u/TerribleAssumption

I’m an Uber driver. I provide the car, pay for gas, maintenance, tires, insurance and depreciation. I deal with traffic, strangers and the risks of the road.

Meanwhile, Uber keeps taking more while charging passengers more.

Drivers were once promised around 80% of the fare. Now, Uber’s cut can exceed 50% of what the passenger pays. I’ve seen a passenger pay $47 while I receive just $9.
And then there’s the insurance excuse.

Uber tells us high fares and low driver pay are because of expensive commercial insurance. But Uber operates its own captive insurer in Hawaii, Aleka Insurance, and reportedly keeps about 95% of those premiums within its corporate structure. The insurance fees can be enormous, sometimes reaching 45% of a ride.

Even worse, those fees appear to track the price of the ride more than the actual risk.

The passenger pays more. Uber takes more. I get less.

And those “customer promotions” Uber offers passengers? Drivers end up paying for those discounts too. When Uber gives a passenger a promotional fare, the discount come directly out of the driver’s share of the trip.

So Uber gets to look generous to the passenger while making the driver absorb the cost.

Then there’s liability. In California, Uber successfully pushed legislation reducing uninsured motorist liability from $1 million to $60,000, a 94% reduction. Insurance costs dropped, yet passenger fares went up and driver pay stayed flat.

I’m the one putting the miles on my car. I’m the one paying the bills. I’m the one taking the risk.

Uber is squeezing both sides of the ride.

Passengers are paying more.
Drivers are earning less.
And Uber keeps finding new ways to take the difference.
We aren’t partners. We’re the ones financing the machine.

Uber is taking the drivers for a ride.

Behind the Wheel: The Freedom of the Open Road or Modern-Day Exploitation?

I used to think there was a certain freedom to this job. No boss breathing down my neck, no spreadsheets, no PowerPoint presentations—just me and the road.
But as the miles rack up on my odometer and the maintenance lights on my dashboard start blinking, that “freedom” is starting to feel a lot like a trap.

I’m an Uber driver, and I’ve realized that while I’m the one navigating the traffic and dealing with the danger, I’m actually working for a ghost in the machine that takes more than half of what I earn.

The Math That Doesn’t Add Up

Every morning, I check my car. I pay for the oil changes, the new tires, and the constant wear and tear that comes with driving hundreds of trips to places like the Syracuse airport. I maintain my own auto insurance, yet Uber still tacks on a massive “commercial insurance” fee to every ride.

When I first started, the deal seemed clear: drivers were promised about 80% of the fare. But things changed. Uber’s algorithm is now a “black box” that no one outside the company can see.

Today, I see the “take rate”—Uber’s cut—skyrocket. In some cases, Uber’s take now exceeds 50% of what the passenger pays.

I’m the one doing the work, but Uber is the one getting rich.

The “Hidden Fare” Shell Game

The most insulting part is the “commercial insurance” fee. Uber tells the public that rising fares and falling driver pay are due to the high cost of insurance. They claim this fee accounts for about 20% of the fare nationally, and in places like Los Angeles, it can eat up 45% of a ride.

But here’s the secret I learned: Uber isn’t just paying an outside company for this insurance. They own the company.

Uber operates a “captive insurer” in Hawaii called Aleka Insurance. 95% of the premiums stay inside Uber. It’s essentially a department of the company, and its books are sealed from public view.

What’s even worse is how they calculate this fee.
You’d think insurance would be based on risk—the weather, the time of day, or the length of the trip. Instead, analysis of thousands of rides shows the fee tracks the price of the ride and driver pay.

If Uber charges the passenger more, the “insurance fee” goes up, even if the risk remains exactly the same.
It’s a profit machine hidden behind a line item on a receipt.

Risking Everything for Crumbs

Every day, I deal with the reality of the road. I navigate heavy traffic and occasionally encounter unpleasant or even dangerous passengers.

While I’m out here facing these risks, Uber is busy lobbying statehouses to cut their own liability.
In California, they successfully lobbied for legislation that slashed what they owe if a passenger is hurt by an uninsured motorist by 94%—from $1 million down to just $60,000.

They claimed this would lower costs for everyone, but after the law passed, insurance costs for the industry dropped while rider fares actually increased and driver pay stayed flat.

Now, they are pushing for national amendments that would shift even more liability onto us, the drivers, for anything over $1 million, unless we can prove Uber was “grossly negligent.”

A System of Exploitation

It feels like a modern form of captive labor.

I provide the vehicle, I take the physical risks, and I bear the costs of maintenance and fuel. Meanwhile, Uber uses an invisible algorithm to squeeze my earnings and funnels “insurance fees” back into its own pocket through a shell company in Hawaii.

I see my passengers—people just trying to get to work or the doctor—paying $40 for a short trip, and I know I’m only seeing a fraction of that.

I want to be a professional, safe driver, but it’s hard to feel like a partner when you realize you’re just a gear in a machine designed to extract every cent of profit from your labor.

We aren’t just driving; we’re being taken for a ride.