Last Week Tonight With John Oliver (2014) s11e06 Episode Script
Food Delivery Apps
1
Welcome to "Last Week Tonight"!
I'm John Oliver, thank you so much
for joining us.
It has been a busy week,
from a massive bridge collapse
in Baltimore
to Sam Bankman-Fried getting
sentenced to 25 years in prison.
Are these two events related?
Experts say "no",
but given enough time,
morons can find a path to "maybe".
And in California, this happened.
After receiving a request
by the LEGO company,
the Murrieta Police Department
has agreed to stop altering
their mug shot photos with LEGO heads.
That is shocking for a number
of reasons.
One, that they were doing it. And two,
that LEGO was mad at them.
Because it is one of the most pro-cop
toy franchises I've ever seen.
It's not just the LEGO police station,
there's the LEGO police car
and helicopter,
the police training academy,
the police mobile crime lab truck,
the police bike and car chase sets,
the mobile police dog training center,
and of course, LEGO prison island.
In fact, if I were someone at LEGO,
and, common misconception,
I'm actually not, stop asking,
we're cousins,
I'd have just pretended
that Murrieta PD's actions were part
of a viral marketing stunt promoting
the all-cop dystopia
LEGO's clearly trying to dream
into existence.
Now, the reason they were obscuring
arrest photos with LEGO heads
has to do with a 2021 state law that
prohibits local law enforcement
from showing mug shots of people
arrested for non-violent crimes.
Which makes sense,
especially given an arrest
doesn't necessarily mean guilt.
But instead of just stopping,
the Murrieta police opted
to think outside the box,
for the dumbest possible reason.
At first, they started using emojis.
Even Shrek made an appearance
in one post.
Why use LEGO heads?
A little fun, get some attention,
game the social media algorithms,
generate some attraction,
likes, follows, stuff like that.
But that's not the police's job at all.
There is a reason they have mottos
like "to protect and serve"
and not "to protect, serve,
and get to one million followers,
please hit like and subscribe".
I could spend the rest of this
show on LEGO police misconduct,
but instead, we're going to turn
to Donald Trump,
who's had a rough run
in the courts lately,
between the E. Jean Carroll
defamation judgment
and New York state's fraud case,
he's on the hook
for over half a billion dollars.
But even that doesn't capture
the full extent of the financial damage.
Apparently, since leaving office,
he's spent more than $100 million
on legal bills alone, which averages
more than $90,000 a day,
none of it paid for with his own money.
In fact, a lot has come from
his supporters,
because he's repeatedly used
his legal troubles as a pretext to ask
for donations, including this plea
on Tuesday.
We're fighting, we're winning,
you see what's going on.
So, whatever you can do to help
financially would be fantastic
because we have to beat it.
If it's $5 or $10 or $100,
whatever you can do.
That is a man who talks nonstop
about how he's one of the richest men
on Earth,
begging strangers for money
in a hostage video
that looks like it was filmed in a house
haunted by the world's tackiest ghosts.
But pleading for cash
isn't his only fundraising tactic.
He's also been hawking new product
lines, from a Trump Bible
to Trump cologne,
which comes in a bottle that looks like
the award you'd give out for "least",
to Trump sneakers,
which, while saying nothing of how they
look, aren't even that comfortable.
And the reason I know that is…
No way, I'm not a fucking idiot.
But that is just the beginning.
On the Trump store website,
you'll find so much more,
from the Trump mini speaker,
which I assume is way too loud
and never dies,
to the gold Trump earbuds case,
which does solve
a pretty common issue.
You know how you can never tell
which AirPods are yours
and which are your friends' because
all the cases look the same?
Well, if you get these, you lose
all of your friends instantly!
Problem solved.
But those products aren't going to get
him near the half a billion he needs.
What might, though, is a development
that took place this week,
regarding his social media site,
Truth Social.
It was created to basically
be a right-wing version of Twitter,
before Twitter essentially became
that itself.
It's a pretty clear rip-off.
Users have a profile
and they can follow one another,
post "truths" or "retruths",
and ads are called "sponsored truths".
And that is just a deeply dystopian
phrase.
It sounds like something George Orwell
typed into the first draft of "1984"
before thinking,
"That's a little on the nose".
Truth Social is owned
by a company called TMTG,
or Trump Media & Technology Group,
and this week, the company started
to be publicly traded
under the ticker DJT,
with shares blowing past expectations.
Right now, it's valued
around $8 billion,
and since Trump owns roughly 60%
of the company,
that gives him nearly five billion
on paper.
Although, according to SEC filings,
he may not be able to cash
that in for at least six months.
But that value is utterly divorced
from the underlying business,
which is a mess.
Truth Social was the brainchild
of these two guys,
both of whom were failed contestants
on "The Apprentice".
In fact, when Trump got rid of this guy,
he made it abundantly clear
how little he thought of him.
Andy. You're just being pounded on.
You're being out-debated.
I just don't want somebody running
one of my companies
that's gonna get beaten up so badly.
You're fired.
Now, I know that sounds harsh,
but you should know, the challenge
in that episode was designing
a new Pepsi bottle and this
is what his team came up with.
It looks like a globe wearing
a girdle.
It looks like a trophy you win
at the geography bee.
It is the worst idea Pepsi
has ever been associated with,
and they had a commercial where
Kendall Jenner used Pepsi
to solve racism.
Incidentally, both those guys have
since been pushed out of Truth Social,
after, as they claim in a lawsuit,
Trump pressured one of them to hand
over some of his shares to Melania.
And you should know, the financials
for the company are a wreck.
It's lost 57 million
since its inception,
and won't release user data,
even though that's the key metric
for social media companies.
It also had to refile its financial
statements with the SEC
"after it put its revenue in the wrong
line in an Excel spreadsheet".
Now, the site does sell some ads,
or "sponsored truths",
but the companies willing to do that
are pretty much the ones you'd expect.
There've been ads for a kid's guide
to fighting socialism,
anti-woke life insurance,
ivermectin,
the official pillow of storming
the Capitol,
and this bear who recently
lost custody of the twins.
And one of the reasons they
can't get bigger advertisers
may be because there just aren't that
many people on the platform.
Truth Social's estimated to have under
half a million monthly active users
in the U.S. on iPhones
and Android devices,
compared to 75 million on Twitter,
and 142 million on Facebook.
But even that number is shrinking,
as its monthly active users are less
than half what they were a year ago.
And yet, its stock is trading
incredibly high,
because Trump supporters believe
buying it
is a way to simultaneously
own the libs, give Trump money,
and, they'd argue, make a profit
themselves.
Here are two conservatives
on a podcast gaming it all out.
- All of Trump's supporters right now.
- Are gonna buy the stock.
They don't need to donate to Trump
because the purchase of a single share
drives the value up.
So it's an interestingly…
It's a way to help him indirectly.
Indirectly, but it's not just that.
If someone donated to Trump 50 bucks,
he would have that 50 bucks.
But if someone buys the share and
millions of people are buying shares,
it's driving the price higher
and higher and higher.
That may have a bigger impact.
Trump could then offload a smaller
portion of shares
for a massive amount of money
relative to what people
actually bought shares for.
You gotta love dudes.
Look, in a way, they're right, though.
Truth Social is basically
a meme stock now,
and its price has risen based
on the same principle
behind meme stocks
like GameStop or AMC,
if enough investors buy shares,
they can drive the price up,
and everyone can somehow get out
before the bubble bursts.
But the GameStop movement was
at least nominally about wresting
financial power away
from shitty rich assholes
and restoring it to the little guy,
whereas this movement is about
funneling the little guy's money
directly to the shittiest
rich asshole there is.
And it's being pushed the same way
as other meme stocks,
through social media posts
like this one, that says,
"If you love America, buy DJT now,"
or this one, reading, "Stay calm
and buy more DJT,"
to my personal favorite,
this one that promotes the stock
alongside an eagle-shaped erection
that jizzes glitter.
Which makes sense, I suppose.
Truth Social is kind of like a penis,
in that a lot of sad men on the internet
spend their time lying
about how big it is
and what it can do for you.
And look, who knows exactly
where this will go?
Truth Social's value could collapse
when people realize
they've poured billions of dollars
into a potato
with the words "social media"
painted on it.
Although, if that happens, I'm guessing
Trump will have already cashed out,
leaving his supporters holding
the bag,
but it's also possible Trump
becomes president again,
and holds onto the platform
as a convenient way for companies
and foreign interests to funnel money
into his pockets,
which they all know he needs.
But the bottom line here is,
this year more than ever,
everything Trump does
is going to be a cash grab.
