Urban Company recently launched an experimental venture that promises to be the “future of domestic work in India.”

'Insta Maids' is a convenient solution for when your domestic help fails to show up or meet your every demand — you can now hire them for only Rs 49 per hour as an introductory offer to do any household task that needs to be done. While this offer is a customer acquisition cost for which Urban Company will bear the loss, the domestic helps themselves will receive Rs 150-180 per hour and be given insurance.

The catch? None, if you ignore the implicit gendered promotion in the name, advertisement, and the nature of work they are selling. The name – 'Insta Maids' or 'Insta Help' – reinforces gender stereotypes with the term 'maid' invariably evoking the image of a woman.

Judith Butler’s concept of 'Speech Acts' shows us that language is not only descriptive but performative because it constructs social realities.

The word ‘maid’ frames domestic work as low-status, feminised labour.

While Urban Company has changed the word 'maid' to 'help' now following outrage over the sexist language of the service, it can hardly gloss over the gendered reality of domestic labour. The International Labour Organisation (ILO) estimates that women account for three-quarters of the 75.6 million domestic workers globally, further entrenching the association between gender and domestic labour.

The picture accompanying the promotion for this service doesn’t dispel this notion. It depicts a woman in a saree looking dismayed as she reads a text from her 'maid', saying she won’t be able to come to work.

A promotional video includes the text — "Maid on leave again? We’ve got you covered."

Aside from the way it frames the maid’s autonomy as an inconvenience, this portrayal also supports the stereotype that women in households are primarily responsible for domestic help.

The Facebook post where the scheme was announced is accompanied by the caption: "Just like your 2-minute noodles (but for cleaning)!" The way this statement turns labour into a product completely contradicts the company’s apparent dedication to the worker’s dignity.

The problem isn’t with acknowledging the hassle caused by domestic help not turning up, but rather when the labour provided is shown to be an on-demand service, stripping the worker of their agency. 

When we equate a person’s work to a convenience product, it reinforces the idea that domestic workers are replaceable tools rather than individuals with rights and livelihoods.

Consumer impatience may be catered to, but it comes at the cost of reducing human effort to a transactional service that the privileged consume at their convenience. 

Urban Company refers to its workers as 'partners' — a term that implies autonomy and equality but often masks the ambiguous conditions of gig work. Many beauticians and salon workers had joined the platform for its promised flexibility and the potential to earn higher wages than in traditional employment, yet the system is built to prioritise consumer satisfaction over worker rights. 

A case study on Uber shows how gig platforms maximise profits by shifting financial risks onto workers and controlling them through rating systems, incentives, and algorithmic work allocation. This pattern is replicated by Urban Company as well.

On Urban Company, these beauticians were ranked into gold, silver, and bronze tiers based on their ratings, cancellation limits, and adherence to weekend hours. These rankings determine their access to benefits such as temporary immunity from account blocking (30 to 60 days), small business loans of up to Rs 40,000, and health insurance of Rs 2 lakh, but only for the highest-ranking gold partners.

This gamified performance system forces workers to constantly maintain high ratings while limiting their control over work conditions.

Performance requirements mandate that they maintain a rating of at least 4.7 out of 5 and accept at least 70 percent of job leads. And workers are permitted only four cancellations per month—exceeding this limit puts them at risk of account suspension or blocking. 

This platformised labour has already faced resistance. In October 2021, over 100 beauticians and salon workers protested against low wages, high commissions, and unsafe working conditions. Despite operating in a relatively skilled sector, these workers struggled to secure fair wages and adequate working conditions.

Despite these challenges, there are no national labour laws specifically protecting gig workers. According to NITI Aayog's 2022 report, there were 7.7 million gig and platform workers in India in 2020-21, with the number expected to rise to 23.5 million by 2029-30. 

Rajasthan was the first state to introduce a law for gig workers, the Platform-Based Gig Workers (Registration and Welfare) Act in July 2023, mandating platforms to contribute 1-2 percent cess fee to a welfare board, which will provide social security benefits.

