Confessions of a S’pore Grab driver: How the app is changing as it enters its profitability era

SINGAPORE – When Ms Carmen Ortega started driving for a ride-hailing app in 2015, it was a different world. Uber was the dominant force on the local scene and Grab was just starting to make inroads. Both entered the market just two years earlier.

Ms Ortega, now 40, recalls signing up to drive for Uber because of a $500 referral bonus, eager for a part-time gig lucrative enough to cover her vehicle rental. What began as a side hustle soon became a reason to leave her job in sales.

Now, she continues to drive part-time for Grab because it affords her freedom to do other things – in her case, caring for two elderly parents and building an online business.

These days, being a part-time private-hire driver makes her the outlier. The gig is no longer profitable enough as a side hustle. Most do it as their primary job.

The number of “own account workers” – which the Government terms freelancers – who pursue private-hire car driving as a secondary profession has fallen to 4,700 in 2025, from a peak of 7,300 in 2022, according to Ministry of Manpower data.

Unlike Ms Ortega, most Grab drivers no longer manually accept rides. “Auto accept”, a system where drivers are automatically assigned trips, has become the norm after it was introduced in 2018.

Auto accept is a requirement for many of the platform’s incentives, with diamond- and sapphire-tier drivers earning bigger payouts if they fulfil a requisite number of trips.

For Ms Ortega, these requirements are a non-starter as they strip away the autonomy that drew her to the work.

“I don’t want to be controlled by the platform, in terms of where I have to drive and when I have to clock in,” she says. “My own goals and timings just don’t fit. It defeats the purpose of being self-employed.”

Associate professor of economics Walter Theseira of the Singapore University of Social Sciences describes these measures by Grab as the sector moving beyond its initial phase, where loss-making was the norm as platforms competed aggressively for market share.

As the industry enters its profitability phase, incentives are now focused on improving driver loyalty and consistency, he notes.

In 2025, Grab recorded its first full-year profit of US$268 million (S$342 million). After it entered the Singapore market in 2013 as a taxi-booking app, it had recorded losses of up to US$4 billion a year as it rapidly expanded across South-east Asia.

Now, with Deliveroo exiting the market, Grab looks set to cement its status as Singapore’s most popular food-delivery as well as ride-hailing super app.

For the eight drivers who spoke to ST, some on condition of anonymity, these shifts have meant big changes in their finances and lifestyle.

What Grab looks like under the hood

As it expanded from a ride-hailing app into food delivery, payments, loans and more, some of its most consequential changes have not been visible to consumers. 

Many are seen only by the country’s over 71,000 platform workers, of which about half – 36,000 – are private-hire car drivers.

In 2014, when Dave (not his real name), a 40-year-old tech worker turned driver, began private-hire driving, it felt like a windfall.

“Back then, Uber was easily around $50 an hour,” he recalls, declining to reveal his name out of concern for his livelihood. “It was really easy – hop in, drive a couple of hours and you’d be done for the day.”

Since Uber’s South-east Asia operations were acquired by Grab in 2018, he has driven with Grab. Twelve years on, he estimates he earns half of what he used to – $25 to $30 an hour on average.

Today, the dream of using multi-platform, part-time driving as an easy route to financial independence is fading.

The sprawling web of incentives for those driving for Grab – estimated to dominate over half the local ride-hailing market, trailed by Gojek and Tada – means that to maximise earnings, drivers need to clock long hours, increasingly with a single platform.

At Grab, a “monthly streak bonus” incentivises drivers to hit a certain number of rides for consecutive months.

Each driver’s earning history and rating place him or her in one of four tiers – from the lowest, emerald, to the highest, diamond – which determine one’s rewards from completing a streak. Only the top of each cohort can advance to the next rank each quarter, which breeds competition for the finite number of spots.

The rewards can be significant. A diamond driver who completes 300 rides for three consecutive months receives a $100 bonus and a 15 per cent rebate for Grab’s platform fees for those months, which can translate to savings of over $1,000 a month for prolific drivers. Completing over 700 rides bumps the rebate up to 21 per cent.

In February, Dave, who was on the road 12 hours a day for four to six days a week, says his incentive bonus and rebate amounted to about $320.

The father of one and sapphire – second-highest tier – driver seeks to make $6,000 to $8,000 a month, which is what he used to draw in business development.

Jay, 47, another sapphire-tier Grab driver who declined to share his full name, says the incentive structure means he needs to complete about 80 trips in his Premium vehicle a week to meet targets.

“Sounds simple, sounds easy, but trust me, it’s not,” he says.

