Dinner at eight may cost more than dinner at six
A restaurant group would trial demand-based pricing across its digital menus, so the same plate could carry two prices in one evening. Nobody has asked the person who would have to explain this to a table of four.
Under a trial being designed by a mid-sized restaurant group, the price shown on the tablet menu would be recalculated by demand: covers already booked, walk-in traffic, the weather, a match starting at the stadium eight streets away. The same dish at 17:40 and at 20:20 would differ by an amount the group would describe as modest and the floor staff would describe as roughly the tip.
The technology is finished. What is not finished is the sentence. Someone has to say out loud, at a table where two adults have already read the price on the website and one child has already chosen, that the number changed between the pavement and the chair, that it changed for reasons nobody in the building can see, and that it will change back at half past nine.
“The menu would not be arguing with anyone,” a member of the floor staff at one of the pilot sites would point out. “I would be.”
Management would frame it as a discount rather than a surcharge, and would be technically correct. The early price would be presented as a reward for flexibility, the late price as the ordinary one, and the difference between these two framings would be entirely a matter of which number is printed first. The wording would be settled by a committee. The conversation would be held by a twenty-three-year-old on an eleven-hour shift.
The social sorting would arrive as a side effect and stay as a feature. Who eats at 17:30 — pensioners, people off an afternoon shift, families with small children who have to be in bed by eight — and who eats at 20:30 is not currently a question of money. A restaurant is one of the few rooms left where different incomes sit down at the same hour. Priced by the clock, they would stop doing that within a season.
There is a mechanical problem underneath as well. Service is charged as a percentage, so a peak price would quietly enlarge the service charge without anyone behind the counter moving faster, and would shrink it on the shift where the staff are covering empty tables. The pay of the person explaining the price would therefore be set by the same model, with none of the visibility and all of the blame.
Nothing has launched. Similar announcements elsewhere have drawn enough public reaction to be clarified within a week, which is why the most probable outcome is not cancellation. It is renaming.
If you liked this…
Holiday photos may soon need a label saying nothing was corrected
A transparency rule written for advertising would extend to ordinary posts, attaching an edit manifest to every image. The phone, which has been smoothing faces since the day it came out of the box, would have to say so too.
Your second flight of the year may need a reason
A consultation paper would give every adult one untaxed return flight a year. The second would still be available — at a surcharge, and with a dropdown menu in which a funeral, a wedding and a fortnight in the sun would have to be told apart.
Your winter coat may soon carry a passport
A product-passport scheme in preparation would give every garment a scannable record of its fibres, its factory and its repairs. The rule would work exactly as designed. The trouble would start with the coats that came before it.
Still laughing
We made it up. Then reality caught up.
What we wrote
We wrote it in 2021
One day the junior developer's main skill could be describing the problem clearly enough for the machine to solve it.
What actually happened
Reality caught up in 2025
AI coding assistants are built into mainstream development tools, and producing code from a plain-language description is now a routine part of professional software work.
Vendor product documentation and developer surveys on assistant adoption.
The joke was the job description. The job description was updated.
MISTAKE
TOMORROW, DELIVERED TODAY.
One email a week. The future, before it files a press release.
Worst case: you laugh. Best case: we predicted the future.