However, the Act primarily benefits location-based gig workers, leaving out home-based or web-based workers, many of whom are women.

Additionally, platforms outside Rajasthan’s jurisdiction can still hire workers without compliance. While this model could extend protections to domestic workers, it requires stronger enforcement, comprehensive coverage, and a clear grievance mechanism to prevent exclusion and bureaucratic inefficiencies.

Now, Urban Company is expanding into domestic work, an even more vulnerable sector. Unlike beauty services, domestic work remains deeply informal, with 67 percent of women in self-employment and average wages as low as Rs 17,000 per month approximately.

If beauticians faced challenges despite their specialised skills, the risks of failure for domestic workers in this gig model are exponentially higher.

At first glance, Urban Company's 'Insta Maids' service appears to be a step towards economic empowerment for domestic workers. After all, the hourly wage of Rs 150-180 is significantly higher than what many full-time domestic workers earn. But is this a fair wage, or merely an illusion of prosperity? A closer look at the numbers tells a different story.

A gig worker under Urban Company’s model could potentially make more than what they usually earn if they manage to secure three to four hours of work daily. But this comes with a few downsides: work is inconsistent, unpredictable, and lacks basic benefits like sick leave, maternity leave, or even pension security.

In reality, many workers will struggle to get enough bookings, leaving their actual earnings well below the promised figures.

A critical issue is the commission model. Gig platforms like Urban Company charge workers a commission ranging from 10 percent to 30 percent per job, significantly reducing take-home pay. Additionally, service providers must cover transportation, uniforms, training fees, and even penalties for cancellations—expenses that are traditionally borne by employers in a formal job.

This shifts financial risk from the company to the worker, making their position even more uncertain.

This economic model isn’t new. It follows the trajectory of ride-hailing apps, where initial high wages attract workers before commissions rise and payouts shrink. The Fairwork India Ratings 2024 report reveals that no gig platform in India meets all fair work standards, and many fail to provide even minimum wage guarantees after accounting for work-related costs.

With unstable earnings and a lack of social security, gig workers, especially women in domestic labor, might face heightened financial instability under these platforms.

The challenges faced by platform-based domestic workers in India are not unique but part of a global trend in the gig economy.

A 2023 World Bank report found that online gig work now accounts for up to 12 percent of the global labour force, with job postings growing by 130 percent in developing countries compared to just 14 percent in North America.

However, this rapid expansion has not translated into better protections— only 40 percent of platform workers worldwide have health insurance, and fewer than 20 percent receive pension benefits. Without regulatory safeguards, platform-based domestic labour risks reinforcing – rather than challenging – existing inequalities.

The question then arises: is the tech-driven future of domestic work merely a new veneer on an old system of exploitation?

If wages remain unregulated and protections are not legally enforced, this model does not empower workers, it merely reshapes their exploitation to fit a digital framework. Domestic work has long been a feminised, undervalued sector, with women in India earning 22-39 percent less than men, and the gender wage gap narrowing from 48 percent in 1993-94 to 34 percent in 2011-12, according to the ILO Wage Report.

By prioritising efficiency and consumer convenience over labour rights, gig platforms risk deepening the economic insecurity of an already vulnerable workforce.

[This article has been written by Deepanshu Mohan, Anania Singhal, Nandita Purvi, Shivali Yadav and Suhani Sharma under the Swabhimaan initiative of the Centre for New Economics Studies, OP Jindal Global University.]

(Deepanshu Mohan is a Professor of Economics, Dean, IDEAS, Office of Inter-Disciplinary Studies, and Director of Centre for New Economics Studies (CNES), OP Jindal Global University. He is a Visiting Professor at the London School of Economics, and a 2024 Fall Academic Visitor to the Faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies, University of Oxford. This is an opinion piece. The views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)