The ‘McDonald’s Cult’ workers on the assembly line

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A while ago, some people joked that McDonald’s had become like an emotionless ‘middle-aged man’—no longer brimming with childhood innocence or youthful vitality, but transformed into a lifeless canteen for corporate drudges. Yet, in truth, McDonald’s has never lacked for ‘beasts of burden’. I was surprised to find that, including myself, we seem so familiar with McDonald’s that we treat it as nothing more than a black box that rapidly produces fries and burgers. While waiting anxiously in queue, we can see blurred, busy figures through the transparent kitchen specifically designed by McDonald’s, but our gaze always remains fixed on the food, blind to the lived reality of the workers.

◉ On 8 October 1990, mainland China’s first McDonald’s opened on Guanghua Road in Shenzhen. At that time, McDonald’s represented a vibrant, modern lifestyle to the Chinese people. Source: McDonald’s official website
Consequently, while living in the Jing’an District of Shanghai this April, I felt a desire to investigate the labour conditions within the fast-food industry of this modern metropolis.

I. A shared life severed by the assembly line

I spent four or five days cycling around, asking every chain restaurant within a three-kilometre radius if they were hiring; many of the responses were unfriendly. It wasn’t until I met the assistant manager, Xiao Lao W, at this particular McDonald’s, that things changed. He handed me a cola and sat down to talk. During our conversation, a typical Shanghai ‘auntie’ was shouting at the front counter, though it was unclear what she was complaining about. Xiao Lao W glanced at her but ignored her, continuing to speak with me earnestly. This was the moment I felt most valued during those few days. I drew a tarot card—the Six of Cups—and decided to join this restaurant. After spending 150 yuan on a medical check-up for my health certificate and buying my own black trousers and black leather shoes, I started as a part-time employee. All new staff are required to do a four-hour trial shift during the busiest period; Xiao Lao W told me to let him know if I couldn’t hack it. There is no pay during the trial, but you receive a 40-yuan voucher. The wage for a standard employee is 19 yuan per hour, rising to 21 yuan only after completing a thousand hours—which is 4 to 5 yuan lower than in the manufacturing sector.

For the first half-month after joining, I was proactive in looking for work, heading wherever the station was busiest. For a time, I felt that I was working for my colleagues—to alleviate their exhaustion—which at least gave me a sense of meaning and connection to others.

For example, I asked Sister Jing to teach me how to make burgers; seeing me return constantly, she would proudly call me her ‘apprentice’. In the coordination between shift handovers and product preparation, I could also feel the friendship of my colleagues through notes, glances, and smiles. Such collective labour can bring us positive energy and emotion, much like life itself.

However, in many fast-food chains, these elements are suppressed. To provide customers with efficient service and standardised, predictable products, the human element must be eliminated. The process of food preparation is broken down into an assembly line consisting of simple, repeatable steps.

The roles in the store are divided into five sections: the burger area, the fried sides area, the fries and plating area, the drinks and takeaway area, and the McCafé station. The distribution of these roles is determined by the location of the machinery, and staff rarely cross between areas. Our store typically has only five or six employees working simultaneously, each of whom must hold their fixed position to ensure the assembly line runs smoothly. I was assigned to the drinks and takeaway area.

◉ Compared to a manufacturing factory, although the McDonald’s back-kitchen is a cramped space, it is composed almost entirely of automated machines and electronic equipment.

Producing each individual item is actually very simple because the stock arrives as semi-finished products. Taking the Cheeseburger as an example: once Sister Jing sees the order on the screen, she puts the bun into the toaster; after a dozen seconds, the bun drops down, signalling it is toasted. Then, following the regulations, she squeezes on the sauce, adds the pickle, the pre-toasted beef patty, and a slice of cheese, and a standardised Cheeseburger is complete.

◉ During a peak period, employees at a McDonald’s store are urgently preparing burgers. Source: Xiaohongshu user @大黄跟小展还有阿铭
The fried sides area is the sole responsibility of Old Qin. All the deep fryers come with built-in timers; there is a standard frying duration for every product, corresponding to different buttons on the timer. You simply put the food in and wait for the alarm. Fries are generally handled by the plating staff due to the proximity. Preparing drinks and packing takeaways can be split between two people, as can the plating area. I wanted to understand the work at every station as much as possible, but the shift manager, Xiao Hua, and Xi Yangyang saw me running around and told me to stand still in front of the drink machine; whenever they saw me idle, they would order me to collect rubbish or replenish stock. Gradually, I began to be on guard for their commands, subconsciously predicting their instructions.

As a result, I could only focus on my specific division of labour, and this division built a thick barrier between us.The burgers, which taste identical across the country and in every city, are actually maintained by severing the shared life of us workers.

Furthermore, although this work seems simple, it is so tedious and monotonous that it actually drains one’s energy. Many times, I felt as though my eyes were watching my hands and feet navigate the machines; my hands told my brain to shut up, for any stray thought would jam the machinery. From 7 am to 10 am, the distance felt terrifyingly vast; I felt as though I were moving on my knees, and from one end of time to the other, only the clock watched my every move.

