Guest Post: A Gig Site's Lifespan: A Tragedy, In Four Acts

 

<http://www.impawards.com/2021/gig_is_up.html> 

(One of the best documentaries
on the phenomenon -- a must-view!

See Link Below)

Reckoner's Note: It's been some time since we've chronicled the Piecework Industrial Complex, AKA "the gig economy," and its doings. No longer the new kid on the block, many changes have overtaken the Gig Economy, though not for the better (surprise, surprise). 

The "content farm" approach of yore has given way to more practical impulses. Who wants to read somebody's thinly plagiarized content, when the average bear just wants to know, "Who could help me craft my presentation for that big meeting next week?" Or, "Who can I get to clean my floor tonight?" Or, "Where can I hire a tutor to bump up my kid's test scores?"

The emphasis is increasingly on a service-oriented economy -- from delivery (DoorDash, GrubHub, Postmates, Shipt), to transport (Lyft, Uber), and intellectual labor for hire (Upwork), to name some of the "usual suspects." However, many of the same dubious practices that garnered so much bad press during the 2010s -- inconsistent pay/work, lack of autonomy, and ever-shifting work rules -- have remained in place.

We wondered how anyone could still piece together a living this way, so we put out some feelers, and got a response. For simplicity's sake, and to avoid retaliation from his paymasters, we're calling him The Midnight Marauder, who's a decade-plus gig work veteran. "One thing, though, hasn't changed in this line of work," he tells us. "And that is -- the lifespan of a gig site, which follows the same general story arc." His story follows below, as he's written it.

<"So Many Balls In The Air..."/The Reckoner>

<i.> Act One: The Initial Buzz

Like anybody else out there, you worry how to juggle all the balls whizzing in the air. Groceries or meds? Rent or utilities? The pressure never lets up, needless to say. It's the reason why you aren't sleeping so comfortably these days. 

Then, from out of the blue, a solution drops: MakeWork.com, a third party editing site. Maybe you found it during some late night online search, or somebody recommended it as an option -- "I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy," as Saul Goodman says -- or you might even know somebody who works for one of these sites. Whatever.

The site seems straightforward enough. People contact you for copyediting and proofing jobs. Most of the deadlines are four to six hours. Pressed for time? Then try the quick 'n' dirty jobs that people upload, which are due in 60 minutes or less. The more involved the job, the more you make, for which you're paid every Monday. No fuss, no muss, no need to pound the pavement, as the copy suggests: "FLEXIBLE SCHEDULING! MAKE MONEY THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY: QUICKLY! WORK HOW YOU WANT, WHEN YOU WANT!"

So you figure, "What the hell," and take a simple copyediting test -- nobody wants "Brian" mangled into "Brain," right? -- fill out some basic info (don't forget the PayPal address), and the usual folderol (desired salary, work hours, job preferences). You hold your breath, and hit Send.

Back comes the answer, a day or so later: you're in! No resume, no job interview, no endless bargaining over rates. You're pinching yourself at how easy it seems. MakeWork.com delivers it all to your doorstep, for whatever princely flat rate the job pays. Seems like easy enough work, you tell yourself. What's not to like? Actually, plenty, as you'll soon find out. But for now, the promise of 200 to 300 extra bucks a week is enough to keep you going.

<"The Humming...Of The Digital Sweatshop"/The Reckoner>

<ii.> Act II: The Upward Rocket

You settle quickly into the routine. Come home, decompress over dinner, then hit the computer. You feel a sense of pride when that first 100 bucks slides through your inbox. You start thinking, what would happen if I spent three or so hours a night on this stuff? Within a month or so, you bump that 100 to 200, then 300 bucks. Now and then, you even scrape the heights near $400.

It's not a free-for-all, though. As a newly-minted MakeWorker, you're responsible for keeping track of its ever-changing style guide, and management's continual stream of edicts, via weekly emails and blog postings that hit your inbox. What's more, if the customer doesn't like your work, they can ask a CE (Copyeditor) to review it.

