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In a week when a federal labor rule went into effect making it easier for app-based gig workers to be classified as employees (with significant pushback), and a month after the largest-ever DoorDash, Lyft, and Uber driver strike, Zócalo and The James Irvine Foundation presented “What Is a Good Job Now?” In Gig Work. Part of a series exploring low-wage work across sectors in California, the conversation struck at (and in) the heart of the app-based gig economy: the Bay Area.

The panel took place at the New Parkway Theater in downtown Oakland and featured Sergio Avedian of The Rideshare Guy, Gigs CEO Allen Narcisse, and The Workers Lab chief research officer Shelly Steward. CalMatters economy reporter Levi Sumagaysay, who has covered gig work for over a decade, moderated.

“Uber did not invent freelancing,” Sumagaysay reminded the crowd at the outset of the night. Contract gig work stretches across industries, and has for a long time.

While the app-based companies did revolutionize the way independent contractors gig, with their easy-to-use interfaces, Steward reiterated Sumagaysay’s point. Whether arranged via an app or not, people have always been piecing together full- and part-time work.

“We talk about this idea of traditional work. This vision of a full-time career at one employer with a pension at the end,” said Steward, who researches the intersection of technology and work. “But that was never the norm. It was the norm for white men for a couple of decades in the middle of one century.” Recent technological developments and the modern gig economy have brought visibility to age-old issues for workers.

Narcisse, who worked at Lyft and served as general manager of UberEats, chimed in. Gigs, a company he founded in 2022, lists jobs with varying degrees of flexibility and skill levels, roles for baristas, cashiers, and delivery drivers alike. The point is to help gig workers find quality work. “We focus on the 86 million blue-collar workers in the U.S. and the opportunities they might seek,” he said.

The remaining panelist was Sergio Avedian, a driver with more than 10,000 rides under his belt who had built a following through his advocacy work and as a contributor to the podcast and website The Rideshare Guy. Sumagaysay asked him what the biggest concerns for gig workers are.

The complaints have been the same for the past three or four years, Avedian said: earnings, safety, and unjust firings. Not a day goes by where you don’t hear about a driver being carjacked, shot, or even killed, he said. And when drivers raise concerns—for example, about AI or self-driving cars replacing their jobs—they have no recourse through traditional HR departments and can be unjustly fired.

As for earnings, in 2016 Avedian brought in around $60/hour, which, he pointed out, is what a plumbing contractor might make. Since then, his paychecks have diminished.

Earnings, more and more, are dictated and controlled by the algorithms that app-based companies use to determine and set pricing, Avedian said. He noted that this kind of dynamic pricing is infiltrating many kinds of companies, even a burger chain like Wendy’s—for better or worse, but probably not to workers’ advantage.

These algorithms are related to the gigification of everything, Steward said. Technologies matching people to jobs and customers to services sound great. But if lowering worker conditions and increasing worker risk are necessarily part of the deal—or the whole point of the deal—that’s a problem.

So, why does Avedian continue to drive? Sumagaysay asked. “It’s a fun thing to do,” Avedian said. Besides the fact that he enjoys meeting people, the job has taken him to places in Los Angeles he’s never been, despite having lived there for over 30 years. But, ultimately, Avedian would not recommend anybody take on the gig of a rideshare driver. Yet he understands why people turn to this work.

“What matters is the conditions that they’re facing,” Steward said. Workers want substantial benefits and protections—access to parental leave and workers’ compensation. “This work fits into broader context where both W-2 employment and gig, rideshare, and independent contractor work are suffering a job quality problem.” In other words, bad W-2 jobs are forcing people to turn to rideshare jobs. “We need to lift the floor for all of that work, to give workers more agency and control in their lives.”

The battle has been going on too long, Avedian said, and legislators need to get involved. Lately he has been talking to CEOs and senior leaders of app-based rideshare companies and urging them to drive a mile in his shoes—not just as a PR stunt—and try to really understand the nature of the work.

Is there a happy middle, or a good model out there? Sumagaysay asked.

Avedian pointed to Seattle, Washington. There, a group of drivers created a non-traditional union, the Drivers Union, which got the ear of the city council and convinced it to pass the highest mandated rates for drivers in the country. The group gave up collective bargaining rights but received benefits like paid time off and sick leave. Drivers remained independent contractors, not employees, so many companies like Uber and Lyft came on board.

