SELF-SERVICE checkouts were last week blamed for a rise in supermarket losses.

A report from Leicester University said the technology – introduced to make shopping easier – had seen an increase in mistakes from customers scanning items – as well as stealing.

The checkouts split opinion, with many shoppers despising the inhuman technology. Two Sunday Post writers have different views on self-service…

There’s soothing solitude in self-scan – says Stevie Gallacher

SO it turns out the thin line between an ordered, civilised society and widespread looting and pillaging was Agnes the checkout lady.

How else can you explain the news that losses double when shops use self-service technology?

That nice lady manning the till is in fact the iron sentinel who helps keep at bay the compelling, criminal urge we all have to cram packets of Super Noodles down our trousers.

Just another reason to despise these machines, say the critics. Look at what they make us do, they cry.

But this is like blaming Fray Bentos for the obesity crisis, when in actual fact it’s those who gobble tinned pies for breakfast who probably shoulder the majority of the blame.

Let’s not blame petty thievery, then, on these unfairly maligned artificially intelligent cashiers.

Folk dislike them so much I’m beginning to think it’s rooted in fear, as if automated supermarkets are a worrying step on the road to making the robo-pocalypse depicted in The Terminator a terrifying reality.

But I do understand why folk would in the main rather wait in a queue and deal with a real human person than faff about with a handheld-scanner or an unfeeling robot checkout.

Unlike a real cashier they can’t look you in the eye. They don’t make small talk. In fact they tend to issue creepy, dispassionate orders at you like pitiless concentration camp guards.

Do what it asks, hiss the other customers, as you dither over how to charge yourself for a handful of loose grapes.

But I, for one, welcome our new computer overlords.

Admit it, there’s something exciting about scanning your own shopping. It’s probably why kids get awfully giddy around the self-service checkouts.

It puts a smile on the face of infants, and overgrown infants like me, who get deliriously happy when they make a machine go BEEP.

Childish? Yes. Fun? Undoubtedly. BEEP!

And then there are those days when the harsh grind of modern living leaves you dreading having to chat about something simple, like the weather.

There’s no shame in wanting a bit of solitude.

With a real cashier there’s actual pressure to put on a fake smile and gibber about the price of mince.

The cold indifference of a machine on such miserable days can actually be quite soothing.

In fact Lidl and Aldi should take note and introduce self-scan checkouts forthwith.

At the moment the German supermarket chains don’t bother with fancy technology or self-service checkouts at all.

They train cashiers to ruthlessly scan items at something approaching the speed of light, leaving customers desperately stuffing their bags-for-life with the haste of someone packing up vital possessions ahead of an approaching hurricane.

Now THAT’S stressful.

Simple human contact is still the best – says Ali Kirker

WHEN self-service checkouts first appeared, I thought I’d be a fan.

Ooh, I said. The modern world. This is the way forward!

I’ll be in control. Confidently scanning my items quickly, bagging them up and then striding on my way to enjoy the more fun things in life.

Oops, not before paying, of course. Don’t want you thinking bad thoughts about me.

How wrong I was.

I soon realised that two words would come to haunt me.

Bagging area.

Just typing them out makes me shudder.

Because so many times that bossy robot-voiced woman has shouted at me: Unexpected Item In The Bagging Area.

What unexpected item would that be, then? A hair? A bit of fluff, invisible to the naked eye?

Alternatively, horrible robot-voice lady would be demanding that I must Place The Item In The Bagging Area.

It’s already in the bagging area. You know it is – stop doing this to me!

Those very words take me back to one of my most embarrassing memories.

I was in Asda after visiting my mum and dad. My kids were toddler-ish age. They were young, boisterous and wanted to “help” me with the fun new checkout.

It was 8pm. It had been a long, frazzling day. I just wanted to get home. So each time I was ordered to Place The Item In The Bagging Area and one of my little darlings didn’t do it quite right, my voice rose just that little bit higher.

Until I eventually shouted in a shrill, loud voice that brought the whole of Asda to a halt: “PUT IT IN THE FLIPPING BAGGING AREA!”

And then I looked up. By this time I was red-faced, wild-eyed and generally stressed out and my kids carried on regardless.

Yes, I was one of those mums.

And then I spotted a man I’d been at school with, Andy, staring at me in horror. It was the first time we’d seen each other in 25 years.

When I was 14, I’d had a secret crush on him. Just as well I was over it.

It wasn’t my fault, Andy. I’m not always like that. It was those darned checkouts.

I soon realised the joy of having a real person serve you is irreplaceable. They know what they’re doing. They know where to find the bar codes, how to make their tills work when they go a bit wrong.

We don’t.

And what about the simple, human contact that can brighten a dull day?

A chat about the weather or the state of the nation with the man in the queue behind you.

A wee nosy in someone’s basket. Oh, look, they’re having reduced-priced sausages for tea tonight. Wish I’d seen them.

Are we all so busy and leading such massively interesting lives that we can’t wait a couple of minutes to be served properly?

If your answer is yes, then think on this. According to one of the brains behind the survey out last week, it is actually quicker to be served by a real, live person.

You see? Sometimes the traditional ways are best.

Online supermarket delivery services are put to the test