Want My Spare Change? Spare Me the Guilt Trip
With charitable contribution requests surging at checkouts, it pays retailers to employ a light touch.
Recently, I “rounded up” at a restaurant. I agreed to boost my lunch tab by 40-something cents, to bring it up to the next dollar.
The eatery pledged that virtual loose change would go to a charitable cause whose identity I rapidly forgot but which seemed worthy in the moment.
I don’t always take that step. It depends on the charity, and my mood, and God only knows how many other nuanced factors beyond my conscious mind.
It all adds up to this: being tapped for a charitable contribution can work, but because the volume of these requests is so heavy, it helps to have a light touch.
It’s not going away, either, as Rachel Wolfe recently laid out in The Wall Street Journal, Just Like Tip Prompts, Requests for Donations at Checkouts Are Everywhere.
The subheadline encapsulates the story: “As retail donation campaigns proliferate, consumers say they are less likely to give money while shopping.”
Less likely, sure, but skillful communication can overcome the reluctance and fatigue of even the most jaded consumer.
My household donates to a variety of causes. The moment we make that initial contribution, they know where to find us to ask for more. Some days, we get multiple pieces of mail…and 100% of them contain a plea for financial support.
So, it’s a bit exhausting to feel like I every time I walk out my door that I must gird myself for requests at just about every corner.
The Wall Street Journal story, noted above, begins:
“That request to round up your bill at the checkout counter for charity is one of the simplest ways to help nonprofits. But consumers are showing signs of fatigue as these tiny appeals for goodwill multiply.
Shoppers aren’t worried about spending a dollar on worthy causes like PetSmart’s efforts to help shelter animals find homes or Costco’s campaigns to help sick kids. They’re tired of chain restaurants and retailers asking for money, especially as a broader array of businesses are also asking customers to tip their employees.”
As for me, I am especially weary of heavy-handed or tone-deaf tactics. But if someone delivers a winsome message, I am open to the possibility of opening my wallet.
My Pet(co) Peeve
I addressed this subject on my website five years ago after one too many pushy-solicitation moments at my local Petco:
“Asking for donations is an art form—there’s no single scientifically proven method that’s best in all situations and for all causes. Ideally, you want to hone a message that lies between these two extremes:
A) Craft a pitch too subtly, and folks won’t even realize you’re raising money.
B) Arrange words that conspire to push too hard, and you’re liable to repel your audience.
Which of those extremes, do you suppose, is illustrated by the overture to Petco customers at their point of purchase:
WILL YOU HELP SAVE A HOMELESS PET?
When I first encountered that query while purchasing kitty litter about a year ago, my first reaction was that pressing “no” comes at the risk of going on a guilt trip. But upon further reflection and with each subsequent purchase (and pressing of “No”), it has bred resentment.
How annoying that, at a moment when I am patronizing this shop, it is implicitly challenging my compassion for homeless pets.
And isn’t Petco already using a portion of my money toward its efforts to help homeless pets? Rather than hearing “thank you for your business,” it feels like the company’s parting sentiment is “OK, now we see: you care only about your pet.”
I don’t have exhaustive analytics to back this up, but common sense would strongly suggest that neither guilt nor resentment serves any business very well.
Central to Petco’s donation-pitch problem is that it makes personal such a strong-armed tactic. Much better to dilute the directness by shifting to a collective “team” effort in saving homeless pets.
Simple addition or subtraction—a word or two, either way—would do wonders to improve this solicitation:
Will you help us save homeless pets?
Want to help homeless pets?
Want to help us save homeless pets?
Help us save homeless pets!
My closing words, then, are a direct (and, I daresay, neither too subtle nor too forceful) appeal to the Petco PR and Communications team:
Will you help me improve your donation pitch?”1
Never did hear from their PR/communications team. And every shopping visit I have made since then, they’ve kept up with the clunky guilt-trip.
Research backs up your statement that "many other nuanced factors beyond [your] conscious mind" influence your chances of giving. Specifically, one's mood has been found to be a factor. Knowing this, its influence is usually in my mind when someone approaches me for a favor, but mood still influences my choice, and I can attest to what the research has found. It all kind of gets back to what I said about your respective experiences with Adam Schiff and Mickey Rooney: what we do is more often about our qualities than objective appraisal of what we are justified in doung. If you're nice, or if you're feeling good, you're more likely to do the good thing, regardless of whether the case for doing so is compelling.
I think of myself as a social scientist, but I am philosophically against the "nudge." In my mind, the Cass Sunsteins of the world are using their power for evil. I don't care if nudges are for the good of society in the aggregate. I want to do what I want to do, and I don't want to end up in a different place without knowing it. I don't want to be tricked. I know this is completely whimsical and indefensible, but it's the way that I feel. A life without any prejudices would be no life at all, and this is one of mine. But you can still see the guilt I feel, in line with one of the themes of your piece.
My wife and I budget our charitable giving and are generous with it, but I don't give extra at Point of Sale (I was one of the "Never" answers in the poll). I also don't tip at Point of Sale for items that don't require any extra service. If I get a sandwich from Jersey Mike's or Subway, I don't see a need to tip - they're doing their job. If I get one at a local restaurant that charges before service but they bring my sandwich to me, fill up my coffee or water, and bus the table, I'm happy to pre-tip at Point of Sale or after the fact if I have cash (which I usually don't carry).