The work that drivers do is crucial to society, Narcisse said. They fill transportation gaps, including helping fellow hourly workers get to their own gigs. It is important not to lose sight of those bigger impacts of the industry.

As the conversation closed, questions poured in from the online chat and the in-person audience.

One participant posed a big question to Steward: What, then, is the future of work?

Her reply: “The future will be what people will make it.”

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By all accounts, the 29-year-old woman I interviewed was a successful freelancer. She described herself as an “arts worker able to support myself in New York.” When the pandemic started, she lost all of her gigs, but she was established enough that one of her clients gave her two weeks of severance.

As a member of what I have termed the “officially unemployed,” she qualified for, and received, unemployment insurance. The stability of weekly unemployment benefits was a stark contrast to the usual volatility of her career. It raised uncomfortable questions.

“Why am I doing this? Why shouldn’t I get a real job? That has benefits and other nice things that I can rely on, that I won’t have to gig work for the rest of my life,” she told me. “I imagine a real job being a 9 to 5, or something that’s regular and consistent, that has benefits that are connected to it, and maybe one day you’ll retire from it, and they’ll give you money for that. I don’t even know. I can’t even fathom it.”

For years, it’s been clear that the idea of what constitutes a “good job” is changing. For the baby boomers’ generation, it often involved a salary, a private office, paid vacation, regular raises, health insurance, and a 401k with a decent company match. For the parents of baby boomers—aka the “greatest generation”—a good job offered a pension instead of a 401(k), and crucially, was enough to support a family on one income.

Academics generally define a good job as one that pays well, offers opportunities for advancement, and allows for control over one’s work environment. Good jobs allowed workers to work from home during the pandemic and continue to offer remote opportunities. Bad jobs offer low wages, little in the way of benefits or opportunities for advancement, no autonomy, and no control over termination.

Yet, as I note in my new book, Side Hustle Safety Net: How Vulnerable Workers Survive Precarious Times, when many workers dare to dream about a better tomorrow, they don’t talk about a good job or a bad job. They just want a “real job.”

A real job can be a good job, but it doesn’t have to be. As one gig worker in my interviews defined it, a real job includes “full-time hourly work” that offers “benefits” and “more financial security.” As another worker explained, a traditional job meant “I’m going to get either the same amount of pay every week or just know that I have the same hours every week.”

The hundreds of gig workers I’ve interviewed over the last eight years utilize numerous synonyms in discussing a real job: “proper job,” “traditional job,” “a jobby career,” “a real person job,” and “a big girl job.” For all of the headlines proclaiming that the gig economy is the future of work, the fact is that a large majority of workers who have been doing this work—including freelancers and gig-platform workers—want full-time work in their future. A 2019 survey conducted by Axios and Survey Monkey found that 79 percent of respondents would rather have one stable full-time job than multiple jobs with the option to choose how and when they want to work.

As a 23-year-old New Yorker who had worked as a personal assistant, dog walker, and babysitter explained, “I don’t want to wake up one day and be 40 years old and still doing those types of jobs. I still want to have something proper going for myself.”

This lack of “real work” is not limited to rideshare drivers and food delivery workers, either. It is increasingly found in other fields thanks to shadow gig platforms that offer business-to-business staffing. Instawork places workers in 1099 jobs in restaurants, while AllShifts focuses on gig-based nursing jobs, and Roadie offers store delivery work. Even professional jobs aren’t free from app-based gig work thanks to Graphite, Catalant, and Business Talent Group, platforms that are used by almost all Fortune 500 companies, according to the Harvard Business Review.

For companies, the benefit of gig work is that it allows them to outsource risk to workers. Workers take on the risk of slow periods where a lack of demand can leave them scrambling for income, the risk of a platform “deactivating” them without warning or recourse, and the risk of occupational injury from hours spent driving or working in unsafe places. Workers also face the risk of sexual harassment or otherwise uncomfortable experiences with clients who think anything goes behind closed doors. And workers have found themselves hired for scam tasks or driving passengers engaged in criminally questionable activities.

In addition to these risks, for many workers, piecing together little jobs is not financially sustainable. Thirty-two percent of gig workers report it is very difficult to cover their expenses and pay their bills compared to 18% of W2 service sector workers.

There are efforts to make gig work into better gig work, such as New York City’s minimum wage for delivery workers, but few efforts to turn gig work into real work.

