Intimidation in Retail: The Case of San Francisco

Visuals are an important ingredient in consumer marketing, so it is surprising to come across retail managers who are so purblind as concerns the latent yet obvious passive aggression in some of the visuals that those managers themselves approve in the name of security. The espoused, yet utterly fake claim that customer experience is improved by the added sense of safety—the actual underlying motive lies in loss prevention—is typically outweighed by the very human negative experience from being intentionally intimidated by passive-aggressive visuals. It may be that such managers, frustrated by high rates of in-store petty theft (i.e., “shoplifting”), are unconsciously taking their latent aggression out of the customers as a group. Even if not, the lack of judgment is palpable from the visuals themselves. It is no wonder that an increasing number of customers prefer shopping online. 

The full essay is at "Retail Intimidation ."

Deflating Bloated Self-Entitlement in Retail: Barnes and Noble at Yale

Atrocious human-resources management, even regarding in-store employees of a sub-contractor, can easily be understood to detract from repeat customers; a refusal to hold such employees accountable can be a reflection of a sordid managerial attitude towards customers, especially in relation to employees. In cases in which the refusal is explicitly stated to an already-offended customer, the slogan, “adds insult to injury” is applicable, with disastrous effects in terms of repeat business, and thus revenue. That management is in some cases so bad reflects on the primitive condition of the “science” of management in business schools. That a case in point occurred in Yale’s (Barnes and Noble) bookstore, not far from Yale’s School of Management, suggests the sheer distance between the “science” and practice of management.

The full essay is at "Bloated Self-Entitlement in Retail."

Hypocritical CSR during a Pandemic: O’Reilly Automotive, Inc.

In the retail sector, the behavior of managers and their employees at the store level is particularly relevant to customers. This relevance, I submit, outweighs the wider benefit of a company’s corporate social responsibility (CSR) program if the behavior contradicts either the CSR wording or actual programs. Besides the obvious bad odor of hypocrisy that vitiates CSR claims, a company’s direct effects on its customers (and employees) have implications in terms of responsibility. I submit that these implications are more important than those of CSR programs that are geared to societal problems because they are less central to a business. In short, having a CSR program does not make up for irresponsible policies or conduct toward customers (and employees). O’Reilly’s Automotive serves as a good illustration.
The company’s second CSR goal in 2018 was to enhance “the health and wellbeing of communities engaging with” the company.”[1] The company claimed that CSR is “embedded in” its business philosophy such that the operations are not to “become an obstacle or a burden in the way of people’s and the environment’s wellbeing.”[2] Regarding health, the company’s CSR program consisted of providing “nutritional boosting” by producing and distributing health and hygiene products to “enhance the wellbeing of its customers along with the various communities” with which the company has engaged.[3] To the extent that such products are sold to customers, the CSR program is more like an additional product line than from any sense of responsibility to help reduce societal ills. In other words, the health CSR program was rather self-serving.

In spite of the signage, two out of the three customers in the store were not wearing masks or maintaining physical distance from other people. No employee confronted the two customers. 

In just two years, the company’s store-level operations had negligently become an obstacle or hindrance to the health of employees and customers even as the company continued to tout its CSR health goal. Even though stores had signs indicating that masks were required due to the coronavirus pandemic, managers and/or employees in at least one store were refusing to enforce that policy when customers came in without wearing masks. Such customers could even ignore the barriers keeping customers at a distance from the check-out counter. One employee told me that some customers were even mistaking the barriers as an invitation to go behind the counter! I was just as astonished, however, at the employees’ impotence when it came to enforcing the mask requirement.
Perhaps just as the company’s CSR program was self-serving (i.e., selling an unrelated product line), so too was the company’s overriding dictum that the company’s mask policy should not be permitted to get in the way of customers buying products. That is, I suspect that the implicit priority was on the value of marginal revenue over the health of customers and employees. This business calculus may not be surprising, yet the refusal to enforce a salient (by signage) company policy is. To claim that a requirement that is not to be enforced is nonetheless a requirement involves not only cognitive problems, but also sheer weakness. Management includes both making policies and enforcing them. The decision not to enforce one, such as in telling employees not to accost customers who feel entitled to ignore the signage of a requirement, can thus be regarded as ineffectual management even if the goal is to maximize revenue.

[1] Matthew Harvey, “Corporate Social Responsibility of O Reilly Automotive, Inc.,” Essay 48 October 17, 2018 (accessed November 18, 2020).

