The Tipping Point: Understanding US Tipping Culture

When she visited the US for the first time in eight years in 2025, Jordan Kastelic was left shocked by the tipping culture. “In most countries, tipping is a way of saying ‘thank you’ — optional, contained and tied to good service,” says the 28-year-old game designer from London. “In the US, it felt compulsory, like a hidden tax.” At one point, she was prompted to tip for a pre-packaged muffin at a self-service cafe. “I received no assistance, no interaction, just a screen asking for more.”

Tipping has been woven into the US cultural fabric for more than a century — and controversial for just as long. Historically, it was a token gesture by the wealthy upper classes to show appreciation for good service. It came with the added benefit of supplementing income, but that was never the intention.

When the Fair Labor Standards Act of 1938 came into effect, employers became allowed to pay staff less than the minimum wage if they could make up the rest in tips. In some states, hospitality workers can still be paid as little as $2.13 (£1.60) per hour, with the assumption that tips will bring the wage to the federal minimum of $7.25 (£5.40). This has made tipping optional in theory but mandatory in practice — and some customers say it’s now reached tipping point.

Recently, tipping culture shifted into higher gear, a phenomenon some have dubbed ‘tipflation’. During the Covid outbreak, with hospitality businesses closing and livelihoods at risk, customers were encouraged to give more generously; if 15% to 20% was the norm before, 30% became standard in some places. Post-pandemic, expectations remained high because of the soaring cost of living.

The widespread adoption of digital point of sales machines exacerbated the issue. These systems ask customers to pick a set tip before allowing payment, and while you can decline or change the amount at the touch of a button, it can be awkward to do so under the eye of the person serving you. They’ve also spread to sectors where service is minimal — or indeed seemingly non-existent. You might now be asked to tip for takeaway coffee, say, and even a cheeky self-checkout might suggest a gratuity.

According to a 2023 survey by the Pew Research Center, two thirds of Americans report being confused by changing etiquettes; for visitors, it can be worse. More people are complaining, too. At least 63% of US residents have a negative view of tipping, according to a 2025 survey by Bankrate, a financial publisher and comparison service, with 41% saying it’s gotten out of control. Anecdotally, some are declining to tip altogether.

Some restaurants have started operating no-tip policies, while states such as California and Nevada have abolished subminimum wage for tipped workers. “But absent an act of Congress,” says Nick Leighton, co-host of etiquette podcast Were You Raised By Wolves?, “it’s unlikely anything is going to change anytime soon.”

So, how do you budget for a trip when you don’t quite know when, where and how much you should tip? “I’d work out a daily spending budget and add 20% for tipping,” says Scarlett Martin, a US expert from Flight Centre UK.

As a rule, expect to leave restaurants around 15% to 20% of the total spend; for bigger cities, fine-dining addresses or complex dietary requirements, that can go up to 25%. The same percentages apply to food deliveries — which can go up for long distances or bad weather — and bars tabs. For takeaways and coffeeshops, tipping is optional, but a couple of dollars is always appreciated.

A tip of 10% to 15% is also usual for longer taxi or rideshare journeys, while 10% to 20% is common for one-day tours. Natalie Sexton, head of brand at tour operator Ocean Florida, suggests also setting aside a small cash pot with £5 dollar bills to tip housekeeping, bellhops or valets. It’s worth remembering, too, that tipping remains optional; if you don’t feel the situation justifies the tip, you’re within your rights to stand your ground.