I believe in tipping.

If someone waits on my table, delivers food to my house, cuts my hair, or provides great service, I have no problem leaving a good tip.

But lately, I feel like America has entered a completely different era of tipping.

You walk into a coffee shop, order a coffee at the counter, and before you’ve even received it, a screen turns around and asks:

18%.

20%.

25%.

Sometimes there’s a custom option, and somewhere in the corner, a tiny button for “No Tip.”

And for some reason, pressing that button feels like you’re publicly announcing that you’re a terrible person.

That’s what bothers me.

It’s not really about the few extra dollars. It’s the feeling that tipping is no longer something you give because someone provided good service. It’s becoming something you’re expected to do simply because a transaction happened.

I’ve been asked to tip when picking up food myself.

I’ve been asked to tip before receiving any service.

I’ve seen tip screens appear in places where I honestly couldn’t figure out who I was supposed to be tipping or what service had actually been provided.

And every time that screen turns around, there’s that awkward moment.

The employee is standing there.

You’re standing there.

The screen is asking you a question.

Everyone pretends nobody is watching.

Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I thought a tip was supposed to mean something.

If a server spends an hour taking care of my table, bringing food, refilling drinks and making sure everything is right, absolutely — I’ll tip.

But if I walk to a counter, grab a bottle of water and pay for it, why am I being asked for 20 percent?

There’s also a bigger issue that we don’t talk about enough.

Why are customers increasingly being asked to solve the problem of employee compensation?

If a worker deserves better pay — and many absolutely do — shouldn’t businesses be responsible for paying them properly?

Instead, we’ve created this strange system where businesses set the prices, workers depend on tips, and customers are left feeling guilty if they don’t add another 20 or 25 percent.

Nobody seems particularly happy with it.

Workers shouldn’t have to wonder whether they’ll make enough in tips.

Customers shouldn’t have to calculate a moral decision every time an iPad turns around.

And businesses shouldn’t be able to quietly transfer more of their labor costs onto customers while pretending menu prices haven’t increased.

I’ll continue tipping.

I’ll tip my servers. I’ll tip delivery drivers. I’ll tip people who provide personal service, especially when they do a great job.

But I don’t think every payment in America needs to end with someone turning a screen toward me and asking how generous I’m feeling today.

At some point, a tip stopped being a thank-you.

It started becoming another fee.