Four years have passed, and due to the economic downturn, the work of food delivery workers has become even more difficult.

Here is the English translation of the article, formatted for clarity and readability:

I. The Basics of Food Delivery

I just went ahead and did it.

The easiest option is working for Meituan Crowdsourcing (Zhongbao): no training required, just register, no time limits, no minimum workload, and daily payouts. Then there is Fengniao Crowdsourcing (formerly Ele.me), which is essentially the same.

Later, I also registered with Shansong (Flash Delivery), which is said to be the most standardized and humane platform. I went to Qilu Garden for a half-day training and spent 50 RMB (7.35 USD) on a badge, a vest, and a document bag. I skipped trying SF Same City since it's similar to Shansong and would have required spending more money.

Comparing these companies, Meituan is the most ruthless and holds the highest market share. Fengniao comes second. Shansong and SF are relatively gentler, but they have far fewer orders.

Meituan divides its riders into three tiers.

• Tier 1: Exclusive Delivery (Zhuan Song). These are the core, professional riders. They clock in at 9 AM and clock out at 9 PM. They keep their heads down and run the orders pushed by the system, making 3–4 RMB (0.44-0.59 USD) per order. These are all optimized, "good" orders. Pick-up locations are concentrated (e.g., picking up 5–6 meals at once on the fourth floor of Wanda Plaza). Drop-off locations are also concentrated (e.g., leaving 5–6 meals at a bank's front desk). The delivery distance is short, rarely exceeding 3 kilometers. The process is fast because they don't have to enter residential compounds, take elevators, climb stairs, or repeatedly call customers to confirm.

They have it relatively easy, but the downside is that they are not allowed to ask for leave. They get four days off a month, which must be reported a week in advance. The harsher the weather—wind, rain, or snow—the more punctual they are required to be. A bad review results in a fine of 200 to 500 RMB (30-70 USD), usually 500 (70 USD). That's how companies in China operate: wages are generally paid based on the lowest value of the range, while fines are the opposite, based on the highest value of the range.

There are no fines for late deliveries because the system calculates the time; the rider just has to run fast. They are supposed to work from 9 AM to 9 PM, but it's actually much longer. There's a morning meeting at 8:30 AM, and being late once costs 20 RMB (3 USD). Even at 9 PM, they can only clock out and go home after delivering all the food currently in their hands (orders are dispatched until 8:30 PM, so most don't clock out until 9:30 PM). In Linyi City, exclusive riders must work 12–14 hours a day, 26–28 days a month, earning an average of 6,000 RMB (880 USD). Those who work desperately hard can earn over 8,000 RMB (1180 USD), but that's money traded for their lives—driving 60 km/h the wrong way down streets and running red lights in the urban core.

• Tier 3: Crowdsourcing (Zhongbao). Exclusive delivery is hard, but the amateur crowdsourcing riders, situated at the lowest tier, have it even harder. The unit price per trip is 30% lower, and the orders are all the leftovers rejected by the exclusive riders—either remote or requiring a six-floor climb in a relocated residential compound with no elevator. Good orders are extremely hard to grab (the top two tiers get a 60-to-30-second priority advantage). Crowdsourcing riders work longer hours, face more dangers, and earn less. If they aren't obedient, the algorithm "deliberately" escorts them to marginal areas with no orders. The only advantage is that if you don't want to work, you can just lie at home; no one forces you to make money. The most desperate rider I know makes 7,000 RMB (1030USD) a month (working 15–16 hours a day, without a single day off all month).

I have a full-time job, so I could only do crowdsourcing part-time. During those days, I worked from morning to night on holidays. On workdays, I rode for two hours in the morning, and then after dinner until one, two, or even three in the morning. They pay a bit more at night, but the only places you can actually make money are remote. In the middle of the night, I rode to villages east of Xiangong Town, to Fangcheng, to villages in Lanling, and deep into the mountains of Yinan—all on country roads. I rode a motorcycle. It was too dark, the headlights didn't reach far, and sometimes I rode straight into a ditch. Once past Changchun Road, the night was filled with large trucks brushing past me, striking fear into my heart. Only after delivering the goods and riding back did I feel my hands go numb and realize I was freezing. Once, I was so cold that I parked the bike in a field and ran around in circles for a while. I checked Amap and saw I was nine kilometers due north of Linyi University; the journey home was still agonizingly long.

In one month, I delivered over 2,000 orders, interacted with hundreds of merchants, and knocked on over 2,000 doors. On average, I rode my motorcycle 210 kilometers, walked 32,000 steps, and climbed 110 floors every single day. That’s why, for that month, I consistently ranked first in step count on WeChat Sports.

Breaking Down the Earnings

Calculating comprehensively for the month, an hourly income of 10 RMB (1.5USD) is the norm, and 20 RMB (3USD) is the absolute limit.

• Average per order: 3.5 RMB (0.44 USD).
• Time cost per order: Traveling 2+3 km (pickup + delivery), 5 mins wait at the restaurant, 8 mins riding, 7 mins entering the compound and delivering to the door. Total: 20 mins.
• Standard rate: 3 orders/hour = 10.5 RMB/hour. (1.55 USD/hour)
• Optimized rate: Delivering 3 orders at once and arranging the route well saves 1/3 of the time, but you will be constantly rushed. Result: 4–5 orders/hour = 15.75 RMB/hour. (2.3 USD/hour)
• Absolute limit: Delivering 5–6 orders at once is only possible during peak lunch/dinner hours. It's nearly impossible to route them without being rushed. Result: 5–6 orders/hour = 19.25 RMB/hour. (2.8 USD/hour)

Regarding the items delivered, I have a few practical suggestions:

• Do NOT Deliver: Cakes, fresh flowers, winter BBQ, hospital deliveries, running errands (buying things for people), and definitely not grocery market errands. Avoid beer if possible. Do not accept transferred orders. Avoid pickups from Wanda or Taisheng Plazas.
• Best to Deliver: Supermarket items are better than food. Stationery and medicine are the absolute best. Light, durable special items are recommended.
• Use Caution: Exercise careful judgment before accepting long-distance or urgent orders.

