The rise of electric rickshaws, commonly known as e-rickshaws, has become one of the most visible transformations in urban transport systems across South Asia, especially in countries like Bangladesh, India, and Pakistan. Marketed as a green and sustainable alternative to traditional diesel-fueled three-wheelers, e-rickshaws promise lower emissions, reduced noise pollution, and more affordable mobility for both passengers and operators. However, beneath the veneer of environmental sustainability lies a complex terrain of class struggle, labor precarity, and political economy. Who truly benefits from this shift toward “green mobility” and who remains excluded is a question that has profound sociological and economic implications.
At first glance, the proliferation of e-rickshaws seems universally beneficial. Urban air quality in congested neighborhoods can improve significantly, and the vehicles’ low operating costs make them accessible to the urban poor.
In Dhaka, for example, a traditional cycle rickshaw or diesel auto-rickshaw might require a daily investment in fuel or maintenance that exceeds what most low-income workers can afford.
E-rickshaws, by contrast, operate on rechargeable batteries and offer higher earning potential due to their faster speed and ability to serve more passengers per day. This technical transition, framed as an ecological innovation, ostensibly empowers small operators—those who previously had no access to motorized transport—to participate in the modern urban economy.
However, this narrative obscures the structural inequalities embedded in the e-rickshaw ecosystem. Ownership patterns reveal a stark class dimension: in many cities, the drivers themselves do not own the vehicles. Instead, they rent e-rickshaws from private owners or intermediary companies at a daily or weekly rate.
While this arrangement allows laborers to access a technologically advanced vehicle, it also traps them in cycles of debt and economic vulnerability.
In Dhaka, it is common for a driver to pay 300–400 Bangladeshi taka per day to a vehicle owner, regardless of how many fares they collect. Consequently, despite the appearance of independence, drivers remain economically subordinated, mirroring broader urban class hierarchies where control over capital—here, the e-rickshaw—dictates social and financial mobility.
The production and distribution of e-rickshaws further underscores the inequalities inherent in “sustainable” transport. Most vehicles are imported from countries like China, with local assembly often minimal and low-wage, labor-intensive. As a result, the wealth generated from the e-rickshaw market accrues disproportionately to foreign manufacturers and domestic middlemen who control imports and credit.
Local drivers, by contrast, bear the physical labor, maintenance costs, and accident risks without commensurate gains. This dynamic creates a layered exploitation, where ecological benefits are enjoyed by urban populations in general, but the economic benefits remain highly concentrated.
Policy frameworks in South Asia often exacerbate these inequalities rather than mitigate them. Governments, attracted by the promise of reduced urban emissions, have provided subsidies or regulatory support for e-rickshaws. However, enforcement of labor protections and safety standards remains weak.
In Bangladesh, for instance, e-rickshaw drivers frequently operate without formal licenses, social security, or accident insurance, despite regulatory recognition of the vehicles. Municipal authorities often turn a blind eye to overcrowded streets and unsafe practices, tolerating informal labor arrangements that disadvantage the poorest operators.
In this sense, “sustainable transport” becomes a policy slogan that masks class exploitation: the environment may benefit, but the laborers who make it possible remain vulnerable.
The discourse surrounding e-rickshaws is also heavily shaped by notions of technological modernity. Middle-class urbanites and policymakers often celebrate e-rickshaws as symbols of progress and innovation. However, this framing can erase the voices of drivers themselves, who experience e-rickshaw work as physically demanding, socially stigmatized, and economically insecure.
In many neighborhoods, e-rickshaw drivers are marginalized by residents who perceive them as noisy or disorderly, even while they provide essential mobility services. This social marginalization mirrors the broader class hierarchies in which laborers produce value but remain socially invisible. In this context, “green transport” appears progressive, but the progress is unevenly distributed.
Gender dynamics add another layer of complexity to the class struggle embedded in e-rickshaw transport. While men overwhelmingly dominate driving roles, women often participate in the sector indirectly, managing households dependent on e-rickshaw earnings or engaging in battery maintenance and other support labor.
Women’s labor, like men’s, is undervalued, and their economic dependence on male drivers reinforces patriarchal hierarchies. Moreover, the limited presence of female drivers reflects broader societal norms that restrict women’s mobility and economic agency, illustrating how class, gender, and labor intersect within the supposedly egalitarian sphere of sustainable transport.
Global environmental narratives also intersect with local class struggles in important ways. International development agencies and NGOs often champion e-rickshaws as solutions to climate change and urban pollution, emphasizing carbon reduction metrics and climate finance.
While these goals are essential, they can obscure the micro-level realities of exploitation. Carbon credits and environmental incentives often flow to municipalities or vehicle importers, not to the workers who shoulder the daily risks of e-rickshaw operation.
This global-local tension reveals a broader pattern in which sustainable technologies, though framed as universally beneficial, can reinforce existing inequalities unless deliberate measures are taken to empower laborers.
The question of control—who governs the future of sustainable urban transport—is therefore both economic and political.
Ownership structures, regulatory oversight, and labor protections determine whether e-rickshaws serve as tools for upward mobility or instruments of exploitation.
In some instances, driver cooperatives or unions have emerged to challenge exploitative rental arrangements, pooling resources to collectively own vehicles or negotiate fairer rates with middlemen. Such grassroots initiatives demonstrate the potential for sustainable transport to empower marginalized groups, but they remain exceptions in a system dominated by profit-driven intermediaries.
The structural barriers—capital requirements, bureaucratic hurdles, and social marginalization—remain formidable obstacles to widespread worker empowerment.
From a sociological perspective, the case of e-rickshaws highlights the broader contradictions of “green capitalism.” Environmental technologies are celebrated as solutions to ecological crises, yet the social relations embedded in their deployment often replicate existing hierarchies. Workers provide the labor, bear the risks, and sustain the system, while the benefits—financial, symbolic, and technological—accrue to those who control capital or political influence. The sustainable transport narrative, therefore, is inseparable from struggles over class, labor, and social recognition.
Looking forward, addressing these inequalities requires multifaceted interventions. Policy must move beyond simple vehicle subsidies to include labor protections, social security, and avenues for collective ownership.
Municipal planning should integrate driver voices into decision-making, ensuring that street-level realities inform regulatory frameworks.
Moreover, international development discourse must recognize that climate-friendly technologies are not inherently just; their social and economic impacts must be critically assessed to avoid perpetuating inequality.
In essence, sustainability cannot be measured solely in terms of emissions reduction—it must also account for equity, empowerment, and social justice.
Electric rickshaws offer an instructive case study of the intersections between technology, class, and urban sustainability. While these vehicles promise ecological benefits and accessible mobility, the distribution of economic and social gains remains profoundly uneven. Drivers often operate under precarious conditions, owners and intermediaries capture disproportionate profits, and women’s participation remains limited.
Understanding e-rickshaws through the lens of class struggle illuminates the hidden power dynamics behind seemingly progressive innovations.
Ultimately, truly sustainable transport cannot be achieved without addressing these structural inequalities, ensuring that the laborers who sustain the system also benefit from the social, economic, and environmental gains it produces.
Sustainable mobility must therefore be reimagined not merely as a technological or environmental challenge but as a deeply social and political project, one in which equity and empowerment are as central as emissions reduction and urban efficiency.
*Author: Dr Matiur Rahman is a researcher and development professional. He can be reached at [email protected]. Views expressed in this article are the author's own.*