This translates to 12- to 14-hour work days, assuming he completes up to two trips an hour.

Doing the maths

For Dave and Jay, the mental arithmetic of chasing incentives has become a stressor. Each day involves a running tally of trips completed, cancellation rates and the clock.

Cancelling more than 10 per cent of rides a month makes them ineligible for incentives. At the same time, rides to far-flung locations make it difficult to stay on target.

“If I’m at Bedok and the next trip is to Jurong, there’s no way I can make my incentive goal,” says Dave. “But if I cancel this rider, I go above the cancellation threshold.

“These are the kinds of things we worry about: Can we hit our incentives target for the day? If there’s a bonus, wouldn’t you go for it?”

Says Jay: “It takes a toll on your body.” He notes that finding an opportune time and place to eat and use the bathroom is a challenge.

“Most of us suffer from lower back pain. We eat in our car and then we drive. The air-con blows directly on us, so we get a lot of chest issues.”

Dave’s best month of earnings was during the 2025 Formula One season, when he took home close to $11,000 by working 14-hour days, seven days a week.

Anomalous rates such as these are often shared online, but mask the realities that make it possible.

“How long can you continue such a lifestyle?” he says. “Long hours away from family, no time for yourself. It’s not a conducive way to work.”

Competition among platforms is one key factor shaping incentive structures, says Dr Wang Hai, an associate professor of information systems at Singapore Management University.

As it has become the norm for private-hire car drivers to have multiple apps running to access the best rates, platforms are focusing on rewarding loyalty.

Gojek has a monthly loyalty rewards programme with varying payouts based on the number of trips completed and driver tier, as well as daily bonus incentives based on distance driven. Tada announced in December that it is launching a $1 million pilot programme to fund cash payouts for drivers based on the number of trips completed, with rewards based on driver tier.

According to Grab’s spokesperson, its diamond-, sapphire- and ruby-tier drivers also get up to 60 days of medical leave in the event of injury on the job, and payouts of of $30 to $200 a day depending on their average daily earnings. It also subsidises up to $45 off general practitioner visits for this group twice a year. Drivers who complete 60 or more trips a week can also apply for university scholarships for their family members.

Little advance warning of changes

But the shape of incentives is constantly in flux, sometimes with scant warning.

Each week, drivers are faced with a changing array of time-based incentives to encourage driving during peak periods, such as the morning commute or festive seasons.

In June 2025, Grab announced it would be cutting commission rebates for all driver tiers. Drivers were given a week’s notice. The move sparked backlash from drivers and the National Private Hire Vehicles Association (NPHVA).

Five days later, Grab and the NPHVA announced that the platform would hold off rolling out these changes. The new incentive programme was paused to “allow more time to incorporate feedback”, said a Grab spokesperson.

For drivers, the incident underscored how incentives can be taken away. “They stayed the execution,” says Dave. “There’s trepidation over whether the hammer is going to come down again.”

While new industry regulations have been introduced in stages since 2017 – requiring ride-hailing platforms to abide by licensing requirements, make CPF contributions and compensate workers if they are injured on the job – much of the day-to-day operations of managing platform workers remains the company’s prerogative.

This is because the contractual relationship between Grab and its private-hire car drivers is unlike that of most corporate environments, even its closest industries, say academics like Dr Theseira.

He notes that the tendency for platforms to treat gig workers as “manipulable units of labour” is significantly higher than in traditional employment.

In most corporate environments, workers exist in a network of relationships. This means uncomfortable lunchtime conversations with workers about to be laid off or water-cooler chats about unpopular policies act as pushback against unwelcome changes from above.

Such an equivalent does not exist for Grab drivers, who mostly air their concerns online in Facebook groups and Instagram accounts.

“From the platform’s point of view, if workers don’t like the change, they will tell us by not showing up for that month, in which case it’ll change the next month,” says Dr Theseira.

That much of working life exists through a technical interface also means that today’s ride-hailing platform operators have more levers to manage supply and demand than taxi companies did, he adds.

As platforms now need to show shareholders they can achieve stronger profit margins, they are turning to variable incentives constantly being adjusted through opaque algorithms, says Dr Mathew Mathews, principal research fellow at the Institute of Policy Studies, who has led studies on private-hire drivers.

The result, he adds, is that platforms “have to engineer their systems to have much tighter control over drivers, but give them the illusion that they have autonomy and flexibility”.

Confessions of a Grab driver

When Ms Ortega began her Instagram account, Confessions of a Grab driver, in 2022, it was mostly to rant. Over time, friends and family advised her against taking such a negative tone, and her focus shifted to highlighting common misunderstandings in the sector.

