As I sit here in O. R. Tambo Airport’s domestic departure lounge, I’m highly amused by an example of job creation that I encountered while checking in.
Recently, South African airports have added self-service check-in kiosks. These things are the greatest invention since the high-heel boot and really do save you a lot of time. Well, sometimes.
The problem is that when they were first installed, each kiosk came with a operator. These operators were not very bright, and significantly slowed down your use of the kiosk as they strained to remember what to do next after every keystroke*.
It didn’t take long for laziness to improve the system. Within a few weeks the operators had become a vague, shadowy presence on the edge of your consciousness as they left you to operate the machine yourself, and to get your boarding pass in double-quick time!
In Johannesburg, a sinister trend has developed. Each kiosk operator sports a clipboard. As you start to use the machine, or as you try to leave with your boarding pass, they run over and ask you what your name is.
Now, I don’t believe that people have the right to know my name. If the airline knows enough about me to let me on the flight, I’m darned if I’m going to oblige some minor bureaucrat-in-training with more information. Yes, I did briefly toy with the idea of claiming to be Osama bin Laden, but this is an airport and that could land me in the Guatanamo Bay barber shop quartet faster than you can harmonise “Allah Akbar! God is Great!” Therefore, I respectfully declined to participate.
Today’s young lady was affronted. She explained that she was just doing her job, and that it was an important job because her employer suspected her and her colleagues of standing around all day doing nothing. Therefore, they had to write down the names of everybody who checked in using the kiosk.
*: Actually, these are touch-screen kiosks, but you get the idea.
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