The storm over London's Uber ban sits right at the very heart of the debate about modern economic and political life. When the app's disruptive power transformed the way in which many people travel around the city, it threw up a whole host of issues.
There's the impact on traditional black cabs and the minicab trade, along with the claim that the company spends incredible sums of money subsidising fares in a way that's designed to eliminate competition. There's the employment status of the Uber drivers, which is subject to ongoing legal dispute. And then, of course, there are the tax arrangements of the company itself.
Undoubtedly the most controversial issue of all was the accusation that Uber fails to vet its drivers properly and has been selective in the crimes that it has chosen to report to the police.
Uber doesn't see its role as one of policeman. It doesn't even consider the drivers to be its employees. If it did, there would immediately be all kinds of implications in relation to tax and benefits which start to destroy the whole model of the free-wheeling San Francisco firm.
And behind all of these really tricky questions, there is an even more fundamental one. How far can government regulate multinational corporations? While the Mayor of London undoubtedly wields considerable power, does it compare to that of a corporation which generates billions of dollars of revenue every quarter (albeit at a considerable loss)?
Uber, in many respects, is an archetype of the modern corporate era. It brings convenience, makes use of innovative technology and delivers cheaper fares, but all the benefits come at a cost.
That cost is arguably felt by the firm's drivers, who may end up working long hours for little recompense, without the protections of employment law. It's felt by competitors, who see themselves at the mercy of a predatory behemoth. And it's felt by society, if the inadequate vetting of drivers has indeed led to a disproportionate level of criminality.
So this is a story for our times about the so-called 'gig' economy, the power of multinational corporations and the expectations of taxi users - particularly those under the age of 35 - of instant gratification by mobile phone.
What's interesting at a political level is that Labour is potentially picking a fight with the young crowd that embraced the party in the June 2017 general election. Because if there's one thing that goes along with singing 'Ooh Jeremy Corbyn' at a music festival, it's an Uber on the journey home.
The attitude of the Corbyn cult to firms such as Uber is predictable. Shadow Business Secretary Rebecca Long-Bailey is on record as saying that she feels it's 'morally wrong' to use the service. (We can only presume she never receives a package from Amazon or orders a pizza.)
But the ban has been instituted by Sadiq Khan, a man so unpopular with the Corbyn wing of the Labour Party that he's struggled to get a speaking slot at this year's conference. It also seems to be supported by MPs from the moderate wing of the Party, such as Wes Streeting. Can these sensible politicians really be as out of touch with London sentiment as the far-left Labour leadership which they privately (and sometimes publicly) decry?
My hunch - and I'll be interested to see whether it's borne out by polling research - is that the ban will actually be more popular with Tory voters, who now tend to be older and romanticise the past, while bemusing the younger generation that has been increasingly drawn to Labour.
We live in a society which expresses increasing disquiet about the consequences of capitalism, while embracing all the trappings provided by the very system it condemns. If you want to protest against Apple or Facebook, no one seems to think that sharing a meme on your iPhone is an inappropriate or even remotely ironic way of doing it.
Uber will fight TfL in court over the ban, but the bigger battle will be for public opinion. Perhaps that's where they already have the edge.
There's the impact on traditional black cabs and the minicab trade, along with the claim that the company spends incredible sums of money subsidising fares in a way that's designed to eliminate competition. There's the employment status of the Uber drivers, which is subject to ongoing legal dispute. And then, of course, there are the tax arrangements of the company itself.
Undoubtedly the most controversial issue of all was the accusation that Uber fails to vet its drivers properly and has been selective in the crimes that it has chosen to report to the police.
Uber doesn't see its role as one of policeman. It doesn't even consider the drivers to be its employees. If it did, there would immediately be all kinds of implications in relation to tax and benefits which start to destroy the whole model of the free-wheeling San Francisco firm.
And behind all of these really tricky questions, there is an even more fundamental one. How far can government regulate multinational corporations? While the Mayor of London undoubtedly wields considerable power, does it compare to that of a corporation which generates billions of dollars of revenue every quarter (albeit at a considerable loss)?
Uber, in many respects, is an archetype of the modern corporate era. It brings convenience, makes use of innovative technology and delivers cheaper fares, but all the benefits come at a cost.
That cost is arguably felt by the firm's drivers, who may end up working long hours for little recompense, without the protections of employment law. It's felt by competitors, who see themselves at the mercy of a predatory behemoth. And it's felt by society, if the inadequate vetting of drivers has indeed led to a disproportionate level of criminality.
So this is a story for our times about the so-called 'gig' economy, the power of multinational corporations and the expectations of taxi users - particularly those under the age of 35 - of instant gratification by mobile phone.
What's interesting at a political level is that Labour is potentially picking a fight with the young crowd that embraced the party in the June 2017 general election. Because if there's one thing that goes along with singing 'Ooh Jeremy Corbyn' at a music festival, it's an Uber on the journey home.
The attitude of the Corbyn cult to firms such as Uber is predictable. Shadow Business Secretary Rebecca Long-Bailey is on record as saying that she feels it's 'morally wrong' to use the service. (We can only presume she never receives a package from Amazon or orders a pizza.)
But the ban has been instituted by Sadiq Khan, a man so unpopular with the Corbyn wing of the Labour Party that he's struggled to get a speaking slot at this year's conference. It also seems to be supported by MPs from the moderate wing of the Party, such as Wes Streeting. Can these sensible politicians really be as out of touch with London sentiment as the far-left Labour leadership which they privately (and sometimes publicly) decry?
My hunch - and I'll be interested to see whether it's borne out by polling research - is that the ban will actually be more popular with Tory voters, who now tend to be older and romanticise the past, while bemusing the younger generation that has been increasingly drawn to Labour.
We live in a society which expresses increasing disquiet about the consequences of capitalism, while embracing all the trappings provided by the very system it condemns. If you want to protest against Apple or Facebook, no one seems to think that sharing a meme on your iPhone is an inappropriate or even remotely ironic way of doing it.
Uber will fight TfL in court over the ban, but the bigger battle will be for public opinion. Perhaps that's where they already have the edge.
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