The reported government intervention against quick commerce platforms comes in the wake of persistent concerns about the safety and mental health of gig workers arising from the undue pressure exerted by the stringent 10-minute delivery promise and the punitive consequences in the event of failure to comply with it.
Right from the beginning, this model was a bad idea that favoured and prioritised the convenience of urban middle- and upper-middle-class consumers at the cost of the health and safety of gig workers.
Most of these workers hail from lower-middle-class backgrounds and are often pushed into gig work due to high unemployment rates and financial compulsions.
The government did the bare minimum by asking platforms such as Blinkit, Swiggy and Zepto to desist from promoting their business as a “10-minute” service.
This mild reprimand is unlikely to significantly alter their business models, but it may provide some much-needed relief or succour to the much-harassed and exploited gig workers.
The 10-minute delivery promise was not merely a marketing gimmick but the central value proposition of q-commerce platforms. It promises extreme and excessive convenience to so-called “time-starved” big-city consumers.
Why 10 minutes, and not 15 or 20, is a question whose answer can be quite damning.
It is not only far quicker than stepping out to buy a product from a neighbourhood grocery store but, more importantly, a psychological ploy that makes the consumer feel powerful and pampered, offering an illusion of magical instant gratification.
This carefully devised system is essentially a technology-driven arrangement that normalises the coercion of the poor and vulnerable into near-slave-like working conditions in the service of relatively affluent sections of society.
The q-commerce sector comprises two broad kinds of players. On one hand are new start-ups and unicorns such as Zomato-owned Blinkit, Swiggy Instamart and Zepto.
On the other are large conglomerates such as the Tata and Reliance groups. The aggression and callous disregard for the safety and welfare of gig workers appear more pronounced in the thinking and functioning of rapacious new-age companies.
This is not surprising, as the socio-economic backgrounds of many founders, along with their technology- and marketing-driven education and mindset, are often bereft of egalitarian and humane orientations.
Moreover, the Indian start-up ecosystem has not been known for any significant original innovation.
Many so-called successful start-ups are little more than cheap, Indianised versions of ideas copied from foreign companies.
Union Minister Piyush Goyal was therefore not entirely wrong in criticising their obsession with food delivery and other consumer services at the expense of more challenging and meaningful deep-tech innovation.
More importantly, a large number of these start-ups thrive by exploiting the desperation of disadvantaged and vulnerable sections of society.
They deploy invisible and faceless technologies and algorithms to perpetuate inhuman and exploitative practices that even the most heartless kirana shop owner might hesitate to enforce without guilt.
The BJP-led central government must also bear part of the responsibility for this situation.
Its response has been too little and too late. Initially, pro-government voices celebrated and glorified gig work for “generating employment,” while being wittingly or unwittingly oblivious to the misery and tribulations of the workforce.
The move had little tangible impact on their well-being.
The government must now go beyond symbolic gestures and force the hand of q-commerce companies to ensure safety, job security, social benefits, and workplace respect and dignity for gig workers.