Customer Entitlement

Another societal critique?! Yes, I realize I’m on a bit of a trend here. We all have phases. Let me have this.

I once read a news story about a grocery shopper in New Jersey, who, frustrated that the store no longer provided free, disposable plastic bags, saw fit to steal the grocery cart, so that they had something with which to carry their groceries home.

It got me thinking: why did this person feel entitled to a method by which to carry their stuff? So entitled, that it led them to burglarize an important item the store entrusts its patrons to return. I understand the mild frustration at the sudden change in store policy, but I don’t understand the degree of the customer’s response. My view is that if it’s your groceries, you figure out a way to carry them. That’s your burden to bear, not the store’s. The bags were merely a convenience the store managers provided to you, not something they owed you. If someone on Craigslist sold you a few books or old records, would you steal a tote bag on your way out of their apartment? Probably not. Because, deep down, you recognize that in a mercantile transaction, you’re not necessarily entitled to a carrying method beyond your own arms. The same goes for grocery stores. Just because stores have historically doled out free, ocean-bound plastic bags doesn’t mean you’re entitled to them.

A similar thing happens with trash. In the absence of conveniently-placed public trash cans, many people feel it’s fine to drop garbage on the ground. Even though they are responsible for the empty Cheetos bag, they feel they should just toss it into the bushes if they tire of carrying their own trash.

Story time: in 1995, a cult group in Japan released sarin, a toxic gas, into the Tokyo metro network. 13 people died, and one of the repercussions was that the city decided to remove public trash cans (this was done to reduce the likelihood of another terrorist act wherein the perpetrators could easily hide such a substance). Initially, there were concerns that with this change, littering would become an issue, but it didn’t. That brings me to the point: instead of feeling entitled to trash cans on every corner, the citizens of Japan have taken on a more community-minded approach. They hold onto their trash until they get home, or to a place they can properly dispose of it. They hold it in their pockets, purses, or palms and throw it in the can when they’re home from the outing. Even smokers carry personal ashtrays, rather than dirty the ground with their cig butts. No, I don’t mean to say that the tax dollars we pay that go toward things like public trash cans and facilities upkeep should be forgotten. I simply mean that in the absence of convenience, don’t abandon a sense of personal responsibility.

It seems a bit childish that much of the world, by comparison, thinks they can drop trash, and someone else will resolve the issue for them, like a toddler smearing spaghetti everywhere, whose parents come in behind them to wipe everything clean. Only in this case, the litter problem is so bad that we’re struggling to wipe it clean. A 2020 study done by nonprofit group Keep America Beautiful concluded that in the US, there were nearly 50 billions pieces of litter, and that’s just along our roadways and waterways. If you do the math (which they did), that’s about 152 pieces of litter per person.

Obviously, this doesn’t mean you’re personally responsible for 152 Chick-Fil-A cups along your nearest highway. I point that out to bring it down to the personal level, to the numbers we can actually conceptualize. It often feels like the things we do are but a raindrop in a river, a sand grain in the Sahara, a single spray of Febreze in the fraternity band room the night after a party. But if we take care of that personal number, we can each make our own little dent. Each time you choose to hold onto a piece of trash, you’re preventing that 152 number from increasing. Each time you pick up a piece of trash, you’re sending the number down.

It’s important to remember that these resources and facilities of modern society I’ve spoken on aren’t for personal convenience. They’re for the collective convenience. That may sound like nonsense, so I’ll elaborate. When you steal a shopping cart as your personal grocery transport, it detracts from the rest of the community’s ability to use the cart as intended. When you throw trash on the ground at the park, it diminishes a little bit of the beauty of the space, robbing others of the experience you got to have before you ditched the greasy paper that once held your Crunchwrap Supreme.

On things that fall in the scope of personal responsibility, don’t tell the world to do them for you. Bring your own bag. Carry your own trash.

I used “you” a lot in this article. I am sure that you, dear reader, don’t make littering or stealing shopping carts a habit. I’m using the second-person tense (yes, that’s a thing) to try to best get my point across. No accusations intended.

With that disclaimer covered, I can finally crunchwrap this thing up. Have a great week.

-John