If you don’t care what happens to gig workers during coronavirus, you should – you’re next

We are all staked in what happens to gig workers during this crisis – not only because they are essential to addressing it, but because what starts at the margins of society rarely ends there

The coronavirus crisis has taught us an overdue lesson about work: we have learned what kinds matter. Workers the government just one month ago designated “low-skilled” are now “key workers”, including supermarket and warehouse workers, carers, cleaners, couriers, bus drivers and refuse collectors. Many of these workforces have been transformed over the past decade by the gig economy and corporate outsourcing, leaving them highly precarious and poorly waged. Yet these are the workers that keep society going.

The government, it seems, has not gotten the memo. Rishi Sunak’s wage bailout did not initially even include self-employed or gig economy workers. The self-employed rescue package the chancellor eventually delivered on Thursday will not come into effect until June, rendering it entirely inadequate for a workforce that largely lives hand-to-mouth. The package does not include sick pay, nor does it extend to those who have recently joined the gig economy, or anyone who earns less than fifty per cent of their income through gig work. The package also requires workers to calculate their average profit from gig work from the past three years, a significant administrative burden on those with little free time. Profit is also an unfair way to calculate eligibility, as it does not factor in expenses, like insurance costs. Simply put, the package does not reflect how gig workers actually work.

This oversight is not unique to this government. It is the culmination of decades of companies running roughshod over workers’ rights, of governments refusing to listen to workers and establish policies that recognise the realities of gig life. This historic shortfall makes it all the less surprising that during a crisis, the government has failed these workers yet again – despite being essential to surviving this pandemic. The government is exacerbating the crisis by putting key workers at risk, and failing to properly resource them at this crucial time.

Gig workers are not even being afforded what little rights workers have left. The wild success of companies like Deliveroo relies on their not offering conventional worker entitlements like holiday pay, sick pay or professional insurance, let alone a minimum wage. These platforms hide behind claims their workers are self-employed or independent contractors, rather than employees – despite having the same, and in some cases more, control over their workers than a traditional employer. Companies also use this claim to circumvent labour laws; workers can be hired and fired instantly and without explanation. Such legal loopholes are critical to the business models of companies like Uber, which saves up to 30% on labour costs by exploiting them.

It is no secret that these workforces are disproportionately comprised of migrants and those from migrant backgrounds, making them more easily exploitable. Governments and companies can get away with poorer treatment of the socially marginalised, because the rest of society is less likely to vote or act in solidarity with them. An increasingly unequal world and draconian immigration policies mean migrants have fewer employment options than ever, forcing them into working conditions unacceptable to the rest of the workforce. Their economic exploitation is made easier by their political and social disenfranchisement.

So people working as couriers, taxi drivers, care workers, cleaners and in warehouses are being locked out of crucial safety nets because they are not legally defined as employees. These workers are also often separated from their colleagues and made to bear the brunt of operational costs and labour. In short, the “self-employed” label that the gig economy relies on overburdens and isolates already struggling workers.

We are seeing these shortfalls manifest now with devastating consequences. Workers who should be self-isolating, some of whom may even have symptoms, are going to work, because government wage relief is not coming for months. Others do not qualify for relief, as the irregularities of gig work make meeting the threshold for access unrealistic for most workers. Many gig workers are also part-time, relying on gigs to make up to fifty per cent of their livelihood. These workers will also get no help from the government, and so will see up to half of their income slashed. This lack of recognition of the realities of gig work will not only have severe economic impacts on workers – it will put their lives and those of others at risk, as workers are forced to go against public health advice to survive.

In the short term, the government must provide a safety net for all, without exceptions. In the long term, it must develop labour policies in the interests of workers, rather than sustaining a broken, exploitative business model.

We are all staked in what happens to gig workers during this crisis – not only because they are essential to addressing it, but because what starts at the margins of society rarely ends there. Academia, for example – once seen as the quintessential stable, middle-class profession – is increasingly taking on the casualised working practices of the gig economy. This pandemic has been a harsh warning against taking for granted the workers who sustain our economy. Let the lesson be solidarity – the only weapon we have against exploitation.

Dalia Gebrial is a PhD researcher at the London School of Economics, where she looks at race, gender and the gig economy.