II. Is Suffering a Fact or an Experience?

>"Poetry has only one reality: suffering."
— José Emilio Pacheco, A Poet's Love

I had no intention of conducting a formal sociological investigation; I just wanted to experience it.

The year 2022 was quite special. One report claimed that delivery riders in Shanghai could make over 1,000 RMB a day. Another report stated that a Deputy Director of the Beijing Human Resources and Social Security Bureau, Wang Lin, experienced life as a rider and made only 41 RMB (6 USD) in 12 hours. Which one was telling the truth? I thought I should try it myself to find out.

After doing it for a week, I felt Director Wang Lin's report was much closer to reality. If you have time, you can search for his specific account. However, I felt that making 41 RMB (6 USD) in 12 hours cannot sustain a livelihood, let alone in Beijing. Director Wang Lin's experience was a bit short; had he worked for a month or so, I estimate he could have earned three to four thousand RMB a month. Otherwise, how could one survive?

I experienced it for a month. I kept a daily income record (before deducting the daily 3 RMB (0.44 USD) insurance fee and 25 RMB (3.68 USD) motorcycle gas fee). By the 20th day, I had risen to the highest tier of crowdsourcing rider, and I was very familiar with the roads (I memorized the residential compounds in urban Linyi and the surrounding townships; I no longer needed navigation. For the compounds I visited frequently, I would silently memorize the layout of the building numbers on my way home to increase my walking speed). I was basically a highly skilled rider. The labor intensity and specific income were roughly as I described above.

But my primary focus was on the actual predicament of the "delivery rider" identity. I wanted to know how a person feels, copes with, and ruminates on these encounters while doing this job. Physical suffering is one aspect—though I hadn't experienced it in a long time—but the main issue was enduring insults.

Nobody looks a delivery rider in the eye—not the merchants, not the customers, and especially not the security guards. My acquaintances didn't know I was doing this; only the security guards in my own residential compound did. Seeing me leave early, return late, and come back in the middle of the night, they refused to let me in. I told them I was a homeowner; they followed me on their bikes to the bottom of my building, watched me go up, and mocked, "You can afford to buy a house here just by delivering food? You're quite a character." Many customers looked at me as if I were a beggar. Some customers were simply beasts in human skin. I used to hate these people, but over time, I forgot them all.

A few times, I was almost recognized. Once was at Wanda Plaza. While picking up an order, a young couple nearby said, "That delivery guy sounds just like Teacher Xing." I thought to myself, they must be good kids who love listening to my lectures. Another time, I delivered snail noodles to Baode New Domain in the middle of the night. The man who opened the door in his underwear was a former colleague. I recognized him, but he definitely didn't recognize me. I kept my helmet on.

I prefer to recall the warm moments. In this one month, delivering over two thousand orders, three people genuinely thanked me. One was a lady in the relocated Gu Cheng community. She said her child wanted wontons in the middle of the night, and she thanked me for making a special trip when it was so cold. Later, I saw she tipped me 2 RMB (0.3 USD). Another lady was from that village northeast of Xiangong Town. She and her husband, afraid I would get lost in the dark, walked me to the main intersection with a flashlight. Finally, there was an elderly couple staying in Building 5 of the People's Hospital. I accidentally spilled some of the food they had ordered for the patient, so I went and bought a second portion with my own money to deliver. They refunded me the money for the second portion and tipped me 10 RMB.

I am truly grateful to them. I wish them smooth sailing and all the best in everything.

III. What is the Monthly "Cost" to Exist Decently in Today's Society?

>"In the solitude where I dwell, there is ample time
To ponder the question of hope:
Whether one day
Our lives Will no longer be, as Hobbes said,
Merely nasty, brutish, and short?"
— José Emilio Pacheco, The Report of Jonah

Let's look at the invisible control structures of these food delivery companies in China:

The headquarters subcontracts all cities to urban operators, who then subcontract further. This is a very specific structure that is strictly prohibited in many countries. KFC and McDonald's have their own delivery fleets: whether full-time or part-time, they are formally contracted, receive full social insurance and housing funds, have company insurance for injuries, and never use a delivery countdown timer to force you to ride like the wind under the threat of docked pay or fines.

As for the major companies here (I won't explicitly name them), the reality is that if a rider gets into a car accident, the 3 RMB (0.44USD) daily insurance deducted from their pay (of which the company keeps 60% and only hands 1.2 RMB (0.18 USD) to the insurance company) provides a maximum of 6,000 RMB (880 USD) for injury or death. If that’s not enough, the district operator is supposed to cover it. If it’s still not enough for medical bills, the district operator simply runs away, and you can't even find them to sue. You can't sue the city operator, and you certainly can't sue the headquarters because it’s all "labor outsourcing"—they legally insulated themselves long ago. From what I understand, major casualty accidents like this happen every month.

As for sudden death from overwork, no level of management at the headquarters will pay attention—according to their terms, it has absolutely nothing to do with them. Suing is a waste of money. Not a single such lawsuit nationwide has been won by a rider.

The Reality of Fines

If a customer complains, you get hit with a heavy fine. This is discussed a lot online, so I won't belabor the point. Let me talk about another aspect of fines.

