Are Uber Drivers Bringing Bad Driving Habits?

Or, is it the Gig Economy?

Friends,

I’ve documented this before, but in 2022 Canada admitted over 1.2 million temporary residents — partly due to the backlog of pandemic-era applications, but also, perhaps, to set a new standard. I expect this number will hover near a million for years to come.

And with such an influx, it’s not just our labour market that is being reshaped — our culture as a nation will inevitably shift as well. One place where I’ve noticed this change most directly is on the road.

I’m feeling like our rideshare drivers are just way more aggressive — rolling through red lights, pushing at stop signs, weaving to shave off a few seconds. Driving in Canada’s largest cities has been tense, but it’s not nearly as chaotic as more densely populated parts of the world. Which brings me to a question many Canadians quietly wrestle with: are these behaviours carried over from driving cultures abroad, or are they the product of the stress and instability of gig work?

The Rest of the World

Across much of South Asia, Africa, and the Middle East, the everyday road environment is simply harsher: mixed traffic, looser enforcement, and dense urban congestion. The World Health Organization estimates fatality rates at ~19 per 100,000 in Africa, the highest of any WHO region, and ~16 per 100,000 in South-East Asia (World Health Organization 11). In India alone, 168,491 people died in traffic crashes in 2022, with two-wheeler riders making up 44.5% of fatalities (Press Trust of India). In Saudi Arabia, aggressive driving has long been a concern; though the country cut its rate from 28.8 to 18.5 per 100,000 between 2016 and 2021, it still far outpaces the UAE, which sits closer to 5.5 per 100,000 (Saudi Ministry of Health). For many newcomers, driving assertively wasn’t a bad habit — it was survival.

Canada is totally different. In 2023, Canada’s road fatality rate was 4.9 per 100,000, one of the lowest globally, with fatalities down 28% over the last two decades and serious injuries down 41% (Transport Canada). Our roads are objectively safer: stronger impaired-driving laws, better vehicle standards, and more intentional road design. And yet, Canadians often feel the opposite. They notice hurried left turns, rolling stops, and tense lane changes.

Gig Economy Stress?

Because here’s the other layer: the stress baked into gig work itself. Scholars describe the gig economy as “characterized by uncertainty, unpredictability, and instability of both schedules and income”. Drivers work long hours with no guarantee of steady pay, often juggling multiple apps. Their livelihoods hinge on passenger ratings and volatile demand. Researchers have compared this to other high-strain jobs, noting that irregular sleep, financial precarity, and lack of protections produce chronic stress levels that can harm health as much as performance. Unlike traditional employment, there’s no safety net: no paid sick days, no benefits, no assurance that tomorrow will look like today. Under those conditions, is it really surprising that a driver might roll through a stop sign just to shave thirty seconds off a trip?

Drivers of rideshare apps in Canada are bringing an entire story to their driving style. The driver may have learned to navigate roads in Delhi, Lagos, or Riyadh, places where assertive manoeuvres are the only way to survive traffic. Add to that the relentless stress of gig work here in Canada — the endless hours, the pressure of ratings, the unpredictable income — and the result is a style of driving that feels tense, even aggressive, to many of us. Which raises an uncomfortable but necessary question: should Canada begin to regulate gig workers in the same way we do truckers or bus drivers? After all, we already recognize that fatigue, overwork and time pressure on the road put everyone at risk. Why should a rideshare be any different?

Canada is changing before our eyes.

More temporary workers, more cultural diversity, more reliance on gig platforms to move us around our cities. None of this is inherently bad; in fact, it’s often a testament to our openness as a country. But if Canadians are increasingly uneasy about how it feels to share the road, then we have to ask: are we creating conditions that bring out the best in people, or the worst? Are we building a system that welcomes newcomers and provides fair work, or one that leaves both drivers and passengers caught in a cycle of stress and suspicion?