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

Authentic Corporate Social Responsibility during a Pandemic

"We’re doing a lot of social distancing,” U.S. President Trump claimed during his press conference on Coronavirus on March 23, 2020. The day before, he had said he is proud of the American people for voluntarily taking precautions. March 21st, I had been in a Target store to buy some necessary items. No one was "social distancing," including employees. A more accurate, and better understood term would be physical distancing, as it is more broadly applicable than socializing and the latter can be done at a distance, especially via telephone and the internet.[1] A day before, I had been in two grocery stores—two because one—a Safeway [Albertsons]—was missing so many hoarded items. I found no physical distancing at Safeway and Sprouts. The former was not that safe after all, and the latter's healthy-food was not being sold in a healthy way. It was as if the employees, customers, and managements were oblivious to the obvious risks, but the explanation may be more complex. I contend that it applies to corporate social responsibility too, for I also found that none of the store managers was making announcements or had signage to remind people to keep a distance from other people in the respective stores. On March 26, 2020, I again saw no physical distancing by employees and customers at a Safeway store; the store manager told me he would have a store meeting on the issue. In the meantime, not even periodic announcements would be made. This is known as erroneously applying status-quo management procedures in a state of emergency. Also, Safeway's store management had not acted proactively to ration products such as toilet paper and cleaning products that had been voraciously grabbed off the shelves by herd-exuberant customers in a panic mode. In short, I submit that the unique business conditions of the Coronavirus pandemic can be used to assess whether corporate social responsibility is real or merely a marketing tool.

(This is not the Safeway store where I found the deliquencies.) 

I begin with the matters of relinquishing old habits and starting new ones, for both are important to being proactive both at the individual and store levels during a pandemic. Plato’s dictum, to know the good is to do the good, relies on the human proclivity to create and maintain habits. In other words, habitually doing the good, which presupposes knowing what the good is, plays a vital role in doing the good. It gets easier once a good habit has been established and practiced. We are indeed very habitual animals. We tend to take the same route to work, sit in the same seat where seating is open, and even eat the same foods at breakfast as if in a rut. So Plato’s emphasis on habit is wise. If staying at home and keeping at a physical distance from other people are good habits during a pandemic, then the emphasis should be on establishing these habits and attending to them until the new habits become easy, even automatic. Unfortunately, this is easier said than done.

A good habit faces two hurdles. Firstly, contravening habits must be resisted. When the Coronavirus just getting started in the U.S., I literally had to pull back my arm so I would not shake someone’s hand. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to shake hands now,” I told the other person, who was stunned. My habit of shaking hands had become so ingrained in my mind that it sent my left arm out even though I had decided not to shake hands. Pulling my arm back felt so unnatural that actually doing it felt difficult, as if I were fighting against horizontal gravity; it was as if I had to drag my arm back.

Furthermore, that the other person was stunned even though he knew the reason was reasonable stunned me. Why the apparent affront in the face of a pandemic already present locally? I suspect that the man’s reasoning was not controlling his passions (emotions). In The Republic, Plato writes that such a psyche is unjust. So too, by the way, is the polis (i.e., a political geographical area) that has passions unrestrained or checked by reason via individuals or a government. A government has a responsibility, for example, to see that the passions that would otherwise thwart reason’s conclusions do not. So, many governments were urging or ordering people to stay at home (i.e., self-quarantine) and maintain physical distance in public during the Coronavirus pandemic. That government, acting justly, had to contend with preexisting habits such as shaking hands and walking or standing at a close distance to other people. From the standpoint of those habits, the government’s position may have seemed unjust, perhaps as invasive or overreactions. In short, ongoing habits die hard.

The second hurdle that a good habit must overcome to be sustained is the person going beyond the decisions and actually engage the new behaviors enough such that they stick. It is one thing to decide to do something different, and quite another thing to change behavior. This goes beyond stopping previous habits, such as shaking hands and standing close to other people; new behaviors must be done enough to gain traction. Simply having made the decision to change is not enough. Yet implementing a new choice is difficult because the conduct is not aided by the force of habit until the conduct is done enough times to become habitual. Hence Plato’s dictum that doing something good enough for it to become a habit is important. This applies to corporate social responsibility at the managerial level (especially at the store level).

In the grocery stores (and the Target store) that I went to when it was reasonable to assume that most Arizonans would be aware of the need to keep a certain distance from others, I found that few if any people were engaged in the practice. Even if they had made the decisions to engage in the practice, which was in line with the core human motive of self-preservation, they had not resisted old, antithetical practices and put the new behaviors into practice enough for them to become habitual, and thus easier.

