The Omotenashi Overkill: Is Japan’s Service Ethic Slowing Down the Checkout?

Shopping for groceries in a Japanese supermarket can be surprisingly time-consuming. No, this is not because of operational issues. Japanese supermarkets are generally structured for convenience, with wide passages through aisles of goods labeled and grouped in categories for easy finding. Rarely do shoppers need to interact with the staff to locate commonly purchased products. The large number of aisles and checkout lanes also ensure that customers can grab what they need to buy and immediately get ready to exit.

For some reason, though, despite the many checkout lanes, the checkout process always bogs down the system. Not for the lack of manpower. In busy times, every checkout till is staffed by someone swiping away at the barcodes, with scarcely any break before taking on the next shopper in line. And all at least seem to be quite adept at what they do. The incoming shopping basket is placed on one side while a different-colored "post-checkout" basket is placed on the other side, denoting that the products inside have been accounted for in the checkout process. Products go from one basket to the other systematically.

A closer look at the checkout process shows where the speed bumper is. Every time the staff manning the till takes one item from the checkout basket, they spend valuable seconds contemplating where in the post-checkout basket the item should go. "Hard" items like tissue boxes, rice, and plastic bottles must go to the bottom, so that "soft" items like fruits, packaged meats in styrofoam, and paper cartons would not be crushed by the extra weight. Given the haphazard nature that regular shoppers put items in their shopping baskets, arranging the items in the post-checkout basket is always like playing a 3D jigsaw puzzle.

The problem is that this jigsaw puzzle-playing is frankly not necessary from the perspective of the shopper. After the checkout basket is handed over to the shopper, the shopper proceeds to the bagging area, where they simply remove all the items in the basket, neatly stacked by the staff at the till to prevent anything from being squashed. The shopper, of course, may not have the patience of the supermarket staff. Many will simply throw groceries at random into their shopping bags. All the work of the staff members, contemplating the relative weights and sizes of the purchased items, goes to naught. 

One might wonder why such meticulous attention to detail is employed by the staff if it appears to be superfluous to the consumer. This reveals a deeper, cultural barrier to entering the service industry in Japan: the expectation of omotenashi or the spirit of selfless hospitality. Omotenashi entails anticipating and addressing a customer's needs before they even recognize those needs themselves. In the context of the supermarket, this implies ensuring that goods are handled with utmost care, even if it appears excessive.  

Getting this idea down requires rigorous training and mentoring. While some may dismiss roles in the service sector as simple or straightforward, in Japan, they often come with a high degree of specialization. Employees, whether they're in supermarkets or hotels, are expected to execute their roles with precision and mastery. A cashier in a supermarket must be more than just efficient; they need to understand the nuances of product placement within a basket to maintain the integrity of purchased items. This often means undergoing extensive onboarding and ongoing training sessions. 

This intensive training, and the societal expectations behind it, could be intimidating to someone unfamiliar with this depth of professional development in seemingly entry-level roles. The societal pressure to provide impeccable service can be mentally taxing. The fear of public criticism or shaming for minor mistakes can act as a deterrent for many to consider roles in the service sector. In a culture where even a small slip-up can lead to harsh online reviews or negative word-of-mouth, the stakes are high. It isn't just about losing a job; it's about the fear of societal judgment and loss of face.

The result of this inefficient focus on providing over-the-top service is demanding hours. The Japanese work ethic, encapsulated in the term "karōshi" or death from overwork, magnifies this issue. Many service jobs in Japan require long shifts, sometimes without breaks, and the expectation is to put in these hours without complaint. This grueling schedule can be a significant deterrent for many who might otherwise be interested in joining the service sector. In essence, the non-monetary barriers, notably the demand for high service quality, play a significantly weighty role in the inefficiency of the Japanese service industry.