Hong Kong’s taxi drivers, long disdained and discouraged, face the end of an era

The air is thick with cigarette smoke and Cantonese profanity as six taxi drivers idle past their red cabs in a quiet corner of Hong Kong’s sandy Prince Edward neighborhood.

It is the afternoon delivery, when day shift drivers hand over their taxis to those working the night shift. They hand over cash to a taxi agent, a motherly figure who collects vehicle rent, manages their schedules, and dispenses unsolicited advice about exercising more and quitting smoking. Drivers wave to her.

There may be no more difficult task in this city of more than seven million people than trying to change a taxi driver’s habits. Often grumpy and rushing for the next fare, Hong Kong’s taxi drivers have been doing things their way for decades, reflecting the frenetic, fast-paced culture that has long animated the city.

But taxi drivers are under pressure to keep up with the times. Its passengers are tired of being driven recklessly, being treated curtly and, in many cases, having to settle fares in cash – one of the strangest idiosyncrasies of life in Hong Kong. The practice is so ingrained that airport staff often have to alert tourists in taxi ranks that they need to carry bills.

Due to complaints and to stimulate tourism, the government tried to rein in taxi drivers. Officials campaigned over the summer urging drivers to be more polite. They imposed a points system through which bad behavior by drivers – such as overcharging or rejecting passengers – is tracked and can result in the loss of licenses.

In early December, the government proposed requiring all taxis to install systems that allow them to accept credit cards and digital payments by the end of 2025, and to add surveillance cameras by the end of 2026.

Predictably, many taxi drivers opposed the idea of ​​close supervision.

“Do you want to be watched all the time?” said Lau Ping Kuan, a 75-year-old taxi driver with thinning white locks, who only accepts cash. “The government issues a lot of orders.”

Hold on to your seats

The new controls, if implemented, would signal the end of an era for an industry that has long been an anomaly in Hong Kong. World-class transportation system. Every day, millions of people travel safely on sleek subways and reliably running air-conditioned double-decker buses.

In comparison, taking a taxi can be an adventure. Step into one of Hong Kong’s premium four-door Toyota Crown Comfort taxis, and you’ll likely be greeted (what’s the opposite of greeting?) by a man in his 60s or older with an array of mobile phones mounted on his dashboard. – which is sometimes used for GPS navigation and other times to track horse racing results. Courtesies will not be exchanged. Expect the throttle to be on the floor.

You’ll then reflexively grab a handle and try not to slide out of the dark blue vinyl seats as you swerve and turn through the narrow city streets. Finally, before arriving at your destination, you will have your small bills and coins ready to avoid aggravating the driver with a time-consuming exit.

“When they drop you off, you kind of have to rush,” said Sylvia He, a professor of urban studies at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, who, like many residents of this city, feels conditioned to walk on eggshells around a taxi. “I don’t want to delay their next order.”

For many taxi drivers, impatience and rudeness are a reflection of their harsh reality: when they’re struggling in a business with dwindling financial rewards, no time can be wasted on social niceties. For example, Lau Man Hung, a 63-year-old driver, skips meals or bathroom breaks just to stay behind the wheel long enough to take home about $2,500 a month, barely enough to get by in a car. The most expensive cities in the world.

“Some customers are very impressed,” Mr. Lau said, using a Cantonese word for causing trouble and inconvenience. “They like to complain about which way to go. They tell you to go faster.”

Fragile industry economics

Driving a taxi was a good way to make a living. But business has become more difficult, exacerbated by the fallout from the economic slowdown in mainland China. The city has had difficulty reviving its appeal with tourists, while bars and nightclubs, once bustling with crowds confined to narrow alleyways, now attract fewer revelers.

Even before the economic crisis, some taxi license holders were struggling. Taxi licenses are limited by the government and are traded on an unregulated market. Some owners suffered huge losses after a speculative bubble drove prices to nearly $1 million per license a decade ago, then burst.

Today, the value of licenses is about two-thirds of their highest levels in a decade. Many companies and drivers with licenses focus more on recouping losses than on improving service.

Tin Shing Motors, a family-owned company, manages drivers and sells mortgages for taxi licenses and taxi insurance. Chris Chan, a 47-year-old third-generation member of the company, says Tin Shing is saddled with mortgages bought when the value of licenses was much higher.

To get rid of this debt, Mr Chan needs to rent out his taxis as much as possible. But he is struggling to find drivers. Many taxi drivers have aged, and young people have largely moved away from hard work. He added that profit margins have diminished, especially with the cost of insurance nearly doubling in recent years. Although Uber operates in a gray area in Hong Kong, it has also alienated a large portion of customers.

“It’s getting harder and harder to make money,” Chan said.

At the bottom are drivers, nearly half of whom are 60 or older. Many cannot afford to retire. They have to earn about $14 an hour to break even after paying for gas and their car rental. For them, cash in hand is better than waiting days for electronic payments to clear.

A blue collar job makes them professionals

Tension escalates between the public and taxi drivers through mutual finger-pointing. When the government launched the courtesy campaign last year, one driver told a TV reporter that it was the passengers who were being rude.

In many ways, Hong Kong taxi drivers embody the high-pressure, low-key culture of the city’s working class. Their gruffness is not unlike the service one gets at Cha Chan Ting, the ubiquitous local teahouses that feed the masses with egg sandwiches, instant noodles and saccharin milk tea. Servers are curt, but fast.

“People tend to have one bad experience and remember it for the rest of their lives,” said Hong Wing Tat, a retired professor who has studied the taxi industry. “As a result, there is an impression among the public that all taxi drivers are bad when most of them just want to earn a living. They don’t want any problems.”

In fact, there are taxi drivers like Joe Fong, 45, who sees no value in antagonizing his customers and has tried to adapt to his passengers’ needs.

“Why fight?” Mr. Fong said. “We need each other. You need a ride and I need your money.”

Mr. Fong maximizes his income by dividing his time between driving a private car for Uber and taxiing for a taxi fleet called Alliance. Mr Fong has five mobile phones mounted on his dashboard. He welcomes electronic payment, and was not surprised when Alliance installed cameras in all its taxis last year.

“I’m not like those old guys,” said Fung, who drives one of Hong Kong’s newest hybrid taxis made by Toyota, which looks like a cross between a London taxi and a PT Cruiser taxi. The world has changed. You have to accept that.”

Olivia Wang Contributed to reports.