All Hail the War on Taxis?: St. Louis’ Cab Services Need Competition, Not Chaos

The Era of Hipster Ridesharing is upon us, and with it comes a blunt message to cities like St. Louis: You can cling to your stinking taxicabs like candlemakers flailing at electricity, or you can get with the program.

That would be the “sharing economy,” wherein real people like you and me rent our cars, homes, and other underused assets to other real people, thus sparing the environment and our pocketbooks from the vagaries of tired, 20th-century institutions like taxis and hotels, which aren’t real people at all. In the case of the automobile, start thinking of your passenger seat as a social platform.

It all started with a smart concept—actually, a smartphone concept: Build an app to create a community of drivers and passengers, all with their essential information stored in advance, then allow them to connect with one another when one person needs a ride and another is available to provide it. It’s such a good idea that two of the companies advancing it, Uber and Lyft, practically sprang up overnight as instant corporate giants by raising hundreds of millions of dollars in venture capital.

Here’s the rub, though: Not only do these companies prefer not to be labeled a corporate enterprise—they favor the words “community” and “movement”—they also reject the notion that they are in the business heretofore known as livery. We’re not operating taxicabs, they say, so don’t bother us with your regulations on livery vehicles.

So when Lyft graced St. Louis with its presence a few months ago, as part of an ongoing national rollout that by then had reached 34 cities and regions, there was, of course, no need to seek the official blessing of the Metropolitan Taxicab Commission—or anyone else, for that matter. In fact, the Lyft “community” was so independent of any need for regulation, it didn’t seem to feel obligated to trifle with cease-and-desist orders from the city’s provincial court system.

Lyft apparently isn’t a governable entity, at least not from Lyft’s perspective. Sure, there would be resistance from those who failed to grasp the new realities of the sharing economy—something that happened everywhere else where Lyft, Uber, and others were rolling out—but the good karma of Lyft drivers would glide their cars over these bumps in the local roads.

“Your friend with a car.” That’s how Lyft markets itself—or how it channels its Zen, if you prefer.

I have a slightly different take on this. From what I can discern, a description of the service provided by Lyft should read something like this:

“Your friend with a car, who is actually a stranger you’ve never met, providing you with transportation from point A to point B in exchange for a monetary payment that is calculated upon the basis of time, distance, and fuel cost, 20 percent of which is received by a large corporate entity based thousands of miles away.”

Lyft tries to advance the counterargument that there are no fares involved here, only “donations.” This fig leaf of a defense is easily obliterated by the small detail—virtually incontestable—that were a passenger to choose to make no “donation,” or to make one far below the one “suggested” on the basis of time and distance, that passenger would receive the most negative ratings possible from his or her driver. And he or she would be ejected from the Lyft “community” faster than you can say “But I’m a hipster!”

If you visit Lyft’s website, you’ll find that drivers have been attracted to the “community” by the opportunity to make $20 per hour. The site even provides a calculator for the math-impaired, in which one can enter the number of hours they’d like to work to learn how much $20 per hour would bring them. If these drivers were just friends looking to make new friends who may or may not choose to make monetary “donations,” then why the pitch about how much one can earn?

Pardon me while I untangle myself from the cord on my wall phone, but I believe this is what we low-tech dinosaurs traditionally have called a taxicab service. It might be a taxicab service employing part-time soccer moms who’d sooner pour hot lattes on their children than answer to “Hey, cabbie,” but it’s a taxicab service.

I think it’s a terrific idea for a taxicab service, by the way. The use of smartphone technology with apps that allow you to arrange transportation without enduring a rude dispatcher is wonderful. So is the technology’s ability to eliminate the need for cash or a credit card by using stored information. (And this may be why a growing number of conventional taxicab services have begun to implement smartphone apps, albeit belatedly, meaning these features aren’t unique to Lyft, Uber, and the like.)

The notion of someone besides a traditional taxi driver transporting passengers to their destinations is not objectionable (other than to some of those cabdrivers). Most of them are considered independent contractors as well, so this is just a new pool of competitors in a dismal industry that could use some good competition in St. Louis.

