Choosing convenience over principle is too easy

I needed a new espresso-maker, so I phoned some local stores, but nobody had the one I wanted.

But there it was on Amazon for a cheaper price than expected. So with some guilt, I pressed the purchase button and it arrived two days later. In principle, I support local stores run by actual humans: If I don’t shop at them, how will they survive? But sometimes it’s easy to choose convenience over principle.

That’s also why I find myself driving to Marché Central lately for larger items I can’t carry by hand, more often than to Ste-Catherine St., where parking is hard. I love Ste-Catherine, but sometimes it’s easier to go to malls, which I hate. But if we all do this, how will downtown survive?

It’s the curse of the convenience era, when it’s often easier to do … what’s easier.

The convenience era has a long history. It started with inventions like the telephone that revolutionized the meaning of “long distance” — and washing machines that saved days of scrubbing.

Then came TV dinners, microwave popcorn, the Walkman, computers, cellphones, selfie sticks, the toothpaste tube squeezer, the umbrella-in-a-cup and ... well, you know the story, civilization marched on.

Now get ready for the next convenience “revolution,” brought to us by Amazon. Their new Amazon Go stores have opened in several U.S. cities, unveiling the latest time-saving marvels.

You never have to wait in lines, or even open your wallet, because there are no cashiers, or even self-serve aisles.

You just wave your phone then “grab-and-go” because your stuff is automatically scanned by your phone and deducted from your credit card as you leave.

Amazon plans to open 3,000 Go shops in the next three years, Wal-Mart is already copying the idea and the technology is expected to spread quickly to all major stores.

It’s everything about the future that’s convenient and scary at the same time. Soon cashiers will be as quaint and forgotten as elevator operators who asked what floor you wanted then pushed a crank. It’s estimated that more than seven million retail jobs could vanish next decade.

New stores will barely need staff because their computers will know your tastes from your electronic shopping history. Experts say it won’t be long before these stores suggest products on your phone as you walk in, then lead you to them by GPS, with no need for archaic sales clerks.

“Hey Josh: we see you buy lots of marinated barbecue ribs — ON SPECIAL TODAY! (Aisle 13). They’d go well with the jalapeno sweet fries arugula peach salad you like.

“We also see you’re flying to London Tuesday with our airline partners. It’s minus 3 there today — but we’ve got a great deal on those wool cardigans you love, in your favourite teal-blue.”

Everything will be easier once computers know our preferences better than we do. That’s why 80 per cent of all Netflix shows that viewers watch are recommendations from Netflix’s “because-you-watched-X-you’ll-love-Q” list.

Soon, with gadgets like Echo, you won’t even have to figure out which of your five TV remotes to use — you’ll just shout: “Alexa! Find something good on TV at 8 p.m. You know what I like.”

Meanwhile, all those ex-cashiers, store clerks and shopowners can get jobs as Uber drivers like everyone today — but not for long. Self-driving vehicles will eventually un-employ tens of millions of cabbies and truckers.

But we customers won’t complain, because self-driving cars will be way safer and more efficient than mere human drivers. So we better hope all these convenient changes somehow lead to yet-unimagined future jobs — or at least to better lives. We once dreamt of living in a post-work leisure society where we would go to concerts, entertain friends and travel the world — but that’s hard to do without money.

Many of today’s changes make big Amazonian companies richer and many others poorer.

Besides, does all this convenience actually help us enjoy life more? The more time-saving gizmos and services we have, the more frazzled we seem to be.

We fume about getting locked out of PayPal because we failed to “identify all the pictures with a delicatessen in them” to prove we’re human, not a robot. Or we sputter: “I had to wait on hold 47 minutes to get my ultra-high, super-high, high-speed internet working — so I missed my boutique boxing class and now I’m just too stressed to do anything!”

Managing our endless timesaving conveniences seems to take up a lot of our time.

I wish I knew how to stop this easy slide into unemployment and aggravation, but I’ll probably go to the first Amazon Go shop that opens here — since I hate waiting at the cash.

Meanwhile, I’m going to have my computer’s latest spellcheck and “predictive text” programs go through this column and correct it. But I better not complain when it starts writing it.