This year has brought one of the few
times he's actually been asked
to pay the price for his actions,
but already, he's got other people
footing the bill.
He is monetizing his bad behavior
in a way perhaps best summed up
by this T-shirt his campaign's
selling for $36,
with his mug shot
and the words "not guilty".
And I'm afraid there is just no way
to put a pretty face on that,
short of maybe slapping
a LEGO head on it. And now, this.
And Now: Garth Brooks' Facebook
Videos Are a Portrait
of a Very Strange Man.
Well, I guess it's official,
we're now on Facebook.
When I think about things I want
to post, I want to post cool stuff,
slick stuff, neat stuff.
But most of the stuff I'm gonna post
is gonna be raw stuff like this,
'cause it's just who I am.
All right, when do we start?
We're on? Yes!
I just hope the people that get in,
I hope they feel that it was worth it.
The guys came in today, found me
here in the studio on the floor,
I was out cold.
They woke me up about an hour ago,
so sorry for how I look.
I don't think you're ever gonna
see me look as bad as this bad
but we've just been
kind of living here.
Cried all day, laughed all day,
it's been a good day.
We're just hanging out together
backstage, it's gonna be fun.
If what happened tonight was any sign
of what's gonna happen in 2020,
it's gonna be the best year yet for us.
Moving on. Our main story tonight
concerns food delivery.
The thing that can turn a lethally
depressing Saturday night
into a lethally depressing
Saturday night with pad thai.
Specifically, we're going to talk
about food delivery apps.
You're probably familiar with them,
whether you're a user,
or a viewer of their constant ads,
featuring everyone from Jennifer Aniston
to Big Bird
to this Uber Eats Super Bowl one
starring none other than Diddy.
And I'm guessing Uber Eats might
be regretting that last one right now.
They've even released ads
for special occasions, like this.
What are you eating this Pride?
Well, if you're a top, it seems like
you can eat whatever you want.
But if you're a bottom,
you're expected to starve?
Not this Pride.
Introducing the bottom-friendly menu
from Postmates.
That is a real ad for a bottom-friendly
menu from Postmates
featuring an eggplant
in leather fetish gear,
looking like a character
from "VeggieTales"
who escaped their Evangelical
upbringing and found happiness.
And by the way, it is good to see the
peach from "Call Me By Your Name"
staying booked and busy.
Gay parts should go to gay actors.
But even beyond
unsolicited sex diet tips,
people use delivery apps for all sorts
of reasons,
and some very good,
as this driver for DoorDash explains.
It's all sorts, the average customer,
it's not like, a bunch of lazy people.
A lot of people need this because
they're too busy with kids,
or they don't have a license
for whatever reason.
People also that are just drunk or
stoned, and they don't want to drive.
They're actually being responsible,
and they don't want to drive.
So, I'll deliver to them.
There's plenty of times I'll come
to a door and the door will open
and so much pot smoke will come out,
and the person's eyes are,
like, super red. And I love that.
I think that's so funny
when it's like, some guy.
He's like, college age,
and he's just like,
"Oh, thank God. The food's here."
I love that too.
I know that might be hard
to believe from me,
someone who looks like
he's only ever confiscated weed.
But I'm all about the sticky icky.
I'm like Miss Piggy the way
I'm hitting that green.
Even now, I'm as high
as a giraffe's asshole
and as spaced out as a ninth grader's
essay trying to meet the page limit.
I get it, okay?
But even if you are not stoned, these
apps are incredibly convenient.
And the truth is, if you weren't
using them before 2020,
you almost definitely have since.
Because early on in Covid,
after in-person dining shut down,
their growth skyrocketed.
Sales for delivery apps nearly doubled
and haven't gone down since.
These apps basically had the kind
of meteoric pandemic-era rise
that Skype absolutely thought
they were in for.
And what happened, Skype?
You had it, and you lost it.
We used to use "Skype" as a verb
to mean "to video call someone,"
rather than what it means now,
"to completely fuck up the easiest
opportunity imaginable".
The pandemic truly was a watershed
moment for delivery apps,
and they marketed themselves heavily
as the saviors
of the restaurant industry.
Restaurants are our family.
The cornerstone of our communities.
And our family needs help.
Right now, they're facing a crisis.
And they're counting on your takeout
and delivery orders to help them.
Because if we don't treat restaurants
like family today,
they might not be around to treat us
like family tomorrow.
Grubhub. Together, we can save
the restaurants we love.
Wow, that hits all the check marks
of every pandemic-era ad.
Soft, twinkly piano music? Check.
An eclectic cross-section of races,
ages, ethnicities, and genders? Check.
A vague threat that
if we don't participate in capitalism,
the things we hold near and dear
will be destroyed? Checkity-check.
But even as our usage
of these apps has increased,
there's been a rising chorus
of criticism regarding
their business models,
perhaps summed up best by this
New York City Council member.
When you see something that sucks
the blood out of anything,
you call them leeches.
And that is exactly what Grubhub is.
It's true! When you see something
that sucks the blood out of anything,
you do call them leeches.
Also, if you see something
that has 10 stomachs,
32 brains, nine pairs of testicles,
and several hundred teeth,
that's a leech too, but admittedly,
doesn't apply quite as neatly here.
And while that might sound harsh
to you, it's not totally unfair.
Because for all the convenience
these apps provide us,
the customers,
they come with a huge cost
for everyone else involved,
from restaurant owners
to those delivering our food.
So, tonight, let's talk
about delivery apps.
And first, let's talk about what
food delivery used to look like.
Picture it. It's 2003,
and you're at home hungry
after a long day of work
at Blockbuster video.
So, you check out the giant stack of
take-out menus you keep in a drawer,
then, trigger warning for anyone
under 30,
you'd make a phone call
to a restaurant,
say your order out loud to a person
who worked there,
and then a delivery worker,
also hired by the restaurant,
came to drop it off.
Then you tipped in cash.
And tuned back into "American Idol,"
to watch the most famous person
in the world: Ruben Studdard.
The system was by no means perfect,
but restaurants made a profit
on your order,
and delivery drivers were, at least
theoretically, paid as employees.
But over the past decade, apps have
fundamentally shifted that model.
Now, the ordering part tends
to take place via an app,
which then contacts a delivery driver,
who typically doesn't work
for the restaurant,
who transports the food to you.
And to be fair, there have been some
upsides in this model for restaurants.
There's definitely a lot of positives.
One of them is, like, knowing that
there's a delivery guy nearby
to pick up the food and we don't have
to have someone on staff.
We would need about 15 guys
here at all times.
Right, before delivery apps,
that owner would've needed 15 guys
just standing around at all times,
which honestly sounds less
like a restaurant
and more like someone describing
an orgy that didn't quite take off.
And apps will point out that they also
put restaurants' menus
in front of hungry people, which can
help them with reaching more customers
and growing revenue. But revenue
isn't the same as profit.
And let's talk about how, exactly,
these companies make money.
Because they make some off the
various fees that you might see
when you order.
But they also charge restaurants
15 to 30% of an order in commissions.
And that number can get even higher
when apps charge restaurants
additional fees, for everything from
boosting their placement in the app,
to making them part of special
promotions.
And especially during the pandemic,
when online orders
were basically the only ones coming in,
restaurants who'd signed up for an app
could be unpleasantly surprised when
they saw just how little was left
after the apps had taken their cut.
We signed up during this pandemic,
as just any way to get any income,
to have cash on hand
to be able to keep our staff.
This was Grubhub's bill to The Warren.
Out of total orders of more
than $16,000,
Grubhub gave the restaurant
only about 7,000 back.
It was equal to 42% of our sales
that we got, so they took 58% of it.
It's true.
They took 58% of their sales.
And I know that just saying percentages
at you might not be that helpful,
even though you know that you are
watching an episode
of "Numbers Being Yelled at You
with Human Squidward,"
but 58% is a lot.
Grubhub insists that that restaurant
agreed to those fees up front,
and that 58% is an outlier,
but it's worth noting,
The Washington Post recently ran
an experiment where they ordered
the same meal from this restaurant in
San Francisco on three different apps.
The meal itself cost $20.69 before
fees, taxes, and tip,
and when they contacted the restaurant,
they found that,
for Uber Eats, the restaurant got
$14.48 back.
For Grubhub, it got $12.47.
And for DoorDash, it only got $10.59.
Those are mafia margins.
Also, quick sidenote: what a fun
assignment for a journalist that was!
Sometimes, journalists track down
sources
or pore through thousands
of pages of documents.
Other times, you get to order chicken
parm a bunch of times in a row.
It's really the luck of the draw.
But it's gotten to the point where
many restaurants have taken
to increasing their prices on the apps,
to at least partially offset those fees.
