Gen Z Is Checking Out: Maybe We Should Listen

Gen Z appears to be the first generation destined to check out—or, should I say, self-check out—from traditional society.

A shopping cart, in a file photo. Lionel Bonaventure/AFP via Getty Images

Commentary

Nobody in the United States, we’re told, enjoys using self-service checkouts—but that’s a lie.

There’s one generation who loves using them: Generation Z.

According to a new report by digital solutions company Avery Dennison, 37 percent of shoppers in the United States and the UK would switch to a retailer that offers fully checkout-free stores. Additionally, 67 percent of respondents prefer retailers that offer self-scanning at the end of their shopping trip, and 59 percent express the same preference for self-scanning while they shop.

Interestingly, however, Generation Z is at the forefront of this tech-driven trend, with 52 percent of them willing to switch retailers for checkout-free stores. Moreover, 49 percent of respondents indicate that “they would be likely to spend more money with a retailer that has a connected or automated checkout experience,” and 52 percent believe that connected stores would increase their loyalty to a retail brand.

Gen Z, it seems, can’t get enough of “frictionless shopping.” The factors driving Gen Z toward cashier-free retail experiences include a faster shopping experience (46 percent), the convenience of not having to wait in line (34 percent), and, most worryingly of all, reduced interaction with other people (33 percent).

The report goes against mainstream narratives. Self-checkouts, according to a recent piece in The Atlantic, have failed—and continue to fail—the American people.

“You know how this process actually goes by now: You still have to wait in line. The checkout kiosks bleat and flash when you fail to set a purchase down in the right spot,” noted the clearly irritated author of the piece, Amanda Mull. “Scanning those items is sometimes a crapshoot.”

She noted that some customers wave “a barcode too vigorously in front of an uncooperative machine,” and suddenly scan the item “two or three times.” To compound matters, “you need to locate the usually lone employee charged with supervising all of the finicky kiosks, who will radiate exasperation at you while scanning her ID badge and tapping the kiosk’s touch screen from pure muscle memory.”

Self-checkouts, Ms. Mull concluded, are an embarrassment, very much a failed experiment. Nevertheless, the rather perverse experiment continues. Today, although most Americans can’t stand them, self-checkout terminals reign supreme. Some reports suggest that the reign may be coming to an end. But, right now, self-checkouts are the norm. Why is this the case? In short, it’s not about what the people want; it’s about what the stores want. In plain English: fewer staff, more machines.

Although the rise in self-checkout machines is lamentable, even infuriating, it’s Gen Z’s desire to use them that should really concern us. After all, self-checkouts were designed explicitly to remove humans from the equation. No cashier. Just you, the customer, and a mercurial machine that, as Ms. Mull expertly pointed out, appears to derive great joy from turning a tedious task into an enraging one.

Gen Z, it seems, would rather run the risk of being enraged than run the risk of having a conversation with another human being. This helps explain why, of all the generations, Gen Z is the loneliest, by far.

It’s not entirely Gen Z’s fault. In many ways, they’re victims of the environments in which they were raised. Many of them have, from an early age, been glued to the screens of various digital devices. They lack proper socialization skills.

Even more concerningly, Gen Z appear to be fans of self-checkout machines for another reason: It’s easier to steal.

According to a recent LendingTree survey, almost a third (31 percent) of Gen Zers surveyed confessed to engaging in shoplifting from self-checkout aisles. This percentage is notably higher than that of the overall shopper population, which stands at 15 percent. The survey, which included 2,000 U.S. consumers, also revealed that nearly half of the Gen Z participants (46 percent) expressed their intentions to steal the most expensive item in their shopping cart. Additionally, 37 percent of Gen Zers admitted their intention to steal more essential items such as food and water.

This isn’t healthy behavior, and these aren’t healthy intentions. It’s an alarming finding that raises a number of questions and even more concerns.

As Terrence Daryl Shulman, author of “Something for Nothing: Shoplifting Addiction and Recovery“ and founder of the Shulman Center for Compulsive Theft, Spending, and Hoarding, has noted: “Most people who resort to stealing are actually ‘crying for help.’ There’s something amiss, wrong, unresolved, absent.”

Often, he said, they’re angry, grieving, or depressed. Shoplifting, especially compulsive shoplifting, isn’t necessarily done to get something for nothing. Instead, it’s done to distract individuals from the sadness of their existence. It makes sense. Happy, content people don’t shoplift. Millions of Gen Zers aren’t happy, and they’re certainly not content.

They’re lost and lonely. In fact, the loneliness epidemic is so bad that some Gen Zers are spending money on gym memberships (you can’t steal a gym membership)—not necessarily to get fit but to make friends.

Gen Z isn’t just struggling to make friends. Many of this generation’s members are struggling to hold onto the ones they already have. Friendships require cultivation, maintenance, and sacrifice. They can be hard work.

Which brings us back to the Avery Dennison report and its broader implications for society. Gen Z appears to be the first generation destined to check out—or, should I say, self-check out—from traditional society.

It’s easy for members of other generations to poke fun at Gen Z, to constantly criticize them. But, as is clear to see, many of these young adults are crying out for help. Maybe, instead of constant ridicule, they require a little more compassion.

Views expressed in this article are opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.