You get one shot at fixing up that file, and if the CE doesn't agree, your work's rejected.  Poof! That $25, $35, or $50 is no longer yours, and the job gets assigned to someone else. The first time it happens, you're livid, and think about walking away -- until you remember that overdue medical bill. The second and third times, you grit your teeth, and engage in a spirited back-and-forth with your CE. Nothing comes of it. 

Though you can -- and do -- appeal the CE's decision, the lack of results convinces you not to bother again, unless the issue is mega-major. Actually, it already is now, because it's eating up time spent on working. After some thought, though, you shrug it off as the cost of doing business. Invoking the nuclear option of closing your account seems less appealing, since your bills never stop coming.

On top of all this, MakeWork imposes a Maker Minimum requirement. Now, you must do X number of jobs per month, which is calculated into a rolling average. Slip below that number, and you risk having your account closed. You wince at the thought, but for now, it doesn't seem like a big deal.

For one thing, you're scoring some other side gigs, to which you can always transition -- theoretically, anyhow -- if MakeWork doesn't pan out. The image of flying solo as a fulltime freelancer is pretty damn alluring, so you don't want to interrupt the fantasy. And besides, they aren't offering any overtime at the office.

<"Be Reasonable...Demand The Impossible/
Take I": The Reckoner>

<iii.> Act III: The Sugar High

For awhile, you don't spot any trouble looming in Paradise. With over 1,000 jobs on the board at any given time, it honestly feels like a gold rush out there. But soon, another fly pops into the proverbial ointment: MakeWork HQ imposes a new requirement, that allows two more revisions, before your work's rejected for good.

The good news? You get a shot at redemption, and keeping that 25-50 bucks. The bad news? All that extra work jeopardizes your weekly goal of 200 to 300 bucks, and further divides your energy. On one hand, you're still making the same money, but in a real sense, you're not -- because it's taking longer to get there.

A mini-mutiny erupts when MakeWork introduces a lower-paying job tier of QuickWork Tasks that pay $10-15 apiece. Management bills them as "get 'em out the door" projects that can rack up quick money, if you can do plenty of them. However, they're still subject to the same mindless revision requirements as MakeWork jobs, which could eat away at your overall returns.

The announcement curdles your stomach, and for the first time, you begin to question the whole business. However, a quick scan of similar-sounding websites -- BusyBee, CopyEditBistro, Media Cool, Razzer, and so on -- jolts your brain into another unpleasant reality.

Gig work sites act like unions in reverse. Whereas unions generally raise the bar for everyone's wages, gig sites operate as the perverse flipside, by dragging everyone's pay straight to the bottom. Seeing MakeWork's competitors ape their basic business model for barrel scraping wages is proof enough for you.

What's more, the number of jobs is starting to shrink, as MakeWork continues to onboard armies of newbies. To keep up with this potential new threat, you're now forced to park at your computer for several hours a night, gritting your teeth, and telling yourself: Who sleeps beside their cursors? Guess these people do. But you aren't about to quit, since your grocery bills never let up. And neither should you, right?

<"Be Reasonable...Demand The Impossible/

Take II": The Reckoner>

<iv.>  The Downward Spiral

Five or so years down the line, you're well and truly embedded on the site, and its routines. To what effect, though, you're not sure. More and more, you find yourself questioning the setup, as the number of QuickWork jobs continues to grow, while the number of MakeWork jobs continues to taper off. 

As if that worry isn't enough to rattle your cage, MakeWork rolls out another concerning change. Customers can now vote Thumbs Up or Down on your work, whatever the case may be. Too many Thumbs Down ratings in too short a time, and you risk getting busted down to the QuickWork tier. 

Judging by the forum chatter, your stay in MakeWork Purgatory won't be a short one, since it takes 10 Thumbs Up ratings to overcome the one or two Thumbs Down grades that weigh down your standing like a boat anchor. So far, you're dodging that fate, but you don't whip out the confetti, as the amount of QuickWork jobs grows to double, then, triple the MakeWork ones. 

The overall proportion of jobs is also starting to drop. Those $300 weekly totals now seem like a lifetime ago, as it practically takes all seven days to make 200 bucks. What took two or three hours a night now gobbles twice as much time forcing you to hover constantly near your computer. So much for, "WORK WHEN YOU WANT, HOWEVER LONG YOU WANT," right?