Rationally, a human being would tend to be motivated based on self-preservation to form new conducive habits. In other words, a law should not be necessary. Perhaps the force of old habits is powerful enough to eclipse even the motive for self-preservation, or maybe the problem lies in too many people not making even rather obvious connections between, say, staying at a distance and not catching the virus. Arizona was at the time 49th out of the 50 American States in primary and secondary education (i.e., before college). 

Corporate social responsibility could have bridged the gap, such as by a store manager making regular announcements that everyone in the store should maintain a certain physical distance from everyone else. I suggested this to the store manager on duty at Sprouts grocery store as I was leaving, but he demurred even though the chain was touting its social responsibility in providing healthy produce to customers. He looked at me as though I were from France. C'est drole, n-est-pas? 

Perhaps that manager feared that some customers in the store would overreact out of fear and immediately leave the store, beginning an unprofitable stampede. The bad education system locally may also have been a factor, for he presumably could have made the announcement in a calming, friendly way. "Hey, thanks for shopping with us today. Just a reminder that the government recommends that we all keep a distance of at least ... from each other. Nothing to worry about; just a precaution." The informal, friendly tone, the use of "government" rather than "public health agencies," the use of "recommends" rather than "orders," the "nothing to worry about," and the sense that the manager and employees were included would likely have been sufficient to stifle any herd-animal stampede, even in Arizona. However, at the end of March, 2020, while I was in a Target store, a simple, "Please keep a distance of six feet between you and others" announcement played every half-hour and did not trigger any stampedes. Even then, neither Sprouts nor Safeway were making announcements in their respective stores even though from my visits I could see a lot of non-distancing, even by employees. 

Perhaps the manager at the Sprouts store was so ingrained in old thinking habits that my suggestion did not even register such that he did not even make a decision. Both hurdles to beginning a new habit (i.e., making the announcement periodically) may have been too high for the man, yet it is curious that the company did not have a policy of making announcements as of the end of March.

Similarly, the manager of the Safeway store was in a meeting-rut when on March 26th he told me he would have to have a store meeting in the future rather than make announcement to employees and customers alike to please keep a distance of 6 feet/1.8 meters in keeping with the government's recommendation of distancing. Ironically, when his employee charged with sanatizing the shelves had walked very close to me and I reminded him of the distancing, his response was essentially to blame me. "Just relax," he said twice (he was obviously not). Interestingly, although the cashiers had a new protective clear-plastic sheet separating them from customers, at least one young cashier couldn't hear the customers because of the screen so she would lean sideways to speak at close range without any barrier face to face at close range. More than one office meeting would be needed at that store.

On a positive note, Sprouts's shelves were well stocked, whereas Safeway's were not. Safeway's managers may have been in too much of a mental and behavioral rut to catch the drasically increasing sales figures on items like toilet paper and ration them. Of course, the resistance to rationing may have been from the profit-motive, in which case we could conclude that the company's CSR programs paled in comparison to authentic corporate social responsibility within the business (i.e., closer to the core business functioning, or operative business model). Safeway managers may have discounted the point that rationing may even have an overall good financial effect as fewer customers face empty shelves and thus a bad experience.

I do contend that the store managements had a social responsibility to see that their employees and customers were as safe as possible from catching the illness while in the stores. It cannot be said that the managements were pro-active; even their reactivity was laggard or incomplete. Besides making simple announcements on distancing especially at the cashier area, responsibility extended to picking up on, and acting upon, abrupt trends in product sales in enough time to ration items even if rationing is not in the short-term financial interest of the companies. The companies' respective charters undoubtedly give those companies the right to make food available to paying customers. With that right comes a responsibility that becomes particularly active not only when too many customers and employees are not keeping a distance, but also when some customers are hoarding a product to such an extent that the stores cannot provide that product to other customers in a reasonable period of time. Rather than pointing here to CSR programs whereby a company sponsors a baseball team or food bank, I am referring to authentic social responsibility, which lies in managers and employees taking responsibility in the conduct of business, directly with people rather than through an institutional program. In other words, the authentic sort tends to a bottom-up phenomenon, at least at first, though proactive companies can issue companywide policies that are consistent with the measures taken in some stores in a timely manner. I contend this sort of responsibility is most likely to be enacted in strong companies, whereas the weak are too focused on entrails—too easily held back by preexisting choices and habits to venture new choices and implement new policies. Perhaps this case study comes down to this: Why in the world would a store manager NOT make a store announcement after a customer recommends doing so because people, including employees, are not keeping a distance to each other? It is reasonable to expect that the manager would not only make an announcement, but also call his superior other store managers can do likewise. Perhaps the rare situation of a pandemic reveals that the typical mentality in retail management is excessively rigid, even if being so is not really being cautious after all, but impedes caution being actualized at the store level. 

