Opinion: The Vending Machine Won’t See You Now

Phoebe Robertson

There is something uniquely humiliating about being bested by a machine whose primary intellectual task is to rotate a coil.

And yet, across campus, students are losing.

Last week, Salient ran an Instagram poll asking students whether they had ever paid a campus vending machine and received nothing in return. Of the 201 respondents, 159—nearly 80 per cent—said yes.

Read that again: nearly four out of five respondents say they have inserted money, tapped a card, or hovered a phone with hope in their hearts, only to be rewarded with absolutely nothing.

A follow-up poll asked those who had lost money whether they received a refund. Of 167 respondents, 141—84 per cent—said no.

Now, yes. This was a voluntary Instagram poll. It is self-selecting. It is not a scientific instrument. Students who have been personally victimised by a vending machine may have been more motivated to respond than those who have not. We cannot claim these figures represent the entire student body.

But we can say this: more than 100 individual students reporting lost money without reimbursement is not a statistical blip. It is a large number that deserve acknowledgement. 

Students described feeding machines multiple times after an initial failed attempt. One reported that a fridge-style machine “didn’t work 3 times and took $15.” Another paid twice for a drink and received nothing either time.

“I paid $4 for a coke, didn’t get it, paid another $4 for a coke, STILL didn’t get one,” one student wrote.

Another said, “Put like $5 in for a canned coffee. No sign or anything that machine was broken :/ rip off.”

One described watching their snack stall mid-dispense: “There was like one little bit left for the spiral to go for my cookie… then stop.”

If you have ever stood there—staring at your suspended cookie, calculating whether shaking the machine constitutes a crime (law students please weigh in with your unofficial legal advice)—you understand the particular despair.

Certain machines were named repeatedly. The OGB common room. Pipitea campus. The drinks machine “outside the bubble.” The pull-the-door Coca-Cola fridge machines. One student called the OGB machine “cursed.” Another wrote, “That vending machine outside the bubble is a scam. Be wary.” A third declared, “I hate those pull-the-door drink vending machines. They NEVER work. I don’t trust them.”

Individually, the losses are small—often between $4 and $10. But collectively, they add up. If even a portion of the 159 students who reported being “ripped off” never received refunds, the cumulative total easily reaches several hundred dollars.

For students budgeting groceries to the dollar, that matters.

Vending machines operate under third-party contracts, and fault reporting details are usually printed on the machine itself—often in small font, often requiring follow-up emails or calls. Refunds technically exist. Practically, many students report that they do not.

“The Coca Cola fridge took 10 dollars from me and getting a refund was impossible!!” one student wrote.

Another said, “I requested a refund and they said no.”

Another brave soul explained, “I requested a refund and they said no and I had to bitch out some guy on the phone”.

No one expects vending machines to be paragons of technological brilliance. But we do expect them to complete the single task they advertise: money in, snack or drink out.

If more than 100 students can recount being short-changed by a plastic arm, the issue is no longer isolated. Whether the solution is better maintenance, clearer refund pathways, or tighter oversight of contractors, something needs to shift.

Because there is nothing quite like standing in front of a machine that has your money, your cookie, and absolutely no interest in giving either one back to you.