After more than half a month, the wages I received totalled just over 1,700 yuan. My schedule was five or six hours a day, five days a week, with occasional leave. If I worked eight hours a day every day of the month, the pay would be around 4,500 yuan.

II. The dread of order surges on rainy days

The store’s business follows a regular pattern. Usually, in-store orders and takeaway orders are balanced, both around 300 orders. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday are generally the quietest days, while Thursday through Sunday are extremely busy. Order volumes are highest during public holidays, yet there are fewer staff than on ordinary days. During the May Day holiday, I heard from Zhang Di, an underage colleague who had worked there for a long time, that there were only three of them in the store. On Children’s Day, 450 takeaway orders were sent out. I cannot imagine how they managed to endure it. If a public holiday coincides with a rainy day, the scene is most horrific. The POS terminal spits out orders frantically, and the speed at which I prepare drinks cannot keep up. And I am not slow; I was already trying to prepare two or three cups at once.

◉ Gazing at a screen full of drink orders, almost every McDonald’s worker feels they are at a breaking point.

What was most terrifying was the way the delivery riders would shout and demand, “Why has it taken half an hour and it’s still not ready!” Behind them, the delivery platforms were cracking the whip. Opposite the delivery lockers, they huddled together in their raincoats, shoulder to shoulder; beneath their calm facades, they had already reached a breaking point. The scene inside the store was just as chaotic, with colleagues yelling to ask if items were in stock, where the chicken patties were, or how much longer the fries would take.

Customers stood or leaned against the front counter, their eyes fixed on us. In those moments, I felt a sense of desperation: what if we ran out of Oreo crumbs? What if the anti-spill lids for hot drinks ran out? What if syrup spilled all over the table? I didn’t have a single second to spare to deal with any of it.

During an order surge, neither the riders nor the staff dared to make the slightest mistake, as if every single movement were a matter of life and death. None of us dared imagine what would happen if we couldn’t keep up. Would the customers go hungry? If any one person faltered or broke down, the entire production line would collapse. Then, everyone in the system would lose their “lives”: the riders would be penalised by the platform, and our store would lose all its credibility.

As soon as the rain stopped, the volume of orders would plummet. This contrast was what I resented most: for the customers, it was simply a matter of paying five pounds to have someone else stand in the rain for them. The manager would say that burgers sold well today, and even the detached Lao Qin would remark that business was good. It left me feeling dazed. What exactly is “good”? Is being overwhelmed with orders “good”?

◉ The POS machine is like a weather forecast; when it suddenly begins spitting out orders in rapid succession, you don’t even need to look to know it’s likely raining outside.

III. “Let them stir it themselves!”

Xi Yangyang, the shift manager, is leaving soon. He has suffered a series of demotions, falling from Hygiene Supervisor all the way down to shift manager; he says only someone with a truly positive mindset could endure such things. His opposite is Lao Qin, who handles the fried chicken; the two have completely contrasting personalities. In his fifties, Lao Qin is deeply interested in his colleagues’ trivial gossip, yet he is absent-minded regardless of the task at hand, as if nothing in the world is truly urgent. On the day Xi Yangyang announced his resignation, he shouted at Lao Qin: “I’m miserable every day I work with you!”

Lao Qin is fond of another shift manager, Hua Hua. Her real name is Xiao Hua, a woman in her thirties who is already married. She had worked in her hometown to put her daughter through school before coming to struggle in Shanghai. She is also leaving soon to return home, as her daughter is about to take her high school entrance exams. Lao Qin said he wanted to see her off—not all the way home, of course, but at least to the railway station.

Xiao Hua is petite with a high ponytail, looking efficient and businesslike without being stiff. Judging by the speed at which she assembles and packs orders, she is the most efficient worker among us. Her most frequent phrase is “How annoying!” She is most irritated by customer complaints, by Lao Qin forgetting to restock, or by the warehouse running low. I feel as though she actually plays the role of the matriarch. When other family members can’t cope and are at their wits’ end, isn’t that precisely when the matriarch needs to step in?

Making a McFlurry requires using a wooden spoon to stir the Oreo crumbs evenly. When she saw me doing this, she looked irritated and said, “Right, right, give it here—let them stir it themselves!” It was as if the customers were common enemies we had to face together, and we, the employees, were the true family. Her hostility towards customers became even more apparent when handling complaints. “What’s the point of all this rushing!” Only she would say such a thing, though she would still swallow her pride and take the complaint calls in a polite tone.

In contrast, the assistant store manager, “Xiao Lao W”, seemed much more relaxed and humorous. He is the only person in the store with a fixed salary, which is linked to turnover and store performance. Consequently, any food I sneak or waste is charged to his account. Colleagues would tease him, saying “Let Xiao Lao W treat us,” but he didn’t seem to mind our waste at all. When I accidentally made an extra soft serve, he would take it and say, “I suppose I’ll reluctantly eat this then!” He would also joke around with Sister Jing using the bubble machines we sell. When hit with a massive order that had to be completed, he would play the victim: “You’ve got a man in his thirties working like a beast of burden; a beast can at least eat grass, but I’m just doing the grunt work.” Indeed, even as the assistant manager, he was just another unit of labour when in the store.