• Case Study 1: The App Glitch You complete an order perfectly. Then, while continuing your deliveries, the app prompts you that the previous order wasn't clicked as "delivered." You have no choice but to pull over and click it. The next day, you are fined for: "Clicking delivered at an anomalous location" or "Clicking delivered overtime." You can appeal, explaining that it wasn't overtime and you had already delivered it on time, and that it was a software glitch. The appeal is rejected. You get one more chance to appeal. You appeal again, and within seconds, it’s rejected again. You call manual customer service, and if you get through within an hour, you're lucky. If you do get through, the response is exactly the same. I encountered this exact situation twice in one month. The process was identical. Three chances to appeal were utterly useless, purely ornamental. I finally told the human customer service agent, "You can contact the customer directly to verify what really happened." It didn't matter; the money was still deducted. And the deducted money isn't refunded to the customer; it goes straight into the headquarters' pockets.
• Case Study 2: Errand Orders The delivery goes smoothly, and the customer is very satisfied. However, the customer doesn't know how to complete the "advanced payment" (money the rider fronted) on their phone. Because they can't find the payment page, the rider has to wait outside the door and can't rush them loudly. (Yelling or rushing is considered a "bad attitude" and carries a maximum fine of 500 RMB (73.5 USD)). The whole family searches for the payment portal inside the house. After waiting a long time, the system prompts that the delivery has exceeded the time limit. Overtime by one second? Deduct 40% of the errand fee. Overtime by five minutes? Deduct 60%. Yesterday, I waited on the stairs for nearly ten minutes before the customer completed the payment. Today, it showed an 80% deduction for that order, meaning I essentially did it for free—an 11-kilometer trip from the university town to Luozhuang.
• Case Study 3: The Restaurant Wait Once, I waited for the food (four dishes and a soup) after paying on behalf of the customer. After waiting half an hour without the first dish being ready, I called the manager to report it. They replied to keep waiting. When 45 minutes passed, I called again; they said the countdown would be extended by 15 minutes. When that countdown was almost up and I had been waiting 75 minutes, I called a third time. The reply was: "Negotiate with the customer, try your best to keep them satisfied so they don't complain." The customer was very understanding, saying, "Since it's already paid for, I'll just wait. The Spring Festival is coming up, I understand. I'll confirm receipt on my end first, just deliver it safely." The result? I woke up the next day to a red warning: Severe Violation, Fined 200 RMB (30 USD)! I started the appeal process. First level: rejected. Second level... Third level... Fourth level, reaching headquarters, where someone took my recorded statement over the phone. Still rejected. Finally, it reached the fifth and highest level—the General Manager of the Marketing Department at headquarters in Shanghai... Still rejected. The response was that the system showed that at the time the customer submitted a positive review, my GPS location was still at the restaurant. I argued, "The recorded explanation from the customer, the manager, and the photo of the food delivered to the customer's home have made the facts completely clear." The reply was no. He then asked me, "You've been appealing this for almost a whole day. In this time, if you just ran deliveries, you'd have almost made 200 RMB (30 USD). Why are you being so stubborn?" I told him over the phone, "You should watch the movie The Story of Qiu Ju; this isn't about the money." A while later, he called back and sent me a 15 RMB (2.2 USD) red envelope on WeChat, with a message: "I personally understand your experience, but the fine cannot be canceled. This 15 RMB is my personal, humanitarian compensation to you."

Are the profit margins of these globally renowned delivery companies really that tight?

This company is listed on NASDAQ in the US, with strict quarterly and annual financial reports. Since its inception more than a decade ago, it has hardly had a single profitable year. In 2018, it lost 115.5 billion (17b USD); in 2021, it lost 23.5 billion (34.55b USD); in 2022, it lost 6.7 billion (1b USD).

Seeing this financial report, I was just as astonished as anyone else. For every single takeout order, the merchant has to pay an additional 30% of the item's price as a delivery fee, and the customer pays a delivery fee of 0.5 RMB (0.074 USD) per kilometer. For example, if a customer orders a 20 RMB (3 USD) lunch 3 kilometers away, the customer pays 22 RMB (3.23 USD). The merchant gets 14 RMB (2 USD), the courier gets 3 RMB (0.44 USD), and the platform gets 5 RMB (0.74 USD). Why on earth are its losses so massive?

In 2021, its administrative expenses were 8.8 billion (1.3b USD), and R&D expenses were 16.7 billion(2.45b USD). In 2022, administrative expenses were 9.8 billion (1.44b USD), and R&D expenses were 20.8 billion (3.06b USD). This is where the money is bleeding out. All of its branch companies are outsourced. You can do the math on how many administrative staff the headquarters actually needs. Its platform is just a mobile app; you can also calculate how much R&D funding is truly needed to maintain it.

Sometimes, meticulously polished numbers mislead the world. They are not as reliable as our lived experiences. These riders do the most intense delivery work in the world for the lowest share of income; merchants withdraw in droves, refusing to accept such heavy commissions; the major shareholders transfer assets to mansions and yachts globally... This completely contradicts the data shown in these financial reports.

During my month of delivering food, I saw three female riders and several very old riders, the oldest of whom told me he was 66 this year. They cannot handle the intense labor of 14 hours a day, 365 days a year, so I estimate they make maybe 3,000 to 4,000 RMB (440~590 USD) a month. After the Spring Festival, I left the delivery ranks, but when I'm on the road, my eyes still catch their silhouettes first. Recently, I’ve seen more and more women and elderly riders racing like the wind against time. No matter how dangerous, bitter, or exhausting it is, they cannot afford to lose this income. The children at home, the elderly in hospital beds, the mortgage repayment texts from the bank... they are all reminding them: Run! Run faster!

One night, I was squatting at the door of a barbecue joint along the river, waiting for an order. Several Meituan riders were squatting next to me.

I asked one of them, "What's the hardest job out there right now?"