That is why you may have noticed
food often costs more on an app
than it does at the restaurant.
You might think, "restaurants should
refuse to be listed on these sites".
But resisting them
hasn't always worked.
Apps have repeatedly added
restaurants against their will.
In D.C. alone, Grubhub was accused of
listing more than 1,000 restaurants
available for delivery
that they didn't have contracts with.
And if you're thinking,
"Well, I still don't see a problem
they get to be on the app
without paying for it,"
there are actually
multiple issues there.
Not every restaurant wants
to do delivery or is set up for it.
And Grubhub's been accused of not
warning restaurants before listing them,
leading to them being suddenly
inundated with orders
they never expected.
One in California even complained
about Grubhub's menu listing
"food that it does not actually make
and has never made."
Basically, Grubhub would list
a restaurant without its permission
and then make money by charging you
a high delivery fee
to bring the food
to your door.
But that might put the restaurant itself
in a tough spot,
because they might be disappointing
customers
in ways they don't even realize.
M Street Baking Company in Howell was
open for takeout during the pandemic.
Like many restaurants, they were
approached to join Grubhub
for food delivery, but declined.
We found out that they were
sending people in
pretending to just be
regular customers,
but actually working for Grubhub
and delivering our stuff
without our knowledge.
They were offering milkshakes.
We don't put lids on our milkshakes
because they go directly to you.
So, now it's going into somebody else's
car that they could cough on, sneeze on.
As a business, if I knew that a second
party was handling your food,
I would package your products
probably differently
than if I knew it was going
right to you.
Yeah, of course you would!
And I am glad about that.
Because I, for one,
do not want to drink a milkshake
that's been rawdogging the air in Kyle's
vape smoke-filled Honda Civic!
And the thing is, this practice
has been standard in the industry
right from the start.
Just listen to the founder of Postmates
talk about the company's early days.
When we launched Postmates
three years ago,
we did deliveries
from Chipotle's restaurant,
and we got a cease and desist
from them.
And they said, like, "we're a little bit
concerned about the food quality."
But you know, what did we have
to lose? So, we decided to ignore it.
Oh, you did, did you? That's fun!
And imagine getting lectured
on food safety by Chipotle,
the biggest red flag imaginable,
and blowing that off.
Also, I just want to go back so you can
see Jim Cramer's expression there,
because this is the happiest
I've ever seen anyone look.
He is positively giddy at this story
of corporate recklessness.
He looks like a kid meeting a dog
for the first time.
No one has ever been happier
than this.
And in the case of Grubhub, it's
occasionally engaged in tactics
that seem more
like a protection racket.
For instance, in 2020, it allegedly
listed restaurants
that didn't partner with them
as "closed,"
or "not accepting online orders,"
even when they were.
Which feels especially shitty,
coming from the same company
that made that ad saying that,
"Together, we can help save
the restaurants we love."
I guess Grubhub just forgot to add,
"and burn the ones that don't make us
money to the fucking ground."
It is no wonder restaurant owners have
increasingly turned on these apps,
likening them to "a hostage situation,"
and "selling your soul to the devil."
Which is, if anything, too kind.
At least when you make a deal with the
devil, he offers you something cool,
like a sick golden fiddle in return.
And he surrenders, even when
I think there's a pretty good case
that he's the better fiddler.
Sure, Johnny does rosin up his bow
and play that fiddle hard,
but he's sampling old folk songs,
there's nothing original there.
The devil, however, is playing
an original, dissonant composition,
backed up by a band of demons.
He's bringing way more
to the musical table.
Now, we don't have time for me to play
both sides and fully convince you,
but go listen to that song again
and tell me you're not having way
more fun listening to the devil.
Happy Easter, by the way.
But it's not just the restaurants
that these apps can harm.
It's also the delivery workers.
In most places, delivering
for these companies is gig work,
you set your own hours, and drive
as much or as little as you choose.
And companies have sold this
as a great thing.
Grubhub runs recruiting spots showing
happy people balancing childcare
or careers as artists with working
part-time doing deliveries.
And other companies make
similar claims,
sometimes in wildly
over-the-top ways,
like the head of DoorDash here.
I think, in many ways, Dashers
on DoorDash look very similar
to consumers in the sense that they
value their time as much
or sometimes more than money.
They, in effect, are choosing some
of these part-time gig opportunities
so that they can save for a project,
whatever that may be,
whether that's buying a gift for
someone or starting an orphanage.
What? Starting an orphanage?
What are you talking about?
Orphanages aren't generally
side hustles.
You don't tend to see "Rachel's
Shelter for Loose Babies."
But I guess if you're a tech bro,
you've got it all planned out.
First, you get a bunch
of venture capital
to "disrupt the orphanage space".
Then you corner the orphanage market,
automate it with robot workers
to take care of the kids,
create a rating system for potential
adoptive parents
to rate the babies' vibe,
fire babies who fail said vibe check,
zero severance, obviously,
make wild claims about future
profitability, and before you know it,
boom, it's IPO time. Innovative.
Profitable. Orphanages.
But the truth is, for many of those
engaged in gig work,
it's not a side job.
It's their main source of income.
And that can be a real problem when
you consider that delivery apps classify
their workers as independent
contractors.
Meaning they have to pay
for all of their own expenses,
and as this guy in New York explains,
that can be a lot.
The bike itself costs
between $1,800 and $1,900, new.
I upgraded it in many ways. For
example, the seat, the phone holder,
so I can have it over here.
This battery cost me almost $450.
So, the total would be
up to $2,500,
because if only the bike costs $1,800,
plus the battery, that's $2,200.
And I had to buy the backpack, because
the companies don't give you one.
And a helmet, because
they don't give you one either.
Look, that is all ridiculous,
but the backpack might be
the most egregious part there.
This is a backpack you can't use
for anything else.
Imagine using it for school.
Unless you're a second grader
who shows up every day
with a social studies book,
a PB&J, and 13 orders
of pad kee mao,
it doesn't really work.
But the expenses
are just the beginning here.
Workers are also at the mercy
of the apps' opaque algorithms,
which are used to dictate speed,
behavior,
and ultimately,
the wages of the workers.
Many apps set up a gamelike system
of rewards and penalties,
offering high scores for being on time,
and low scores and fewer orders
for tardiness.
And of course, a significant part
of that system is negative reviews.
You might think a bad review is going
to a restaurant or the app itself,
but all workers know getting one
can severely restrict
your options going forward.
In fact, just a few negative responses
have the power to dry up worker income
or even get them booted
off the platform altogether.
And those who've studied this
will tell you,
that dynamic is a significant problem.
Much of reputation systems were put
in place to be able to give consumers
reviews of products.
That doesn't transfer well
to workers' effort,
turning it into the equivalent
of evaluating
whether we got a good coffee.
That place where there's slippage
between a product and a person's labor
is dangerous.
We'll replace the tyranny of the boss
with tyranny of an algorithm,
and that is much worse, I will tell you.
As a computer scientist, I will tell you
that that's much worse.
Right. That is a terrible system.
Workers have even called
the algorithm the "patrón fantasma,"
or "phantom boss," which sounds like
a reality show on Max
that somehow already has 12 seasons.
And this downward pressure
is a big part
of why you might see delivery
workers speeding,
or going the wrong way down
a street on their bike.
The clear incentive is to make
as many orders as you can,
as quickly as you can, even if that
means compromising safety.
And speaking of safety, these jobs
can be risky. In cities like New York,
delivery workers are constantly
dodging traffic,
and have been robbed and attacked.
And that's even before people
ask them to bring them food
through extreme weather,
like blizzards and even floods.
And by the way, don't do that!
If you see a flash flood warning
pop up on your phone
and immediately open Grubhub, sorry,
you don't get to go to heaven.
That was the test,
and you failed it.
It is frankly no wonder that delivery
driving is among
the deadliest occupations
in the country.
And because these workers
are independent contractors,
apps don't have to pay
for their health insurance.
In fact, one survey found that,
of those who'd experienced
a work-related injury,
three out of four delivery workers said
they'd paid for medical care
out of their own pocket.
All of which can lead to things
like this supposedly heartwarming
human-interest story from January,
about a video that had gone viral.
Bro, what are you doing?
Are you serious?
- I've got bills to pay, bro.
- I respect that, dude. That's crazy.
This is how Kevin Ross has been
making a living,
delivering food on a bike
with a broken foot.
Watch as he straps a walker
onto the bike
so he has support
when he goes inside restaurants.
Back in September, Kevin says
he was making a delivery for Grubhub.
He was hit by a car.
