Self-checkouts were introduced as a multi-purpose solution to labour shortages, rising wage pressures, and consumers’ appetite for speed. In theory, they would modernize the grocery experience while reducing operating costs. In practice, they have become a source of irritation for many Canadians — and a growing liability for retailers.
Our recent survey shows that more than 60% of Canadians choose self-checkout when purchasing fewer than 20 items, especially Millennials and Gen X consumers. Boomers, however, remain resistant; many avoid self-checkout entirely. This behavioural split matters, because it illustrates a broader truth: technology adoption is not merely about efficiency, but about trust.
What was meant to streamline the transaction has, paradoxically, produced friction. The now-ubiquitous “wait for assistance” message has become a symbol of failure in the grocery aisle. And beyond frustration, a more worrisome trend is emerging: self-checkouts appear to be driving up theft, both accidental and intentional.
A recent LendingTree survey found that 36% of consumers admitted to unintentionally leaving with an unscanned item. Of those, 61% kept the item rather than returning to pay for it. These are not hardened shoplifters; most entered the store with every intention of paying. But embarrassment, time pressure, or the simple inability to get help turned a technological hiccup into retail loss. Fewer than 15% reported deliberately exploiting self-checkouts to steal, but the outcome is the same: shrinkage that retailers ultimately recoup through higher prices for everyone else.
The economics are now forcing a recalibration. Some grocers are scaling back their self-checkout footprint; others are reopening staffed lanes. After years of automation hype, we are witnessing a partial return to human cashiers — not out of nostalgia, but out of necessity. When shrinkage overtakes labour savings, the business case for automation collapses.
What is perhaps most striking is how little innovation grocers have introduced to improve the checkout experience. Given advances in artificial intelligence, computer vision, and sensor technology, the sector should be much closer to a truly frictionless exit process. An effective model already exists. Decathlon, the French sporting-goods retailer, tags nearly all merchandise with RFID technology. Customers simply drop their items into a black bin, and the system calculates the total instantly. No barcode hunting. No rescans. No “unexpected item in the bagging area.”
If a high-volume sporting-goods chain can implement such a system, one would expect food retailers — who operate on tighter margins but process exponentially more transactions — to explore similar solutions. But innovation requires capital, and grocery operates on margins that leave little room for experimentation. That financial reality partly explains why checkout technology has stagnated.
A deeper tension also exists. Over the past decade, grocers have shifted a substantial portion of labour onto consumers without offering any incentive for doing that work. The comparison with gas stations is instructive. When Canadians began pumping their own fuel, they received a clear benefit: lower prices at self-serve pumps. In grocery, no such trade-off exists. Food prices have risen more than 27% over the past five years. Consumers are expected to scan, bag, troubleshoot errors, and manage technical glitches — all while paying more.
If retailers expect consumers to perform tasks once handled by paid employees, the logical step is to reward them. Discounts, loyalty points, or dedicated “self-serve savings” lanes would acknowledge the value of the labour consumers now provide.
Self-checkouts are not going away. But the current model is unsustainable. The challenge for grocers is not merely reducing theft; it is rebuilding trust in the transaction itself. Retailers that treat checkout as a core part of the consumer experience — not just a cost-cutting device — will be better positioned in the long run.
Until then, shoppers will continue to ask a very basic economic question: If I am doing more of the work, why am I paying more for the privilege?
I often only purchase a few items at grocery stores at a time and usually opt for the self checkout. Some things that drive me crazy is waiting for others fumble with PLU codes or full carts at Costco. I wouldn’t mind a system like a mobile scan and go sort of solution or a standardization of a self-checkout’s UX.
The problem isn’t self-checkouts per se. It’s that many retailers completely misunderstand how they are to be used. They are NOT to be left unattended in the interests of “saving labour.” They need an attendant at all times. Retailers like Safeway and Shoppers Drug Mart are notorious for assuming self-checkouts can run themselves and don’t need an attendant anywhere nearby (Safeway allows self-checkout attendants to do double duty as cashiers on regular lanes and/or staff the customer service desk. This means that when a customer at self-checkout needs help, there is no one available anywhere around.)
The core issue isn’t that customers don’t know how to use them properly. It’s that there are many instances where attendant involvement is required. If the customer has a coupon, that needs to be verified by a staff member before the transaction can proceed. If an item doesn’t scan or the price is incorrect, that also requires human intervention. If a customer has a reduced price perishable item, that also requires an attendant to intervene. When there is no attendant nearby, this brings the transaction (and the lineup of customers waiting to use the machines) to a grinding halt and completely defeats the purpose of having the machines.
This article hits on the core tension in modern retail: the push for efficiency versus the need for human connection and security. The conclusion that “hybrid is the future” feels inevitable, but the real question is what kind of hybrid model will win.
The failure isn’t just about theft or customer preference—it’s about a broken value proposition. Self-checkout was sold as a “convenience,” but for many, it became unpaid labor with no discount, coupled with the anxiety of malfunctioning scales and receipt checks. When you add the loss of casual social interaction and the expert help a good cashier can provide (finding a code, suggesting a pairing), the trade-off starts to look poor.
The successful hybrid model will likely be one that uses technology to augment staff, not replace them. Imagine associates with mobile scanners who can check you out anywhere in the store, or self-checkout kiosks that seamlessly summon help with one button. The goal should be fluidity: letting those who want speed blaze through, while offering dignified, helpful service to those who want or need it.
Ultimately, this experiment shows that retail isn’t just a logistics puzzle; it’s a social contract. Stores that figure out how to balance tech efficiency with human trust will be the ones that thrive.
Speaking as a consumer, if a retailer (especially an expensive one like Loblaws) chooses to take advantage of me by offloading their labour costs onto my shoulders then I feel justified in taking advantage of the retailer whenever an opportunity arises (e.g., ‘forgetting’ to scan a lightweight item. Fair is fair.