As for riding in a regular passenger car—perhaps even someone’s late-model luxury car, rather than a less-enticing, not-so-late-model taxi—that too may be a fine idea. Although I’m not quite buying into the warmth and fuzziness of it all.

Lyft suggests you meet your new friend and “hop into the front seat. Your driver will welcome you with a friendly fist bump.”

So why might one wish to do that? Here’s what the Lyft website says: “From the moment you hop in the car, you’ll see that Lyft is more than a ride. We sit up front. We believe in making someone’s day a little better. We’re a community. When we set out to create Lyft, it wasn’t about making another app. We wanted to create a new way to live in your city. Lyft is the idea that transportation can bring people together. Before Lyft, we were just here. Now, we’re here for each other.”

At last, a land-based use for air-sickness bags.

As long as we’re here for each other, this might be the time to contemplate why most cities regulate vehicle livery service. There are fundamental risks involved when a person gets into a taxi, risks that aren’t mitigated by cheesy marketing gibberish and aren’t covered by the principle “Let the buyer beware.”

Whether you’re a business visitor, a tourist hopping in a cab at the airport, or a local getting a lift to a familiar area—or any of countless other scenarios—you need some assurance that your driver, the vehicle, and the costs are subject to some sort of official oversight and regulation. It’s an important role for state and local government.

It need not be an onerous role. Basically, a taxicab commission or other local office needs to address four basic areas:

• Background checks for drivers, including checks of criminal and driving records, and in the case of Missouri, the assurance that a valid chauffeur’s and/or commercial driver’s license is in force.

• Inspection of vehicles for compliance with states and local livery laws.

• Proof of valid commercial auto insurance and liability limits consistent with state laws.

• Establishment and enforcement of rules regarding the use and amounts charged by taxi meters.

Those basic functions of government are all essential for public safety and the protection of taxicab-service consumers. It’s arguable that the fourth area—regulating meters—is mitigated by the use of smartphone technology that predetermines fare amounts, and so would not apply to services like Lyft.

But none of the other three functions should be a deal-breaker for Lyft, Uber, or any similar service. If these companies would accept the obvious reality that they’re simply providing an innovative form of taxicab service, then it shouldn’t be fatal to their business plans for their drivers to get the same government background checks, licensing, and insurance as any other cabdriver.

What’s really absurd, though, is Lyft’s argument that it should verify drivers’ qualifications and backgrounds itself. The company has suggested that it actually has stricter background requirements than many local authorities.

Now there’s an interesting concept: Let’s trust industry to regulate itself. Imagine how much the taxpayers could save on, say, health-department costs if the government simply allowed restaurants to inspect their own kitchens—especially if they promise to be tougher on themselves than the inspectors would.

When you sign up to become a Lyft driver, you are required to meet with a “mentor” who inspects your car for cleanliness and compliance with the program, and you go on a “practice ride.” Then, if that mentor approves the driver, a background check is run regarding criminal and driving history.

Instead of all that, why not just have Lyft drivers comply with the rules that are already on the books for taxicab drivers regarding background checks, inspections, licensing, and insurance? This is a public-safety function—not the job of the companies being inspected—and the commission has processes in place to carry it out.

This isn’t complicated: Lyft and potentially others like it need to admit what they are, which is an exciting new type of livery service. And they need to play by the rules.

If they would do that, it is an understatement to say that St. Louis would and should embrace the new ventures with open arms. There is a virtual consensus locally that the taxicab industry is sorely in need of an overhaul. If ordinances and laws need to be updated to help make that happen, so be it.

Every effort should be made to accommodate the realities of the new technology, and no effort should be made to protect the economic interests of the existing taxicab industry as a cartel.

But fist-bumping your new friend in the front seat is purely optional. Following laws designed to protect the public is not.

SLM co-owner Ray Hartmann is a panelist on KETC Channel 9’s Donnybrook, which airs Thursdays at 7 p.m.

Commentary by Ray Hartmann