One exception is the California law known as AB-5, which required that workers be classified as employees if their work was a regular part of the company’s business. The goal of the law’s authors was that employers would reduce their reliance on independent contractors or 1099 workers, and instead classify those workers as employees—thus turning gig work into real work. But a myriad of exceptions managed to undermine the goal of the law. Then, Lyft and other gig economy giants spent $200 million convincing voters to adopt Proposition 22, which exempted platform-based gig workers from AB-5 rules (at least until the California Supreme Court rules on the legality of their exemptions).

Faced with these challenges, many gig workers attempt to create “real job” security and income stability through “polyemployment,” meaning working multiple jobs. Taking on multiple part-time or gig-based jobs is a way for workers to ensure that they always have some money coming in. Indeed, a recent report from H&R Block notes that millennials—who are now between 28 and 43 years old—average two jobs each, with “nearly one in three intending to work for an app-based company.”

But any temporary stability and security offered by such polyemployment is often a mirage. Job hunting continues to be a daily, if not hourly, activity as workers wait to be summoned by platform algorithms whose lack of clarity and transparency means that workers don’t know if work today means work tomorrow. Meanwhile, any technical difficulties they experience with the apps can lead to income losses.

There are solutions. One of the problems with AB-5 was that it was limited to California. Employers could—and did—simply shift their workforce to other states. A national equivalent to AB-5 would circumvent that option.

Another option would be to penalize companies when more than 20% of their workforce is classified as independent contractors. Companies that have frequent layoffs are required to contribute more to state unemployment insurance coffers. Why not do something similar for companies that rely more on gig workers? Gig work might not be exactly as precarious as unemployment, but it’s close.

Likewise, 401(k) plans are mandated by the IRS to be tested annually to ensure that they’re not just a wealth-building tool for the highest-compensated employees, but are beneficial to all employees. Similar tests—comparing the ratio of gig workers to employees—could be required to ensure that real jobs are available to everyone who works there.  If we don’t allow companies to hoard retirement savings for their senior employees, why should we allow them to hoard the “real jobs” themselves?

As for the unemployed arts worker in the opening vignette? She’s now a staff member at a local nonprofit. She has health insurance, paid time off, and a 401(k) with a match. She was one of the lucky ones. She got a real job. But she still freelances on the side.

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Rideshare driving can be the right job for the right person, but you should also know the drawbacks.

On and off for nearly 10 years I have been a rideshare driver for both Uber and Lyft here in Hollywood. I’ve worked early mornings, late nights, and around concert venues. I’ve even driven passengers around Coachella a couple of times.

I have seen many changes from both companies in that time, along with new laws that have drastically changed what picking up passengers in one’s personal vehicle is all about.

For example, it wasn’t long ago that drivers had no idea where the trip was going until the passenger was in the car and we started the ride on our app. Not only that, but canceling rides and declining rides frequently could get you tossed off the platform.

Today, the driver has more control. You can see where the trip is headed before you even accept a ride, and you can decline as many as you want with no blowback.

This is not because the companies took drivers’ needs into consideration. It’s because, in their quest to prove to regulators that drivers are not their employees, they were forced to stop acting like employers. If we’re independent contractors, that means they can’t punish us for when or where we work.

Never think for a minute that the giants care all that much about drivers, our safety, or our financial well-being. As drivers’ earnings continue to decline while earnings for the companies go up—as noted in a recent Forbes article—neither of the rideshare giants have shown much concern for drivers. Keep in mind that both companies have aggressively and publicly been working on ways to use robot cars to replace humans.

Most drivers last 90 days or fewer. It has been like that for years, and neither company seems interested in improving that churn because every day new drivers sign up. But that shouldn’t deter you.

One of the top reasons drivers love the gig is because you have the freedom to work when you want, and the ability to drive where you want to go.

Let’s say you’re a driver and you want to go up to Santa Barbara this weekend. Conceivably you could only accept trips heading north and get paid for the journey. Obviously, it will take longer to get to Santa Barbara than if you were driving just yourself. But the rides will more than cover the gas you’ll use, and you might even have some good conversations. Usually, passengers are wonderful.

Of the numerous tips I have for driver colleagues, the first is to be prepared. Have water and snacks for yourself. Have a phone charger that works on multiple devices—not just iPhones—for passengers. Have $20 in ones and fives in case someone wants to tip you in cash because you’re incredible and won them over.