He said, "Delivering food for money is the hardest. Sorting at a logistics center is hard too, moving furniture is hard, carrying floor tiles upstairs is hard."

I asked him, "Is it harder than farming back home?"

He said, "Of course it's harder than farming. Farming is leisurely, but it brings in no money. Who the hell farms anymore?"

I asked, "Are these harder than doing construction?"

He replied, "Of course. In construction, a master mason makes two hundred a day, and a laborer makes one hundred eighty to two hundred. But can you actually get paid? You have work for half the year, and none for the other half. When you work until the end of the year and the foreman runs away, what kind of damn New Year are you supposed to have?"

I plan to try all these jobs. Do each one for a few months. To help my slick, vain heart lose some weight.

Is there a company that not only lets me earn a living but also teaches us something good? This is the biggest question in my mind.

Where does our extreme "involution" (neijuan) come from?

I researched the delivery industry abroad. In Japan, the starting rate for a delivery is 32 RMB (4.7 USD); in North America, it's 6 USD. Getting food delivered to your door abroad is very expensive. (The salary of senior intellectuals in Japan/North America is currently 2–3 times that in China. However, the income of bottom-tier laborers in Japan is 8–12 times that in China, and in North America, it's 10–15 times.) Furthermore, the standard practice abroad is that both parties can leave negative reviews: if a rider gets five negative reviews, their work is suspended for retraining. If a customer gets five negative reviews from riders, their account is banned for a year; they must pick up their food themselves. Disputes are handled by real humans within 2–6 hours. If unresolvable, both riders and customers can sue in court, and they can also sue the company. Winning a lawsuit against a company for "illegal fines" means achieving financial freedom for life (due to out-of-court settlements). Because their labor unions are extremely, incredibly powerful.

In contrast, the management systems of our delivery platforms share the exact same DNA as our "Great System." Bolstered by big data and artificial intelligence, its design has become perfectly precise. It can "just perfectly" acquire the right amount of laborers, and "just perfectly" allow the riders to maintain the most basic standard of living, preventing them from accumulating even the slightest capital to rest or make their money work for them. They are like donkeys, firmly tied to this millstone.

Isn't this exactly what Zygmunt Bauman wrote about in Work, Consumerism and the New Poor?

>"The new factory system needs only a part of a human being: the part that works within a complex machine like a soulless little cog. And those useless parts of a person, such as interests and ambitions, as well as the innate desire for freedom, are not only irrelevant to productivity but actively interfere with the useful parts required for production."

This is an analysis of the postmodern condition, and it is heart-wrenching. But what we are experiencing is an enhanced version, which is even more heart-wrenching.

Who exactly is preventing us from living a life with a minimum standard of decency?

IV. The "Information Cocoon" of Intellectuals

>

I don't think "intellectual" is a wonderful word. It's a neutral term—neither inherently good nor bad.

I don't think "intellectual" is a wonderful word. It's a neutral term—neither inherently good nor bad.

I spent many years in school, read many books, and got to know many scholars. But I feel that the more books one reads, the larger their blind spots become, inversely generating a baffling, arrogant disdain for the everyday world.

People at the bottom live in the information cocoon of the underclass; intellectuals live in the information cocoon of intellectuals. The two are often completely disconnected. Let me discuss this from another angle.

I come from a Catholic family. In high school, under immense pressure, I broke away from the church's grip. My mother often sighs and says, "You do these things more earnestly than the actual believers, why won't you return to the church?"

Why? Because I feel that "the essence has been exhausted, and all that remains can be discarded."

There is a saying in the Go (Weiqi) world: "If I don't enter hell, who will?" This is the core of Catholic faith. Having this conviction is the most crucial thing. I have seen many believers who claim to strictly follow the commandments. Even if their words match their deeds, I don't like them: passively submitting to certain rules while their hearts are filled with selfish desires. Isn't this missing the forest for the trees?

A sustainable world must understand human limitations and understand that wealth is fluid. At the very least, one must understand that all classes of society must develop in balance; draining the pond to catch all the fish will inevitably lead to ruin. When Max Weber talked about the "generosity" of the Puritans, it wasn't just because of their moral pursuits, but primarily because they recognized that they had to yield a portion of profits to others to maintain the stable operation of the system.

To speak on a broader scale, the endpoint of the world is "Emptiness" (Emptiness is not nothingness). The "Emptiness" I understand is the cycle of life and death, endlessly repeating, not existing forever for one specific person or one specific family. Acquiring vast amounts of money is somewhat interesting, but ultimately not that interesting.

The ancients said: It is easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go from luxury to frugality. Common folks say: Humans are lazy bones; we can go up, but we can't come down.

It is indeed true. Nearing the age of fifty, I feel myself becoming increasingly delicate, increasingly pretentious, increasingly bad-tempered, and increasingly impatient. If I continue to develop like this, I am going to end up in hell.

Eileen Chang once wrote that during the Lantern Festival one year, Hu Lancheng accompanied her wandering around the suburbs of Shanghai. They ducked into a shed to listen to a wandering theater troupe sing rural opera. In the freezing winter, the actresses were red with cold, their voices hoarse, tracing their eyebrows and changing costumes on a dirt mound behind the curtain. After watching for a while, Hu Lancheng said, "Let's go." Eileen Chang said, "You go. I want to watch a little longer."

Later, she recalled this incident while in America. She said, "I felt a profound shock. These are women with true vitality. No matter how hard or poor life gets, even if the whole world shatters and collapses, it cannot stop them from living on, just like wild weeds."

It is indeed true.

