I witnessed a scene recently that made me uncomfortable, but
it inspired quite a lot of thought. Here’s what happened. I ordered sushi at a
local place and went to pick it up. When I got my order, the girl who handed it
to me called off the items I had ordered. The last item was “tekka-don”, tuna over
rice. I had actually ordered “sake-don”, salmon over rice, and I said so. The
owner, who is also the sushi chef, looked annoyed and started making my order.
The girl apologized, “I’m sorry.” The owners said, “No ‘sorry.’ You pay.” As
in, he was going to make her pay for the wrong order, presumably unless someone
else ordered it in the next hour or so. It seemed really unfair. It was certainly
uncomfortable and cast a pall over the entire restaurant.
So I felt really sorry for this poor girl, who made an
honest mistake. At first I felt bad and thought, geez, I should just pay for
the tekka don. But I remembered specifying over the phone, “Sake-don.
It’s salmon over rice.” The two sound similar over the phone, especially if you
are working in a busy kitchen. That’s why I explained what the item actually
was after saying its name. There’s quite a lot of employee turnover at this place,
and I’ve had to explain my order to a lot of new employees. It wasn’t my fault. The girl really did screw up because she wasn't being very attentive. Still, I thought the owner, not the employee, should eat the cost of the occasional misheard order.
Then I thought about all those stupid “outrage” stories that
show up on my Facebook feed, where some supposed injustice happens over a
trivial infraction. If you dig into these stories, you often find that the
infraction that triggered the outrageous response was just the straw that broke
the camel’s back. In other words, maybe this was the third or fourth wrong
order. Sushi is expensive. Time spent wasted on a $15 menu item is time not
spent making another $15 menu item. That’s lost revenue. This guy is always
moving when I’m there to pick up my order, so wasting his time is a big deal. Plus there is
the cost of the fish that gets wasted. (Economics quiz: Am I double-counting here
to add the lost revenue to the wasted fish?) A sushi chef with employees has to
somehow make sure they are making as few mistakes as possible. Sometimes that
means being very blunt and punitive with employees. They are handling valuable
merchandise, so they need to show appropriate care.
I doubt that he ever charged her anyway. Maybe he said it to
scare her, or maybe he intended to make her pay but thought the better of it. I’m
guessing she got to the end of her shift and just left. He didn’t actually pull
her aside and ring her up. Or maybe he did. Or maybe he actually made some kind
of deduction on her pay stub. But this potentially runs afoul of some sort of
labor law, and maybe he thought the better of creating a paper trail proving he
violated such a law. At any rate, I think someone in his situation can’t just
say, “Oh, that’s okay” when a careless employee costs him $15. He has to make
sure that those correctable errors get corrected, as much as is feasible. She’s
still working there, and she double-checks my order every time now. As unfair
and humiliating as the treatment seemed, she decided to keep her job. Whatever "mistreatment" she had to endure, she apparently decided that the job was worth it.
Is it even legal to charge an employee for a misplaced
order? Should it be? Shouldn’t I, as a libertarian, oppose any such labor laws
restricting this practice? Is there an implied contract between employer and
employee that forbids such a punishment? What is the “common law” that rules
here? If she were to sue over the violation of such an implied contract, how
would that case be adjudicated? And is the existing common law correct? I don’t
know the answers to any of the legal questions, but these were some stray
thoughts that came into my head. If you came here looking for moral clarity, I
don’t have any to offer. But I’m quite certain that my initial reaction of “That’s
completely unfair!” was mistaken. Or at the very least, it was far too simple.
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