Gig workers, freelancers grapple with uncertainty
As economy slowly normalizes, fears mount that precarious workers will be left behind
Thomas McKechnie was in a Zoom meeting with food-delivery union Foodsters United, discussing strategies for organizing couriers and bringing emergency relief to workers struggling during COVID-19, when the news hit.
“Everyone needs to check their emails. Right now,” someone on the call said.
It was a corporate message from Foodora: The company would be pulling out of Canada and discontinuing operations on May 11, leaving McKechnie and its other workers behind. It was April; May wasn’t far off.
Like the rest of the world, Torontonians aren’t sure what post-pandemic life will look like. For gig workers, the future is particularly uncertain. Some 5.5 million Canadians had found themselves either unemployed or their hours significantly reduced as of mid-April, according to Statistics Canada. Those losses were magnified among temporary workers (30.2 per cent in employment losses) and non-unionized workers (21.2 per cent).
By the organization’s own admission, StatCan has struggled to keep track of reliable gig economy data. The organization estimates gig workers represented between eight and 10 per cent of all Canadian workers in 2016. The lack of data
makes it more difficult to measure the scope of the impact and provide support to the sector.
Headlines surrounding companies in the gig economy inspire even less confidence. Uber, expecting revenue losses of as much as 80 per cent, laid off 6,700 workers and announced it would close 45 offices in costsaving measures, according to a memo sent to employees. Similarly, Lyft permanently cut 982 jobs and temporarily laid off another 288 workers.
Foodora pulled out of Canada after initiating bankruptcy proceedings, with $4.7 million in debt. The move came not long after the Ontario Labour Relations Board in February gave couriers a historic win — the right to unionize — leaving the industry scrambling to determine its next moves. When COVID-19 hit, Brice Sopher, a former Foodora courier and active member of the union, said the biggest issue was uncertainty: Food service employees knew nothing about the virus or how to protect workers and customers, gig workers didn’t know what benefits would apply to them (if any at all), and most troubling, they didn’t know what their options were.
“There was this idea that we had no choice but to keep working in an increasingly scary environment where (COVID-19) was just coming out of nowhere,” Sopher said.
For gig workers, sick days and traditional employment benefits were non-existent leading up to the pandemic.
Sick or not, workers would often push on knowing that taking time off would cost them a paycheque. This week, the federal government moved forward on talks to implement 10 sick days for all working Canadians to address this problem during the country’s recovery phase.
At its outset, the Canadian Emergency Relief Benefit (CERB) had most gig workers falling through the cracks. “Initially, when CERB came out, the fact that it didn’t really cover people who worked in gig work because if you made any kind of money at all within a certain period … you weren’t allowed to get $2,000 a month,” Sopher said.
“It doesn’t reflect how the gig economy works.”
After special interest groups urged the federal government to reconsider their policies, the benefit was expanded in mid-April to allow workers making less than $1,000 to be eligible. Despite the expansion, the benefit provides just 16 weeks of income, at $500 a week.
These benefits will also be an income tax liability down the road: The lowest tax rate is 15 per cent, so Canadians will be left paying hundreds or just over a thousand by tax season. For workers who get back into the office after being laid off for a few weeks, this tax burden won’t be an issue. But for a gig worker or freelancers with an uncertain employment future, this could set them back further.
Gig workers like Sopher and McKechnie are continuing to work with their union to provide financial supports and resources for workers like them.
“Because of the nature of the gig economy, if we weren’t out there doing that, these people would have absolutely nobody, absolutely no support,” Sopher said.
Along with working for Foodora, Sopher had also been working shifts at Uber Eats, so he’s managed to keep his income from that job. McKechnie is receiving CERB and has plans to start a courier co-op that would allow couriers to work on their own terms — not under those of an international tech company.
Michelle Keep, president of the Canadian Freelance Union, said freelancers have similar concerns to gig workers, whether they’re writers, actors or musicians who have found themselves with fewer clients or cancelled gigs.
“The primary thing of course is uncertainty,” Keep said. “Once we get to a return to work, I think a lot of people aren’t sure how that’s going to look and what supports will be available.”
Keep pointed out that many freelancers struggle with knowing what their legal rights are and face other challenges, like tax expertise.
She hopes talks to improve conditions for precarious workers will continue long after the worst of the pandemic has passed.
“I’m optimistic that this is going to push us toward greater solidarity and greater labour protections for freelancers and gig workers.”