Thursday 24 January 2013

Tipping Point

By 90% of the world's standards, I'm a wealthy man.  I'm not a millionaire, I don't have a Ferrari, a yacht or a hedge fund, but I'm doing okay - you know, nice house in England's Home Counties, good job, wife with a good job, children at a good school, a couple of cars, financially secure.

Here in my current abode of the UAE, I see plenty of people for whom my total wealth wouldn't equal a day's interest on their investments and I also see, at closer quarters, many for whom my monthly salary would surpass a lifetime's savings.  There aren't many places where the gap between rich and poor is so huge and so tangible.

For example, there's a Bangladeshi man who sweeps the street outside my home.  Day in, day out, he pushes a wheelie bin around, pointlessly sweeping up sand that just blows back again and thinking - well, who knows what he's thinking?  I hope he doesn't hate me for my comparative wealth.  I smile at him, which is more than most people do, and he smiles back.  That may mean more to him than the odd bottle of water, can of Coke or chocolate bar that I give him.  It might even mean more than the cash (not much, to me) I gave him at Christmas.  I don't know.

Because my wife and I both work we employ a cleaning company to keep our house spick and span.  The Filipina lady and Pakistani man sent twice a week by the company do a wonderful job but I hate to think what percentage of our fee they actually get or what they think of our flat screen TV, computers and other accoutrements.  I hope they don't hate me for my comparative wealth either but I wouldn't blame them if they do, despite the cash I also gave them at Christmas.

Then there are the UAE's petrol pump attendants, also from some of the world's poorest countries.  I can fill up my gas-guzzling expat SUV here for less than £20/US$32.  In England, it would cost five times that - and I'd have to fill it up myself, in the cold.  Here, a man who earns something in the region of AED 1,000 (about £170/US$270) per month saves me the bother of getting out of my air-conditioned car and getting my hands dirty and my shirt sweaty in the heat and fills it up for me.  Usually, he'll also clean my windscreen.  In return, I like to give a tip - probably just the spare change I have in my pocket.  It's nothing to me but, added to the tips from other drivers, it'll mean something to him - AED 40-80 per day, according to the newspaper that reported the news here a few weeks ago that a worker at an Emarat petrol station in Dubai had been strip-searched and then sacked because he had kept an AED 10 tip from a customer.  Emarat's initial defence of this outrageous action was that staff were supposed to pool tips for an 'entertainment fund'.  Yes, entertainment is a top priority for a man earning as little as AED 3 (50p/80c) per hour for a 12-hour shift six days per week. 

Emarat has now put up signs on its forecourts saying: "In order to ensure excellent service level (sic) to our customers, we adopt a No-Tipping policy."  Hmmm.  Putting aside the issue that pump attendants are obviously going to provide a better service if they think they might get a tip and even ignoring the moral bankruptcy of paying someone a pittance for filling up rich people's cars and then strip-searching them to make sure they aren't keeping their own tips, what right does Emarat have to tell me that I can't give my money to whomever I choose?

I appreciate that I do not live in a democracy with a minimum wage, that the labourers of the UAE probably - you never know - came here by choice (I hate to think how bad life at home must be if sweeping the streets or filling up cars for AED 3 per hour is a better alternative) and that the world is just not fair but if I want to give my money to a petrol pump attendant, cleaner, street sweeper or any other person doing an honest job then I will do so.  

It would be easy to drive a little out of my way to find another petrol station - ADNOC, ENOC and EPCO claim not to search their staff for tips - but if everyone did that the poor Emarat workers would lose their jobs.

No, I shall continue to use Emarat petrol stations and continue to tip as I see fit, unless the workers there think accepting my money might cost them their jobs.  I urge you to do the same, if you can afford it (and if you can afford a car, you can afford it).

A final thought: is this whole business legal?  Anyone know a good lawyer who might be able to advise?