Store a towel, barf bags, and a warm jacket in your clean trunk. Keep your gas tank at least half full, because you never know when someone might want to go far, quickly, in an offer you can’t refuse.

In over 8,000 trips I’ve driven, I’ve only had to stop for gas once. It wasn’t just embarrassing because it made me look unprofessional in front of the passenger. I learned that if you stop the car for more than a few minutes, Uber will call and text both you and your passenger to make sure neither of you are being assaulted. That’s well-intentioned, but annoying for everyone.

Avoid picking up people at bars or big parties. One of the worst things that can happen is that a drunk passenger gets sick. There are plenty of folks who need rides in your city and more than enough drivers. Choose wisely. If they come stumbling down the driveway needing assistance to stand upright, do not feel guilty jetting off before they get too close to the car.

Have a dash cam. Sometimes driving is wonderful and funny, but sometimes it’s scary and unsafe. Yes, these companies know where you and your passenger are, but in the heat of the moment you are nevertheless alone. Even if the dash cam only has a minute of video and audio, it will help if you need evidence that you did nothing wrong.

Meanwhile, you don’t really know the identity of that person in the back seat. Neither Uber nor Lyft require passengers to use their real names as their display names on the app, and “J” or “Baby” or “Junior” won’t be much help if you need to talk to the authorities after an altercation and they ask you the passenger’s name.

Watch informative YouTube channels like “The Rideshare Guy” and be sure to check out “Show Me The Money Club” videos where two experts discuss strategies and changes each week.

Take notes at the end of each day, and take a photo of your odometer/trip meter so at the end of the month you can write down how many miles you drove in a little journal for your taxes. You can write off a lot of things while driving (like your cellphone, music streaming subscriptions you play for the passengers, and water you might provide) but you definitely want proof, especially for mileage.

Another important tip is, ironically, to forget about tips. Passengers do not tip often, well, reliably, or in a predictable manner. Over the years, Uber has gone from encouraging passengers not to tip and pretending the tip was included to reluctantly adding a tip button to the screen.

It is so clear that if they are not getting a cut of something, they have zero desire to encourage it even if it means rewarding their best drivers. Uber and Lyft arrange billions of trips a year, but they have yet to show they care about the quality of those trips.

But you can still care. Have a clean car: Go to a car wash frequently and take a vacuum to the carpets, seats, and trunk. Have hand sanitizer for both you and your passengers.

Another thing to do is confirm with the passenger where the trip is going. You can do it casually as part of the conversation, but you need this info because it also confirms that the correct person is in your car. Yours might not be the only white Prius outside the Hollywood Bowl, and you don’t want the wrong person to put in their ear pods and fall asleep, only to leave you both very sad when you discover a half-hour later that you are far from where they wanted to be.

Final tip: I don’t talk about politics, sex, religion, tips, or drugs. Most trips are less than 30 minutes long. If they want to talk, let them do most of it. Talking about oneself is most people’s favorite thing to do. You’ll be shocked and delighted by what these strangers will tell you if you let them.

No matter where you are driving, you have a great opportunity to get paid to see parts of your city that you’ve never seen and to hear stories from the mouths of beautiful human beings who, collectively, have traveled the globe and have ended up with you. Let them sing their songs.

Which has been known to happen—literally—on some of the best rides I’ve had.

The post Tips and Tricks From an Uber Driver appeared first on Zócalo Public Square.

It would provide health insurance, naturally, and a retirement plan, sick leave, and injured worker and unemployment compensation. And it would be equitable and portable: A person working part time for a number of different companies would have access to robust benefits that travel with them from job to job.

The good news is that there is a way to design just that sort of safety net. The bad news is that the digital platform companies keep missing opportunities to make it a reality, even as the need for a true safety net for gig workers grows.

An explosion in app- and web-based businesses has left millions of US workers on shaky ground—turned into freelancers, temps, and contractors, even when they’re employed full-time or doing professional work. U.S. businesses increasingly maximize profits by hiring so-called “independent contractors” instead of regular W-2 employees, thus evading having to contribute to health benefits, Social Security, Medicare, unemployment, injured workers compensation, lunch breaks, paid sick days, and vacation leave, which regularly employed workers are legally entitled to.

