Here’s a tip, Australia: Leave this bad American habit to them

After two Australian-style brunch deprived years abroad in New York, the smashed avo with a poached egg, side of Vegemite and long black I ordered in a Melbourne café for my first meal back triggered a reaction that could have given Meg Ryan a run for her money.

But to my horror, as I went to pay at the counter, the barista averted his eyes and swivelled the tablet screen to reveal three options for a tip. Immediately I was transported back to Manhattan, where I participated in this awkward interaction multiple times per day.

It’s a slippery slope: one day its tipping, the next it’s the imperial system, branded ambulances and a new class of working poor.Credit: iStock

As someone who fled Melbourne during the lockdowns, I must have missed Australia’s trend towards tipping, which I’m told emerged following the pandemic as a show of appreciation to a battered hospitality sector, especially in Melbourne, which endured multiple lockdowns.

With the pandemic now behind us, this insidious tipping trend needs to be nipped in the bud because, unlike the harmless fun of Halloween or the Black Friday sales, this newest form of American culture creep threatens our national identity.

In the United States waitstaff need tips just to survive, but in Australia, our “fair day’s pay for a fair day’s work” ethos is embodied in a world-leading minimum wage that means employers shouldn’t need to outsource living wages to customers.

The cultural adoption of tipping would also create an uncomfortable, dare I say “oppressor-oppressed” dynamic between customers and staff. It’s a practice of a bygone society, the New York Times calls it a “legacy of slavery”.

Until now, we’ve done well to keep the bad bits of America at our borders. But in Australia tipping must remain the exception, not the rule.

Americans themselves think tipping is increasingly getting out of control. Now tips are being requested before any service even being received, and “opt-out” tipping, where tips are automatically added to bills, shames diners into paying more is already appearing here in Australia.

I was recently prompted for a tip from an online menu I reached via a QR code, without any human interaction. Does this mean I’ll soon be tipping ChatGPT? You may laugh, but tipping self-service machines are actually a thing.

A friend of mine from Los Angeles who recently toured Australia for the first time remarked, “it’s odd to look at the menu and know the price I see written is what I’m paying without having to do the mental arithmetic of adding a tip.” Doesn’t seem radical to me.

My inner financial journalist also wonders whether tip-creep across more and more service industries could make inflation “stickier”. Already eating out is increasingly an indulgence for most, and an expectation of an extra 20 per cent added to a meal would no doubt deter some from eating out altogether.

We’re already slugged weekend surcharges, public holiday surcharges and other hidden fees. With tipping culture comes the additional nuisances of splitting tips, tip-flation (tip bracket creep), tip-flexing (the rich friend showing off) and double-tipping.

Until now, we’ve done well to keep the bad bits of America at our borders and so now, we must do all we can to ensure that in Australia, tipping remains the exception, voluntarily given for standout service, not the default rule.

It’s a slippery slope: one day its tipping, the next it’s the imperial system, branded ambulances and a new class of working poor.

This newest Americanisation tipping culture really tips me off.

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