Just after midnight, the app lit up again.
Another order. Another address. Another few dollars added to a running total that never quite felt like enough.
For Mohammad Anwar, a 66-year-old immigrant working as a delivery driver in Washington, D.C., it was supposed to be routine. A quick pickup. A short drive. A final job before heading home.
Instead, it became one of the most disturbing crimes in the recent history of the gig economy. During what should have been a standard delivery, he was carjacked by two teenagers. The vehicle flipped. He died on the street.
His death made national headlines.
Most do not.
An Industry Without a Body Count
Across the United States, millions of drivers log on daily to platforms like Uber, DoorDash, and Lyft—forming the backbone of a system that promises convenience, speed, and flexibility.
But beneath that promise lies a fundamental absence: no centralized system exists to track how often these workers are victims of violent crime.
There is no federal database. No standardized reporting requirement. No consistent corporate disclosure.
When gig workers are attacked or killed, the incidents are typically recorded as isolated crimes—robberies, assaults, homicides—detached from the labor conditions that may have contributed to them.
The result is a category of violence that is both pervasive and largely invisible.
Fragments of a Pattern
When Subhakar Khadka picked up a group of teenagers in San Francisco in 2021, he expected a routine ride. Instead, the passengers coughed on him, ripped off his mask, and mocked him as he drove.
The video spread quickly online, sparking outrage and briefly focusing attention on the vulnerability of gig drivers.
But viral moments are exceptions.
Across cities like Detroit, Chicago, and Philadelphia, local news outlets regularly report on delivery drivers shot during robberies or lured into dangerous situations. These stories rarely extend beyond a few paragraphs. They are seldom connected.
Yet taken together, they suggest something more than coincidence.
They suggest a pattern.
Drivers working alone. Late at night. Entering unfamiliar neighborhoods. Responding to requests with limited information about who they are meeting—or what they might encounter.
The Algorithm and the Risk
Gig platforms are often framed as tools of independence: workers choose when and where to log on, selecting jobs that fit their schedules.
But the reality is more constrained.
The systems that distribute work are governed by algorithms designed to maximize efficiency. Drivers are encouraged—sometimes indirectly penalized—to accept a high volume of requests. Reject too many, and future opportunities may diminish.
In practice, this means drivers frequently accept jobs with incomplete information:
Deliveries to unfamiliar locations
Late-night pickups
Interactions with unknown customers
Platforms like Uber and DoorDash optimize for speed and availability. The risks associated with that optimization are absorbed by the worker.
The technology does not create violence. But it can shape exposure to it.
A Workforce Without Protections
At the center of the gig economy is a legal distinction: drivers are classified as independent contractors.
For companies like Lyft and Instacart, this classification limits obligations. For workers, it limits protections.
Unlike traditional employees, gig drivers typically lack:
Guaranteed workplace safety standards
Comprehensive workers’ compensation
Employer-provided health benefits
Formal training for high-risk scenarios
Companies often point to safety features—GPS tracking, in-app emergency buttons, identity verification systems. While these tools may offer some support, they do not address the broader structural issue: drivers are routinely placed in unpredictable environments without consistent safeguards.
When violence occurs, responsibility is difficult to assign.
Grief Without Recognition
For families, the consequences are immediate and personal.
After the death of Mohammad Anwar, relatives described a man who worked long hours, not out of obligation but out of commitment—to his family, to staying active, to contributing.
In the aftermath, they faced not only grief but logistics: funeral costs, legal proceedings, media attention that quickly faded.
In many similar cases, families turn to crowdfunding. They advocate for recognition, for accountability, for change.
Yet the deaths of gig workers are rarely framed as workplace fatalities. They are categorized simply as crimes.
The labor disappears from the narrative.
The Data Gap
In most industries, workplace risk is measured and regulated through data. Injury rates are tracked. Fatalities are documented. Patterns are analyzed.
The gig economy operates differently.
Without consistent data:
Policymakers lack a clear understanding of the risks
Researchers cannot quantify the scale of the problem
Journalists rely on fragmented reporting
Companies face limited external pressure
Some platforms publish safety reports, but these are often selective, emphasizing certain categories while leaving others less defined.
The absence of data is not merely a gap—it shapes the entire conversation.
What cannot be measured is difficult to regulate.
Who Is Most Exposed
The risks of gig work fall unevenly.
Many drivers are immigrants, people of color, or individuals navigating economic instability. For some, gig work provides supplemental income. For others, it is a primary means of survival.
This reality influences decision-making.
Workers who cannot afford to reject orders are more likely to accept risky assignments. Those working late-night hours—often the most profitable—face increased exposure to violence.
The system does not explicitly assign risk along these lines. But it depends on a workforce for whom refusal is often not an option.
Convenience and Its Costs
From the perspective of the customer, the gig economy functions seamlessly.
Meals arrive quickly. Rides are readily available. Groceries appear at the door.
The labor behind these transactions is largely invisible.
So too are the risks.
Each interaction is brief, transactional, and easily forgotten. But across millions of transactions, a pattern emerges—one in which convenience is maintained, in part, by distributing risk to those performing the work.
Toward Accountability
Efforts to address these issues are beginning to take shape.
Advocates have called for:
Mandatory reporting of violent incidents involving gig workers
Stronger labor protections and potential reclassification
Enhanced safety measures with real-time support
Greater transparency from companies
Alternative models, including worker-owned cooperatives, have also emerged, emphasizing safety and shared accountability.
Whether these efforts will scale remains uncertain.
The app continues to ping.
Across the country, drivers accept requests, navigate unfamiliar routes, and complete transactions that last only minutes.
Each notification carries the promise of income.
It also carries a degree of risk—one that remains largely untracked, unevenly distributed, and insufficiently addressed.
The gig economy has redefined work for millions. It has expanded access, increased flexibility, and reshaped how services are delivered.
But it has also created a category of labor that exists between visibility and recognition.
When something goes wrong, the consequences are immediate.
When nothing goes wrong, the system continues—quietly, efficiently, and largely unquestioned.
And in that silence, the stories that do not make headlines continue to accumulate.