What began as a simple question about parking fines and Nectar points has grown into a much bigger conversation about accessibility — and how supermarkets are quietly making life harder for older and less mobile customers.
I didn’t set out to become a persistent letter writer. I just wanted to understand why my mum had been fined for taking too long to shop, and why she could no longer redeem her Nectar points at a staffed till. But once I shared my experience on Nextdoor, the response was revealing. Some older shoppers told me they’re comfortable with the current parking limits or with using digital systems. A few liked the introduction of the SmartShop option, for example, allowing you to scan and bag items yourself as you progress through the shop. But many others shared experiences that paint a very different picture, describing problems like broken lifts, unreliable travelators, disappearing staffed checkouts, confusing store layouts, and a creeping sense that supermarkets are being redesigned for speed and smartphones, not for people.
So, I wrote to Sainsbury’s CEO. I asked clear, practical questions and hoped for transparency and a bit of common sense. The reply I received was polite but evasive. So, I followed up, restating the questions they hadn’t answered. And then came the second response, shorter, sharper, and even less engaged. Positively dismissive in fact.
Here’s what I learned.
1. There is no policy for customers who can’t use digital systems.
Sainsbury’s confirmed this outright. No policy. No plan. No framework. Just “ask a colleague”.
In other words: accessibility by improvisation. And improvisation is not a strategy, especially when it affects some older customers who already feel left behind by the pace of digital change.
2. Staffed tills are not guaranteed.
The official line is that if you want one, you can ask. But asking is not accessibility. Asking is a barrier.
It requires confidence, mobility, and the willingness to advocate for yourself in a busy store, all things that become harder with age or disability. And it ignores the reality that many customers simply won’t ask, even when they need help.
3. Accessibility concerns were brushed aside.
Lift reliability? Travelator failures? Tills placed at the far end of the store? All reduced to a single sentence: “They are maintained regularly.”
That’s not engagement. It’s dismissal.
These aren’t abstract concerns — they’re real obstacles that make shopping physically difficult for many people.
4. “Data protection” was used as an excuse not to answer basic questions.
I didn’t ask for personal data. I asked who is responsible for accessibility compliance. Apparently, that’s confidential. It’s a baffling response, and a revealing one.
5. Sainsbury’s has now closed the conversation.
Their final line was: “If you remain unhappy, please seek your own advice.”
So, I will. Not because I enjoy complaining. Not because I’m looking for a fight. But because this isn’t just about me.
It’s about every older shopper who feels rushed, confused, or excluded. Every customer who doesn’t own a smartphone. Every person who just wants to buy groceries without navigating a digital obstacle course.
Sainsbury’s may have closed the door, but the conversation is far from over.
I’ll be taking this further — and I’ll keep you posted.