Food delivery services in Luxembourg: Flexible for whom?

"They decrease the prices while petrol prices don't stop going up. Sometimes, there are a lot of orders, so […] after three days, [the fuel] is gone. I fill up the tank every three days, and for the prices of 1.80 per litre of petrol, it's a lot." An exhausted exhale escapes Ryan* (name changed by editors). "It's no longer profitable, in fact, not if you calculate the hours of work. I find that, realistically, I am paid 10 euros per hour." Last Friday, according to a press release by déi Lénk, an estimated 160 couriers boycotted work at Wolt from 11am onwards – a claim the company disputes, stating its internal data showed no disruption to service availability. Ryan reached out to Lëtzebuerger Journal, updating us that for many of them, last week's earnings were barely 50 euros for 10 hours of work.

As Wolt expands its footprint across 95 per cent of the Grand Duchy this year, the promise of the gig economy in the meantime leaves self-employed couriers to absorb the shock of fuel inflation and asset depreciation entirely out of pocket. Since 2022, Ryan has been one of countless couriers roaming the streets of Luxembourg, clocking up to eighty-hour weeks to deliver hot convenience to others to keep themselves afloat – that includes unpaid waiting time of up to six hours per day. According to a research note by the cellule scientifique of the Chamber of Deputies, about 41 per cent of the time devoted to platform work is unpaid.

Ryan notes that back when the local market consisted of early actors Wedely and Goosty, being a courier was actually quite profitable: Wedely used to secure couriers 15 euros per hour guaranteed for seven hours of work per day. "The beginning was good. Sometimes you would make 300 euros per day – I even know of people who made 10.000 in a month. But it's been degrading, prices have been decreased, and it's no longer the same thing."

When Ryan settled down in Luxembourg, finding work proved to be difficult – due to financial difficulties, he had not been able to complete his university studies. He found his way to delivery platforms through acquaintances, starting out using a friend's account before being able to acquire his self-employment status. "He had one main account and was paid 15 euros per hour. He could open five or six sub accounts and then hire people – I was one of them. It's illegal, I know, but I didn't have a choice, all I had was a student residence card [from my previous country of residence]. I worked and they took 20 per cent of what I earned in a week." He didn't mind all that much: he just wanted to do something other than staying at home.