Gig Workers Deliver CEOs and Sandwiches

Can you describe the growth of app businesses in Mexico?

In 2013, Uber was the first app-based company to enter Mexico — illegally. If caught, their drivers’ cars were taken to the impound lot. Uber filed an injunction to stop the impounding and won. It took a lot of lobbying, but they got permission to operate. Soon, ride service companies from other countries followed it into Mexico.

In 2015, gig work expanded to include motorcycles and bikes, mostly delivering food. Rappi, the massive app-based company from Colombia, entered. In 2016, Uber added on food delivery with Uber Eats; in 2019, China-based Didi ride service company expanded with Didi Foods. Over the last decade, the numbers of app-based workers have grown explosively.

The law imposed some regulations on the commercial aspect of these businesses — but not on the transporters’ working conditions! That’s why in 2020, we got organized and held our first assembly. We officially registered as a union in 2021.

What’s your experience as an app worker?

As a student, I began delivering pizzas and groceries for various apps. The flexible hours are attractive; you can both study and earn money according to your schedule. A lot of university students do this; all you need is a car, a motorcycle or a bicycle and a cellphone. Unemployment or simple desperation to earn some money motivated us.

The companies controlled us by saying we were their “associates” or “partners,” hired as individual contractors, not employees. It meant we had no collective rights. And these aren’t nice companies! An Uber CEO said in a speech, “Violence is necessary. It is better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” That’s their mode of operation.

The violence Uber predicted happened. Taxi drivers called us “dishonest competition” undercutting their jobs. Especially in tourist areas like Cancún, where tourists wait in line for rides at airports, actual physical fights broke out.

The companies themselves exerted another form of violence against the drivers. It was “my way or the highway.” If you didn’t do what they said, you’d be disconnected: no jobs. The companies set the rates, controlling the algorithms that maximize their profits and set driver conditions. We’re hostage to their dictates and to their computers.

How did you organize?

We started with mutual support through WhatsApp, Facebook and other online sites. We didn’t start with the idea of “union,” because not everyone wanted to be in a union; too much of the public equates unions with gangsters. But we introduced the fact that a union is the only tool we have to fight legally — you can’t fight as an “associate” or as a coop.

Many app workers, like me, drove as students and earned degrees. Our secretary general is a UNAM economist. But we insist on equality for all transport workers, whether delivering a CEO or a sandwich. No one is superior. One guy in Mexico, and I told this story at Labor Notes, said to me, “I’m an executive-class Uber driver” — these drivers have chauffeur licenses and luxury cars. I responded, “Don’t be an executive asshole!” In the end, we are all simply transporters.

We modeled our structure on the UAW in the US and the Mexican tradition too of one big union! We rejected a company-by-company model and also the craft model, which would separate car drivers from motorcycle and bike drivers. Organization is based on territory. Locals of many different kinds of app workers form and then affiliate with UNTA (National Union of App-Based Workers). Our structure has three tiers — local, regional, and national. At each level, members elect their own leadership. Not every state allows app-based companies to operate easily; we currently have members in five states.

Political education is vital to UNTA; that’s my job! We have a union school called Casa del Obrero Digital, and it includes a political education curriculum not just for members but for any worker. It’s important that we understand that our fight is not just for economic gains but to increase the power of the working class.

In 2022, we issued a manifesto, a platform that outlines the basic rights that app workers must have. The employer must provide us with the tools we use, such as backpacks, gas for our cars and motorcycles and safety equipment. It provides recourse for sexual harassment. Hours worked must be counted from the time you log in, not driving time.

Most importantly, we need protection of our personal data. One of our activist brothers got blacklisted; he logged on but wasn’t sent any jobs. The companies have access to our data; they shouldn’t be able to sell it or use it for any other purpose than sending us work.

Historically, this is the first platform that establishes basic gig worker rights. We recently participated in a meeting of the ILO (International Labor Organization). We believe that they incorporated one part of our manifesto into their international labor standards — our platform of basic rights will become the floor for app workers of the world!

How can you be a union when you are not “employees?”

Exactly! Our first priority was to make companies recognize us as employees. To be classified as an employee, you must be “subordinate” to a boss without control of your own work. The first person who helped us was Dra. Claudia Sheinbaum, then mayor of Mexico City. She supported our goal of having the same rights and benefits as other workers through inclusion in the Social Security system: pensions, access to housing funds, profit sharing and more.

Because of the nature of app work and our structure, for now, UNTA has focused on passing legislation, not on getting contracts. That will come later.

In 2024, we succeeded in getting a law passed, signed by President Sheinbaum, that established our status as employees, a major victory! But — the law falls short. It uses the wrong method for defining a gig worker as an “employee.” Rather than setting the standard by hours worked as we wanted, it sets the standard by earnings per month, which the companies and the government decided without our input.

If you drive a car, the law says you must make 18,000 pesos per month; if a motorcycle, 14,000 pesos, a bike, 9,000 pesos. The law does include a key provision we wanted — flexible hours set by the drivers themselves. But because drivers don’t work the same number of hours per month, it’s easy to fall short of meeting these earning thresholds. According to our calculations, only one out of ten delivery workers would qualify as an employee and, therefore, eligible for the government benefits provided to workers in other sectors. Whoever sets the law sets the trap. We gained something — and also fell into their trap!