Condominium residents, for instance, often do not realise that basement pickup zones have poor connectivity, creating stressful radio silence for drivers left waiting. There is also the assumption that drivers should help carry passengers’ luggage, which is difficult for those with back problems.

Other drivers have also shared about inappropriate behaviour, such as passengers clipping their nails in the car.

Ms Ortega’s time with ride-hailing has ebbed and flowed along with many life changes.

She wound down her driving in 2016 to set up a Thai iced tea business full time, before Covid-19 upended it in 2020. As her parents grew older and in need of assistance, she returned to driving around 40 hours a week, doing web design and social media management on the side.

To her, some of the biggest changes in the profession have been cultural. When she began driving, trips were full of conversation, with passengers often expressing curiosity about her youthfulness as a driver in her early 30s.

Part of the appeal was how it enabled her the flexibility to build her dream of selling Thai iced tea. Her first order came from a passenger, as did her first pop-up event and business collaboration.

“When ride hailing started and it was Uber, everyone was so nice. Everyone was so curious,” she recalls. Now, she says: “If you get through the trip without problems, you’re happy.”

The maturing of the industry has meant that chattiness has become a rarity, and rudeness more commonplace, which Ms Ortega attributes partly to how auto accept has changed the mood of drivers, often resentful over burnout and having to take trips they see as sub-optimal to meet targets.

“For me, sometimes they’re like: ‘Why are you so happy?’ Because I choose my trips versus someone who depends on Grab or Gojek to give them benefits,” she says, noting that she also drives for Grab’s competitors, such as Tada and Gojek.

The work involves long stretches of solitude, which Ms Ortega fills with audiobooks and podcasts. “It can be enjoyable, if it’s not for survival,” she adds.

Complicated relationship

Even though many drivers describe gig work as something that exists to bridge one phase of life to another – often following a layoff or difficulties with finding a job – the reality is more complicated.

Most drivers who spoke to ST say they did not want Grab to be their sole source of income, but added that the platform now plays a dominant role in their finances.

At an informal gathering of Grab drivers at a bar on March 10, they tell ST that many of them joined communities created by Grab, most visibly through its co-pilot outreach programme that connects rookie drivers.

Many are members of The Driver’s Clan (TDC), an over 4,000-strong group created by Grab and led by captains, selected by the company from its diamond-tier drivers.

For TDC member Steven Nadan, 49, driving for Grab was an opportunity for a second career after leaving the military in 2023. The former navy coxswain rents his vehicle through Grab, which comes with its own incentives, such as an $85 weekly reward for driving 50 hours.

In his view, the biggest benefit is that if an accident occurs – like the windscreen breaking – replacements are quick and paid from one’s future earnings.

“At the other companies, if your windscreen breaks, you have to pay $300 out of pocket to change it and get yourself back on the road,” he says.

Through TDC group chats, members share real-time updates about road conditions and passenger demand surges, which Mr Nadan describes as resembling a “command-and-control” set-up.

He describes his Grab captain Yuki Leow as “a big sister” who often dispenses advice to rookies on, say, the auto accept system or car maintenance issues.

“New drivers don’t know what’s going on,” says Ms Leow, 46, a mother of two who began driving in 2022. “At least now they’re not alone.”

Grab captains lead teams of about 25 people in cash reward challenges, such as who can complete the most shifts. Ms Leow’s team won one in February that came with a $3,750 prize.

One of the team’s top performers, Mr Oliveiro Marc, 35, a former hospitality worker and full-time driver since 2024, says the profession enables his “work hard, play hard” lifestyle.

He says his monthly earnings are easily double those of his previous job, and fund his passion – poker tournaments. He took third place at the Singapore Poker Championships in March.

He often works 12-hour days. During Chinese New Year in February, he earned over $800 in 13 hours by completing over 40 trips in a day.

“With my Grab earnings and poker winnings, I went to see the Northern Lights in Finland,” says the diamond-tier driver, adding that his goal is to play poker professionally. “These are the motivations that drive me.”

In his view, complaints about burnout mainly come from those transitioning from sectors where long hours are not common. In contrast, physical labour and irregular hours were the norm in the hospitality and delivery jobs he held. “When you transition from those to this, this is nothing,” he says.

Not all drivers are so engaged in Grab communities.

Jay, who has been driving for Grab on and off since 2016, began driving full time after losing his senior operations manager job in the security industry in 2024.