On weekends, there's hardly any work, leaving you back to surfing the couch, and binging on Tubi. Not having seen much of you lately, your partner welcomes this new development, even as your wallet whispers insistently in your ear: "You're running out of options, again!" But what else can you do? You signed a non-disclosure agreement, as MakeWork policy dictates, so complaining beyond the forums is out of the question.

And you can't contact customers directly to line up other work, which also runs afoul of MakeWork policy. You're atomized and isolated behind their shiny virtual walled garden, where they wanted you all along. Somehow, that gauzy photo currently gracing the home page -- you know, the woman happily jogging behind her dog -- doesn't make you feel better. Every time you see it, you're ready to upchuck.

Running alongside Rover is the last thing on your mind, with fingers poised on your mouse, hoping to beat someone else to the MakeWork jobs that still roll in. But it's getting harder to do that dance, which eats up more time than ever. Ah, well, what the hell, who needs more downtime, anyway? Couch surfing costs money, especially when you're not making any, right?

<"If I Had A Dollar... (X2)"/The Reckoner>

<Coda> The Morning After

Finally, you realize the party's over. No single magic moment tells you; you're just tired of staring at a blank screen till your eyes pop out. You and your partner return to reselling, to middling success. There's also the new hip record store, where you can sell books, CDs, and other memorabilia from your own collection for 100-150 bucks a pop, which certainly beats MakeWork's rates.

And you still have your job, not to mention all those goodies that MakeWork figured you wouldn't miss -- like health insurance, paid time off days, sick leave, and vacation. MakeWork continues to sputter along, a mere shell of its shinier self. The same site that promised the moon and stars is now lucky to offer 10-20 jobs at a time.

Perversely, you feel way better, since you realize that you're not missing anything. Amazingly, though, a fair number of Makers haven't gotten the memo -- as the forums buzz with various conspiracy theories, rumors, and speculation, to explain where all the jobs -- and the clients -- have gone.

If nothing else, you've learned a good lesson about the life and death of a gig site. From initial buzz, to gold rush era, slippery slope downward, and point of no return, the story arc is always the same. Still, somewhere in America, some vulture capitalist or other is pitching the next MakeWork.com, that some investor is bound to green light.

Why? Because these types of sites operate on dreams, long before they start running strictly on fumes. That dream operates like a siren's song to all those desperate people out there, stuck in the same dead end loop that you're facing -- which bill will you pay this week, and which one can wait till next week?

As long as enough people believe, the site will sputter along, even after those who dreamed it up have cashed out long ago, surfing a wave of bonuses and stock options. How do those who follow them get paid? That's the next sucker's problem, or -- excuse me -- opportunity, or dream.

At least you've gotten away clean (relatively speaking). However, your next door neighbor or friend may not wind up so lucky. But if you happen to encounter them, it might not hurt to run this little bit of Elvis Costello folk wisdom by them: "Oh, no, I've seen the movie/Even though it does not move me." 

Chances are, they'll feel like at the midway, who didn't pick the shell under the right pea. Still, the hardbitten carny holds all the cards, so where else can you go? It's not a good feeling. Now I know, all too well, the reasoning behind the saying, "Experience is the hardest teacher", as some lessons are harder to learn, it seems, than others.--The Midnight Marauder

Links To Go (Hurry, Hurry, Hurry,
Before Your Piecework Dries Up...)
Los Angeles Times: The Gig Economy
Sucked In Gen Z & Millennials Like Me:
https://www.latimes.com/opinion/story/2024-01-14/economy-millennials-gen-z-freelance-gigs

Rice University Media Relations:
Hidden Costs Of Gig Work:
https://news.rice.edu/news/2025/hidden-costs-gig-work-job-insecurity-and-customer-ratings-impact-worker-well-being

The Gig Is Up (Full Movie):
https://tubitv.com/movies/654449/the-gig-is-up

TIME: "It's A Race To The Bottom...":
https://time.com/5836868/gig-economy-coronavirus/

 
"When gig work is the only pie 

that’s available

 to millions of people, 

sharing it means 

that some don’t even get crumbs."