Transcript for:
Dabbawala System vs U.S. Food Delivery Industry

In the last five years, the food delivery industry  in the United States has almost quadrupled,   as Americans all collectively came together  and agreed that Chipotle should cost three   times more money. Meanwhile, fees have gotten  worse, small restaurants are being extorted,   delivery drivers are getting their tips stolen,  and there’s still, like, a 30% chance that if   you order a burger from Shake Shack it’s going to  take 75 minutes and when it shows up it’s going to   be someone else’s half-melted pint of ice cream.  This is as good as it gets… that is, unless you   live in Mumbai. For the last 130 years, Mumbai,  India has operated one of the most efficient   and reliable food delivery systems in the world,  delivering 300,000 lunches per day, with precision   timing and an error rate of only 0.0001%. All of  this is done entirely offline, with a fleet of   5,000 predominantly illiterate delivery workers  who organize their supply chain themselves. Oh,   and did I mention that it only costs, like, 6  dollars a month, and still turns a profit while   every major food delivery app somehow manages to  lose all of the money that they gouged by charging   you 37 dollars for pad thai? Let’s talk about it. The year was 1890, and Mumbai was rapidly   industrializing. As the Great Indian Peninsular  Railway extended out across the country, rural   Indians and British colonizers alike poured into  town. The new spectrum of different cultures also   came with different tastes, and when lunchtime  rolled around, the local restaurants couldn’t   quite support the diverse… um… look, basically  what I’m trying to say is that British people   are too racist to eat food that tastes good  and there weren’t any restaurants that served   wet bread or whatever it is that British people  eat. So, a fellow by the name of Mahadeo Havaji   Bachche decided to start a delivery service that  would pick up home-cooked meals from people’s   houses in the morning, and deliver them to their  offices at lunchtime—that way, everyone could eat   a lunch from their own… culture. The delivery  men were called “dabbawalas”—“dabba” being the   standardized cylindrical lunch container that  they used to transport meals, and “wala” being…   “guy,” I guess. For a small monthly payment, these  dabbawalas would pick up your lunch each workday,   and deliver it, on the hour, to wherever you  worked. And the system worked so well that   it has remained, mostly unchanged—though far,  far larger—for the last century. The question   remains, then: how does it actually work? Well, the dabbawalas do not operate like   traditional delivery drivers—from your kitchen to  your office, your lunch will be handed off to at   least 3, but up to 12 different people, and take  multiple different forms of transportation on its   way to you. All of this is coordinated not by  a computer or a map, but by a collection of 4   to 5 colored symbols painted on top of each dabba,  which contain the information not only of where to   deliver it, but also the route the container needs  to take and who’s responsible for each step of the   journey. It all starts here, with a symbol that  denotes one of Mumbai’s 150 train stations. The   entire dabbawala delivery system is built around  the Mumbai Suburban Railway—one of the busiest   and most extensive commuter railways in the world.  Each station serves as an initial collection hub   for the surrounding households, which themselves  are grouped into smaller areas that are each   overseen by a single dabbawala, labeled from A to  Z; so, for example, VLP would mean the container   should start its journey at “Vile Parle” station,  and “E” would indicate that it should be collected   by the dabbawalla assigned to that station’s  “E” zone, which, in this case, are the houses   along Hanuman street. Every morning, from 8:30  to 9:30, the dabbawalas collect lunches from the   households in their zone—usually between 25 and 35  stops—which each need to go off without a hitch in   order to keep the process moving. If a customer’s  lunch is too heavy, they’ll get a fine. If they   don’t have it ready to be picked up in time, the  dabbawala can drop them as a customer altogether.   It’s sort of similar to my proposal for DoorDash,  which is that if you make your driver wait   for more than 5 minutes, the driver should be  allowed to come inside your house and kill you.  From 9:30 to 10:30, the dabbawalas take their  25-35 lunches, by foot or by bicycle, to a   collection center outside the station. Here, the  containers are sorted by the middle symbol—this   one here—which indicates the destination station.  Once sorted by destination, each collection of   containers are handed off to a second group of  dabbawalas, who are given just 40 seconds to   load the lunches onto the goods compartment at  the front of the correct train. If any of the   containers need to transfer trains to reach their  final station, the dabbawalas will have already   identified a secondary transfer hub along the  route—like Mumbai Central—where the containers can   be handed off to a third group of dabbawalas and  loaded onto their next train in under 20 seconds.  By around 11 or 11:30, the containers will  have reached their final station. Here,   they’re sorted once again by the final part of  their code—these symbols here. Much like the   zones at each origin station, each destination  station is also broken up into smaller zones,   managed by one designated dabbawala—Churchgate  station, for example, has 10 zones, with the 9 on   this container indicating Nariman point. So, the  dabbawalla responsible for that zone will take all   of their containers—again, by bike or by foot—to  the buildings indicated in this part of the code,   and then finally to the floor marked by the code’s  final digit. Every single lunch—all 300,000 of   them—have to be delivered precisely within the  window of 12:30 to 1pm; any slip up in any part   of this process, and this window is missed, the  worker goes hungry, their work efficacy plummets,   India’s GDP starts tanking, and China becomes  the new United States. So, pressure’s on,   every single morning. And then—just as  efficiently as they were delivered—each   container needs to be collected a half hour later  and this whole process has to happen in reverse,   returning the containers to every single household  so that they can be reused again the next day.  So… why don’t you have it this good?  Well, part of the problem is that you,   dear viewer, are a special snowflake  living in an indulgent western society,   and you don’t actually want to schedule your lunch  delivery a month ahead of time—no, you want to   eat red velvet-flavored rice pudding at 3:14 am,  which is a desire that cannot truly be factored   into any kind of rational, standardized supply  chain. But that’s not the whole story—obviously,   the repetitive, pre-organized structure of  this system leads to gains in efficiency and   consistency—but it still wouldn’t function this  well without the unique way that it’s managed.  You see, the dabbawalas are not a single corporate  entity—they’re broken up into about 200 different   self-governing groups, each with their own  coding system, culture, and routes. These groups   negotiate among themselves to add new members,  to elect dabbawalas to positions of power,   and most importantly, to sign new customers. If  you pay to get your lunch delivered through the   dabbawala system, it’s going to be picked up by  the same person every single day, and delivered   by the same person every single day. These are  the same people that can negotiate your rates,   determine your lunch’s route, and drop you as a  customer if they feel like it—so there’s a mutual   sense of responsibility, and even community, for  everyone involved. People trust their dabbawalas,   and in turn, the dabbawalas know exactly  who they’re serving and how to serve them;   in 1993, amidst repeated domestic bombings of  the Mumbai Suburban Railway, the only riders   who weren’t frisked were the dabbawalas—their  local communities knew who they were, and the   dabbawalas knew if they were carrying a container  that had been tampered with. Imagine trusting   your DoorDash driver with your life. I don’t even  trust my DoorDash driver to not spit in my food;   I just accept that it’s already been spat  in. So maybe, the problem we have is a lack   of community and sense of trust in one another.  Or maybe it’s capitalism. Or maybe those are the   same thing. I don’t know. Maybe try giving your  DoorDash driver an unsolicited hug next time:   you never know what might happen. 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