What I learned as a Food Delivery Courier in Berlin and What You Should Probably Know As Well — Part 3
Hi there!
In the previous post, I discussed the 3 different food delivery companies that used to operate in Berlin, and how one (Foodora) was bought by Lieferando, and then soon after the remaining company, Deliveroo, announced they're closing their german operation. Lieferando won the battle and is dominating the market today.
In this post I talk about the thing that makes the bike wheel go around — money! Or, what are the different ways a courier can earn money, and how different types of “employment” can create very far-reaching outcomes? But for that, we need to go back in time. Not long — just 6 months, to the high times of the delivery war between Lieferando and Deliveroo.
Part 3 — Living the App-Economy Dream
In many aspects, Lieferando and Deliveroo were quite similar and offered almost the same service: An app that allows you to choose and order food from many restaurants in your city, and have it brought to your doorstep within 20–30 minutes by a bicycle courier. They were also bothered by the same issues — how to get more restaurants on board, in more locations around town, offering more food options, and during as many possible hours during the day.
But there was one thing very different about how these two companies operated their courier service — a difference that culminated in the big bang that threw Deliveroo outside of the German market.
Let's start with the easier model to explain because we all know it -— employment. Lieferando employed their couriers, according to pre-agreed hourly contracts. A courier could choose to work 10 hours a week (usually 2 shifts), between 10 and 30 hours (legally defined as “part-time”), or more than 30 hours a week (oh my god) — “full time”.
The wage was hourly, and yes, you guessed it — the wage is the legal minimum wage. While the minimum wage is the same all over Germany (around 10 Euro per hour), Berlin is still fairly cheap, meaning that working at minimum wage is actually ok. Not amazing of course, but you get along. It also meant that while you are on the shift, the clock was ticking, and you earn money. Doesn’t matter if you were drinking a club-mate in the shade of an Eiche tree, or cycling all over town. But the real advantage for the couriers (though customers and restaurant owners might differ) is that since you were paid by the hour, you don’t have an incentive to cycle fast like crazy — you just need to get the job done. Of course, while you are on a shift, you appear on this app, and the company can see you and where you are, and even how fast you ride — so you do actually need to get the job done — but as long as you are not slower than what google maps suggest, all is good. Now don’t get me wrong — riding for Lieferando was not a peachy job, and I will discuss the different aspects of precarity that are part of being a courier in a later post, but I just wanted you to have Lieferando’s way of working in mind before we discuss the second option — Deliveroo.
Deliveroo were bolder, cheeky, and more loyal to the true ethos of the platform economy — they didn’t employ anyone (not on the streets of course; in their HQ you’d still find the analysts, marketing experts and data engineers). in order to ride for Deliveroo, you had to download the app, register yourself and once you were approved, you could start. You were your own boss. You could decide when and where in town you work, just by switching on the app and putting yourself out there. and the most important part — you were paid PER DELIVERY, and not per hour.
I must admit, that’s kinda cool. You have an empty slot in your schedule — go bike and earn money. You have a terrible headache and want to stay in bed — no worries, continue sleeping. ultra flexibility.
It also meant that if you are a trained cyclist, a fast rider — you would make more money, as you can complete more deliveries in a given time. And if you live really in the city center, then you could start working the moment you leave your doorstep.
Maybe you ask yourself the same question I was asking — “how can this business work when everyone is a free spirit and comes and goes whenever they want?”. Deliveroo also had this problem, and they solved it in a way that seemed quite elegant, fair, and engaging– courier ratings. Couriers were rated according to how fast they were, how reliable they are (according to how many happy customers they left behind) and your ratings increased if you left your app on as long as possible (meaning, that you can be sent for a delivery whenever it's needed). To top that, you could increase your rating even further by becoming a “super rider” — couriers who managed to do dozens of deliveries per day received special ratings that positioned them at the top of the list. And what can one do with these ratings? No, you don’t cash them out for money; it means you will get more work than others, and that you could choose the deliveries you want from the list of orders waiting to be sent.
Maybe you’ve noticed that I wrote “dozens of deliveries per day” and continued reading, but let's stop at this point for a moment: in a good working hour (peak-time, nice weather, many orders ) a courier can do 2 to 3 drops. It is easy to calculate– just open your google maps, find a restaurant located within 2–3 km from your home, and ask yourself — how many times in an hour can I cycle there, wait for 2–5 minutes for the packing and everything, and then ride back home, go up to my flat, and then again. And then again. Can you do this 3 times in one hour? Can you do this for 5–6 hours non stop? If your answer is yes — You should consider working as a bike courier.
This worked well for some time; Deliveroo riders were even proud of themselves, and by the fact that they are living the dream and making money, no strings attached. They even used to look down on Lieferando guys, you know — those bums, wearing the ugly orange Lieferandoo uniform, who cycle slowly because they are paid by the hour. Not us! we cycle fast and get the job done. Working for Deliveroo was cool.
But it didn’t last long.
As you might suspect, giving people an incentive to work hard, fast, and long hours without limitations lead to some problems. I'm not talking about car accidents — those happened as well, and we should keep that in mind when we talk later about the dangers of the job; I’m talking about injuries due to fatigue and wear. some “super riders” managed to reach 70 to 80 drops per day (wait a moment and let this number sink in; look at the google maps example that I just gave above).
Back pain, ass pain, hand wrists, ankle twists, and knee pains.
Deliveroo riders were falling off their bikes.
This is a good time to remember another thing about the working conditions at Deliveroo — as you are not employed by them (you are a free spirit, remember?), you were not entitled to any sick leave or medical provisions. you do you. If you were injured, you sit home. And don’t earn money.
This led to a growing criticism against Deliveroo that received some public resonance. Berlin is still a place where people care about this kind of stuff (let's call it “workers’ rights”), and so the criticism became full out protest.
Deliveroo reacted — they dropped many of the incentives, limited the possible riding hours, and canceled the “super rider” category. But guess what — this just made the riders more pissed. The riders were asking themselves — if I'm not getting any favorable conditions for being a freelance rider — why am I not getting at least the benefits of being an employee?? Minimum wage guaranty, paid sick leave, a paycheck slip… The way things are, we are losing on both ends!
Many riders quite Deliveroo. A small group of riders actually decided to organize themselves and start a riders’ union, which was quite a thing back then, one of the first platform-economy unions in Germany. This union was very small but loud, and it didn’t make Deliveroo's life easier.
Unfortunately for Deliveroo, this was not just a local issue. Google “Deliveroo protest” for a quick peek on how their riders around the world (UK, France, Berlin, Hong Kong, Canada) were kinda reaching the same conclusions.
And if all of these negative developments were not enough, Deliveroo had one bigger problem — They were losing the competition with Lieferando.
This has many many reasons and factors that I will not dive in to, but to make it simple — Lieferando was doing better, had a better app, more content customers and restaurant owners, and a pretty solid courier work-force.
Eventually, several months later, Deliveroo announced it is closing its german operation. They lost. Lieferando became the one and only. Kings of Berlin.
In my next post, I will finally satisfy your curiosity and tell you how much money I earn with deliveries.
- We already know that Lieferando pays minimum wage.
- We already know (if you read my previous post) that I'm not working for them, but for a small delivery collective in Berlin. We are also paid per-delivery, and there's an interesting system behind it.
A small teaser — “interesting” and “profitable” are not equivalents.
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This post is part of a series titled ‘What I learned as a Food Delivery Courier in Berlin and What You Should Probably Know As Well’.
you can read the preface (how did I become a bike delivery guy in Berlin) here, and the 2nd part (Onboarding, or — who do I work for (Work at? Work with? Working on?) here.