神棍和川普轮流发癫炒作了快三个月，不断烂尾又不断再起

不会拖到年底都达不成协议吧

去年辞职，处理家事导致没有考研。

今年即使考研成功，明年开学也要25岁了。同龄人可能都研究生毕业了，同一届的同学也都少2、3岁。再叠加这两年既没有工作也没有学业。再过10年就要到35岁就业斩杀线了。

有没有大龄考研的友友分享一下人生经历……

邢斌

一、外卖的基本情况

说干就干。

最简单的是跑“美团众包”: 不用培训，注册就行，不限时间，不规定最低工作量，收入一天一结。还有“蜂鸟众包(以前是饿了吗)。基本同上。

后来又注册了“闪送”(据说这家最规范最人性化)。去齐鲁园培训了半天，花了50块钱买了工牌、马甲、文件袋。

“顺丰同城”，和“闪送”差不多，就不再体验了，否则还得花一份钱。

这几家相比较，美团最狠，市场占有率最高。蜂鸟次之，闪送和顺丰相对温和但生意不多。

美团把骑手分三个等级。

核心是美团专送，职业骑手。每天九点打卡上班，晚上九点下班。埋头跑系统推送的单子，每单3-4元。都是优化过的好单。取餐处集中，比如说上万达四楼，一圈拿5-6个餐。派送处集中，比如说送到某银行前台一次放5-6份餐。派送距离短，不超过3公里。派送时间短，因为取餐省时间、放餐可以直接放前台，不用进小区、上电梯、爬楼、给顾客反复打电话确认。

他们相对轻松一些。但不好处是不准请假，每个月允许歇四天，歇哪天得提前一星期报备，越是刮风下雨下雪越要求准时派送。接到差评罚款200-500，一般罚500。

送餐迟到不罚款因为是系统计算出来的，人只管快跑就是。说是早九点干到晚九点，实际上还要长。上午八点半开早会，迟到一次扣20。晚上到九点了，手里的餐送完才能打卡回家 (一般到八点半还会继续派单，多数都是九点半才能打卡回家)。在临沂城，专送每天必须干12-14小时，一个月必须干26-28天，平均能挣6000。特别拼命的能挣8000多，都是市区60码逆行闯红灯拿命换的。

专送很苦，但业余送外卖的众包骑手更苦，处于最低的第三级。送一趟单价低30%，单子都是专送挑剩下的，不是偏就是远，要么就是要去没有电梯的搬迁小区爬六楼送上门。好单很难抢到 (上两层有60-30秒的提前抢单优先权)。众包工作时间更长，更危险，挣的更少，不听话就被“针对性”礼送到没有订单的边缘地区。好处是不想干就回家躺着，没人强迫你挣钱。我了解的最拼命的，每个月能挣7000 (每天干15-16个小时，一个月一天不歇)。

我有本职工作，只能干业余的众包。这些天我假日就从早干到晚，工作日早晨跑两小时，晚饭后再跑到夜里一两点，或者两三点。夜里给钱多一些，能挣到钱的都是偏远地方。半夜里我跑到过相公镇东边的村里，跑到方城，跑到兰陵村子里，跑到沂南山里面，都是乡间小路。都是骑摩托。太黑，灯书院照不远，有时候就骑到了沟里。一过长春路，夜里都是大货车，擦身而过，心里也打怵。送完货，骑车回来，才觉得手麻觉得冻得不行。有一次我实在太冷了，就把车停在田里，绕着跑了一阵，看看高德地图，在临沂大学正北九公里，回家还很漫长。

一个月，我送了2000多单，接触了几百个商家，敲响了2000多个房门。平均下来每天骑摩托210公里、步行32000步、爬110层楼。所以我那个月微信运动里每天都是步行最多的。

这个月综合算下来，每小时收入10元是常态，每小时收入20元是极限。

平均每单3.5元，要取货送货2+3公里，取货平均等5分钟，骑车8分钟，送货进小区上门平均7分钟，共20分钟。一小时3单,10.5元。

一次送3单，排列好次序，能节省1/3时间。但会被催。一小时能送4-5单，15.75元。一次送5单，适用于午餐晚餐的集中送餐时间。很难排列好次序不被催促。基本上就是极限值。略微提升单位时间的收入，一小时还是送5-6单，19.25元。好处是能最大化高峰期的送餐量。

关于送的货品，我有一些小的建议: 蛋糕不建议送。鲜花，不建议送。冬天不要送烧烤。万达、泰盛，不建议取货。医院，不建议送。代买，不建议送。菜市场代买，坚决不送。啤酒，最好不送。转单，不能接。一超市用品，比送餐好。文具、药品，最佳。轻便而不易损坏的特殊用品，建议送。长途，加急，谨慎判断。

二、痛苦，是一件事实，还是一种体验？

诗歌只有一种现实: 痛苦

——帕切科《诗人之恋》

我无心于调查，就是想体验体验。

2022年很特殊。一份报道里讲，在上海骑手送外卖每天能赚1000多。另一份报道又说，北京人社局一位副处长，王林，亲身体验当外卖骑手，送餐12小时赚了41元。究竟哪个说真的?我想，应该亲身试试才知道真伪。

干了一周，我觉得王林处长那篇报道更真实。大家有时间可以搜一下看看他的具体讲述。不过，我觉得12小时赚41元，这根本不能维持生活，何况在北京。王林处长体验得有些短，他要是干上个把月，我估计每个月能赚个三四千块钱。要不，他怎么活？

我体验了一个月。这张纸上是我每天记录的收入情况 (没有去除每天3元保险费和25元摩托车油费)。跑到第20天的时候，我上升到了众包骑手的最高级别，路也很熟了(临沂市区的小区和周边的乡镇都牢记了,不需要看导航。经常去的小区，我每天回家都默背一阵具体楼号编排次序，提高步行送餐速度)，基本上算是很熟练的骑手了。劳动强度和具体收入情况，大致如此。