I got hit, I blacked out. Next thing
I know, I'm in the hospital.
He needed surgery, and doctors told him
recovery would take months.
But with hardly any savings, he had
no choice but to get back to work.
Well, hold on, "no choice?"
Grubhub says they're all about giving
their delivery workers choice!
They get to choose their own hours,
choose to run a red light rather
than be punished by the algorithm,
and they get to choose to get back
to work while severely injured
instead of facing
crushing medical bills.
They've got more choices
than Sophie! Haven't seen the movie.
So, workers are vulnerable because
they lack labor protections
and health insurance,
and all of this risk is in service
of a job where, like, unfortunately,
most service jobs, most of their income
comes in the form of tips,
which can make up a third
to half of their total earnings.
But the thing is, those tips
obviously aren't guaranteed.
The Verge interviewed a delivery worker
who reported biking from 77th Street
on the Upper East Side,
18 blocks south and over
the Queensboro Bridge,
then up through Long Island City and
over another bridge to Roosevelt Island,
all to deliver a single slice of cake
for no tip at all.
And look, I get that, if you're ordering
delivery on a single slice of cake,
you are clearly going through
something.
Because that is the single saddest
order any human being could make.
But you gotta fucking tip!
And at this point, you're probably
thinking,
"these companies are driving
restaurants and delivery workers
to ruin, just to make massive profits."
So, you might be surprised to hear this.
We should start by acknowledging
that, today,
Uber Eats does not make money.
Janelle Sallenave is head of Uber Eats.
We've been very public about
the fact that it's not yet profitable.
And neither are her competitors.
The platforms themselves lose
a ton of money,
in the hundreds of millions
of dollars, billions collectively.
Why does this business even make
sense?
I'm not sure it does. And I think
they're still trying to figure out
how to make money at this even today.
Wow, they're still trying to figure out
how to make money at this.
These are companies valued
at billions of dollars,
and yet, they're being talked about the
same way you talk about your cousin
who sells jewelry on Etsy.
And while that might sound
counterintuitive,
it actually makes perfect sense.
Because the old, menus-in-a-drawer
form of delivery set certain limits.
It involved one restaurant
directly hiring a delivery worker,
who then delivered food
to a limited area.
But these apps introduce whole new
categories of costs to the equation,
from marketing, to lobbying,
to building and maintaining
a whole website.
And they're basically following the
classic tech disruptor model
of using Wall Street money
to grow at all costs,
corner a market, undercut their
competitors and then buy them up,
all with the ultimate goal
of monopolizing the sector
and then massively raising prices.
Think about how Uber and Lyft
used to be much cheaper
than traditional taxis and then,
once they'd dismantled that model,
they jacked their prices way up.
We're at the point in the cycle where
companies can lose a ton of money,
keep prices low for consumers,
even as they try and offset that
by squeezing restaurants
and delivery workers at the bottom.
But the consolidation era
has very much begun.
Uber Eats bought Postmates.
DoorDash bought Caviar.
And Grubhub merged with Seamless.
In fact, "Grubhub and DoorDash alone
comprise more than 20 companies
that once competed with one another."
And some of these companies
will tell you
that they're now either breaking even,
or turning a slight profit,
though some of those claims have
significant caveats to them.
But in general, we're currently
in a weird situation
where the restaurants are losing out,
the delivery workers are losing out,
and even the companies are struggling.
The main winner, so far, has actually
been us, the customers.
Because as this business journalist
points out,
we're getting an incredibly convenient
service,
and paying less
than it's technically worth.
I call this the millennial lifestyle
subsidy, right?
Every single time that you're using
DoorDash or using Uber,
you're getting a little bit of money
back from these companies.
They're saying, "We're never going
to charge you as much
as the service actually costs."
So, I think it's ironic,
I think it's interesting,
and I also think it just can't last.
And he's probably right.
Though, personally, I find it
a little hard to get mad at the idea
of millennials getting
some sort of subsidy in life.
After all, this is a group who will
never be able to afford a house,
is drowning in student debt, and can't
even enjoy Harry Potter anymore.
You can't spell "millennial"
without three massive L's.
But if it truly is the case that
we're headed to a point
where a few massive companies
dominate this industry,
now might be the time to talk about
putting some real guardrails up.
And I will say, some places are trying.
Here in New York, thanks to the hard
work of, among others,
a collective of delivery workers
called Los Deliveristas Unidos,
the city passed a law that guarantees
a minimum pay rate
for delivery workers. But the apps
haven't made it easy.
Once that rule rolled out,
they increased their fees to users
and restaurants,
and tried to reduce the end price
to the consumer
by making it harder to find
the tipping option.
If you live in New York, check to make
sure you're still tipping people,
'cause it's possible that you're not.
And in California, the state passed
a law in 2019
expanding protections to gig workers.
But some of the big delivery apps,
along with rideshare companies
and others,
pushed a ballot proposition
called Prop 22
that would carve themselves
out of that law.
And they went all-out to get it passed.
The latest data from the secretary
of state's office show Uber, Lyft,
DoorDash, Postmates, and Instacart
have spent
more than $184 million combined
campaigning for Prop 22
It is very David and Goliath,
if you will.
These billionaire corporations spending
so much money to exempt themselves
from basic labor protections,
it tells you what it's worth to them.
Right, it does tell you
what it's worth to them.
At least $184 million.
And that's a fuckton of money.
That's as much as, and this is true,
this racehorse.
Think about that, they're denying
workers basic labor rights,
when instead, they could be getting in
on the ground floor of this horse.
And I get it. I get where that valuation
is coming from.
And the sad thing is,
that ballot initiative passed,
and it could be very hard to undo,
given it requires a seven-eighths vote
in both the State Assembly
and Senate to amend it in any way.
Which is unprecedented,
although that part, at least,
may hopefully get overturned
by California's Supreme Court
later this year.
And there are fights brewing in other
places, including Seattle,
which is considering rolling back
worker protections,
and Massachusetts,
where several apps are pushing
for a Prop-22-style ballot initiative
this November.
But while these issues get addressed
at the federal, state, and city level,
it might also be worth talking
about what you, yourself, can do.
Because I am not saying
you shouldn't use delivery apps.
A lot of people rely on them, from
working parents to disabled people,
to people who are, like me right now,
baked out of their fucking minds.
But the fact is that it's just too easy
to use these apps
while completely forgetting
the actual human beings behind them
whose fates you control
by just pressing a button.
So, when it comes to restaurants, if
there is one you like to order from,
ask if there is a way that they would
rather you do that than through an app,
and if there is, do it.
And when it comes to delivery workers,
remember,
bad reviews can directly impact
their livelihoods.
So, I would go with five stars
across the board.
Basically, if you're rating anything
less than five stars,
there has to be visible semen
in your food.
And you have to be absolutely sure
that it's not just a glaze.
And even then,
I'd still go with four stars.
And while this should go without
saying, you have to tip.
And if you're making someone
cross multiple bridges
with a single piece of cake, first,
I'm so sorry about whatever
is going on in your hectic life.
But you need to tip even more.
And if we all do this, then,
and only then, will we be able to say
with a clear conscience,
"Oh, thank God. The food's here."
And now this.
And Now: Stuart Varney's Favorite
Person is Exactly Who You Think It Is.
I say Europe is in decline, morally
and financially.
More on that next.
If only Lady Thatcher was still around.
Maybe we should remember the
wonderful Margaret Thatcher.
You know I worked with Thatcher,
I was trying to get
to Marget Thatcher, Art.
Obviously, Margaret Thatcher probably
is held deeply in your heart.
You're right, Scott,
she is very close to my heart.
What a wonderful lady she was.
- She was one tough negotiator.
- Wasn't she just? What a lady.
I miss Margaret Thatcher,
she was wonderful.
She was just a good candidate
for heaven's sake, you know?
She was fantastic.
I just can't help myself. I have
to quote Margaret Thatcher.
As the wonderful
Margaret Thatcher said,
"The trouble with socialism
is that, sooner or later,
you run out of other people's money."
"The trouble with socialism…"
"You run out of other people's money."
And the problem with socialism is
you run out of other people's money.
Exactly. Margaret Thatcher.
Dead right, dead right.
"Who is the most important
or impressive person"
whom you have ever interviewed?"
Absolutely dead easy,
Margaret Thatcher.
Margaret Thatcher.
Remember that in "Billy Elliot"?
"Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher,"
it's a great piece.
"Billy Elliot?"
What's that then?
The musical in which
they ripped into her,
the whole thing's an attack
on Maggie Thatcher,
but very cleverly done.
It is? didn't know that.
I was gonna go and see it.
Now I'm not. Where were we?
