Afternoon of July 1st
This morning, I went to Meituan’s dedicated delivery station, preparing to join as a Meituan delivery rider. Since I have previous experience as a dedicated delivery and crowdsourced delivery rider, I knew the onboarding process for dedicated riders, so I directly inquired with delivery personnel near my residence to find out the location of the delivery station, planning to understand the situation thoroughly before joining. The main purpose of this approach was to prevent being exploited through intermediaries (about how intermediaries and Meituan stations colluded to exploit riders even before onboarding, which can be detailed later).
Upon arriving at the station, I turned on my recorder in advance, because as is well known, Meituan’s labor protections are very poor, and there is not even a labor contract, so recording the specific working conditions here is important to prepare for future struggles. When I entered the station, I saw two station managers, whose status was basically that of supervisors, sitting in an air-conditioned room looking at computers (“dispatching” riders within the delivery range). The manager who negotiated with me looked to be in his twenties, but had the appearance of a small-time thug, with tattoos on his arms. As soon as I sat down, I also smelled a strong betel nut aroma.
Next, he handed me a two-page document. The first page detailed the specific working conditions at this station, including base pay, distance, weight, subsidies, etc. Below that was a naked hierarchy system. The station ranks riders based on the number of orders delivered per month, dividing them into about six levels. Riders of different levels receive different additional subsidies per order, with the last level receiving no extra subsidy. The second page was entirely about penalties for riders: not attending morning meetings, being late, absenteeism, not smiling in actions… Minor penalties included fines, and severe penalties included dismissal. Interestingly, the station manager also told me, “There aren’t many penalties,” and added, “as long as you don’t work hard enough.” Meituan’s dedicated delivery system is truly savage; in terms of labor protection, it has no labor contracts, only service agreements. Riders are outsourced, but in terms of discipline, they are strict—these fines are just excuses to deduct wages.
Later, I learned about the approximate delivery range of this station and expressed my intention to work here. He hardly asked anything, only inquiring about my name and phone number. It must be said that in today’s depressed job market, factories generally operate a 12-hour workday, and the service industry is almost not hiring. Only delivery stations seem to be “hiring happily.” Of course, this is not because Meituan, Ele.me, or JD.com provides employment for unemployed or semi-unemployed workers as “conscientious entrepreneurs.” The reason for such phenomena is that they all implement brutal piece-rate wage systems, requiring little labor supervision compared to other industries, allowing riders to generate large surplus value for them. China now has over ten million delivery riders. Are their lives good? In fact, the enormous number of delivery riders allows these capitalists to lower prices, research more demanding delivery and service conditions, and create more fines.
Soon, he arranged for me to be paired with a mentor who would take me out for two days. During these two days, I wouldn’t deliver orders myself but would follow my mentor to familiarize myself with the routes. After two days, I would officially join. Although I have previous delivery experience, I was still unfamiliar with the routes here and needed an experienced rider to guide me. I was added to a temporary WeChat group, and following my mentor’s instructions, I went to a location to meet him. Meeting my mentor, he appeared to be a rather complicated person. His first impression was that he was riding a very expensive electric motorcycle, also carrying a balance bike (used for entering neighborhoods where bikes are not allowed). He also had a “How to Train Your Dragon” doll hanging on his bike, indicating he wasn’t badly off and was somewhat influenced by bourgeois art and culture. After running with him for a while, the main conversation was about the order situation in this area. I learned that most nearby residential areas are quite “upscale,” with only one accessible by bike; the others require walking. There is also a large supermarket nearby, and he often receives orders from there, usually involving many heavy items. When I mentioned I had delivered before, he asked whether I often refused orders during my crowdsourced (part-time) work, because, according to him, data from Meituan’s dedicated delivery and crowdsourcing are interconnected. If you frequently refuse system-assigned orders in crowdsourcing, the system will reduce your order dispatch rate or assign you very difficult orders (like very far away). I understand that refusing orders often lowers dispatch rate, which is a way for Meituan to enforce discipline among riders (making the myth of “free” and “willing to deliver” completely a capitalist lie). But I had never known that dedicated delivery and crowdsourcing are interconnected. Later, while waiting for orders, I exchanged some thoughts with my mentor, mainly about the relationship between merchants and Meituan. It is well known that Meituan employs riders in two ways: dedicated delivery and crowdsourcing (the distinction is complex; I plan to explain in detail later, but simply, the former is full-time and the latter part-time). Merchants can also choose to join Meituan via dedicated or crowdsourced services. The former is mainly chosen by chain stores, and the latter by small producers. Today, I learned from my mentor that stores using dedicated delivery must pay at least 35% commission to Meituan. This figure is shocking, meaning most small producers cannot afford this commission. Both delivery methods involve brutal exploitation of riders and extortion of small producers, just in different ways. For dedicated delivery, if there is a delivery problem, the merchant does not need to compensate; only the rider does. For crowdsourcing, it is the opposite: riders usually bear no responsibility, and merchants must compensate.
During this process, I also observed my mentor. He came to this station last November, so he is an experienced rider. I saw that he watches videos, news, and short videos with loud music, explaining electric scooter features. When he encounters female riders from the same station, he jokes around with them, but I didn’t catch what exactly was said—only heard questions about orders or work situations. It also shows he has many skilled labor abilities. When I followed him to deliver an order to an apartment, at one point, when we arrived at a floor, he took off his helmet as he was leaving the elevator, placing it at the elevator door, which kept the door open. Then he quickly delivered the food without waiting for the elevator. These behaviors don’t clearly reveal his moral character yet; I need to observe and communicate more in the future. After 1 p.m., I returned home to rest and planned to go out again at 5 p.m.