1. "It is important for us all to realize that when they recommend 'social distancing' . . . what health experts are really promoting are practices that temporarily increase our physical distance from one another in order to slow the spread of the virus." Cecilia Menjivar, Jacob Foster, and Jennie Brand, "Don't call it 'social distancing'," CNN.com, March 21, 2020 (accessed April 4, 2020). 

Goodwill Dismisses a Solid Societal Norm: A Mentality beyond Unethical Conduct

When managers of a business or non-profit interact with a societal norm by openly rejecting any obligation to act in accord with the norm, the reaction from stakeholders can be utter disbelief. The refusal to act in accordance with the norm as it impacts the organization can be beyond bad management and even unethical conduct. The refusal to acknowledge a societal norm even as its impact on the business and stakeholders has been arranged by the business is beyond, though it can include, unethical conduct. Norms are not in themselves ethical, for as David Hume wrote, you can’t get an ought from an is; rational justification by ethical principles must be added before we can get to, “You ought to do X” from “X is the practice.” Yet ethical principles can be in norms, in which case we can say, “You ought to act in accordance with the norm because it is ethical.” In some cases, the norm-business relationship (i.e., Business and Society) can be more salient than an ethical principle in the norm itself. A managerial practice at Goodwill, a non-profit retailer based on donations for the poor, serves as a case in point.

Goodwill stores have tags of several colors on the merchandise. During yellow tag week, merchandise with a yellow tag is half off. Every other Saturday, all of the colors are half off. By the time the doors open, customers have likely formed a long line out in front. Such lines can cover most of the front length of a store. On one such morning at one store, I saw a customer stand by the front doors opposite of the line just five minutes before the opening. I saw the store manager let that customer in second, even though it was obvious that she was not in line. Curious, I entered the store to interview that manager. He told me that his responsibility is only to open the doors, not to determine that some people can come in and others cannot. His lapse would have been easily fixed not by telling the woman, who did not evidently think that store lines applied to her, that she could not enter the store, but, rather, that she would have to go to the back of the line. I asked the manager whether he believed that the line did not pertain to his store. “It is not on our property,” he answered. “We can’t say what people can do out there.” Observing my facial expression, he said he would make sure that customers come in first who are in line, and he even made an announcement lightly chastising “the individuals” who had not waited in line.

Nevertheless, later the same day, I returned to the store to interview two of the associate store managers, both of whom also touted the property point. “So if I come here just before 9am in two weeks, I don’t have to stand in line; I could go second or third?” I asked. “Yes,” one of the associate managers said, even as her hesitation in answering came, I suspect, from a recognition that her answer violates the ethical principle of fairness. This recognition should have given her the sense that something was wrong with the policy she was supporting.

Even though the violation of justice as fairness—it is just that people enter a building in order hence via making a line—is salient in this case, the fact that managers of a store disassociated it from the line to get into the store, hence pertaining directly to the store, is even more bizarre and thus significant. The societal norm here is that customers forming a line outside a store before doors open are to be let in first. For a manager to open a store door and assume that the norm does not apply to his store, and thus does not form an obligation on his part to see that the customers in line go in first, removes him, in effect, from the society or environment in which the store functions.

Even the narrow property-limits rationale is bizarre, for Goodwill leased rather than bought the land and building, and the line of customers pertained to the store even though it did not extend to the sidewalk in front between the building and the parking lot. That the line pertained exclusively to getting into the store overrides the question of property in terms of the incurrence of an obligation because the customers in line had the societal expectation of being able to enter the store in order whether or not the sidewalk was owned by Goodwill. The managers with whom I spoke dismissed the customer’s expectation, whose legitimacy is societal (a societal norm) rather than company-based. The sheer dismissiveness is rude, not to mention bad customer service. Even though the ethical principle of fairness is in the societal norm, the bad attitude toward the customers, the lazy approach to opening the store’s front door, and the decision that the societal norm does not apply to that store are not necessarily unethical (or at least an ethical argument would need to be made).

Narrow self-interest, which business managers tend to adopt, is not in itself unethical. For one thing, the business and financial systems have infrastructures and norms that virtually necessitate it at the firm level. Even so, if stakeholders (or others) are harmed as a consequence, then the narrowness is culpable ethically. In this case study, the harm to the customers in line from one person entering second from opposite the line is small. Few of the customers in line could even see the interloper, and none of the customers—in line or afterward—would have guessed that the store manager’s initial position (and those of two of his associate managers) regarding the store’s responsibility to let the people in line in first.