That's our show, thanks so much
for watching. We'll see you next week.
Welcome to "Last Week Tonight"!
I'm John Oliver, thank you so much
for joining us.
It has been a busy week,
from a massive bridge collapse
in Baltimore
to Sam Bankman-Fried getting
sentenced to 25 years in prison.
Are these two events related?
Experts say "no",
but given enough time,
morons can find a path to "maybe".
And in California, this happened.
After receiving a request
by the LEGO company,
the Murrieta Police Department
has agreed to stop altering
their mug shot photos with LEGO heads.
That is shocking for a number
of reasons.
One, that they were doing it. And two,
that LEGO was mad at them.
Because it is one of the most pro-cop
toy franchises I've ever seen.
It's not just the LEGO police station,
there's the LEGO police car
and helicopter,
the police training academy,
the police mobile crime lab truck,
the police bike and car chase sets,
the mobile police dog training center,
and of course, LEGO prison island.
In fact, if I were someone at LEGO,
and, common misconception,
I'm actually not, stop asking,
we're cousins,
I'd have just pretended
that Murrieta PD's actions were part
of a viral marketing stunt promoting
the all-cop dystopia
LEGO's clearly trying to dream
into existence.
Now, the reason they were obscuring
arrest photos with LEGO heads
has to do with a 2021 state law that
prohibits local law enforcement
from showing mug shots of people
arrested for non-violent crimes.
Which makes sense,
especially given an arrest
doesn't necessarily mean guilt.
But instead of just stopping,
the Murrieta police opted
to think outside the box,
for the dumbest possible reason.
At first, they started using emojis.
Even Shrek made an appearance
in one post.
Why use LEGO heads?
A little fun, get some attention,
game the social media algorithms,
generate some attraction,
likes, follows, stuff like that.
But that's not the police's job at all.
There is a reason they have mottos
like "to protect and serve"
and not "to protect, serve,
and get to one million followers,
please hit like and subscribe".
I could spend the rest of this
show on LEGO police misconduct,
but instead, we're going to turn
to Donald Trump,
who's had a rough run
in the courts lately,
between the E. Jean Carroll
defamation judgment
and New York state's fraud case,
he's on the hook
for over half a billion dollars.
But even that doesn't capture
the full extent of the financial damage.
Apparently, since leaving office,
he's spent more than $100 million
on legal bills alone, which averages
more than $90,000 a day,
none of it paid for with his own money.
In fact, a lot has come from
his supporters,
because he's repeatedly used
his legal troubles as a pretext to ask
for donations, including this plea
on Tuesday.
We're fighting, we're winning,
you see what's going on.
So, whatever you can do to help
financially would be fantastic
because we have to beat it.
If it's $5 or $10 or $100,
whatever you can do.
That is a man who talks nonstop
about how he's one of the richest men
on Earth,
begging strangers for money
in a hostage video
that looks like it was filmed in a house
haunted by the world's tackiest ghosts.
But pleading for cash
isn't his only fundraising tactic.
He's also been hawking new product
lines, from a Trump Bible
to Trump cologne,
which comes in a bottle that looks like
the award you'd give out for "least",
to Trump sneakers,
which, while saying nothing of how they
look, aren't even that comfortable.
And the reason I know that is…
No way, I'm not a fucking idiot.
But that is just the beginning.
On the Trump store website,
you'll find so much more,
from the Trump mini speaker,
which I assume is way too loud
and never dies,
to the gold Trump earbuds case,
which does solve
a pretty common issue.
You know how you can never tell
which AirPods are yours
and which are your friends' because
all the cases look the same?
Well, if you get these, you lose
all of your friends instantly!
Problem solved.
But those products aren't going to get
him near the half a billion he needs.
What might, though, is a development
that took place this week,
regarding his social media site,
Truth Social.
It was created to basically
be a right-wing version of Twitter,
before Twitter essentially became
that itself.
It's a pretty clear rip-off.
Users have a profile
and they can follow one another,
post "truths" or "retruths",
and ads are called "sponsored truths".
And that is just a deeply dystopian
phrase.
It sounds like something George Orwell
typed into the first draft of "1984"
before thinking,
"That's a little on the nose".
Truth Social is owned
by a company called TMTG,
or Trump Media & Technology Group,
and this week, the company started
to be publicly traded
under the ticker DJT,
with shares blowing past expectations.
Right now, it's valued
around $8 billion,
and since Trump owns roughly 60%
of the company,
that gives him nearly five billion
on paper.
Although, according to SEC filings,
he may not be able to cash
that in for at least six months.
But that value is utterly divorced
from the underlying business,
which is a mess.
Truth Social was the brainchild
of these two guys,
both of whom were failed contestants
on "The Apprentice".
In fact, when Trump got rid of this guy,
he made it abundantly clear
how little he thought of him.
Andy. You're just being pounded on.
You're being out-debated.
I just don't want somebody running
one of my companies
that's gonna get beaten up so badly.
You're fired.
Now, I know that sounds harsh,
but you should know, the challenge
in that episode was designing
a new Pepsi bottle and this
is what his team came up with.
It looks like a globe wearing
a girdle.
It looks like a trophy you win
at the geography bee.
It is the worst idea Pepsi
has ever been associated with,
and they had a commercial where
Kendall Jenner used Pepsi
to solve racism.
Incidentally, both those guys have
since been pushed out of Truth Social,
after, as they claim in a lawsuit,
Trump pressured one of them to hand
over some of his shares to Melania.
And you should know, the financials
for the company are a wreck.
It's lost 57 million
since its inception,
and won't release user data,
even though that's the key metric
for social media companies.
It also had to refile its financial
statements with the SEC
"after it put its revenue in the wrong
line in an Excel spreadsheet".
Now, the site does sell some ads,
or "sponsored truths",
but the companies willing to do that
are pretty much the ones you'd expect.
There've been ads for a kid's guide
to fighting socialism,
anti-woke life insurance,
ivermectin,
the official pillow of storming
the Capitol,
and this bear who recently
lost custody of the twins.
And one of the reasons they
can't get bigger advertisers
may be because there just aren't that
many people on the platform.
Truth Social's estimated to have under
half a million monthly active users
in the U.S. on iPhones
and Android devices,
compared to 75 million on Twitter,
and 142 million on Facebook.
But even that number is shrinking,
as its monthly active users are less
than half what they were a year ago.
And yet, its stock is trading
incredibly high,
because Trump supporters believe
buying it
is a way to simultaneously
own the libs, give Trump money,
and, they'd argue, make a profit
themselves.
Here are two conservatives
on a podcast gaming it all out.
- All of Trump's supporters right now.
- Are gonna buy the stock.
They don't need to donate to Trump
because the purchase of a single share
drives the value up.
So it's an interestingly…
It's a way to help him indirectly.
Indirectly, but it's not just that.
If someone donated to Trump 50 bucks,
he would have that 50 bucks.
But if someone buys the share and
millions of people are buying shares,
it's driving the price higher
and higher and higher.
That may have a bigger impact.
Trump could then offload a smaller
portion of shares
for a massive amount of money
relative to what people
actually bought shares for.
You gotta love dudes.
Look, in a way, they're right, though.
Truth Social is basically
a meme stock now,
and its price has risen based
on the same principle
behind meme stocks
like GameStop or AMC,
if enough investors buy shares,
they can drive the price up,
and everyone can somehow get out
before the bubble bursts.
But the GameStop movement was
at least nominally about wresting
financial power away
from shitty rich assholes
and restoring it to the little guy,
whereas this movement is about
funneling the little guy's money
directly to the shittiest
rich asshole there is.
And it's being pushed the same way
as other meme stocks,
through social media posts
like this one, that says,
"If you love America, buy DJT now,"
or this one, reading, "Stay calm
and buy more DJT,"
to my personal favorite,
this one that promotes the stock
alongside an eagle-shaped erection
that jizzes glitter.
Which makes sense, I suppose.
Truth Social is kind of like a penis,
in that a lot of sad men on the internet
spend their time lying
about how big it is
and what it can do for you.
And look, who knows exactly
where this will go?
Truth Social's value could collapse
when people realize
they've poured billions of dollars
into a potato
with the words "social media"
painted on it.
Although, if that happens, I'm guessing
Trump will have already cashed out,
leaving his supporters holding
the bag,
but it's also possible Trump
becomes president again,
and holds onto the platform
as a convenient way for companies
and foreign interests to funnel money
into his pockets,
which they all know he needs.
But the bottom line here is,
this year more than ever,
everything Trump does
is going to be a cash grab.
This year has brought one of the few
times he's actually been asked
to pay the price for his actions,
but already, he's got other people
footing the bill.