Taking advantage of this “independent contractor loophole” lowers a company’s labor costs by about 30 percent, but leaves workers in a lurch and threatens to eviscerate the national employer-based safety net by stranding more workers without benefits. It’s well past time to construct a new kind of safety net that allows workers with multiple employers to get the support they need.

The latest missed opportunity came in California, home state of Uber and Lyft, where these multi-billion-dollar companies refused to negotiate seriously with the California state legislature over establishing good working conditions for their drivers, including a robust benefits plan. So the legislature passed California Assembly Bill 5 (AB5), the most progressive labor law enacted in the U.S. in decades, over the objections of the ride-hailing companies. That prompted Uber, Lyft and DoorDash to spend more than $200 million, a record amount of money on a ballot initiative, Proposition 22, that purported to help workers but mainly enacted rules that will allow the companies to wriggle out of complying with AB5, as well as recent adverse court decisions.

Companies like Uber and Lyft are well aware of proposals to build better benefits systems. Following the publication of my book, Raw Deal: How the “Uber Economy” and Runaway Capitalism Are Screwing American Workers in 2015, I was asked to meet with high-level executives at both ride-sharing firms. A central part of the discussions was my proposal for an “Individual Security Account,” a portable safety net for drivers and for other types of freelance workers.

My idea was that each worker would have a mandatory, government-regulated Individual Security Account, and that any business that hires a worker would contribute an amount pro-rated to the number of hours worked for that business. The worker would then use those funds to pay for safety net needs such as health care, Social Security, sick leave, injured worker and unemployment compensation. Instead of pitting flexibility against security—making a gig worker choose between the work they want and the benefits they need—a portable safety net based on this kind of an “hours bank” system would allow for both.

Such a system would be a significant advance for the U.S., which lags other major nations in providing health care and other social supports. In effect, such a system would modernize the old New Deal support system, which over decades created a system of federal and state supports based on a worker’s employment for a specific employer. Employers became the administrative agent for this comprehensive system, both contributing their fair share into the various social insurance funds for each worker and deducting each worker’s share from their paycheck. This was not a government handout; it was earned benefits paid for by both the employee and their employer.

Transitioning to a benefits structure that isn’t tied to a single employer would be a major shift for the U.S.; fortunately, we already have a working model that can be adapted. “Multiemployer plans,” often overseen by labor unions, collect benefits contributions from more than one employer, operating like an insurance plan by pooling risk and taking advantage of economies of scale to distribute benefits to member workers.

Crucially, multiemployer plans allow mobile workers to earn and retain benefits even as they change employers or jobs, avoiding interruptions in coverage. The Screen Actors Guild, the Service Employees International Union, and the Teamsters all manage these kinds of plans, which are well-suited to serve carpenters, plumbers, and other tradespeople who work for multiple businesses throughout the year. Many actors and directors also are covered by such plans. The Individual Security Account, as I envisioned it, would fill in the gap when there is no labor union to coordinate contributions.

President Barack Obama endorsed my idea in his 2016 State of the Union address. Around the same time, 40 business, government, labor and NGO leaders—including the co-founders of Lyft, Logan Green and John Zimmer—signed a statement of principles calling for a portable safety net as a foundation for the future of work in the 21st-century economy. Uber CEO Dara Khosrowshahi also called for enacting a portable safety net plan. In New York, companies set up a Black Car Fund that collects a 2.5 percent passenger fee on every Uber and Lyft trip to provide ride-share drivers with an injured worker compensation benefit.

So it seemed like we had the makings of a win-win solution. But in 2017, when legislative bills were introduced for portable safety nets in the states of Washington, New York, and New Jersey, Uber and Lyft came to the bargaining table with state legislators offering less than pocket change (more like pocket lint). Rather than contributing 20 percent of a worker’s wages—the bare minimum necessary to fund an adequate safety net according to federal actuarial tables that track US worker benefits—Uber and Lyft offered to contribute 2.5 percent. And they wanted contributions to be voluntary. Labor unions and their legislative allies understandably rejected this meager offer. In all three states negotiations collapsed, and the legislation died.

When legislation was proposed in California, Uber and Lyft once again countered with a paltry portable benefits package. Without a serious offer from the ride hail companies, the California legislature overwhelmingly passed AB5, which attempted to solve the problem by reclassifying drivers as employees rather than independent contractors. That law went into effect on January 1, 2020, but Uber and Lyft refused to implement it, leading to multiple lawsuits by the Attorney General of California and other California agencies, and legal judgments against the ride hail companies.