In fact, that the associate manager who answered affirmatively that I would not need to stand in line (because Goodwill is only concerned, by right, with what goes on inside the stores) had come to such a nonsensical conclusion (and stood behind it) is not in itself unethical. She was not lying, for instance; she really believed herself. Moreover, that a person could believe anything so nonsensical (including the property argument) is also not unethical. Perhaps in the field of business and society, psychology figures in more than does even ethics. Of course, the norms-based field of business and society is (or ought to be!) distinct from business ethics even though the two relate, such as in there being an ethical principle (e.g., fairness) in a societal norm that is not in itself ethical because it merely is.

When Retail Marketing Goes Too Far

Marketing by retailers can go too far; this claim should be no surprise. That this has been so even when the marketing comes at the expense of existing customers may be less well-known and thus be in need of some elaboration. The underlying culprit, I submit, is psychological: difficulty with keeping within even societal and even self-imposed constraints. Put simply, the difficulty is with limits. The mentality is thus at the child-stage of development.

Service to the customer is a business mantra. In fact, an increasing number of retailers refer to their respective customers as guests. Target was among the first to do so. Then restaurants followed and even some of the services. One hair salon in Scottsdale, Arizona, even has guest parking, but the signs are technically lies; the slots are actually for customers, who have been conveniently renamed guests. It might be concluded that American business has been trying to outdo itself in how the customer is treated.

Some indications, however, suggest that existing customers may have been increasingly overlooked, at least as of 2019, in favor of gaining additional customers. In some fast-food restaurants in the U.S., for example, promotional signs on the large windows adjacent to the tables obstructed the ability of sitting customers to look outside the building. After spending money for a meal, who wants to look at giant promotions geared to prospective customers approaching or passing by the restaurant?

On an increasing number of city buses, advertisements covering the side windows made it more difficult for existing customers to see outside the bus, whether to enjoy the ride or determine where to get off the bus. In effect, all this says to the existing customers: the people outside are more important than you so regrettably we have to disrupt or detract your experience with us in some small ways. The regret is a lie, as is the lack of choice in the matter, and the impact on customer experience can be large. 

When the value given to existing customers is lessened while the price held constant or even increased, the gain goes to the business and the loss to the existing customers. Even in being hampered in trying to see outside a bus, the passenger suffers a loss because he or she would otherwise get the benefits of being able to see clearly through the windows. In fact, why even have windows if they are to be covered in various colors? Even the feeling of having been passively slighted in some way is part of the loss. From the standpoint of the business, existing customers are a given; the aim is to "grow" the business by attracting new customers even if at the expense of the current ones. 

The practice of taking away from the value that customers receive implies an unwillingness to be constrained even by the value-exchange set up by the companies. Perhaps the hope is that few passengers would notice the change and eventually it would be regarded as part of the status quo. The expectation of being able to see clearly through a bus window is replaced. 

Even in terms of cultural norms regarding the American holidays, retailers have gradually pushed up Christmas displays to September. You know something is wrong when you see Christmas trees and decorations then in front of the Halloween decorations and costumes. This shows that some manager did not even feel constrained to give each holiday its due. This can be viewed as an extension of not feeling constrained (by the existing value-exchange) to give existing customers their due. 

At another Lowes, the Christmas displays completely blocked the Halloween pumkins from being visible from the front aisle. 

Managers Going too Far: Targeting Linguistic Over-Reaches

The practice of using words beyond their contexts such that the words’ meanings are tortured and yet are pretended not to be was a trend in modern America during the 2010’s. The business manager instigated the trend in order to “gild the lily,” which means to claim more than is warranted or merited. Astonishingly, people dismissed or perhaps even didn’t recognize such over-reaches. Perhaps as long as people have used language, egos gripped in the pursuit of gain have presumed that keeping to a word’s extant meanings in a language is somehow optional.

To be sure, the malleability of words is one way in which a language changes in order to incorporate societal changes.  “I’ll text you tomorrow,” for instance, uses the noun text as a verb. Similarly, “I’ll email you later today.” These two verbifications did a lot to bring the English language up to date in the twenty-first century. Such adaptations are natural rather than pushed from an agenda.

A motive from an agenda pushes through, insisting that a word can be used all of a sudden in another context in which the meaning does not apply. In other words, the agenda reverberates from the sheer over-intensity of the insistence, or declaration, even above objections that are correct. Once a manager of a Target retail store insisted to me that the shoppers are guests rather than mere customers. Her tone was so forceful I could hear aggression in it. That manager was like arrogance on stilts during a flood; her claim should have been underwater.