但我主要关注的是外卖员这个“身份”究竟是怎样的处境。体验这个工作过程中人是如何感受、应对、反刍这些遭遇的。肉体受罪是一方面，虽然很久没有这种体验了；主要的还是受人辱骂。

没有人拿正眼看送外卖的，商家，顾客，尤其是保安。熟人都不知道我最近在干这个，只有我们小区的保安知道。他们天天见我早出晚归半夜回来，不让我进。我说我是业主;他们骑车跟着我到楼下看我上楼，说你送外卖都能在这儿买起房，是个人物。很多顾客看我的眼神就像看要饭的。有的顾客就是披着人皮的畜生。我曾经痛恨过这些人，后来慢慢都忘了。

有几次，差点就被人认出来了。一次是在万达。我取餐的时候，旁边有一对小情侣说那个送外卖的说话好像邢老师啊。我心想肯定是爱听我课的好孩子。还有一次，我半夜送螺狮粉到宝德新领域，开门的男士穿着内衣，他是我的前同事。我认出了他，他肯定没认出我。我戴着头盔。

我更愿意回忆起温暖的瞬间。这一个月，我送了两千多单，有三个人真诚地感谢过我。一个是搬迁小区古城社区的一位女士。她说半夜里孩子想吃馄饨，天这么冷谢谢我专程送来。后来我发现她又打赏了我2块钱。还有一位，也是女士，就是相公镇东北那个村里的。他们夫妻俩怕我半夜里找不着路，打着手电把我送到了路口。还有一对夫妻，老人住在人民医院五号楼，心脑血管疾病中心。我把他们给老人定的餐洒了一些，后来我又买了一份送去。他们俩把第二份餐的钱退给我，又打赏了我10块钱。

真的很感谢他们。祝愿他们事事顺利，吉祥如意。

三、今天，我们体面地存在于社会中,究竟需要每月多少“成本”？

在我栖息的孤独中有充裕的时间

来思考希望的问题：

能否有一天

我们的生命

不再像霍布斯所说

只是污秽、野蛮与短暂的?

——帕切科《约拿报告》

我们看一下中国这几家外卖公司的隐形控制结构：

外卖公司总部把所有城市都分包给每个城区的运营商，然后运营商再次分包。这是一种非常特殊的结构，很多国家是不允许这样操作的。肯德基、麦当劳它们都有自己的外卖队伍: 无论专职还是业余，都有正式签约.有五险一金，受伤有公司保险，从不设置送餐倒计时催促你飞马赶到否则亏款罚款。

——我们这几家公司 (在此我不便说它们的名字)，实际情况就是，骑手出车祸了，每天扣的3元保险 (公司扣了60%，只把1.2元交给保险公司) 提供最高6000块钱的伤亡保险。不够了，县区运营商承担。还不够治病，县区运营商直接跑路，你起诉都找不到人。起诉城市的运营商都起诉不了，外卖公司总部根本起诉不着，因为都是“劳动外包”，它把自己早隔离出去了。这种重大伤亡事故，据了解城区每个月都有。

猝死，外卖公司总部所有阶层的管理都不会——按照他们的条款，这与外卖公司理睬，总部毫无关系，起诉都是白花钱。全国起诉的都没一个赢的。

罚款的问题。——顾客投诉，会被重罚。这个网上讨论很多，我就不赘述了。我说下另个关于罚款的问题。

比如说：案例一。

这一单完成得很好，很完美。然后继续送的过程中，软件提示说上一个订单没有点击送达。你只好停下了点击。第二天就会被罚款：异地点击送达，或者超时点击送达。可以投诉说，没有超时，而且当时已经点击了送达，这是软件又跳出来的问题。投诉无效。还有一次申诉机会。再次申诉也秒回，无效。打人工客服电话，一个小时内能联系上就是幸运的。联系上了，还是同样的回复。

这样的情况我一个月遇到两次，程序完全一样，三次申诉机会没一点点用，完全是摆设。我最后对人工客服(是个活人) 说，你们可以直接联系顾客看真实情况是怎样的。没用，依旧扣钱。而且扣的钱也不返还顾客，都进了外卖公司总部腰包。

案例二：跑腿单。

送达过程顺利，顾客非常满意。但是顾客不会在手机上完成“垫付款。顾客找不到如何支付垫付的页面，骑手就得在门外等着，也不好大声催促。(大声催促是态度不好，是要被顶格罚款的，罚500) 。一家人在屋内找垫付款入口。等了好久，系统提示说送达已经超时。超时一秒钟，扣跑腿费用40%。超时五分钟，扣跑腿费60%。昨天我在楼梯上等了快十分钟，顾客才完成支付。今天显示那一单扣款80%白送了，从大学城附近到罗庄，11公里。

有一次，在小海螺，替顾客代付餐费后等餐(四菜一汤)，等了半小时第一份菜还没做，打电话给经理报备，回复说继续等待等到45分钟还没出菜，再打电话给经理报备，回复说倒计时宽限15分钟；等到倒计时都快走完了，我已经等了75分钟，再打电话给经理报备，回复说和顾客商量，尽量让顾客满意别投诉。

顾客很体谅，说: 既然已经付款了，等一等就再等一等吧，快春节了，人多，理解；我先在家把收货确认了，你安心送来就行。

结果第二天一起床，就看到红色警告: 严重违规，罚款200元！怎么办，开始申诉呗。从第一级开始申诉，填单、录音、截图上报。被打回，申诉无效。第二级申诉….第三级申诉….第四级申诉，到总部了，有人电话录音取证；最后还是申诉无效。最后到第五级，最高级，总部市场部总经理，上海，…..还是申诉无效，答复说系统显示顾客填写好评的时间，我的定位还在饭店。

我说刚才发给你的顾客专门录音的情况说明、大堂经理的录音情况说明、顾客接餐到家的照片已经把事实讲清楚了。回复说不行。同时反问我，你申诉了快一整天了,有这时间，你跑一天外卖，也快赚200块钱了，干嘛这么轴?

