by
TS DeHaviland
Let's
do a little thought experiment. Let's pretend it's before the
Internet was really a “thing,” perhaps the late 1970s or early
1980s.
A
group of entrepreneurial upstarts who are upset with the high cost
and relative difficulty of finding cabs decide to do something about
it. They run ads in local newspapers for a new directory of
individuals willing to give cheap rides in their own, private
vehicles at a moment's notice.
Thousands
of laid-off blue-collar workers and bored housewives sign up. The new
guide, let's call it “Ridebook,” is inexpensively printed and
made available in airport, railway and busline newsstands for a
dollar apiece. A weary traveler has merely to buy the most recent
book, drop a dime in a pay phone, and be on his way.
This
hypothetical is merely a way to demonstrate that Uber, Lyft, and
Sidecar are not actually technology companies. The hypothetical model
I just presented could be done with a few people with IBM Selectrics,
a few multi-line phones, and a Rolodex. While Ridebook would be a
little more clunky, and users would have to go through a few numbers,
perhaps, before they found someone who was at home beside the phone,
there's no online component needed to do it, no cell phones or slick
apps required.
So
if these companies aren't really technology companies, what are they?
They do, of course, use new
technologies: certainly the use of smart
phones and web-apps
has created the occasion for these companies' founders to think them
up; such concepts are easier when the path is more convenient and
clear.
But,
as our hypothetical implies, Uber, Lyft, Sidecar, and companies like
Airbnb are
really companies that exploit the declining incomes of the middle
class and the use of remaining middle class material possessions. You
may not have the job you once had, but you still have your car and
and some real-estate sucking you down with what you still owe on
them? Sign up with Uber and Airbnb
and make those millstones move in your favor. What was once used for
the private enjoyment of middle class people is now turned toward the
commercial sector.
There's
nothing new about this either, as every creaky Victorian house with
an added-on outdoor staircase attests: the Great Depression pressed
extra rooms into service as cheap apartments, and ads were placed in
local papers to find boarders to fill them.
But
wait, you say—your hypothetical example costs money and Uber and
such are free! Of course they're not: you just don't pay up front.
You pay a percentage as provider of the service, a cost that may or
may not be passed on to the “customer” who gets the ride. If it
isn't, then the actual customer of the service is the person who
lists the property or drives the car, and she is merely using the
service to capture the customer or find the fare. Furthermore, anyone
who uses a smartphone pays all the time in the form of a data plan.
Uber-type companies don't get money from that data plan directly, but
they do get the advantage of opportunity cost being paid by the
smartphone user. We don't think of data plans as the cost of doing
business online because we get used to paying them, and they quickly
grow natural to us. Our
hypothetical traveler using Ridebook
invests only $1.00 and a few dimes here
and there.
We
tend to think of companies like Uber and the like as technology
companies because they fit a few favorite scripts. The first one is
“OMG the Intr0webz changes everything!” This favorite of
traditional media is probably driven by their own fear and lack of
understanding about how the Wild and Woolly Web really works. After
20 years, it's also high time we gave up on it. It
changes what it changes, and it doesn't what it doesn't. I think
we've largely gotten that figured out by now. The
second is that “every new company that uses anything even remotely
cell phone or webbish is an innovation company,” which both isn't
true and masks the way these supposedly innovative companies look
very traditional when they start to get big and compete with one
another.
While
Uber and Airbnb-type
companies provide great opportunities for many people, the tragedy of
not seeing them as indications of how far the middle class has
declined shows how unwilling we are to fight back for decent wages
and to organize on our own behalf. These companies will provide us
work-arounds for as long as they remain small. Then they too—just
like Amazon and Apple—will fall into putting downward pressure on
wages and compensation, start
outsourcing, and begin
doing all those bad things big companies are expected by their
shareholders to do.
No comments:
Post a Comment