Gilding the lily even more, some of those guests are members. It was strange indeed to be asked by a cashier, “Are you a member?” “Of what,” I would naturally wonder, as clubs had members and Target was not a club because it had customers who were not members (and even the members didn’t have to pay dues!). In short, the company was going too far in insisting that its customers be called guests and members, as if the company were a house or club, respectively. When I have guests over and I give them gifts, I don’t charge them for it. In no sense is a customer a guest, especially considering how bad customer service can be. To find an employee referring to a customer as a guest and yet treating the person very badly demonstrates a real disconnect within the employee’s mind, and yet this has been common even since customers “became” (as if naturally) guests and members. Nothing had changed on the store end in terms of customer service, so insisting that customers are to be called guests and members was to pretend that the commercial relationship was something more than it really is. It is this something more that points to the underlying motive: trying to get something more by pretending something that really is not the case. Wanting to pretend that the customer is something better, rather than that word somehow had been sullied and thus naturally to be jettisoned, was the motive. Telling customers that they are guests rather than customers would reflect instead on the company’s arrogance and being in a state of denial.
As another example of going too far in order to claim more than is warranted, Target also designated its retail-area heads as area owners. So, one employee is the owner of the home furnishings, for instance. In a corporation, the stockholders own the corporate wealth collectively. To bestow the title of owner onto an employee simply because he or she is in charge of a given area of the store implies that the employee’s authority is more than it really is. In the process, the meaning of the word owner is violated without even an acknowledgement. Again, a state of denial plays the mental function of protecting the over-reach such that even the over-reach is not recognized as such. It is almost like the managers were living in fantasy lands governed by the simple rule: if changing a word’s meaning helps the business, then make the change and pretend that no such change was made. .

Christmas: A U.S. National Holiday Privatized by Logical Fallacy and Passive Aggression

On December 18, 2018, U.S. President Donald Trump issued an executive order, the first section of which states, “All executive departments and agencies of the Federal Government shall be closed and their employees excused from duty on Monday, December 24, 2018, the day before Christmas Day.” Christmas itself had not been an official federal holiday until an Act of Congress was signed by President Ulysses S. Grant in June, 1870. That Act also declared New Year’s Day and the 4^th of July would be national holidays too, and yet by the 21^st century a significant number of Americans, and especially business managers, were committing a gaping category mistake by treating Christmas as not commensurate with the other two holidays as public holidays. By Christmas in 2018, the self-ingratiating “mistake” was still not transparent. Hence, this essay.

On the federal holiday of Christmas Eve Day before Christmas of 2018, I went grocery shopping at a Bashas’ supermarket. Waiting in the cashier line, an elderly woman at the front and I confronted the cashier, who refused to name the two-day holiday by name. What was behind this rather obvious fit of passive aggression? After the cashier felt the need to inform us that his holiday had been two weeks earlier, I countered that a vital difference exists between private and public holidays. My birthday is a personal holiday to me, and yours is to you, but neither of us would presume that our individual holidays are commensurate with a public holiday; we would not expect and even insist that other people recognize our respective birthdays as holidays. We would not say to strangers, “Happy holiday.” Yet in replying, “My holiday was two weeks ago,” the cashier was treating Christmas, a public, national holiday, as if it too were the private holiday of some people. Herein lies the category mistake! Factually, a public holiday is not a private holiday, so a person errs in putting them into the same category.
Let's pretend that I shop at a Bashas at the end of June, and the cashier facing me says, "Happy Fourth of July!" I reply, "I hope you enjoy your holiday; my holiday was a week ago." I could have been referring to the Summer Solstice, for instance. My holiday is not commensurate with a national holiday, so my use of your and my would be inaccurate, and, frankly, insulting to the public holiday and the people who celebrate it, for it makes no difference to a public holiday how many people celebrate it. The holiday is still a national holiday. The subterranean "game players" either don't understand this, or they reject it without a sound rationale. My response to Independence Day would doubtless be considered very strange; it would also be strange were the cashier to go out of his way to refuse, like a stubborn child, just to say the name of the public holiday (i.e., Independence Day, or "July 4th"). Even so, these dynamics, or games, around Christmastime are accepted as valid on the strange assumption that just because some people might be offended, it is an affront just to with people in public a Merry Christmas. Put another way, the societal dysfunction, which had even become institutionalized thanks to American retailers, has faced a considerable blind-spot (or state of denial). This would not have been the case for Independence Day and New Year's Day in spite of the fact that these two holidays had been made legal public holidays in the same Act of Congress in which Christmas Day was included! 
Lest I be pronounced an ardent rationalist like Kant, who argued that logical contradiction in a maxim being universalized means it is unethical, I supplement my displeasure at the category mistakes with Nietzsche's theory in order to drill deeper, or diagnose the underlying weakness, or sickness. To whit, I submit that resentment and even jealousy, which are manifestations of weakness, are behind the warping of logic. 
To Nietzsche, the weak resent and are jealous of the strong simply because the weak lack it while the strong have a surplus. So the self-confident strong, who are (unlike me) not bothered by the pestilence of the weak not only because it is not a threat, but also because strength resides in itself even as it's benefits overflow to the fishing boats below. “What are those parasites to me!,” the strong say, for the latter are awash in their own strength, which the parasites cannot capture except through “moral” Thou Shalt Nots. This is why Nietzsche was so critical of modern morality; it can be, and has, been used like a club to gain power over the beguiled strong. Ironically, the weak who seek to dominate easily resort to cruelty, whereas the strong have enough of the pleasure of power, especially in mastering a stubborn instinctual urge. 

