Somewhere in a McDonald’s branch, a man quietly waits for the line to clear. Not because he wants to skip it, but because he’s afraid of it.
My sister shared this story with me: her kasambahay waiting for the touchscreen ordering kiosks to be free of people so he could take his time navigating them. Not because he was slow, but because he was scared of being judged. “Baka pagalitan ako ng tao sa likod,” he said. “Baka matawa sila kasi hindi ko alam gamitin.”
This is smart-shaming, but not in the usual “nosebleed-English” or “You, na!” way we talk about. This is a quieter, more everyday kind of shame. One that happens in fast food lines, airport terminals, and digital spaces where the assumption is: you should already know how to do this.
The unseen cost of “Tech-First” design
The Philippines has rapidly digitized. We’ve embraced cashless payments, touchscreen kiosks, app-based everything, and e-whatevers as our new norm. And for many of us, especially those who work in media or tech, this seems like progress.
But for others? It’s a source of anxiety.
Take the e-Gates in NAIA, for example. I’ve watched elderly passengers and OFWs nervously approach the machines, fumbling for both their passport and boarding pass, not realizing both are required. Others get stopped because they don’t know that the eTravel QR code is a thing you have to register for before flying. There’s often no signage explaining this clearly.
And worst of all, there’s barely any guidance. Just the silent pressure of people behind you, waiting.
“Dapat alam mo na ‘yan.”
This phrase is the core of smart-shaming. It implies that knowledge is a moral requirement, that not knowing is a failure of effort or intelligence. But knowledge, especially digital literacy, isn’t evenly distributed.
Some people didn’t grow up with gadgets in their hands. Others didn’t go to schools that taught digital skills. Many work jobs that don’t involve tech at all, and still others can’t afford the latest phones or laptops to practice on. So when we expect everyone to instinctively know how to use QR codes, biometric scanners, or app-based checkouts, we’re not being progressive.
We’re being classist.
“But it’s easy naman!”
Sure, now it is. But that’s because you’ve had the privilege of time and access. You’ve failed quietly in safe spaces, Googled things without judgment, asked your techie friend over dinner. For someone who’s never had those chances, every new digital interaction is a tightrope walk, often with an impatient audience watching.
Bridging, not shaming
If we want to be a truly digital nation, we can’t leave people behind. And that starts with empathy.
Here are a few simple shifts:
- Design for beginners. Tech should be intuitive and forgiving. Include clear instructions. Add an actual human guide beside machines in high-traffic places.
- Normalize asking. If someone’s struggling with a screen or a scan, don’t scoff. Offer help. A simple, “Okay ka lang po diyan?” can make a difference.
- Be patient. Not everyone has had the same exposure you did. Waiting a few extra seconds won’t kill you but glaring might kill someone’s confidence.
- Stop using “tech-illiterate” as an insult. The phrase itself implies a lack of intelligence, when in truth, it’s just a lack of exposure.
Don’t just upgrade your tech. Upgrade your mindset
We love celebrating how far we’ve come with technology. But let’s not forget: real progress isn’t measured by how fast we move. It’s by how many people we take with us.
And I’ll admit, I’m guilty of smart-shaming in subtle ways too. I’ve rolled my eyes, sighed in frustration, or assumed someone was just being “slow” when really, they were doing their best.
Sometimes it happens at home, like when I catch myself getting impatient with my mom just because she doesn’t know how to navigate an app or update her phone. She didn’t grow up with this stuff the way I did, and it’s a reminder that I have to constantly check my own privilege. It’s something I’ve had to unlearn. I have to remind myself that not everyone has had the same chances to learn, fail safely, or catch up.
So the next time someone’s taking their time at a kiosk, a QR scanner, or an immigration machine, remember: they’re not holding the line. They’re learning. And that’s something we should never shame.
