Tipping may seem harmless. It rarely stays that way

There’s something quietly shifting in the UAE’s service culture. A small nudge, a polite prompt, an optional extra that now appears on our screens: “Would you like to tip?” It feels harmless. Even generous. After all, who doesn’t want to support the hard-working people who bring our food, carry our bags, or clean our tables?

But allow me to offer a word of caution. Not out of cynicism, but out of deep respect for what already works. The UAE has long been known for high standards of service and, more importantly, for keeping that service clean and dignified. You don’t need to calculate a percentage or guess how much someone relies on your generosity. You’re not made to feel guilty. That clarity is not something we should casually give up.

Kind gesture

In other parts of the world, tipping began as a kind gesture. But it didn’t stay that way. In the United States today, many restaurant servers legally earn as little as $2.50 an hour. The rest is made up through tips, which means their income depends on how someone else feels at the end of a meal. That shift happened slowly, but it happened. What started as appreciation became the foundation of an entire wage structure.

And the same thing can happen here. Say a delivery driver earns Dh3,000 a month. Tipping is introduced, and now he takes home Dh3,500. Eventually, the company lowers the base pay to Dh2,500, assuming tips will make up the rest. The total doesn’t grow, it just gets divided differently. That is how markets work. A service settles at one price. Any temporary increase is eventually absorbed.

Irregular income

But the problem doesn’t end with wages. Once income becomes irregular, the worker begins to disappear from the formal economy. Banks won’t lend to someone who earns mostly through tips. There’s no payslip, no fixed amount, nothing to underwrite. Today, even real estate agents face this problem. They might do well in commissions, but they are often denied loans and financing because their income is considered unstable. Now imagine the same situation for delivery drivers, waiters, or cleaning staff. How do they get a car loan? How do they ever buy a home?

These are hard-working people. They deserve every tool that allows them to move forward. But if we push them into a system where they rely on variable tips instead of fixed salaries, we take away their access to capital. We don’t just reduce their income, we shrink their future.

Meanwhile, some of the most profitable companies in the region have already started encouraging tips on their platforms. They tell us that 100% of the tip goes to the worker, and that might be true for now. But what happens next? The moment tipping becomes a regular part of the model, companies adapt. Base salaries go down. Customers are expected to make up the difference. Quietly, the payroll is pushed onto the public.

Act of obligation?

Let us be clear. The responsibility of paying a fair wage should never fall on the customer. It is, and must remain, the duty of the business. The moment we normalise tipping, we risk turning acts of appreciation into acts of obligation. Every service becomes a performance judged not on professionalism, but on how much extra it earns.

Tipping, when done routinely, also changes how we see each other. It may seem generous to say, “It’s only 20% for me, but it makes a big difference to them.” But that kind of thinking slowly creates a gap. It introduces quiet hierarchy. It makes people dependent on pity instead of being respected for their work.

A good society does not make its workers rely on luck or guilt. It pays them properly, and it lets them plan. It gives them stability, not pressure.

That is not to say we must stop tipping altogether. If someone goes out of their way, if the moment feels deserving, by all means, tip. But let it be a gesture, not a price tag. Let it be spontaneous, not prompted. Let it be yours, not the app’s.

The UAE already has a service culture that works. It is built on fairness, clarity, and professionalism. We do not need to follow the broken examples of others. We can choose to keep what is working, and protect the dignity of those who serve.

Let’s not tip the balance.

Adnan Solanki is a long-time resident of the UAE and works in the real estate sector