Opinon / Fiona Wilson
The price of convenience
The idea of machines replacing humans once seemed like a distant fantasy but in Japan, which is confronting a diminishing population and a shrinking workforce, the reality is coming home sooner than expected. From this summer, convenience store chain Lawson will be trialling unmanned night-time operations at two of its shops. Between midnight and 05.00, the two unstaffed outlets will only be open to registered Lawson shoppers who have a QR code to unlock the door; items will be paid for with smartphones or self-checkout machines. If it goes well, the system could be rolled out to other branches (Lawson has about 15,000 around Japan).
It is a depressing prospect. The convenience store – conbini – is such a feature of life in Japan; it’s a place where people get their morning coffee, pay their bills, buy baseball tickets or just flick through magazines. In its own strip-lit way, the conbini makes for a comforting community of strangers. Devoid of people (and those services that won’t be available at night) it doesn’t seem quite so cosy. Of course, it is impressive that the idea of a fully stocked shop without staff is even possible; the shelves and cash machines would likely be stripped clean in any other country. But do we really want our convenience to come with a sense of isolation? The curious allure of the Japanese conbini was caught in Sayaka Murata’s bestselling novel Convenience Store Woman, which is about an observant conbini worker. It is hard to imagine an unmanned shop inspiring award-winning literature.