As checkout lines grow longer at supermarkets across Canada, the people scanning your groceries have become unwitting frontline witnesses to a mounting food affordability crisis. Their vantage point offers a unique window into how Canadians are adapting to rising costs – from the elderly customer counting pennies to pay for essentials, to the young family abandoning items when the total exceeds their budget.
“We see it every day,” says Marielle Dupont, a grocery clerk with 12 years of experience at a major Ottawa supermarket chain. “People are making harder choices. The conversations I overhear while scanning items have changed dramatically in the past two years.”
The statistics confirm what these clerks witness daily. According to Statistics Canada’s latest Consumer Price Index report, food prices have increased 5.8% year-over-year, outpacing general inflation. Meanwhile, a Dalhousie University Agri-Food Analytics Lab study released last month found that 74% of Canadians have changed their food shopping habits due to inflation.
What’s particularly revealing is how clerks observe these national trends manifesting in real-time through behavioral shifts at checkout counters.
“Five years ago, shoppers would rarely ask me to remove items from their order,” explains Jermaine Wilson, who works at a neighborhood grocery in Scarborough. “Now I’m putting back milk, fresh produce, even children’s snacks multiple times each shift. You can see the calculations happening in people’s heads.”
The affordability crisis is creating distinct regional patterns, too. In Vancouver, where housing costs consume an outsized portion of household budgets, clerks report more shoppers buying in smaller quantities despite the higher unit cost – a counterintuitive economic choice born from cash flow constraints.
The Ontario Living Wage Network recently calculated that a single person in Ottawa needs to earn at least $23.15 per hour to meet basic needs, yet many grocery clerks earn significantly less. This creates an uncomfortable reality where those ringing through food items are themselves struggling with affordability.
“There’s something deeply troubling about working surrounded by food you can’t afford to buy,” says United Food and Commercial Workers representative Sandra Khoury. “Our members are experiencing this crisis from both sides of the register.”
Grocery chains have responded to public pressure with targeted discount programs. Loblaw Companies’ price-freeze initiatives and Metro’s inflation-fighter campaigns aim to address concerns, though critics, including the NDP’s grocery price watchdog proposals, suggest these measures don’t go far enough.
Finance Minister Chrystia Freeland acknowledged the problem during her economic update last week, announcing expanded grocery rebates for low-income Canadians. However, she stopped short of implementing the excess-profit tax on grocery chains that advocacy groups have demanded.
For clerks, these policy debates play out in uncomfortable interactions with frustrated shoppers.
“Customers sometimes blame us for the prices,” Wilson explains. “I’ve been yelled at over the cost of butter, like I personally set the price. It’s not easy being the face of something people are increasingly angry about.”
The psychological toll extends beyond confrontations. Many clerks describe feeling helpless when elderly customers on fixed incomes must decide which necessities to forego, or when a parent quietly returns a child’s birthday cake after seeing the total.
“Those moments stay with you,” says Dupont. “You want to help but there’s little you can do besides process the transaction as quickly as possible to spare them embarrassment.”
Community food security experts point to a troubling trend: the narrowing gap between those traditionally reliant on food banks and working middle-class families now struggling with food costs.
“We’re seeing people who never imagined needing assistance asking for help,” explains Jasmeet Singh, director of the Ottawa Food Bank, where demand has increased 32% since 2022. “Our volunteers now include former donors who understand the system because they’ve had to use it themselves.”
Some clerks have developed unofficial strategies to ease burdens. Several described alerting customers to unadvertised sales, applying discretionary “damaged goods” discounts when possible, or quietly placing nutritious but near-expiry items in food bank donation bins rather than composting them.
“You develop a sixth sense for who’s struggling,” explains a clerk at a Manitoba Co-op who requested anonymity. “Sometimes I’ll casually mention that something will be on sale tomorrow or suggest a cheaper alternative. It’s small, but it feels like something.”
The landscape is particularly challenging in northern communities. In Yellowknife, where food prices were already elevated due to transportation costs, the compounding effects of inflation have been devastating.
“A head of lettuce for $8.99 isn’t unusual here,” says Thomas Nasogaluak, who works at a northern independent grocer. “For communities further north, it’s even worse. People are increasingly relying on traditional foods and community sharing networks.”
The growing divide between food retail profits and worker compensation has sparked increased labor activism. Strike votes at several chains suggest growing solidarity among retail workers who feel squeezed from all directions.
As federal and provincial governments debate potential solutions – from enhanced competition laws to temporary price regulations – grocery clerks continue witnessing the human impact of policy decisions.
“Politicians should spend a day at the register,” suggests Dupont. “They’d understand the crisis differently if they saw the faces of people putting back essentials because they can’t stretch their dollars any further.“
Until broader solutions emerge, Canada’s grocery clerks remain at the intersection of corporate retail strategies, government policy responses, and the daily reality of Canadians making increasingly difficult choices about one of life’s most basic necessities.
And each beep of the scanner tells a story that statistics alone cannot capture.
