The Uberization of Labor and the Myth of Entrepreneurship
Old article, carried into this new space of reflection.
Across industries and geographies, we are witnessing a quiet but profound transformation of work. Stable employment, with its hard-earned protections and social guarantees, is increasingly being replaced by fragmented, on-demand labor. Work is no longer “work” in the traditional sense…it is repackaged as pseudo-entrepreneurship, where flexibility is promised but precarity is delivered.
At first glance, this shift is draped in the language of freedom: “Be your own boss,” “Work on your own terms,” “Monetize your time.” But beneath this surface lies a systemic erosion of rights and protections that workers, through decades of struggle, fought to secure.
This is not just about Uber. It is about the silent unraveling of the social contract around work and what that means for dignity, security, and equality in the modern economy.
In exercising our responsibility as citizens, we are inevitably drawn to reflect on the state of employability in our societies. Employment numbers are often framed as a proxy for economic vitality. Even if we choose to avoid them, these figures are constantly pushed to the front pages of the news — and they increasingly reveal a sobering reality.
For years, international institutions have warned of a coming “structural unemployment wave” — driven by the relentless march of automation and technological advancement. This isn’t speculation anymore. It’s unfolding before our eyes.
Moments of global crisis, like the 2020/2021 pandemic, only accelerated these trends: turbocharging automation while exposing the profound fragility of the global workforce.
A few years back, during a session at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Sharan Burrow, Secretary-General of the International Trade Union Confederation, put it starkly:
“Nearly 1.6 billion of the most vulnerable workers in the global labor markets have lost the ability to live decently, highlighting the inadequacy of safety nets and social assistance for the majority of the world’s active population.”
That crisis may have been unprecedented, but it wasn’t the first warning sign — nor will it be the last. In response, many governments scrambled to establish wealth transfer programs, and some, like Spain, institutionalized a minimum living wage to tackle rising job precarity.
Yet the uncomfortable question remains:
What were governments doing before?
Before the headlines, before the emergency policies, how were they addressing the gradual, systemic weakening of the very people who drive their economies?
One of the most celebrated buzzwords of our time is the “shared economy.” Its premise, in theory, is defensible, especially from an environmental standpoint. But socially, it carries far more complexity.
Take Uber, for example. It’s a brilliant innovation on many levels.
First, it has made transportation simpler, especially in unfamiliar places where language and navigation can be barriers.
Second, it optimizes underused resources. Personal vehicles, manufactured through extractive and polluting processes, are parked roughly 95% of the time. Any tool that helps reduce that inefficiency, in principle, should be celebrated.
But herein lies the paradox.
Uber — and countless other “sharing economy” platforms — thrive on a model where the worker is rebranded as an “independent entrepreneur.” Companies monetize other people’s time, ideally at the lowest possible cost, while evading the responsibilities traditionally associated with employment.
This is not genuine entrepreneurship — it is atomized, isolated, precarious labor wrapped in entrepreneurial rhetoric.
In a world where we are already deprived of time by the flood of information and endless demands on our attention, imagine if your time becomes the sole metric for your survival. Every minute, every hour must be monetized — or it is “wasted.” What happens to community? To relationships that have no immediate economic return? To rest?
When time is money — literally — social bonds fray.
There is a reason children no longer toil in sweatshops: societies fought to humanize work. But the rhetoric of “flexibility” and “freedom” is rapidly undoing these protections, dragging large swaths of workers back into precarity…this time disguised under the guise of freedom.
The consequences are visible: millions losing access to basic rights, like paid leave, maternity protection, healthcare, and other privileges that previous generations fought tooth and nail to secure.
The real question is:
In an era where the cracks in our economic systems are glaringly exposed, how do we reinvent these models to offer more protection, more dignity, more inclusion, especially for those most vulnerable?
And maybe, next time you open an app and book a ride, remember: behind the convenience is a human being navigating a system that often fails them. If you have the privilege, tip generously. Remember, however, that small actions can ease someone’s day — but only collective choices can redefine the future of work for a more just society.