One study found that if their California drivers had been classified as employees rather than contractors these last five years, Uber and Lyft would have paid more than $400 million into the state unemployment insurance fund alone. Instead, California taxpayers have had to foot the bill for the significant wage and benefit gaps created by these companies and their crummy gig jobs. For example, since drivers’ wages are so low (after deducting their expenses), many can’t afford health care premiums and end up in hospital emergency rooms. The public purse ends up paying for that.

Why can’t these multibillion-dollar companies, rich enough to spend hundreds of millions of dollars on a ruinous ballot measure, do better by their workers?

The answer is that Uber and Lyft are in huge financial trouble. They continue to lose billions of dollars every year. Profit margins are inherently low in the taxi business, and their predatory business model subsidizes more than half the cost of every ride in a bid to boost market share and undercut competition. Traditional taxi companies and livery drivers have been pushed to the edge of bankruptcy, and airport shuttle companies have been driven out of business.

Public transportation has suffered, too. Even before the COVID pandemic, public transit ridership in most major cities had declined, as commuters opted for the 50 percent company-subsidized Uber and Lyft rides over the mass ridership experience. One of the most ambitious studies of ridesharing impacts, conducted by researchers at the University of California, Davis’ Institute of Transportation Studies, found that ridesharing results in a dramatic rise in the number of trips made and miles driven in automobiles, as well as a pronounced reduction in the use of mass transit. The study found that if ride-hailing had not been an option for users, approximately 61 percent of trips would not have been made at all, or would have been accomplished via transit, bike, or foot. Add that to the “dead heading” miles that passenger-less Uber and Lyfts are racking up, and the researchers conclude that ride-hailing is boosting Vehicle Miles Traveled (VMT) in cities. All of that contributes greatly to increases in traffic congestion and carbon emissions.

Certainly for the approximately 20 percent of city-based adults who have used Uber and Lyft’s subsidized rides (most of them younger, college-educated, better-off Americans, who use the services twice as much as less-educated, lower income people), this transportation option has been helpful. But for the vast majority who ride on the bus or drive personal vehicles stuck in Uber-congested traffic, ride-hailing’s legacy has been decidedly negative.

With Prop 22, the companies have now legislated into existence another miserly version of a portable safety net, along with a face-saving attempt at a minimum wage. For example, the value of Proposition 22’s offered health benefit has been estimated at about $1.20 an hour—well below the $4 to $6 value of benefits mandated for employees under state and federal laws. And many drivers would not be able to afford their share of the offered health care premiums, which would range from 20 to 60 percent.

Proposition 22 also appears to offer to drivers a new hourly minimum wage of at least $16.80 per hour. But if you read the fine print, a complex formula will be used in which only “engaged hours” (when the driver has a passenger in the car) will be counted as hours worked when calculating the minimum wage. All the downtime waiting for the next fare, or disinfecting cars between rides, or driving back from a remote drop-off location, will not be counted as hours worked.

A driver might put in 10 hours in a shift but only have a passenger for five of those hours. If the driver earns $100 in that shift, that would amount to only $10 per hour—less than California’s legal minimum wage of $12 per hour. Yet the Prop 22 formula will calculate that wage as $20 per hour.

A study by the University of California-Berkeley’s Labor Center found that, under Prop 22, many drivers could earn as little as $5.64 an hour, not even half of California’s minimum wage.

None of Prop 22’s offerings come close to what drivers would receive if voters had rejected the initiative and drivers had remained regular employees instead of independent contractors (and the companies had complied with AB5). Even worse, Proposition 22, if it survives likely court challenges, will lock in these serf-like conditions, since it will require an unprecedented seven-eights vote by the state legislature to change it.

Uber and Lyft are their own worst enemies. They entered the taxi business 10 years ago, breaking every law in the books, motivated by the Silicon Valley philosophy of “move fast and break things.” Well they broke it, and now they can’t figure out how to fix it. The CEOs talk a good game, saying they are “ready to do their part.” But they are hamstrung by their own unprofitable business model, which has also turned out to be bad for many of their drivers, for traffic congestion, for the environment, and for transportation. How much longer can society afford to allow this business model to continues?

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