omers who suffer, and since Thailand is a non-complaining and non-confrontational culture, they suffer in silence. Take, for example, Villa Market, a chain of more than 30 supermarkets around Thailand that specialises in imported international foods and is thus much loved by expats, tourists and affluent Thai urban professionals. It covers all the basic grocery items you would find in any mid-range supermarket, but the prices are somewhat higher, and it has items you can’t get, or are hard to find, in other supermarkets. It does suffer from a few minor, albeit irritating, issues, such as a tendency to be out of stock on items you have come to rely on being on the shelf. This is generally within acceptable limits, given the stretched supply chain for imported items. But in some of its stores, it exemplifies a problem alarmingly prevalent in Thai retail: smartphone addiction among staff. The Thailand supermarket industry standard guidelines for personal phone use during working hours are clear: phones must be stored out of sight and can only be used during breaks and in specified areas. In the provincial capital where I live, the Villa Market store is an approximately 1000sqm freestanding unit that shares a sprawling lot with a gaggle of retail, food and beverage businesses that turns into a congested free-for-all in the evening when a popular street food market springs to life. The grubbiness of the building belies a pleasantly laid-out supermarket within. Still, the consumer experience is marred by somnolent staff members standing or sitting around, sometimes obviously hiding in shadowy spaces, using their phones for personal entertainment. This includes the staff at the registers, who are sometimes so distracted by what is happening on their screens that they don’t even notice the customer arriving at the checkout. Usually, about 20 customer-facing staff are on hand, and all but two or three are in a catatonic state, mesmerised by their screens. It looks grotesque, and it prevents them from doing what they should be doing during down times: restocking the shelves, keeping the place clean and secure, providing good customer service and giving the store a look of professionalism. Where is the store manager, one might ask? Most likely on the phone, like the others. Down the road at Tops, a different customer experience problem emerges and, again, it’s the store manager’s failure. Tops supermarket, owned by Central Retail, prohibits employees from using phones during work hours. There are 173 Tops supermarkets in Thailand, anchored by the Robinson Lifestyle and Tops Plaza malls that Central Retail operates, along with the 45 malls operated by sibling company Central Pattana. Tops is an excellent modern supermarket, and the ban on phone use allows its employees to do the things supermarket employees need to do. It presents well to customers. It looks right. Alas, at Tops there is another customer experience problem in many stores, which is persistent and again falls under the responsibility of the store manager: the checkout experience is often a horror show of long lines and, at the handful of self-checkout stations (typically four of them), there are perpetual technology failures (weight sensor failures, barcode reading failures, payment acceptance failures and so on) requiring staff overrides and other interventions. In addition, alcohol sales require age verification by a staff member. So Tops has clear policies about self-checkouts: there must always be a staff member present. It is a rule that isn’t enforced. Consequently, hapless customers are left time and again to choose between wandering around the store looking for an employee to assist or abandoning the process altogether and either shifting to a different self-checkout station or joining the regular staffed checkout line. Consequently, at any one time, it is not at all uncommon for at least one of the self-checkout screens to be in a state of abandonment, needing staff intervention; another to have a whirling hourglass, needing another intervention; and one to have a little paper sign saying the machine is completely out of order. Why don’t people complain? Customers in Thailand almost always avoid complaining about bad retail experiences and tend to accept them with a stoicism one would never see in a Western retail setting. This is entirely consistent with the culture of non-compliance in other situations (for example, road rage is extremely rare in Thailand). So there is little direct pressure for reform coming from the customers themselves. Home improvement stores are another store management failure Thai home improvement stores exemplify the vast, hulking DIY warehouses you find anywhere in the world. The largest chains in Thailand are Siam Global House, HomePro and Thai Watsadu, which, like Tops, is part of the Central Retail portfolio. Again, these retail chains have clear policies on employee personal phone use, and the rules are consistently flouted. Unlike in supermarkets, the flouting is a little more nuanced: towards the front of the store and at the registers, phone use is less common. But home improvement stores are huge, so employees who want to use their phones tend to move to the store’s more shadowy back half. There is little evidence that store managers try to put a stop to the practice. Time for store managers to shape up These are just a few examples. Of course, there are some stores where the corporate rules for things like phone use are observed. But in many instances, head office needs to act in the interests of efficient store operations, store security, professional presentation and, above all, relief for the long-suffering stoic Thai customer. Memo to store managers: shape up or ship out. Further reading: Why Central Khonkaen Campus raises the bar