It’s a common problem. You’ve ordered dinner at the local pub via QR code and are prompted to tip. Needless to say, the default setting is at the highest amount. 

I am not alone in feeling incensed by this. and I don’t think it’s just because we are all just getting old and grumpy. Firstly, if you do tip, the idea is usually to reward good service. This, therefore, can’t be assessed, or charged, before the meal. In fact, the meal we ordered arrived in dribs and drabs (as it so often does with QR orders) which is the antithesis of good service. Secondly, the absence of personal interaction removes all but the most basic services. How can a server go ‘above and beyond’ in this situation? 

Still, that’s better than ‘tipping surveillance’, where customers feel pressured to tip by the presence of a hovering server when the eftpos machine comes out. The card machine also presents another suite of challenges, such as suggested percentages for tips that can range from five percent up to hopeful 25 percent. Or you have to manually type in $0.00 when not tipping. It’s almost like the eftpos machine is trying to make you feel like you’re insulting the floor staff. 

Embarrassment is a powerful motivator when it comes to tipping. Some of us are our own worst enemy here, as we feel guilty or embarrassed about something that is totally in our purview to control. The cost-of-living crisis has only heightened this. Interestingly, the Australian Tipping Report released at the start of the year by financial services company Zeller (through analysing tipping data on their eftpos terminals) found that the average Australian tip actually rose 25 percent over 2023. 

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The big question: where does the money go? 

Transparency is important when tipping in a restaurant and this is all too often sadly missing. Is the tip going to the front of house or the team member who served you, or is it split across the front and back, including the kitchen? Many of us have noticed an increase in ‘optional service charges’ being added to bills – such charges legally need to be noted, but I’m still not a fan of this, because how many customers are willing to create a scene by asking for it to be removed? And again, I want to know who it is going to. 

In Australia, there are no laws that dictate where tips should be distributed, so legally, a tip doesn’t have to go to staff. The ATO tells us that a “tip is purely voluntary and is intended for the restaurant employees that provided the service”. But sadly, if this money doesn’t get to staff, there is very little they can do about it. Tipping and service are not covered by the Restaurant Industry Award, and as such, should ideally be addressed in individual employment contracts. If there are any smart lawyers out there who can refute this, I’d love to hear from them at @mattscravat. 

Why tip at all? 

The argument that restaurant staff rely on tips to survive has less credence now that Fair Work is cracking down on venue owners who aren’t fulfilling their statutory obligations, and lower-paid workers are at least partially covered by minimum wage legislation and rules covering weekend and public holiday payments. The line that we don’t need to tip because hospitality staff are paid properly has more veracity than when it was trotted out a decade ago. We have one of the world’s highest minimum wages.

Another key question is why restaurant staff deserve a tip when many low-paid workers like nurses, childcare or aged-care workers, and supermarket workers never have that opportunity. They too can go above and beyond for us. The most they might receive is a smile, or a paltry gift like bath salts, a tin of biscuits or a bottle of grog at Christmas.

I do feel it’s weird that we don’t tip nurses, childcare workers and teachers, but I’ve yet to work out how we can address this without it becoming another rort for the government or dodgy private operators. 

So who should get a tip? 

I’d suggest that tips are  best directed to those in lower-paying jobs, and in jobs not covered by minimum wage requirements, such as food delivery drivers. But with no cash in our pockets and pre-payment or online payment so mainstream, tipping has become far less easy. The death of cash has seen tipping take a blow in the hotel industry, too, and it also makes begging an even more precarious occupation. 

Why don’t Australians tip? 

I often wonder whether tipping isn’t embraced in Australia because historically,  it was often used as a way of expressing superior social status in the UK, Europe and US. This is one of the reasons that tipping was made illegal in six US states for the first quarter of the 20th century (in part because freed slaves were being expected to work for tips rather than pay, and Americans also saw tipping as undemocratic and classist). 

All this makes tipping a very un-Australian thing to do in a country where many seek to see everyone as equal, no matter their job. The Charities Aid Foundation World Giving Index 2024 report ranked us as the eighth most generous country in the world last year, so this could support the theory that not tipping is a matter of politics, not meanness.

Do I tip?

I tip because I feel I should give back to the industry that I cover and that, in part, I earn my living from covering. I tip because I have kids that work in hospitality, so I empathise. And, in part, I tip because I suspect I’d look like a dick if I didn’t. But I won’t tip if the service is poor, and I won’t tip if service hasn’t been given. 

I believe that tipping shouldn’t be automatic, but should be given to reflect service that is warm, engaged, excellent or exceptional.

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