我在电话里对这位总经理说，你应该看过一部电影，叫《秋菊打官司》;这不是钱的问题。

过了一会儿，他打电话过来，说发了一个红包给我，请接收。我点开，15元红包，留言说我个人理解你的经历，但罚款不能取消这15块钱算是我个人的一个人道主义补偿。

——这几家全球知名的外卖公司，盈利能力真有这么紧张吗?

这家公司在美国纳斯达克上市，有严格的季度财报和年度财报。我们打开看一下。它自创办以来，十几年几乎没有一年是盈利的。18年亏损1155亿，21年亏损235亿，22年亏损67亿。

我看到这个财报，心里和大家一样，非常惊讶。因为每一单外卖，商家需要额外支付货品价格30%的送货费用，顾客需要支付每公里0.5元的送货费用。举个例子，午餐定一个20元的饭，3公里，顾客支付20+2=22元;商家拿到14元，快递员拿到3元，外卖公司拿到5元。大概抽成比例是这样。它究竟为何亏损如此之大呢?

我们还是看财报。21年，它行政开支88亿、研发开支167亿。22年，它行政开支98亿、研发开支208亿。钱都从这里流走了。它的所有分公司都是外包出去的，总部平台需要多少行政人员大家可以统计一下。它的平台，就是一个手机APP，每年需要多少研发费用来支撑，大家也可以统计一下。

有时候，精心修订过的数字会误导世界。还不如我们日常的体验。这些骑手干着全世界强度最大的外卖工作，拿着最低比例的收入;商家一批一批退出，不再接受它这么重的抽成;它的大股东们在全世界豪宅游艇转移资产……和这些财报数据显示的完全不符。

送外卖的一个月里，我见到了3个女性外卖员，见到了几位年龄很大的外卖骑手，最大的一位对我说今年66岁了。他们承担不了每天14小时、全年无休这么大强度的劳动，我估计他们每个月能赚个3、4000块钱。春节过后，我离开了外卖队伍，但在路上我还是首先注意到他们的身影。最近几个月，我看到了越来越多的女性和老人骑手风驰电掣争分夺秒。可能再危险再苦再累，他们也离不开这3、4000块钱的收入。家里的孩子、病床上的老人、银行发来的房贷还款短信……都在提醒着他们: 跑起来，快些跑!有天夜里，我在彷河边上一家烧烤店门口蹲着，等老板出餐。旁边还蹲着好几个美团骑手。

我问他，现如今啥活最苦? 他说，送外卖挣钱最苦，还有快递中心搞分拣也苦，搬家搬货也苦，扛地板砖上楼也苦。

我问他，比老家种地苦不? 他说，当然比种地苦了，种地清闲，又不来钱，种屁的地。我问他，这几样比干建筑活苦不? 他说，当然比干建筑活苦了，千建筑活，大工一天二百，小工一天一百八到二百;但你能拿到钱不? 半年有活，半年没活，干到年底工头跑了，过年，过屁年。我准备把这几样都干一遍。每一样干几个月。给自己油头粉面的内心减减肥。

是否有一种公司，不仅能让我赚钱糊口，还能教我们学点好的东西?这是我心中最大的疑问。

我们这种极度内卷源自哪里，谁能告诉我?

我查证了国外快递业的具体情况。日本送一单起价是32元 (人民币)，北美送一单起价是6美元。所以国外让外卖送到家是很贵的。(高级知识分子的薪水，目前日本是国内的2-3倍，北美也是国内的2-3倍。但底层劳动者的收入，目前日本是国内的8-12倍，北美是国内的10-15倍。) 而且，国外的通例是双方都可以差评投诉:骑手被差评五次，要暂停工作重新培训。顾客被骑手差评五次，会被系统封号一年，不能再点外卖，必须自己去取。双方如果投诉，系统提供的都是真人接听电话，2-6小时反馈意见。调解不了，骑手和顾客都可以拿着证据去法院起诉，也可以起诉公司。像起诉公司“违规罚款”、“歧视”这种官司，打赢了一辈子就财务自由了 (一般都会收到公司钱庭外和解) 。因为那些工会，不是一般的厉害，是非常非常厉害。

而我们这些外卖总部的管理系统，与刚才说的那些人性化的公司比较，内核完全不同。

我们这些公司很特殊，就是我们这个“大系统”的具体而微，基因完全一样。它的一切设计，在大数据和人工智能的加持下，变得更精密、更准确，“恰好”能获取适量的劳动者，“恰好”能让骑手们维持最基本的生活，让他们积累不下休养生息、以钱养钱的些微资本，像驴一样，被牢牢拴在这台磨上。

这不就是齐格蒙特-鲍曼在《工作、消费主义和新穷人》里写的那样吗?“新的工厂系统需要的只是人的一部分，是身处复杂机器之中，如同没有灵魂的小齿轮一样工作的那部分。而人身上那些无用的部分，比如兴趣和雄心，还有天性中对自由的渴望，不仅与生产力无关，还会干扰生产需要的那些有用的部分。”这是关于后现代状况的分析，令人揪心。而我们遭遇的，是加强版，更令人揪心。

究竟谁在阻碍我们过上有最低体面水准的生活？

四、知识分子的“信息茧房

复仇是世界的主旋律

人犯我，我犯人，人再犯我

我们永续这无尽循环

——帕切科《牢笼》

我不觉得知识分子是一个多么美好的词。——它就是个中性词，既不好，也不坏。

我读了很多年书，读了很多书，结识了很多读书人。但我觉得读书越多，盲区越大，反而会生成一种鄙视日常世界的莫名奇妙的自负。

底层人生活在底层的信息茧房;知识分子生活在知识分子的信息茧房。两者经常是不相通的。

我从另一个角度谈谈这个问题。

我来自于一个天主教家庭。读高中的时候，我顶着巨大压力，离开了教会的钳制。母亲经常叹息说，这些事你做得比教徒还认真，为什么不回到教会里?

