percent, and walk away, my pride rattling in my chest. Only as the caffeine kicks in do I slowly regain my dignity.

What Is A Tip For?

Why are we tipping for bottles of water at the airport? Why am I tipping while packing my own groceries? I am a person who actually does this, but I appreciate eye contact in the process.

I believe in helping people who work in retail. I am happy to tip generously for real service, for real effort, for even the smallest gesture of human acknowledgment.

But today, the ritual of tipping is detached from service. It is triggered by screens, engineered guilt, and carefully staged public performances.

The 27% Restaurant Tip Circa 2025.

Even in restaurants where tipping 20% has long been a given, the pedestal of shame has grown taller.

The server brings the check. I add 20%, automatically. Then, as I hand back the receipt, they mention:

“By the way, there’s an extra 7% tip option…it goes directly to me”

Translation: what you just gave isn’t enough.

A new button. A new glance. A new pedestal of shame.

If I press it, I get a smile. If I don’t, I am quickly dismissed.

Service, Obligation Or Tech Enabled Tune Out

Tipping used to be a way to say “thank you.”

Today, it is a reflex. A moment of guilt built into the checkout flow.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped rewarding service.

And now I am left wondering how we got here. Is it the workers, or is it the tech?

PLOT TWIST. After writing this piece, I am thinking it could actually be the technology’s fault…

Retail technology has not just sped up transactions. It has built a screen between us, making it possible to disconnect even when standing just a foot apart.

Now real life retail feels as detached as social media.

Is the technology informing the behavior?

Think about that the next time the screen flips toward you.