On the occasions that I have eaten at self-service eateries, I have noticed that people tend to draw a whole stack of napkins from the common dispenser on their way to the dining table. Oddly, anticipating our future needs (for napkins, among other things) seems to be a hazy affair. We think we’ll end up sloppy, messy eaters, and therefore pull an inordinate amount of napkins just in case we make a sorry mess of ourselves. We tend to lapse on the side of overestimation.

The common case is, of course, that most of us somehow manage to feed ourselves with some form of respectability. The ugly consequence: an unused stack of napkins left on the table after someone leaves. It seems untouched, but should it be returned to the common stack for the next customer? (I’ve seen a busboy at a sandwich chain do just that: transporting a unused stack of napkins from a cleared table to the sandwich pick-up point. A seemingly innocuous way to “cleanse” the napkins; from being “left behinds” to “ready to use”.)

Our expectations of hygiene products are byproducts of our fear of germs. Heaven forbid public silverware be left exposed in common stands and susceptible to multiple hand brushings. Who knows where those hands have been? And thus, we end up with individually wrapped drinking straws, plastic forks and knives; each set comes with our peace of mind hermetically sealed in.

Sustainability is a noble goal, but in the context of public silverware, cleanliness is still next to godliness. However, it serves no purpose to think of sustainable hygiene as an oxymoron. The question is, how do we design around human behavior (reaction to fear) and expectations (overestimating future needs) to set change in motion?

This past weekend when I was at the dining area of a grocery chain, I noticed a change on the tables. Each table is now outfitted with its own napkin dispenser. Rather than a “take what you need” tagline at a distant dispenser, individual napkin dispensers subtly encourages diners to take as the need arises, and helps people to sidestep their inability to accurately predict their future needs. A simple idea, but one that puts psychological ease to the champions among worry warts.