For the father of four, the transition from Grab as a side hustle to a full-time job has been tough, with long hours and incentive structures central to his financial anxieties.

Now working seven days a week, taking even half a day off ticks away at the back of his mind as potential lost income. Weekends are a no-go for family plans as they are peak earning periods.

“Just imagine if I want to take my family on a holiday, like a three-day vacation to Johor Bahru – I need to cover three days of rental first,” says Jay, who rents his vehicle.

“I will move once a better opportunity comes along. I think every driver will say that,” he adds.

Grab’s Partner Cash Advance, launched in 2023, has been a godsend for keeping him afloat. The system disburses loans to drivers with a one-time processing fee of up to 2 per cent a month, with the sum taken from a driver’s future earnings.

“It allows us to sustain ourselves,” says Jay. “And at the same time, it makes us commit to working for Grab even more.”

Centralising for automation

All these moves form part of a broader industry shift, say academics. “The biggest change I see in ride-hailing platforms across different countries is the move from a decentralised marketplace to centralised and optimised management,” says Dr Wang.

While the pioneers of the gig economy pitched themselves as connectors between clients and freelancers, these companies now take a more active role in directing freelancers’ work.

Most Grab drivers who spoke to ST say they no longer understand how fares are calculated.

The introduction in 2023 of a variable commission rate – which is calculated based on distance to the pickup location – as well as the normalisation of auto accept mean that in most cases, whether it is worth making a trip no longer factors in, say drivers.

The result is not quite the gig-economy promise of being your own boss, says Dave. “The reality is it’s a very top-down dynamic.”

Experts say such centralisation improves overall system efficiency, wait times and the likelihood that one can find a driver in a more remote location.

But in this process, drivers have much less control, observes Dr Mathews. “They cannot easily reject jobs that are too far, less profitable or poorly timed, especially if incentives are tied to acceptance rates.

“Essentially, the driver is managed throughout the course of the day by an algorithm,” he adds.

The similarities to automation are more than coincidental.

Dr Wang predicts that such centralisation is paving the way for a new kind of transport already beginning to displace human drivers in the United States and China: autonomous vehicles.

“All ride-hailing platforms are preparing for the autonomous vehicle market,” he says, noting that beyond the efficiency gains of centralised operations, preparing such a system for pricing and dispatching is necessary for rolling out autonomous vehicles.

In San Francisco, autonomous vehicle company Waymo has captured over a fifth of the ride-hailing market since launching in 2023, according to US media reports. As it stands, Grab is launching its first autonomous shuttle service in Punggol in April in partnership with WeRide, a Guangzhou-based autonomous vehicle company.

The rise of such automation down the road would likely render many gig workers obsolete, or see them pivoting towards new roles as controllers overseeing a fleet of autonomous vehicles and stepping in only when intervention is necessary, he notes.

Stuck behind the wheel?

In the meantime, platform work remains attractive to a large swathe of the labour force, who are eager to trade climbing the corporate ladder for freedom from supervision and freedom to grind for earnings, says Dr Theseira.

A 2025 survey on own account workers conducted by the Ministry of Manpower estimates that 59,000 or 92 per cent chose platform work as opposed to something they pursued because they could not find another alternative.

Many drivers, like Ms Ortega, say they need a flexible schedule because of caregiving needs. She needs to drive her parents to their many medical appointments.

Others, like Jay, are displaced from what Dr Theseira calls “a higher-status job” and might prefer driving to starting over on the corporate ladder.

“When you look at the concept of the career ladder, and what is facing many people as an alternative to the platform economy, it just doesn’t look very attractive,” he says.

He makes the comparison to bus driving, a job with similar entry-level earnings, but involving far more training and discipline. “As a bus driver, you have to follow a rigid schedule and listen to people tell you how to do your job all the time,” he says.

Even though a bus driver’s earnings often eventually outpace those of private-hire car drivers, the work conditions of bus driving make it unpalatable to many who turn to platform work.

The immediacy of earnings from the platform economy is also what contributes to the job’s “stickiness”, notes Dr Mathews. Those who grow attuned to platform work tend to view other options through the lens of lost short-term income, should they have continued driving.

In 2015, Dave left his job at a local tech firm to launch a machinery company. He is transitioning out of that venture as the company’s business direction has shifted to China, rendering his local expertise less relevant.

With the birth of a daughter in 2024, his financial pressures have intensified, even as his career is in limbo.

“If I had the opportunity, I would have made the switch to another industry long ago. The number of hours I’m grinding on this job, I wish I had been able to do something else that earns a comparable wage,” he says. “I feel stuck.”