为什么呢？我觉得“精华已尽皆堪弃”。

这是围棋世界里的一句话。——我不入地狱谁入地狱?这是天主教信念的核心。有这个信念是最关键的。我见过很多自称严格遵循戒律的教徒。就算他们言行一致，我也不喜欢: 被动地屈服于某些戒律，内心却充满了私欲，这不是买椟还珠吗?

一个可持续发展的世界，应该理解人的有限性，理解财富是流动不居的。最起码，得理解世界各阶层必须平衡发展，竭泽而渔必将鸡飞蛋打。说他们之所以慷韦伯谈到清教徒的“慷慨”慨，不仅仅因为道德追求，主要是认识到必须让渡一部分利润给他人，才能维持系统的稳定运行。

说得远一点，世界的终点是“空”(空不是无)。我所理解的“空”，是生灭灭生，循环往复，不为某人某姓永远独存。获取大量金钱，有点意思，但也没太大意思。

以前古人说，由俭入奢易，由奢入俭难。老百姓爱说，人就是懒骨头，能上不能下。

确实是这样的。年近半百，我感觉自己越来越娇气，越来越矫情，越来越脾气坏，越来越没耐心。这样发展下去，是要下地狱的。

张爱玲说，有年元宵节，胡兰成陪着她到上海郊区闲转悠，钻进一个棚子里听流浪剧团唱野戏。寒冬，那些女演员冻得红彤彤的，嗓子都冻哑了，就在幕布后面土堆上描眉换装。看了一会儿，胡兰成说走吧。张爱玲说，你走吧，我再看会儿。

后来，张爱玲在美国回忆这件事。她说，我感到震撼，这才是真正有生命力的女人，再苦再穷，大世界天崩地裂，也挡不住她们活下去，就像野草一样。

确实如此。

卑鄙是卑鄙者的通行证，
高尚是高尚者的墓志铭，
看吧，在那镀金的天空中，
飘满了死者弯曲的倒影。

冰川纪过去了，
为什么到处都是冰凌？
好望角发现了，
为什么死海里千帆相竞？

我来到这个世界上，
只带着纸、绳索和身影，
为了在审判之前，
宣读那些被判决的声音。

告诉你吧，世界
我--不--相--信！
纵使你脚下有一千名挑战者，
那就把我算作第一千零一名。

我不相信天是蓝的，
我不相信雷的回声，
我不相信梦是假的，
我不相信死无报应。

如果海洋注定要决堤，
就让所有的苦水都注入我心中，
如果陆地注定要上升，
就让人类重新选择生存的峰顶。

新的转机和闪闪星斗，
正在缀满没有遮拦的天空。
那是五千年的象形文字，
那是未来人们凝视的眼睛。

万策尽，只能与小强共存了。

心理学等方法都可以

许多种语言
在这世界飞行
碰撞，产生了火星
有时是仇恨
有时是爱情

理性的大厦
正无声地陷落
竹篾般单薄的思想
编成的篮子
盛满盲目的毒蘑

那些岩画上的走兽
踏着花朵驰去
一棵蒲公英秘密地
生长在某个角落
风带走了它的种子

许多种语言
在这世界飞行
语言的产生
并不能增加或减轻
人类沉默的痛苦

Being crooked is the badge for the crook to be passing around,

Being noble is the epitaph for the noble to be under the grave ground.

Look, among that golden-plated sky,

The bending inverted images of dead ones are floating to fully occupy.

The glacial epoch has been over,
Why icicles are in everywhere?

Good Hope Corner was discovered long time ago,
Why in the Dead Sea a thousand sails are racing each other?

I came into this world,
Brought paper, rope and my shadow alone
In order to announce and read the  voices of these defendants,

Before the final trail is to be thrown

Let me tell you, the world,

I--DO--NOT--BELIEVE

Even if there are one thousand challengers under your feet,

Count me as the one thousand and first that you will receive.

I do not believe that the sky is blue,

I do not believe the thunders' reverberation,

I do not believe the dreams are fake,
I do not believe after death there are no retributions.

If the sea is doomed to break its levees,
Then all the bitter waters let my heart gain,

If the land is destined to rise high,

Then how to survive in higher peaks Let human beings choose again.

The new turning opportunities and the twinkling stars,

Are spreading on the none-covering sky as decorations,

These are pictograph characters of five-thousand years old,
These are the gazing eyes of the future generations.

卑鄙是卑鄙者的通行证，

高尚是高尚者的墓志铭，

看吧，在那镀金的天空中，

飘满了死者弯曲的倒影。

冰川纪过去了，

为什么到处都是冰凌？
好望角发现了，
为什么死海里千帆相竞？

我来到这个世界上，
只带着纸、绳索和身影，
为了在审判之前，
宣读那些被判决的声音。

告诉你吧，世界

我--不--相--信！
纵使你脚下有一千名挑战者，
那就把我算作第一千零一名。

我不相信天是蓝的，

我不相信雷的回声，

我不相信梦是假的，

我不相信死无报应。

如果海洋注定要决堤，

就让所有的苦水都注入我心中，

如果陆地注定要上升，
就让人类重新选择生存的峰顶。

新的转机和闪闪星斗，
正在缀满没有遮拦的天空。
那是五千年的象形文字，
那是未来人们凝视的眼睛。