He is monetizing his bad behavior
in a way perhaps best summed up
by this T-shirt his campaign's
selling for $36,
with his mug shot
and the words "not guilty".
And I'm afraid there is just no way
to put a pretty face on that,
short of maybe slapping
a LEGO head on it. And now, this.
And Now: Garth Brooks' Facebook
Videos Are a Portrait
of a Very Strange Man.
Well, I guess it's official,
we're now on Facebook.
When I think about things I want
to post, I want to post cool stuff,
slick stuff, neat stuff.
But most of the stuff I'm gonna post
is gonna be raw stuff like this,
'cause it's just who I am.
All right, when do we start?
We're on? Yes!
I just hope the people that get in,
I hope they feel that it was worth it.
The guys came in today, found me
here in the studio on the floor,
I was out cold.
They woke me up about an hour ago,
so sorry for how I look.
I don't think you're ever gonna
see me look as bad as this bad
but we've just been
kind of living here.
Cried all day, laughed all day,
it's been a good day.
We're just hanging out together
backstage, it's gonna be fun.
If what happened tonight was any sign
of what's gonna happen in 2020,
it's gonna be the best year yet for us.
Moving on. Our main story tonight
concerns food delivery.
The thing that can turn a lethally
depressing Saturday night
into a lethally depressing
Saturday night with pad thai.
Specifically, we're going to talk
about food delivery apps.
You're probably familiar with them,
whether you're a user,
or a viewer of their constant ads,
featuring everyone from Jennifer Aniston
to Big Bird
to this Uber Eats Super Bowl one
starring none other than Diddy.
And I'm guessing Uber Eats might
be regretting that last one right now.
They've even released ads
for special occasions, like this.
What are you eating this Pride?
Well, if you're a top, it seems like
you can eat whatever you want.
But if you're a bottom,
you're expected to starve?
Not this Pride.
Introducing the bottom-friendly menu
from Postmates.
That is a real ad for a bottom-friendly
menu from Postmates
featuring an eggplant
in leather fetish gear,
looking like a character
from "VeggieTales"
who escaped their Evangelical
upbringing and found happiness.
And by the way, it is good to see the
peach from "Call Me By Your Name"
staying booked and busy.
Gay parts should go to gay actors.
But even beyond
unsolicited sex diet tips,
people use delivery apps for all sorts
of reasons,
and some very good,
as this driver for DoorDash explains.
It's all sorts, the average customer,
it's not like, a bunch of lazy people.
A lot of people need this because
they're too busy with kids,
or they don't have a license
for whatever reason.
People also that are just drunk or
stoned, and they don't want to drive.
They're actually being responsible,
and they don't want to drive.
So, I'll deliver to them.
There's plenty of times I'll come
to a door and the door will open
and so much pot smoke will come out,
and the person's eyes are,
like, super red. And I love that.
I think that's so funny
when it's like, some guy.
He's like, college age,
and he's just like,
"Oh, thank God. The food's here."
I love that too.
I know that might be hard
to believe from me,
someone who looks like
he's only ever confiscated weed.
But I'm all about the sticky icky.
I'm like Miss Piggy the way
I'm hitting that green.
Even now, I'm as high
as a giraffe's asshole
and as spaced out as a ninth grader's
essay trying to meet the page limit.
I get it, okay?
But even if you are not stoned, these
apps are incredibly convenient.
And the truth is, if you weren't
using them before 2020,
you almost definitely have since.
Because early on in Covid,
after in-person dining shut down,
their growth skyrocketed.
Sales for delivery apps nearly doubled
and haven't gone down since.
These apps basically had the kind
of meteoric pandemic-era rise
that Skype absolutely thought
they were in for.
And what happened, Skype?
You had it, and you lost it.
We used to use "Skype" as a verb
to mean "to video call someone,"
rather than what it means now,
"to completely fuck up the easiest
opportunity imaginable".
The pandemic truly was a watershed
moment for delivery apps,
and they marketed themselves heavily
as the saviors
of the restaurant industry.
Restaurants are our family.
The cornerstone of our communities.
And our family needs help.
Right now, they're facing a crisis.
And they're counting on your takeout
and delivery orders to help them.
Because if we don't treat restaurants
like family today,
they might not be around to treat us
like family tomorrow.
Grubhub. Together, we can save
the restaurants we love.
Wow, that hits all the check marks
of every pandemic-era ad.
Soft, twinkly piano music? Check.
An eclectic cross-section of races,
ages, ethnicities, and genders? Check.
A vague threat that
if we don't participate in capitalism,
the things we hold near and dear
will be destroyed? Checkity-check.
But even as our usage
of these apps has increased,
there's been a rising chorus
of criticism regarding
their business models,
perhaps summed up best by this
New York City Council member.
When you see something that sucks
the blood out of anything,
you call them leeches.
And that is exactly what Grubhub is.
It's true! When you see something
that sucks the blood out of anything,
you do call them leeches.
Also, if you see something
that has 10 stomachs,
32 brains, nine pairs of testicles,
and several hundred teeth,
that's a leech too, but admittedly,
doesn't apply quite as neatly here.
And while that might sound harsh
to you, it's not totally unfair.
Because for all the convenience
these apps provide us,
the customers,
they come with a huge cost
for everyone else involved,
from restaurant owners
to those delivering our food.
So, tonight, let's talk
about delivery apps.
And first, let's talk about what
food delivery used to look like.
Picture it. It's 2003,
and you're at home hungry
after a long day of work
at Blockbuster video.
So, you check out the giant stack of
take-out menus you keep in a drawer,
then, trigger warning for anyone
under 30,
you'd make a phone call
to a restaurant,
say your order out loud to a person
who worked there,
and then a delivery worker,
also hired by the restaurant,
came to drop it off.
Then you tipped in cash.
And tuned back into "American Idol,"
to watch the most famous person
in the world: Ruben Studdard.
The system was by no means perfect,
but restaurants made a profit
on your order,
and delivery drivers were, at least
theoretically, paid as employees.
But over the past decade, apps have
fundamentally shifted that model.
Now, the ordering part tends
to take place via an app,
which then contacts a delivery driver,
who typically doesn't work
for the restaurant,
who transports the food to you.
And to be fair, there have been some
upsides in this model for restaurants.
There's definitely a lot of positives.
One of them is, like, knowing that
there's a delivery guy nearby
to pick up the food and we don't have
to have someone on staff.
We would need about 15 guys
here at all times.
Right, before delivery apps,
that owner would've needed 15 guys
just standing around at all times,
which honestly sounds less
like a restaurant
and more like someone describing
an orgy that didn't quite take off.
And apps will point out that they also
put restaurants' menus
in front of hungry people, which can
help them with reaching more customers
and growing revenue. But revenue
isn't the same as profit.
And let's talk about how, exactly,
these companies make money.
Because they make some off the
various fees that you might see
when you order.
But they also charge restaurants
15 to 30% of an order in commissions.
And that number can get even higher
when apps charge restaurants
additional fees, for everything from
boosting their placement in the app,
to making them part of special
promotions.
And especially during the pandemic,
when online orders
were basically the only ones coming in,
restaurants who'd signed up for an app
could be unpleasantly surprised when
they saw just how little was left
after the apps had taken their cut.
We signed up during this pandemic,
as just any way to get any income,
to have cash on hand
to be able to keep our staff.
This was Grubhub's bill to The Warren.
Out of total orders of more
than $16,000,
Grubhub gave the restaurant
only about 7,000 back.
It was equal to 42% of our sales
that we got, so they took 58% of it.
It's true.
They took 58% of their sales.
And I know that just saying percentages
at you might not be that helpful,
even though you know that you are
watching an episode
of "Numbers Being Yelled at You
with Human Squidward,"
but 58% is a lot.
Grubhub insists that that restaurant
agreed to those fees up front,
and that 58% is an outlier,
but it's worth noting,
The Washington Post recently ran
an experiment where they ordered
the same meal from this restaurant in
San Francisco on three different apps.
The meal itself cost $20.69 before
fees, taxes, and tip,
and when they contacted the restaurant,
they found that,
for Uber Eats, the restaurant got
$14.48 back.
For Grubhub, it got $12.47.
And for DoorDash, it only got $10.59.
Those are mafia margins.
Also, quick sidenote: what a fun
assignment for a journalist that was!
Sometimes, journalists track down
sources
or pore through thousands
of pages of documents.
Other times, you get to order chicken
parm a bunch of times in a row.
It's really the luck of the draw.
But it's gotten to the point where
many restaurants have taken
to increasing their prices on the apps,
to at least partially offset those fees.
