I’m here in Las Vegas for a conference where I just paid $7 for a cup of coffee and then was shamed into tipping another $1 to the server for pouring the coffee and handing it to me. Welcome to America. I feel like I’m tipping for everything, everywhere. And now it’s only going to get worse. And for that I blame President Trump.

Of course, our tipping culture was in place long before Trump took office. But now that his “no tax on tips” promise became law, our government is officially enabling it. That’s good news for tipped workers and for small-business owners who may feel less pressure to pay higher wages if their workers are getting enough gratuities. But at the same time, it’s bad news for the rest of us who will likely feel even more obligated than ever to tip.

What’s frustrating is that the tax benefits for tipped workers are not only over-hyped, they’re also temporary. Yes, workers can avoid getting taxed on their tips – but not all workers (see below) and not all their tips. If you’re eligible, you can deduct up to $25,000 of tip income each year and there are income limitations. Also, you won’t see that benefit until you file your year-end tax returns. You also still have to pay in to social security and Medicare taxes. And it’s estimated that as many as one-third of those employees eligible for this deduction will never use it because their income is so low they don’t pay any federal taxes anyway. Oh, and by the way, the deduction expires in 2028. So enjoy it while it lasts.

Also irritating is who’s eligible. The treasury department recently published a list of about 50 types of workers who can claim the tipped-wages deduction. Unfortunately, I wasn’t consulted. But if I were, then I would have been a little more particular.

For example, I would never include “digital content creators” as eligible tipped workers. Really? Now we’re tipping influencers? Like MrBeast needs more money? Given all the harm that social media has wrought on this world, it’s probably better not to encourage these people with tax incentives.

I was also surprised to see that electricians, plumbers and locksmiths who work in people’s homes are eligible for tips. These are licensed professionals performing a service. Many are independent contractors or freelancers who are quite capable of coming up with their own fees. And those who are employed aren’t cheap either. I’m not sure where the line is drawn. Should I also be tipping the staff of my accounting firm? My life insurance agent?

What exactly are “gambling and sports book writers and runners”? Who tips these people? I’m not a prude, but should we be enabling this industry in particular? Can the casinos not afford to pay these people enough?

I can’t imagine who would tip a private event planner, either. Event planners work for people who have enough money to pay for event planners. It seems silly to give these people a tax benefit for any tips on top of that.

Finally, why in the world would anyone want to encourage “self-enrichment teachers” with a tax-free tip? I would think the best way to enrich oneself is to pocket your extra money and not further enrich the self-enrichment teacher. What’s next, tipping the guy who mansplains how the infield fly rule works?

Now that I’ve listed some people who should be dropped from this benefit, it’s only fair to share a few who were unfairly left off. For example:

Postal workers. Every year we tip our postal worker. She provides a friendly, cheerful, daily service in rain, snow, sleet … well, you know the rest. Most of my friends do the same.

Flight attendants. They load bags. They carry babies. They walk around cabins during turbulence. They deal with jerks. And many don’t even start getting paid until the plane leaves the gate!

School teachers. I don’t understand why everyone wrings their hands over how to improve compensation for our teachers and yet there are no tax incentives for parents to tip them.

School bus drivers. Them, too.

Grocery store cashiers. All during Covid, while the rest of us stayed safely at home, watching Netflix and receiving our Amazon packages, the guy who ran the cash register at our local grocery store came in to work every day and did his job. His name is Emilio. Add him to the list, please.

If it were up to me, we’d be like the rest of the world and ban tips altogether. Instead of incentivizing people to tip, I’d tax tip income higher so employers would be forced to step up and just pay a fair wage. But that’s not reality in 21st-century America. So let’s just make this benefit permanent already instead of playing budgetary games and setting an expiration date near (surprise!) the next presidential election, so it can be a populist rallying point. Let’s also re-visit who is and isn’t eligible.

My final tip: when in Vegas, make your coffee in your room.

