To steal or not to steal: supermarket self-serve checkouts

Fabian Robertson opines.

Indiana Jones demonstrating the ‘old switcheroo’, circa 1936.

Indiana Jones demonstrating the ‘old switcheroo’, circa 1936.

There’s this widespread perception that stealing is inherently wrong: that to steal is to transgress ethical boundaries.

Perhaps it’s from the Bible and Christianity’s fairly pervasive influence on Western morals. ‘Thou shalt not steal’ says the 7th of the 10 Commandments. But the Bible also forbids same sex relations, pre-marital sex, working on a Sunday and eating shellfish. So maybe it’s time to discard the old book as a guide to ethics. Regardless, religious moralising could never have adequately prepared us for the most tempting modern-day stealing opportunity there is: the self-serve checkouts at Woolworths and Coles.

Ever since the duopolistic supermarket giants replaced their pesky human checkout workers, the self-serve machines have represented an irresistible opportunity for law-abiding citizens, thieving enthusiasts and hardened criminals alike. For many, the supermarket self-serve section is an absolute goldmine where the only limits are your imagination and what you can fit in your oversized pockets.  

Such is the allure of these contemporary treasure troves that next to no one is impervious to their magnetic draw. On my own shopping adventures, I have witnessed men, women and children expertly and surreptitiously help themselves to free packets of Extra Sugar Free Gum or swipe pricey Hass Avocados through as budget-friendly onions: a classic stealing technique known as the ‘old switcheroo’.

In the few years that I have associated with like-minded swindlers, I have been regaled with tales of enormous grandeur that romanticise the exploits of brave citizens serving themselves and their wallets at supermarket machines. One thief, who will remain nameless, swears that they lifted two whole free-range chickens in a single steal. Another claims they haven’t paid for a $1.90 tub of thickened cream for nearly 3 years. Although it remains unverified, legend also speaks of a heist in which a lone thief consumed an entire bakery-section mud cake while walking around their local Woolies, only to walk out the store via the self-serve checkout with the cylindrical packaging disguised expertly as a hat.

But these feats have not been met without resistance. Certain supermarket locations have begun hiring security guards and, more recently, the installation of mirroring cameras has acted as a further deterrence. Perhaps even more worrying is the rumoured threat of undercover investigators, who supposedly roam the aisles in search of light-fingered consumers.

Such attempts to stem the flow of thievery have been ultimately unsuccessful. Most security guards don’t get paid to care enough about the casual supermarket thief, while the existence of undercover investigators is no doubt a myth drummed up by Coles and Woolworths propaganda departments. And the only people to be sufficiently deterred by a mirroring camera are those who cannot face the reality of what they have become: a thief.

It would be both irresponsible and illegal of me to recommend that anyone steals from Woolworths and Coles: getting caught can have serious criminal consequences. And, admittedly, applying most ethical tests to this sort of behaviour would prove wholly unsatisfactory for those of us with a conscience. So, if you’re chasing the thrill of the steal and are tempted by the self-serve machines at Woolworths at Coles, perhaps you’d be better off as a distant observer, living vicariously through the exploits of those audacious few who risk everything in pursuit of slightly cheaper avocados. Godspeed to them.

Pulp Editors