I’ve used Uber for a decade—256 trips across the world. Recently I’ve needed it less, except in South America, where it’s often scarcely pricier than a bus. Brazil, in particular, has been the most interesting case. It isn’t the cheapest country for me as a visitor, but Uber makes city travel surprisingly affordable relative to public transport. São Paulo has deliberate logistical challenges: the safest neighbourhoods are largely unreachable by public transport, yet Uber’s convenience isn’t costly—on a Brazilian real basis. Bear in mind the real has hovered around 2.6 Reais to one Barbadian dollar.
Brazil is Uber’s largest market. Those self-imposed inefficiencies mean visitors with stronger currencies benefit. Two years ago I travelled from Avenida Paulista to Guarulhos before dawn to head home to Barbados. I’d done it many times but had never checked the distance: roughly 30 kilometres to one of the world’s busiest airports, for about BDS$50. A comparable taxi trip in Barbados—per government tariffs prior to late-2024 negotiations—cost about BDS$160 for a similar distance.
Brazil’s macroeconomic context is unlike Barbados’. As a major net producer, Brazil’s wage levels are lower than ours. I’m not arguing our taxi fares should be as cheap. But if Uber fares are so low—often lower than taxis—how does the model benefit drivers?
Brazil still struggles with unemployment in parts of society. While the headline rate has trended down—to 5.6 per cent as at August 2025—underemployment and informal work remain significant. For comparison, Barbados’ official rate was 7.5 per cent in 2024. Uber now operates above the informal market wherever it is present—a departure from its start-up phase, when growth often depended on drivers working in legal grey areas. The brand no longer needs that.
Many disadvantaged Brazilians can now earn legal income by driving with Uber. Despite low fares in absolute terms, drivers typically keep about 70 per cent of every dollar riders pay, fluctuating with surge periods when prices rise and Uber’s cut may also increase. The evidence on the ground suggests affordability and convenience have rewarded both private drivers and licensed taxis using the platform: usage continues to grow and prices haven’t escalated dramatically—a recipe for medium-term success.
Those prices should be sustainable: Brazil produces oil and gas and manufactures cars at scale. The ride-for-hire market is less “black-market” than before; drivers accept that visibility brings revenue, and Uber provides visibility. The state can, if it wishes, collect more tax from a transparent platform—for all its flaws, Brazil is ingenious at tax collection (look up the CPF system). Riders and drivers also benefit from safety features: mutual ratings and insurance.
The United States tells a different story. Prices keep climbing as drivers face inflationary costs that erode the appeal of the model. Uber, in general, lets drivers keep all tips and up to 75 per cent of the fare, but the cost of doing business surged during and after the pandemic: fuel and property costs outpaced wage growth. Often it’s now cheaper to rent a car via short-term services like Turo (or even Uber’s own rental offering) if you plan multiple daily stops. Still, for point-to-point convenience, Uber remains hard to beat—much as in Brazil.
Uber’s potential entry into Barbados can be read two ways. First, the innovation is overdue. Several services have tried to fix our ride-sharing market. PickUp Barbados is the latest; a decade ago Jarvey tried and failed, its founder stymied by rightly strong protectionist rules that made scaling difficult. Private-side competition would have broadened access. Taxis here are costly for many reasons, chiefly tight regulation and a high cost of living. The downside has been a tilt toward tourism despite long off-season slowdowns, and the inefficiency of “hailing”: unless you have a driver’s number, a relationship, or a hotel concierge, you’re stuck. Uber-style platforms could also improve government oversight and tax compliance, as PickUp Barbados may already do.
Second, regulation is ironclad and taxi associations guard it. The island’s 4,000-plus taxis indicate how many livelihoods are at stake—many of them voters. It’s no surprise, then, that recent talks between associations and Uber have reportedly broken down.
Uber has signalled its intent to comply with local rules which, paradoxically, may blunt its value proposition. Rumour has it that PickUp Barbados’ success helped prompt Uber’s interest. But Barbados remains a small, volatile market with protective regulation. Economically, conditions are close to a monopoly; for Uber to succeed, either ride volumes must grow or regulation must ease—ideally both.
A typical taxi driver today retains 100 per cent of fare revenue and covers operating and statutory costs. A PickUp Barbados driver faces the same costs but pays a platform commission (I don’t know the rate). Uber’s commission is typically around 25 per cent. Such fees only make sense if lower costs or better matching drives higher volumes. I’m told PickUp Barbados has even partnered with a global airline to funnel work to drivers; Uber could pursue similar partnerships.
Mathematically, a driver using Uber may need to do up to three times as much work as before to stand still on net income. That isn’t inherently bad if demand expands, but it will be resisted. Such volume growth is plausible only if government is persuaded that some deregulation is worth the trade-offs.