IV. Escaping “Crazy Thursday“

One thing that surprised me immensely was that half the staff in the store were “refugees” from KFC. This included Sister Jing, her daughter Sun Jing, and Xiaohua—all of whom had worked at KFC. Some employees even drifted between these two monopolies, working at KFC during the day and coming to McDonald’s for a part-time shift after they finished. Whenever I mentioned KFC, they would erupt in a torrent of abuse, claiming KFC “tosses you aside once you’ve served your purpose”, that “not a single one of them is a decent human being”, and that it was “like being in prison”.Sun Jing (who was a minor when she worked at KFC) said that KFC was incredibly harsh about “squeezing hours”. By “squeezing hours”, she meant that the total weekly labour hours for a store are fixed, and employees have to fight over them. Because the total allocated hours are limited, the store manager must assign a tiny number of staff to handle a massive workload. She said she was often stationed at the front counter alone, responsible for: making drinks, frying chips, preparing dine-in orders, packing takeaways, and prepping deliveries. I have done all these roles, but juggling them all at once is a level of intensity I find unimaginable.

◉ This KFC in Shanghai is “slammed with orders” every Thursday; there are crowds as far as the eye can see. Source: Xiaohongshu
“Crazy Thursday” is terrifying for every KFC employee; every single time the orders explode and they are shorthanded. She told me: “The whole screen is crowded with orders—four full pages of them!” I did the math: 32 orders in total, which she had to complete alone before a new wave of orders came crashing in. Without any pay rise or extra staff, employees are still expected to sell gift cards and promote the app. Furthermore, KFC assigns people specifically to monitor the CCTV to see if any staff are idling or just standing around. As for “tossing you aside once you’ve served your purpose”, she meant that as soon as the peak season ends, KFC immediately slashes its headcount.

V. My Obsession with Leftovers

Over the course of this month, I spent my time sneaking chicken nuggets. I often reflected on this, and on my obsession with leftover food. Ever since I heard that my friend Xiaoshu used to sneak food with his colleagues, I began regularly stealing nuggets from the warming cabinets, eating five or six a day. I ate other things too—chips, chicken strips, cheese slices, fish fillets, purple potato balls, and so on. I drank so many sugary drinks that eventually, just the thought of one made my head swim. I began to wonder: did I actually enjoy eating them, or did I just enjoy the act of “stealing”?

My analysis was that I fantasised these things belonged to me because I was the one labouring here; or rather, I felt I had been cheated, and I needed to steal to compensate myself. Yet, while I was sneaking food, my stomach problems never let up. After eating the nuggets, I felt nothing but nausea; the sight of anything greasy or any sweet drink made me feel sick.

In fact, we were entitled to one staff meal every Saturday, and that was when I was happiest. It wasn’t about the food itself, but the feeling that there was finally a legitimate way for the things we produced to be returned to us for free. In short, I believe my sneaking food was a way of resisting the separation between the fruits of labour and the labour itself.

On the other hand, I felt pity for the food. Once the store closed, it was all thrown away, with nothing left for the staff. I saw the manager throw burgers into the bin many times because they had been sitting too long. I would ask if I could have them, but the manager would say they had gone hard and were inedible.

◉ Chips and burgers frequently thrown into the bin. Supposedly, this stems from McDonald’s tradition of improving efficiency by predicting customer demand; food is prepared before the customer even orders. If a burger remains unsold for more than 10 minutes or chips for more than 7 minutes, they are binned.

I simply could not accept this practice of throwing food away rather than sharing it with the staff or their families. Sometimes, seeing plenty of spicy wings left over at the end of a shift, I would find a way to take a pair home. Once, some fried eggs had been left too long to be used; thinking they were bound for the bin, I stuffed two into my mouth and tucked another into a bag in my pocket. After finishing the three, I felt a wave of nausea in my stomach again.

Here, food is produced not to satisfy hunger, but for the sake of efficiency—to realise its exchange value. At any time and in any place, the fried chicken and burgers we make must be exchanged for a set price; otherwise, they are tossed into the bin.

◉ The store has strict regulations regarding staff meals and the disposal of leftovers.

Once, while clearing tables, I saw a man leave behind a whole table of food: several of the most expensive burgers, pineapple pies, and chips. He had broken some open to look at them, but the pineapple pies were still in their wrappers, untouched. I found it incomprehensible, yet I could do nothing but clear the table. But as I went to dump them in the bin, I felt it was such a waste that I retrieved the bag. I hesitated for a long time, not daring to eat them, wondering: what if they were poisoned? Even after eating them, I felt anxious, spending a long while wondering if I was going to die.

I kept wondering: what does this obsession with leftovers actually signify for my identity as a worker? I also wondered if, after leaving this place and returning to McDonald’s as a customer, the burger would taste different. What would I feel, seeing the busy figures of staff members I have never met?

Foodthink Author
Qingtai Yinwu (same handle across all platforms)
“First and foremost, all investigation is self-investigation.”

 

 

 

 

Unless otherwise stated, all images in this article were provided by the author

Editor: Yuyang

Published by Foodthink