As Morrisons supermarkets admits many of its customers hate self-scan tills, Harry Wallop tests the technology against old-fashioned tills, manned by humans.
Harry Wallop grappling with a supermarket self-scan till Photo: Christopher Pledger
I have known many dark days. But possibly
none so dark as last Saturday, when I stood in front of the counter of
my local library, with 46p in my hand to pay my fine for an overdue
book. The librarian told me to pay using the machine -- pointing to a Dr
Who style tardis emitting a green laser beam on the far side of the
Diet and Wellness section.
“But I’ve got the money. And the till is right here,” I said, pointing at the cash register she was resting her hand on.
“It’s easier if you use the machine.”
There followed an awkward standoff.
When the coroner investigates my death -- an ugly episode involving me
repeatedly smashing my head against a customer service desk -- they will
simply record: “the machine won.”
So, Morrisons supermarket shone a ray of blessed sunshine this week when it announced it was installing 1,000
Express tills in its supermarkets - manned tills, with real staff --
for shoppers with 10 items or fewer in their baskets. It was a tacit
admission that millions of weekly customers just do not like self-scan
tills.
• Supermarkets are 'creating the illusion of savings that don’t exist', claims Which?
But, and it is a big but, Morrisons is not actually removing any self-scan tills. The Express lanes are being converted from standard tills. The company said a significant minority actually prefered the speed of using a machine themselves.
It was time to put my prejudices aside and explore which method of paying is actually better. To find out, I went to each of the Big Four supermarkets and bought exactly the same basket of 8 items and timed how long it took to pay for my groceries -- both at a normal till, and at a self-scan one.
At the Express till, freshly opened this week, chaos already reigns because customers are playing fast and loose with the concept of “ten items of less,” as the lane has been labelled. Maybe it is their way of protesting at Morrison’s lax grammar. It takes me 3 minutes and 2 seconds to get to the front of the Express queue. The cashier Silone, however, is a whirl of efficiency and scans my items and processes my debit card in 50 seconds. This, I gone on to discover, is the fastest time of the entire experiment.
Total till time: 3.52
I start my self-scan smoothly enough, until I get to the two loose bagels. There is no category for bagels, only rolls. This sends me into a spiral of guilt -- have I short-changed Morrisons? Why are they not allowing me to honour my Mitteleuropean Ashkenazi roots?
Total self-scan time: 2.48
Machine wins
No Express lanes here, but I strike lucky and get a lane as it is opening. Kimberly, the cashier, if frighteningly on message about self-scan. “I think it’s a great opportunity, with times changing, for technology to help you.” I’ll remind her of that, when she loses her job.
Total till time: 2.23
Again, the two loose bagels cause a meltdown. The bakery section asks me to type in my product alphabetically. “B.A.G” I write. “Unrecognised”, it flashes back.
“What have I done wrong?” I wail at Julz, who has come to help.
She looks at my baked goods askance: “I don’t buy these, so I wouldn’t know. It needs a code.” She gets out her sheet of numbers and casts some spell over the machine. It is a slow process
Total self-scan time: 3.56
Human wins
A 3 minute, 57 second wait to get to the front of the till, though the copy of Sainsbury’s magazine keeps me entertained. I must try that squash, pecan and feta salad. My groceries are scanned in just over a minute, and the assistant wishes me a good weekend. It might be a bit slow, but this is what service is all about.
Total till time: 4.58
Thank heavens for the barcode on my cucumber. Precious seconds are saved. But then a snag -- why are apples not listed on the most common loose items page and almond croissants are? I know Sainsbury’s likes to think itself a notch above, but this is ludicrous.
Total self-scan time: 2.22
Machine wins
A wait to get to the front but, as Helen, who serves me, says: “A lot of people prefer me to serve them than to serve themselves. And some of the older customers particularly like to chat,” she says. Sadly, for some shoppers, a few exchange of pleasantries with a shop assistant will be their only human interaction of the day.
Total till time: 2.50
The battle of man vs machine rests on the Tesco result. And, at first, it proves to be the most intuitive of all the self-scan tills, recognising Pink Lady apples and loose bagels without any hassle. But then, just at the end, there is a tussle over whether I tapped my contactless payment card or not. Or did I double tap? The machine completely freezes, and starts rabbiting: “please scan your club card.” This takes a long time and a patient shop assistant to sort out.
