Two very different faces of the restaurant business were presented to the public in recent days. Which do you think did more to embellish the industry’s image?
One accounting revealed how McDonald’s was handling the most odious of tasks an employer faces, the layoff of capable employees for the sake of cutting costs. The Golden Arches’ approach wasn’t exactly something for a management textbook. As scores of news stories reported, the mega-employer added to the torment of its staff by directing its office workers to stay home and await word on which of them would shortly not have a job. The unfortunate learned they’d be pink-slipped via a Zoom call.
Stephen King should conjure such suspense. And executioners should be as heartless.
Almost simultaneously, the Jersey Mike’s sub chain announced to the public that its restaurant staffs and franchisees had labored for a full day to help their communities. The employees got paid, but their employers donated every penny they collected on March 29 to charity. That’s about 2,500 restaurants.
How did the public react? The Day of Giving, as Jersey Mike’s calls the annual giveback, held on to its distinction as the brand’s busiest day since the 2022 event was held (it’s always scheduled for late March). And the customers chipped in their own donations during all of March, boosting the total proceeds for charity to $21 million.
Just to recap: The industry’s most visible player—and one of its most successful enterprises at the moment—alerted employees that a bunch of them were about to be whacked and they should stand by to see if they were included. Keep those network lines open.
Add in what’s happening at Starbucks, where a small but loud minority of employees are yelping about how they’re treated by one of the industry’s most progressive employers, and driving for Amazon or Uber looks considerably better than working a fast-food grill.
Meanwhile, a chain about one-fifth the size of Big Mac was giving up a day’s worth of systemwide sales, a true sacrifice for an operation of its scope. Customers dug into their own pockets to show their admiration.
Brontosaurus burgers were likely still a rage when the industry realized it needed to improve its image. Part of the motivation was a need to make the business seem like a kinder, gentler place to work. But there was also the goal of convincing lawmakers and regulators they could trust the business to behave itself without excessive regulation. And communities had to be confident they weren’t downgrading the neighborhood by allowing a chain restaurant to move in.
The quest has assumed greater importance in recent months, a result of dynamics like unions targeting the business and young people balking at any sort of entry-level job, never mind restaurants. Anyone with a current crewmember vacancy should be annoyed by McDonald’s handling of its impending layoffs. They may be miffed if they lost traffic on the Day of Giving, but there should be at least a glimmer of admiration for countering the image of restaurants as greed dens that will do nearly anything for a buck.
One last thing about the situations to consider: There wouldn’t be a Day of Giving if Jersey Mike’s didn’t have Peter Cancro as its owner and CEO. The money that flowed to some 200 charities from Jersey Mike’s coffers are dollars that would otherwise find their way in Cancro’s pockets. But if you’ve ever met the man, you’ll know how much he prizes doing right by others.
I happened to be in Jersey Mike’s offices on a day two young unit managers had dropped in for an orientation on owning a store. Cancro had decided earlier to give them a restaurant, an extraordinary move that’s now been systemized into a standing program for the chain, like the Day of Giving.
The capper was the limo waiting outside for the new owners when their orientations had been completed. Cancro wanted the two Midwesterners to experience New York City, a two-hour drive away. The pair’s night on the town was Cancro’s treat.
The point isn’t that Cancro should be deified. Rather, he’s proof that one leader can make a bigger splash than most of us would expect from an individual. One individual, like you.