In a time of great division, there is one thing we can all agree on: we’re being asked to tip far too often in far too many places.
It was actually a relief to be in Europe recently and know that even in restaurants transactions would usually be finalized before I even had a chance to contemplate a tip screen. Judging by a 2024 Bankrate survey showing that 25% of people “tend to tip less or not at all when presented with a pre-entered tip screen,” I’m not alone.
To be clear, I’m not opposed to tipping culture, and I’m far more likely to hit 15% than nothing, but I think we’ve lost the script a bit.
The word gratuity has Latin roots meaning thankful and gift, and we’re missing these component ingredients in today’s tipping landscape. Waiting on line to get an iced coffee poured out of a pitcher doesn’t inspire a gift, but someone first giving me the gift of remembering that I like a certain kind of milk over another might.
On this recent trip in the land of no tips, we had two boating experiences, and actually ended up tipping at the end of both. On the first boat, the captain made no plea for anything outside of the agreed upon fee, but he did a lot to make it a great trip including an unplanned dropoff at a spot more convenient for our journey home. That deserved a tip.
On the second boat, the crew did mention they had a tip jar as we returned to the port, and though they probably didn’t expect a big haul, they’d taken good care of us for a couple of hours and gotten us home safely. Again, we threw a couple bills in the box to say thanks.
To me, that’s what should be at the heart of a tip, genuine gratitude. It’s what makes it one of the few honest exchanges we have left. Because even if means there will be a few places or services that begrudgingly pry a dollar or two out of our hands, what I don’t want to happen is that we stop letting people know they’re doing a good job and that we appreciated it. Because that truly is a gift, moreso than any 20%.