That is why you may have noticed
food often costs more on an app
than it does at the restaurant.
You might think, "restaurants should
refuse to be listed on these sites".
But resisting them
hasn't always worked.
Apps have repeatedly added
restaurants against their will.
In D.C. alone, Grubhub was accused of
listing more than 1,000 restaurants
available for delivery
that they didn't have contracts with.
And if you're thinking,
"Well, I still don't see a problem
they get to be on the app
without paying for it,"
there are actually
multiple issues there.
Not every restaurant wants
to do delivery or is set up for it.
And Grubhub's been accused of not
warning restaurants before listing them,
leading to them being suddenly
inundated with orders
they never expected.
One in California even complained
about Grubhub's menu listing
"food that it does not actually make
and has never made."
Basically, Grubhub would list
a restaurant without its permission
and then make money by charging you
a high delivery fee
to bring the food
to your door.
But that might put the restaurant itself
in a tough spot,
because they might be disappointing
customers
in ways they don't even realize.
M Street Baking Company in Howell was
open for takeout during the pandemic.
Like many restaurants, they were
approached to join Grubhub
for food delivery, but declined.
We found out that they were
sending people in
pretending to just be
regular customers,
but actually working for Grubhub
and delivering our stuff
without our knowledge.
They were offering milkshakes.
We don't put lids on our milkshakes
because they go directly to you.
So, now it's going into somebody else's
car that they could cough on, sneeze on.
As a business, if I knew that a second
party was handling your food,
I would package your products
probably differently
than if I knew it was going
right to you.
Yeah, of course you would!
And I am glad about that.
Because I, for one,
do not want to drink a milkshake
that's been rawdogging the air in Kyle's
vape smoke-filled Honda Civic!
And the thing is, this practice
has been standard in the industry
right from the start.
Just listen to the founder of Postmates
talk about the company's early days.
When we launched Postmates
three years ago,
we did deliveries
from Chipotle's restaurant,
and we got a cease and desist
from them.
And they said, like, "we're a little bit
concerned about the food quality."
But you know, what did we have
to lose? So, we decided to ignore it.
Oh, you did, did you? That's fun!
And imagine getting lectured
on food safety by Chipotle,
the biggest red flag imaginable,
and blowing that off.
Also, I just want to go back so you can
see Jim Cramer's expression there,
because this is the happiest
I've ever seen anyone look.
He is positively giddy at this story
of corporate recklessness.
He looks like a kid meeting a dog
for the first time.
No one has ever been happier
than this.
And in the case of Grubhub, it's
occasionally engaged in tactics
that seem more
like a protection racket.
For instance, in 2020, it allegedly
listed restaurants
that didn't partner with them
as "closed,"
or "not accepting online orders,"
even when they were.
Which feels especially shitty,
coming from the same company
that made that ad saying that,
"Together, we can help save
the restaurants we love."
I guess Grubhub just forgot to add,
"and burn the ones that don't make us
money to the fucking ground."
It is no wonder restaurant owners have
increasingly turned on these apps,
likening them to "a hostage situation,"
and "selling your soul to the devil."
Which is, if anything, too kind.
At least when you make a deal with the
devil, he offers you something cool,
like a sick golden fiddle in return.
And he surrenders, even when
I think there's a pretty good case
that he's the better fiddler.
Sure, Johnny does rosin up his bow
and play that fiddle hard,
but he's sampling old folk songs,
there's nothing original there.
The devil, however, is playing
an original, dissonant composition,
backed up by a band of demons.
He's bringing way more
to the musical table.
Now, we don't have time for me to play
both sides and fully convince you,
but go listen to that song again
and tell me you're not having way
more fun listening to the devil.
Happy Easter, by the way.
But it's not just the restaurants
that these apps can harm.
It's also the delivery workers.
In most places, delivering
for these companies is gig work,
you set your own hours, and drive
as much or as little as you choose.
And companies have sold this
as a great thing.
Grubhub runs recruiting spots showing
happy people balancing childcare
or careers as artists with working
part-time doing deliveries.
And other companies make
similar claims,
sometimes in wildly
over-the-top ways,
like the head of DoorDash here.
I think, in many ways, Dashers
on DoorDash look very similar
to consumers in the sense that they
value their time as much
or sometimes more than money.
They, in effect, are choosing some
of these part-time gig opportunities
so that they can save for a project,
whatever that may be,
whether that's buying a gift for
someone or starting an orphanage.
What? Starting an orphanage?
What are you talking about?
Orphanages aren't generally
side hustles.
You don't tend to see "Rachel's
Shelter for Loose Babies."
But I guess if you're a tech bro,
you've got it all planned out.
First, you get a bunch
of venture capital
to "disrupt the orphanage space".
Then you corner the orphanage market,
automate it with robot workers
to take care of the kids,
create a rating system for potential
adoptive parents
to rate the babies' vibe,
fire babies who fail said vibe check,
zero severance, obviously,
make wild claims about future
profitability, and before you know it,
boom, it's IPO time. Innovative.
Profitable. Orphanages.
But the truth is, for many of those
engaged in gig work,
it's not a side job.
It's their main source of income.
And that can be a real problem when
you consider that delivery apps classify
their workers as independent
contractors.
Meaning they have to pay
for all of their own expenses,
and as this guy in New York explains,
that can be a lot.
The bike itself costs
between $1,800 and $1,900, new.
I upgraded it in many ways. For
example, the seat, the phone holder,
so I can have it over here.
This battery cost me almost $450.
So, the total would be
up to $2,500,
because if only the bike costs $1,800,
plus the battery, that's $2,200.
And I had to buy the backpack, because
the companies don't give you one.
And a helmet, because
they don't give you one either.
Look, that is all ridiculous,
but the backpack might be
the most egregious part there.
This is a backpack you can't use
for anything else.
Imagine using it for school.
Unless you're a second grader
who shows up every day
with a social studies book,
a PB&J, and 13 orders
of pad kee mao,
it doesn't really work.
But the expenses
are just the beginning here.
Workers are also at the mercy
of the apps' opaque algorithms,
which are used to dictate speed,
behavior,
and ultimately,
the wages of the workers.
Many apps set up a gamelike system
of rewards and penalties,
offering high scores for being on time,
and low scores and fewer orders
for tardiness.
And of course, a significant part
of that system is negative reviews.
You might think a bad review is going
to a restaurant or the app itself,
but all workers know getting one
can severely restrict
your options going forward.
In fact, just a few negative responses
have the power to dry up worker income
or even get them booted
off the platform altogether.
And those who've studied this
will tell you,
that dynamic is a significant problem.
Much of reputation systems were put
in place to be able to give consumers
reviews of products.
That doesn't transfer well
to workers' effort,
turning it into the equivalent
of evaluating
whether we got a good coffee.
That place where there's slippage
between a product and a person's labor
is dangerous.
We'll replace the tyranny of the boss
with tyranny of an algorithm,
and that is much worse, I will tell you.
As a computer scientist, I will tell you
that that's much worse.
Right. That is a terrible system.
Workers have even called
the algorithm the "patrón fantasma,"
or "phantom boss," which sounds like
a reality show on Max
that somehow already has 12 seasons.
And this downward pressure
is a big part
of why you might see delivery
workers speeding,
or going the wrong way down
a street on their bike.
The clear incentive is to make
as many orders as you can,
as quickly as you can, even if that
means compromising safety.
And speaking of safety, these jobs
can be risky. In cities like New York,
delivery workers are constantly
dodging traffic,
and have been robbed and attacked.
And that's even before people
ask them to bring them food
through extreme weather,
like blizzards and even floods.
And by the way, don't do that!
If you see a flash flood warning
pop up on your phone
and immediately open Grubhub, sorry,
you don't get to go to heaven.
That was the test,
and you failed it.
It is frankly no wonder that delivery
driving is among
the deadliest occupations
in the country.
And because these workers
are independent contractors,
apps don't have to pay
for their health insurance.
In fact, one survey found that,
of those who'd experienced
a work-related injury,
three out of four delivery workers said
they'd paid for medical care
out of their own pocket.
All of which can lead to things
like this supposedly heartwarming
human-interest story from January,
about a video that had gone viral.
Bro, what are you doing?
Are you serious?
- I've got bills to pay, bro.
- I respect that, dude. That's crazy.
This is how Kevin Ross has been
making a living,
delivering food on a bike
with a broken foot.
Watch as he straps a walker
onto the bike
so he has support
when he goes inside restaurants.
Back in September, Kevin says
he was making a delivery for Grubhub.
He was hit by a car.
I got hit, I blacked out. Next thing
I know, I'm in the hospital.
