People who leave shopping carts in parking spaces instead of returning them typically display these 7 traits

Last weekend at the Whole Foods near Venice Beach, I watched someone leave their cart directly behind my car. Not near the corral that was literally three spaces away. Right behind my bumper. As I got out to move it, I found myself wondering what makes someone do that.

Turns out, there's an entire internet theory about this. The Shopping Cart Theory went viral a few years back, suggesting that whether you return your cart reveals your moral character. The idea is simple: returning a cart is easy, costs you nothing, and has no enforcement mechanism. You do it purely because it's the right thing to do.

But here's what interests me more than the theory itself. What traits show up consistently in people who don't return their carts? After years of observing this behavior at farmers markets and grocery stores across LA, I've noticed some patterns.

1) They struggle with delayed consequences

People who abandon shopping carts often have trouble connecting their actions to outcomes that aren't immediate. The cart blocking someone else's parking spot? That happens after they've left. The employee who has to round up carts in the rain? Not their problem right now.

This shows up in other areas too. These are often the same people who leave dishes in the office sink or don't refill the coffee pot. The consequences exist, they're just not immediate enough to register.

We all struggle with prioritizing immediate rewards over future outcomes to some degree. But some people have a harder time overriding that impulse.

2) They operate with minimal empathy

When I first went vegan eight years ago, I was that aggressive evangelist armed with factory farming statistics. I've mentioned this before but I genuinely thought if I just showed people enough evidence, they'd change. What I learned after alienating half my friends is that behavior change rarely comes from information alone.

The same thing applies to shopping carts. Cart abandoners aren't missing information. They know someone has to collect those carts. They just don't feel it enough to act differently.

These folks struggle to put themselves in other people's shoes. The store employee gathering carts in 95-degree heat? The parent trying to navigate a parking lot with kids while dodging abandoned carts? That emotional connection just isn't there.

3) They have an external locus of control

Here's something I picked up from reading about decision-making psychology: people generally fall into two camps. Those with an internal locus of control believe they shape their own outcomes. Those with an external locus think life just happens to them.

Cart abandoners usually fall into the second group. In their minds, they're not making a choice to leave the cart. The corral was too far. They were in a hurry. Someone else will get it anyway. It's always something outside themselves driving the decision.

This mindset shows up everywhere. These are the people who blame traffic for being late rather than leaving earlier. Who say they'd eat better if healthy food wasn't so expensive, without acknowledging the choices they do control.

Taking responsibility for small actions requires accepting that your choices matter. For some people, that's a uncomfortable truth.

4) They prioritize convenience above all else

I get it. We're all busy. I write from coffee shops around Venice because my apartment doesn't have the best setup, and I'm constantly optimizing my routine to save time. But there's a difference between being efficient and being selfish.

Walking 30 seconds to return a cart is mildly inconvenient. So is bringing reusable bags to the farmers market. So is composting. So is doing anything that benefits the collective at a tiny personal cost.

People who consistently choose their own convenience over community benefit reveal something about their value hierarchy. And look, I'm not saying you need to be a martyr. But if you can't handle a 30-second detour to make someone else's job easier, what does that say about how you move through the world?

My partner still eats pepperoni pizza, and I've learned that's okay. We all make different choices. But the ones who leave carts are making a specific choice: my time matters more than anyone else's experience.

5) They don't see themselves as part of a community

During the pandemic, I noticed something interesting. In my neighborhood, people started being more considerate. Returning carts. Holding doors longer. Acknowledging shared space.

Then things opened back up, and slowly, the cart abandonment crept back. Some people never maintained that sense of "we're in this together."

Cart returners understand they're part of an ecosystem. The grocery store isn't just a place they extract goods from. It's a shared space where everyone's small actions add up. When you see yourself as connected to your community, returning a cart isn't a chore. It's just what you do.

People who don't feel that connection treat public spaces like they're invisible once they're done with them. The parking lot, the hiking trail, the subway platform. They move through these places as isolated individuals rather than community members.

6) They make exceptions for themselves

I've heard every excuse. "I have kids in the car." "My back hurts." "It's raining." "I'm running late."

Sure, legitimate circumstances exist. But watch someone over time, and you'll notice that some people always have a reason. There's always something that makes their situation different, that exempts them from the social contract everyone else follows.

This is classic self-serving bias. We judge others by their actions but judge ourselves by our intentions. When someone else leaves a cart, they're lazy. When we do it, we had a good reason.

I learned this lesson hard during my early vegan days. I had a crisis moment at my grandmother's Thanksgiving when she cried because I rejected her food. I thought I had good reasons for being rigid. Turned out I was just being self-centered.

The people who always find exceptions for themselves reveal a pattern: rules are for other people. Social norms apply to everyone else. They're special.

7) They lack self-awareness

Here's what really fascinates me about cart abandoners: most don't see themselves as cart abandoners. They think of themselves as generally good people who occasionally, due to circumstances, happen to leave a cart.

This lack of self-awareness extends beyond parking lots. These are often people who describe themselves as considerate while regularly showing up late. Who say they're environmentally conscious while leaving lights on in empty rooms. Who claim to be team players while consistently creating more work for others.

Self-awareness requires honest reflection about the gap between who we think we are and what we actually do. That's uncomfortable. It's easier to maintain a positive self-image while ignoring the evidence that contradicts it.

The most considerate people I know are also the most aware of when they fall short. They notice when they're being inconsiderate and adjust. Cart abandoners either don't notice or don't care enough to bridge that gap.

Conclusion

Look, I'm not saying everyone who's ever left a cart is a terrible person. Life happens. Sometimes you genuinely have an emergency. Sometimes you're dealing with something that makes that 30-second walk actually difficult.

But patterns matter. The person who consistently leaves carts is probably showing you something about how they operate in other areas. They struggle with delayed consequences, lack empathy, avoid responsibility, prioritize their own convenience, feel disconnected from community, make constant exceptions for themselves, and lack self-awareness about their behavior.

The good news? These aren't fixed traits. I transformed from aggressive vegan evangelist to someone who can have dinner with meat-eaters without mentioning factory farming. My grandmother now makes one vegan side dish for family gatherings. People change when they decide to.

So next time you're standing in a parking lot with an empty cart, you have a choice. A small one, sure. But small choices reveal character. And character, over time, shapes the kind of person you become and the world you help create.

What does your shopping cart say about you?