Total self-scan time: 2.55 min
Human wins
And is speed everything? No other country’s GDP is quite so reliant on the service economy, and yet no other seems so hellbent on replacing a natter and a warm smile with soul-sapping screens and digital beeps. And, for that matter, machines that can not cope with loose bagels.
• Supermarkets are 'creating the illusion of savings that don’t exist', claims Which?
But, and it is a big but, Morrisons is not actually removing any self-scan tills. The Express lanes are being converted from standard tills. The company said a significant minority actually prefered the speed of using a machine themselves.
It was time to put my prejudices aside and explore which method of paying is actually better. To find out, I went to each of the Big Four supermarkets and bought exactly the same basket of 8 items and timed how long it took to pay for my groceries -- both at a normal till, and at a self-scan one.
Morrisons
At the Express till, freshly opened this week, chaos already reigns because customers are playing fast and loose with the concept of “ten items of less,” as the lane has been labelled. Maybe it is their way of protesting at Morrison’s lax grammar. It takes me 3 minutes and 2 seconds to get to the front of the Express queue. The cashier Silone, however, is a whirl of efficiency and scans my items and processes my debit card in 50 seconds. This, I gone on to discover, is the fastest time of the entire experiment.
Total till time: 3.52
I start my self-scan smoothly enough, until I get to the two loose bagels. There is no category for bagels, only rolls. This sends me into a spiral of guilt -- have I short-changed Morrisons? Why are they not allowing me to honour my Mitteleuropean Ashkenazi roots?
Total self-scan time: 2.48
Machine wins
Asda
No Express lanes here, but I strike lucky and get a lane as it is opening. Kimberly, the cashier, if frighteningly on message about self-scan. “I think it’s a great opportunity, with times changing, for technology to help you.” I’ll remind her of that, when she loses her job.
Total till time: 2.23
Again, the two loose bagels cause a meltdown. The bakery section asks me to type in my product alphabetically. “B.A.G” I write. “Unrecognised”, it flashes back.
“What have I done wrong?” I wail at Julz, who has come to help.
She looks at my baked goods askance: “I don’t buy these, so I wouldn’t know. It needs a code.” She gets out her sheet of numbers and casts some spell over the machine. It is a slow process
Total self-scan time: 3.56
Human wins
Sainsbury’s
A 3 minute, 57 second wait to get to the front of the till, though the copy of Sainsbury’s magazine keeps me entertained. I must try that squash, pecan and feta salad. My groceries are scanned in just over a minute, and the assistant wishes me a good weekend. It might be a bit slow, but this is what service is all about.
Total till time: 4.58
Thank heavens for the barcode on my cucumber. Precious seconds are saved. But then a snag -- why are apples not listed on the most common loose items page and almond croissants are? I know Sainsbury’s likes to think itself a notch above, but this is ludicrous.
Total self-scan time: 2.22
Machine wins
Tesco
A wait to get to the front but, as Helen, who serves me, says: “A lot of people prefer me to serve them than to serve themselves. And some of the older customers particularly like to chat,” she says. Sadly, for some shoppers, a few exchange of pleasantries with a shop assistant will be their only human interaction of the day.
Total till time: 2.50
The battle of man vs machine rests on the Tesco result. And, at first, it proves to be the most intuitive of all the self-scan tills, recognising Pink Lady apples and loose bagels without any hassle. But then, just at the end, there is a tussle over whether I tapped my contactless payment card or not. Or did I double tap? The machine completely freezes, and starts rabbiting: “please scan your club card.” This takes a long time and a patient shop assistant to sort out.
Total self-scan time: 2.55 min
Human wins
Result
Ok, it was a score draw, but only because in each supermarket there was no queue to enter the self-service sheep pen. The actual process of scanning and paying took longer in all cases.And is speed everything? No other country’s GDP is quite so reliant on the service economy, and yet no other seems so hellbent on replacing a natter and a warm smile with soul-sapping screens and digital beeps. And, for that matter, machines that can not cope with loose bagels.
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