Speaking to a Bashas’ manager briefly on my way out of the store, I said that the cashier had been rude to another customer and myself by stubbornly staying with the claim that this one national holiday, Christmas, is, in his view, merely a private holiday like his own, thus below New Year’s Day and Independence Day. 

Perhaps part of the explanation of the warping of logic is simply ignorance of the U.S. Constitution, whose first amendment stipulates that the federal government cannot act to establish a religion. Even favoring a religious holiday is out of bounds for the federal (and state) government. So the Act of Congress signed by President Grant must have a non-religious basis; hence, the public holiday of Christmas has survived constitutionally to join Thanksgiving (signed by Lincoln not much before Grant’s Act) and the two other holidays of Grant’s Act as an official public, or national, holiday. So liking Christmas only as akin to the private holidays or individuals or associations thereof cannot merely be a matter of religious jealousy (out of some erroneous sense of equivalence on religious grounds). In other words, the claim that my (personal or associational) religious holiday is equivalent to yours even though yours is associated with a public holiday of the same name is erroneous. Beyond the logic lies resentment and jealousy, which are misplaced.
So saying “Happy Holiday” only for Christmas—a slogan whose passive aggressive core is masked by considerateness in not wanting to offend—is not justified by even the seemingly salubrious mask because the practice has not, at least by 2019, extended to the other public holidays in the United States in spite of the fact that some American Indians may be offended by Thanksgiving greetings, anarchists and other political protesters may be offended by “Happy Fourth of July!” and Quakers and other non-violence groups may be offended by Veterans Day, which is a major public holiday in Arizona. In other words, why is offence so significant only in the case of Christmas?  Because it is an official national holiday in the U.S., and thus a public holiday, Americans are not even ethically bound to omit entire mention of it even on it’s eve just because offence may be taken. The same applies to the other national holidays. My question is the following: why did so many Americans, and virtually all retail businesses, capitulated to Thou shalt not! of the resentful, irrational weak who seek to dominate even the strong. Nietzsche contends that the strong have enough mental strength to overcome their most intractable instinctual urges by mastering rather than repressing them. The weak, in contrast, cannot resist acting on the urge to dominate (even to be cruel if necessary!) even the strong, as if weakness were strength too. Both the cashier and the manager, who, by the way, merely gave me a diplomatic look evinced weakness; without sufficient power internally to change and liking their Thou Shalt Nots, they would no doubt continue even after having their category mistakes revealed. 
Would the American public too simply go on as herd animals once transparency is make possible? Or would Americans, as strong individuals, not be beguiled by mistakened, passive-aggressive false-narratives such as “Christmas is just a religious holiday, and thus equivalent to private religious holy-days, so Christmas is not really a public holiday”?

See On the Arrogance of False Entitlement, available at Amazon. The book applies Friedrich Nietzsche's philosophy to business managers and business ethicists.

Customers as Members and Guests: Retail Fakeness Infecting Society

“Are you a member of the store?”  A salesperson at a Barnes & Nobles’ café department once asked me the question as I was preparing to pay for the coffee drink I had just ordered. Apparently, customers who had registered for a discount card were considered  “members of the store.” The same thing happened to me at a Borders store before that chain went bankrupt. There, the salesperson refused to take my “No, I am not a member” for an answer—as per company policy.

Let's be clear here: retail stores have customers, not members.  Shopping in a Walmart store especially is not at all like belonging to a country club. To put it bluntly, arrogance is the unavoidable bad odor that fills the air when a bottom-feeder retail presumes to have "guests" and "membors." Once an assistant manager of a Target store insisted that customers are guests even after I had pointed out that people do not have guests over to buy something. Ignoring or refuting a customer's reply adds not only further insult, but belies the original claim, for it is an oxymoron for a host or hostess to be rude to guests. 