The Couple Renting a Home close to their Parents. But not too Close | The Tenant


In this episode of The Tenant, meet Sumeet and Preeti, a family of three living in a 2BHK apartment of 650 sq ft in Mumbai. Although they own their own home, they chose to rent here to stay close to their parents, who live just a few floors above. They share their daily Mumbai commute of 1.5 hours, managing work without WFH, and how their daughter is lovingly taken care of by grandparents. Learn about their decision to take an unfurnished 2BHK for more space, the rent and deposit details, and their approach to life—prioritizing experiences over things, like their 5th wedding anniversary trip to the Maldives. From packed local trains to choosing security and convenience, get a real glimpse into modern family living in Mumbai.

I don’t particularly enjoy analysing the habits of the ultra-rich. I would be happier if I didn’t have to think about them at all – and I apologise for making you do so – but in my defence, this is fascinating: a feature in the Financial Times reveals some have started selling up and living in motorhomes.

Obviously, they’re ultra-luxurious motorhomes. The owner of a private equity firm interviewed has a 30-tonne behemoth with air conditioning and high-speed internet, a kitchen, dining room, two bathrooms, a “spacious master bedroom” and “a range of modern hi-tech appliances”. Which, yes, sounds plusher than my in-laws’ caravan, but it’s still a massive shed on wheels. And you’ll never guess how much they cost: “around $2.7m” (£2m), apparently. Imagine the bricks-and-mortar house you could get for that – that private equity chap sold both of his – and you wouldn’t have to empty a toilet tank. (Maybe they outsource that somehow, but still.)

Weirder still, for long periods these wheeled vehicles and their occupants don’t move, despite that being, you’d think, the whole point. Instead, they park up – and imagine parking something 13 metres long, the horror – in places called things like Motorcoach Country Club but which sound like gussied-up trailer parks. Owners buy permanent plots with, the FT explains, “pools, covered patios, barbecue areas, fire pits, and small homes with living rooms and bedrooms”. So, hang on – you buy a giant, more-than-million-pound motorhome, then you don’t live in it, instead hanging out in a sort of small chalet structure with a view of your massive truck? I nearly lost my mind after I spent three days in Center Parcs; these plutocrats are spending months in the equivalent voluntarily, when they could be jetting off to some White Lotus-style resort to have their every whim indulged, or being heli-dropped at the top of a mountain to protect their peace.

It’s like a perverse reversal of Nomadland, the book and subsequent film that explored the lives of struggling Americans living peripatetically in vans from necessity after the 2008 recession. Are rich people so tired of luxury they’re doing this just to feel something? Is it a Common People socioeconomic tourism thing: if you called your real-estate broker, he could stop it all?

Initially I was, at most, mildly entertained by this – it’s just a microtrend, albeit a baffling one that seems to confirm my conviction that wealth is wasted on the wealthy. But then I read something else about ultra-high-net-worthers: they’ve started renting rather than buying property, with the number doing so tripling between 2019 and 2023 in the US, according to the New York Times. Something similar is happening in the UK, with high-end properties being rented and tenants potentially buying later once they’ve tested the water. The founder of the private car hire company Addison Lee, Sir John Griffin, has apparently put his place on the rental market for £75,000 a month.

At those kinds of prices, I’m sure none of them are dealing with black mould or unfairly retained deposits, but it’s still unexpected. I can’t imagine preferring transience and uncertainty over permanence. So why? As a real-estate broker told the New York Times, they’re “choosing flexibility and liquidity over ownership. They don’t want to be bothered with the inconveniences of home ownership, which includes paying real-estate taxes and insurance, especially in markets like Florida and California, where we’re seeing a lot of natural catastrophes.” “Flexibility is the name of the game in today’s market,” the Times confirms.

And, huh – perhaps that’s the explanation? In a world that feels dangerous and unpredictable, increasingly prey to “natural catastrophes” (and unnatural ones), the ultra-rich are learning from their hedge-funder friends and they’re hedging. They’re prepping for any eventuality, but with a luxe 30-tonne RV rather than a government-recommended grab bag. Maybe that’s the most important thing money can buy these days: the ability to get the hell out of Dodge at a moment’s notice.