He needed surgery, and doctors told him
recovery would take months.
But with hardly any savings, he had
no choice but to get back to work.
Well, hold on, "no choice?"
Grubhub says they're all about giving
their delivery workers choice!
They get to choose their own hours,
choose to run a red light rather
than be punished by the algorithm,
and they get to choose to get back
to work while severely injured
instead of facing
crushing medical bills.
They've got more choices
than Sophie! Haven't seen the movie.
So, workers are vulnerable because
they lack labor protections
and health insurance,
and all of this risk is in service
of a job where, like, unfortunately,
most service jobs, most of their income
comes in the form of tips,
which can make up a third
to half of their total earnings.
But the thing is, those tips
obviously aren't guaranteed.
The Verge interviewed a delivery worker
who reported biking from 77th Street
on the Upper East Side,
18 blocks south and over
the Queensboro Bridge,
then up through Long Island City and
over another bridge to Roosevelt Island,
all to deliver a single slice of cake
for no tip at all.
And look, I get that, if you're ordering
delivery on a single slice of cake,
you are clearly going through
something.
Because that is the single saddest
order any human being could make.
But you gotta fucking tip!
And at this point, you're probably
thinking,
"these companies are driving
restaurants and delivery workers
to ruin, just to make massive profits."
So, you might be surprised to hear this.
We should start by acknowledging
that, today,
Uber Eats does not make money.
Janelle Sallenave is head of Uber Eats.
We've been very public about
the fact that it's not yet profitable.
And neither are her competitors.
The platforms themselves lose
a ton of money,
in the hundreds of millions
of dollars, billions collectively.
Why does this business even make
sense?
I'm not sure it does. And I think
they're still trying to figure out
how to make money at this even today.
Wow, they're still trying to figure out
how to make money at this.
These are companies valued
at billions of dollars,
and yet, they're being talked about the
same way you talk about your cousin
who sells jewelry on Etsy.
And while that might sound
counterintuitive,
it actually makes perfect sense.
Because the old, menus-in-a-drawer
form of delivery set certain limits.
It involved one restaurant
directly hiring a delivery worker,
who then delivered food
to a limited area.
But these apps introduce whole new
categories of costs to the equation,
from marketing, to lobbying,
to building and maintaining
a whole website.
And they're basically following the
classic tech disruptor model
of using Wall Street money
to grow at all costs,
corner a market, undercut their
competitors and then buy them up,
all with the ultimate goal
of monopolizing the sector
and then massively raising prices.
Think about how Uber and Lyft
used to be much cheaper
than traditional taxis and then,
once they'd dismantled that model,
they jacked their prices way up.
We're at the point in the cycle where
companies can lose a ton of money,
keep prices low for consumers,
even as they try and offset that
by squeezing restaurants
and delivery workers at the bottom.
But the consolidation era
has very much begun.
Uber Eats bought Postmates.
DoorDash bought Caviar.
And Grubhub merged with Seamless.
In fact, "Grubhub and DoorDash alone
comprise more than 20 companies
that once competed with one another."
And some of these companies
will tell you
that they're now either breaking even,
or turning a slight profit,
though some of those claims have
significant caveats to them.
But in general, we're currently
in a weird situation
where the restaurants are losing out,
the delivery workers are losing out,
and even the companies are struggling.
The main winner, so far, has actually
been us, the customers.
Because as this business journalist
points out,
we're getting an incredibly convenient
service,
and paying less
than it's technically worth.
I call this the millennial lifestyle
subsidy, right?
Every single time that you're using
DoorDash or using Uber,
you're getting a little bit of money
back from these companies.
They're saying, "We're never going
to charge you as much
as the service actually costs."
So, I think it's ironic,
I think it's interesting,
and I also think it just can't last.
And he's probably right.
Though, personally, I find it
a little hard to get mad at the idea
of millennials getting
some sort of subsidy in life.
After all, this is a group who will
never be able to afford a house,
is drowning in student debt, and can't
even enjoy Harry Potter anymore.
You can't spell "millennial"
without three massive L's.
But if it truly is the case that
we're headed to a point
where a few massive companies
dominate this industry,
now might be the time to talk about
putting some real guardrails up.
And I will say, some places are trying.
Here in New York, thanks to the hard
work of, among others,
a collective of delivery workers
called Los Deliveristas Unidos,
the city passed a law that guarantees
a minimum pay rate
for delivery workers. But the apps
haven't made it easy.
Once that rule rolled out,
they increased their fees to users
and restaurants,
and tried to reduce the end price
to the consumer
by making it harder to find
the tipping option.
If you live in New York, check to make
sure you're still tipping people,
'cause it's possible that you're not.
And in California, the state passed
a law in 2019
expanding protections to gig workers.
But some of the big delivery apps,
along with rideshare companies
and others,
pushed a ballot proposition
called Prop 22
that would carve themselves
out of that law.
And they went all-out to get it passed.
The latest data from the secretary
of state's office show Uber, Lyft,
DoorDash, Postmates, and Instacart
have spent
more than $184 million combined
campaigning for Prop 22
It is very David and Goliath,
if you will.
These billionaire corporations spending
so much money to exempt themselves
from basic labor protections,
it tells you what it's worth to them.
Right, it does tell you
what it's worth to them.
At least $184 million.
And that's a fuckton of money.
That's as much as, and this is true,
this racehorse.
Think about that, they're denying
workers basic labor rights,
when instead, they could be getting in
on the ground floor of this horse.
And I get it. I get where that valuation
is coming from.
And the sad thing is,
that ballot initiative passed,
and it could be very hard to undo,
given it requires a seven-eighths vote
in both the State Assembly
and Senate to amend it in any way.
Which is unprecedented,
although that part, at least,
may hopefully get overturned
by California's Supreme Court
later this year.
And there are fights brewing in other
places, including Seattle,
which is considering rolling back
worker protections,
and Massachusetts,
where several apps are pushing
for a Prop-22-style ballot initiative
this November.
But while these issues get addressed
at the federal, state, and city level,
it might also be worth talking
about what you, yourself, can do.
Because I am not saying
you shouldn't use delivery apps.
A lot of people rely on them, from
working parents to disabled people,
to people who are, like me right now,
baked out of their fucking minds.
But the fact is that it's just too easy
to use these apps
while completely forgetting
the actual human beings behind them
whose fates you control
by just pressing a button.
So, when it comes to restaurants, if
there is one you like to order from,
ask if there is a way that they would
rather you do that than through an app,
and if there is, do it.
And when it comes to delivery workers,
remember,
bad reviews can directly impact
their livelihoods.
So, I would go with five stars
across the board.
Basically, if you're rating anything
less than five stars,
there has to be visible semen
in your food.
And you have to be absolutely sure
that it's not just a glaze.
And even then,
I'd still go with four stars.
And while this should go without
saying, you have to tip.
And if you're making someone
cross multiple bridges
with a single piece of cake, first,
I'm so sorry about whatever
is going on in your hectic life.
But you need to tip even more.
And if we all do this, then,
and only then, will we be able to say
with a clear conscience,
"Oh, thank God. The food's here."
And now this.
And Now: Stuart Varney's Favorite
Person is Exactly Who You Think It Is.
I say Europe is in decline, morally
and financially.
More on that next.
If only Lady Thatcher was still around.
Maybe we should remember the
wonderful Margaret Thatcher.
You know I worked with Thatcher,
I was trying to get
to Marget Thatcher, Art.
Obviously, Margaret Thatcher probably
is held deeply in your heart.
You're right, Scott,
she is very close to my heart.
What a wonderful lady she was.
- She was one tough negotiator.
- Wasn't she just? What a lady.
I miss Margaret Thatcher,
she was wonderful.
She was just a good candidate
for heaven's sake, you know?
She was fantastic.
I just can't help myself. I have
to quote Margaret Thatcher.
As the wonderful
Margaret Thatcher said,
"The trouble with socialism
is that, sooner or later,
you run out of other people's money."
"The trouble with socialism…"
"You run out of other people's money."
And the problem with socialism is
you run out of other people's money.
Exactly. Margaret Thatcher.
Dead right, dead right.
"Who is the most important
or impressive person"
whom you have ever interviewed?"
Absolutely dead easy,
Margaret Thatcher.
Margaret Thatcher.
Remember that in "Billy Elliot"?
"Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher,"
it's a great piece.
"Billy Elliot?"
What's that then?
The musical in which
they ripped into her,
the whole thing's an attack
on Maggie Thatcher,
but very cleverly done.
It is? didn't know that.
I was gonna go and see it.
Now I'm not. Where were we?
That's our show, thanks so much
for watching. We'll see you next week.