For a 20-year-old sent home from college and stuck in her hometown with nothing to do, driving around with a friend and making some cash was a welcome distraction. For a man who had lost his job during the pandemic and was desperately looking for work, risking his health and safety was worth it. Around the country, families stayed home in fear of the invisible disease. How would they get their basic necessities?
Little-noticed among all of the other changes in the past year, a seemingly simple app called "Instacart" rose in popularity. It's rise came in an era of scrubbing bags of chips with Lysol wipes. Groceries stores became a maze of arrows directing the flow of traffic and stickers lined the linoleum, indicating where exactly to stand while checking out. A tedious venture turned into a terrifying race to grab as many things as possible, as quickly as possible.
In 2012, well before the pandemic, Instacart was founded in San Francisco after entrepreneur Apoorva Mehta decided he wanted to ease the inconvenience of grocery shopping.
The app connected nearby customers to "shoppers" who would shop in your place and deliver it right to the door. This approach successfully boosted the online presence of brick and mortar grocery stores through partnerships and percentage cuts. The rise of the gig economy, combined with the wave of disruption in 2020, created an opportunity for flexible and adaptable schedules for those looking to continue working.
As of March of 2020, grocery shopping changed from being a nuisance to being a safety concern. In the same month, the U.S. lost 701,000 jobs in March, according to the Labor Department's unemployment report, although the real losses were said to be at least 10 million.
Those looking for work who were willing to endure the risks quickly jumped to fill the need for shoppers - and within a week a company with 2,000 full-time employees had 100,000 shoppers picking orders on the platform, Instacart President Nilam Ganenthiran told industry news site Progressive Grocer.
Savanna Nolau, 20, was attending Suffolk University in Boston when COVID-19 sent her home to the Berkshires. She heard about driving for Instacart from one of her friends who said it was a good way to make cash. "At first I didn't tell my mom what I was doing because she would be afraid for my safety," Nolau said.
"But I did it five times a week, four hours a day. I made good, quick money. People tipped like crazy because I was risking myself to be there instead of them."
She wasn't the only one willing to take a risk. Eduardo Silva, a 31-year-old immigrant from Brazil living in New York, lost his job in 2020 and needed a quick replacement. He found it in Instacart. "It was super busy, since people didn't go to the markets to do groceries. I always had requests available for shopping."
It wasn't always an easy task. Often, people complained about the quality of the food, the length of delivery and multiple other things. This led to low tips and sometimes, worse. "This app is for the customer, not the worker," said Silva.
"There is no service help for us. We were completely on our own. People sometimes forget that there is an actual human behind the screen," Nolau commented after her account got deactivated when a customer falsely claimed she had never delivered their food. She was frustrated that she was putting herself at risk of infection to provide a service for those who couldn't, or wouldn't, leave their house.
They weren't the only ones that felt like this. In March, shoppers publicly protested the lack of safety precautions for the risk of exposure. Many demanded protective gear and hazard pay. In April, Instacart responded by giving out safety kits and expanded paid sick leave for exposed workers in June.
Despite the pandemic slowing somewhat, shoppers continue to flood to the platform and orders continue to stream in. The shoppers who deliver for Instacart are essential to the company, and risk their health and safety to deliver goods to those who stay home.
Yet, for some, it is a risk worth taking. "Instacart impacted me in a good way," Silva mentioned. "I have more flexibility. I can spend more time with my wife. I can choose whenever I wanna work."