Moreover, it is presumptuous for a retail company’s employees (including managers) to act (i.e. lie) as if they really believe that stores naturally have members or guests.  Clubs have members, and people who have guests over do not typically treat them to a sale, as in, "Come on over for dinner, but you have to buy something from me first." The retail employee does not think providing dinner is necessary, but is nevertheless orienting to the selling. If a business is open to the public, it does not make sense to refer to the general public as members or invited guests. The self-serving nature of the pretense or outright lie is too saccurine for my taste. In the domain of religion, such managerial employees would doubtless want a convenient religion that boils down to me, me, me. Only a people-pleaser could serve for long as the cleric in such congregations. 
Lastly, a rather slick elitism is implicit in explicitly distinguishing members from non-members, as in “are you a member?” Even in calling some customers "guests" and others "members" projects an "outsider/insider" dichotomy that is overdrawn (and may even involve passive aggression as well as power-aggrandizement). Is it really in a store's financial interest to make some of its customers feel second class? Imagine a Walmart cashier asking you, "Are you a member?" as if anyone would want to be one! You might break out in uncontrollable laughter. "How utterly arrogant for a bottom-feeder retailer even to assume that membership rightly applies there. 

Moreover, any culture highlighted by “members,” "guests," and “upgrades” being somehow pertaining to retail business may suffer from a more general societal trend that is not transparent. Too often, moderns pretend that vacuous retail phrases have substance--treating emptiness as though it were substance. Just because someone, even a manager, asserts that something is real does not make it so. Ultimately, if customers do not object to the arrogant and erroneous use of the words, member and guest, then the insufferable retail mentality that is fine with such vacuous misnomers is enabled. Pretty soon, the sordid practice could become ubiquitous not only in the business sector, but across society if it is highly commercialized as is the case in the United States relative to the European Union. 

When an employee in a store or at it's customer service call-bank says, “I’m sorry for your inconvenience,” or even uses the word "unfortunately" in such an emotionless tone that the speaker could not possibly feel bad about the customer's bad experience, absolutely no credence is to go with that stock (marketing) reply. It is really to say, "Even though you had a bad experience or have a complaint, we at the store want you to think that we acknowledge some responsibility or obligation due to the store's part." In fact, "we want you to go on buying things here as if the problem were so minor it could not warrant an apology with recompensense." In actuality, an apology without any compensation, monetarily or in terms of merchandise, is not only empty, but also quite insulting, for it is a subtle means of cheating the customer, or "guest." Do retailers really think their customers are so stupid as to think that everything is made right again by an easy apology? Even the authors of customer-service books admit that such apologies are so ubiquitous in business that they count for next to nothing. Who could possibly take such unemotional, easy "apology sans renumeration as a real apology, rather than as a pre-arranged talking point that can even feel as a slap. Authentic apologies would be backed up by some economic sacrifice, rather than a coupon-enticement to buy again as if the matter had been resolved to the customer's real satisfaction). Rarely does a customer demand compensation as a prerequisite for accepting the apology, and also for any coming back to the store. A business is an economic entity; one must treat it as such and transact in economic terms. By a business's own reckoning, "Sorry for any inconvenience" without any economic cost to the business can only be of a distant, hypothetical value unless most of the customers are suckers.

More on this topic is in On the Arrogance of False Entitlement: A Nietzschean Critique of Business Ethics and Management, which is available at Amazon.

The Corporate Apology

In classical literature, an apology can mean a defense, such as Plato’s Apology. In modern parlance, an apology is known as an expression of genuine sorrow and an acceptance of responsibility for having caused harm to another person. Consumers should be on guard lest a company use the semblance of an apology for marketing purposes. Robert Bacal advises that an apology be used as a strategy to use “along with other techniques."[1] According to Bacal, “perfunctory or insincere apologies are worse than saying nothing at all.”[2] Accordingly, he advises that a “sincere apology can help calm a customer, particularly when you or your company has made an error. You can apologize on behalf of your company.”[3] However, how can an apology be both sincere and geared to manipulating a customer? I contend that giving a "perfunctory or insincere" apology is unethical because it is essentially a lie spun under the subterfuge of compassion. 

The full essay has been incorporated into On the Arrogance of False Entitlement: A Nietzschean Critique of Business Ethics and Management, available at Amazon.

1. Robert Bacal, Perfect Phrases for Customer Service, 2nd Ed. (New York: McGraw Hill, 2010), p. 19. Italics added.

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid.