Couriers in control: rigid digital oversight vs. human ingenuity
Sociologist Zhuang Jiachi investigates the country's couriers caught up in the web of digital management.
From July to November 2016, 庄家炽 Zhuang Jiachi, then a doctoral student at Peking University, joined the ranks of couriers amidst the rapid growth of online shopping in China. He lived in a cramped 12-person dorm with bunk beds and experienced firsthand the delivery chaos of the Singles’ Day frenzy.
Through this experience, Zhuang gained insight into couriers’ work routines and relationships, including subtle negotiations with community security guards to ensure entry and the tightening grip of digital management systems. Zhuang’s doctoral dissertation, 追系统的人：快递员的劳动过程与社会关系网络 The Catcher in the System: The Labour Process and Social Network of Couriers, derived from his courier experience, was recently published as a book in February 2025 by China Renmin University Press.
Zhuang’s doctoral dissertation, 追系统的人：快递员的劳动过程与社会关系网络 The Catcher in the System: The Labour Process and Social Network of Couriers, which derived from his courier experience, was recently published as a book in February 2025 by China Renmin University Press.
Currently a Visiting Fellow at the Paul and Marcia Wythes Center on Contemporary China at Princeton University, Zhuang is an Associate Professor in the Department of Sociology at the Central University of Finance and Economics in Beijing.
Zhuang’s research is particularly relevant and compelling in its examination of how digital systems have reduced workers to mere units of labour and behaviour—monitored, calculated, punished, and controlled down to the minutest detail. He highlights, for instance, how these systems and algorithms fail in—or are incapable of—accommodating real-world complexities such as difficult customers, unpredictable delivery conditions, or heavy workloads, all while rigidly enforcing delivery deadlines. As a result, the burden of delivery pressure and rule violations falls “directly and brutally” on the couriers.
The good news is, that couriers have been navigating the rigid digital system through social connections and informal strategies. They build relationships with recipients, establish tacit agreements to make shortcuts and workarounds, and negotiate complaints to avoid penalties. Despite algorithmic control, they have managed to assert autonomy, and their humanity shines through in an otherwise dehumanising system. Nevertheless, the system must evolve to compete not only on efficiency but on service, quality, and safety, Zhuang urges.
This following post features an interview with Zhuang conducted by 极昼工作室 White Night Studio under Sohu News in March 2023, followed by an excerpt from his newly published book.
当北大博士去送快递
When a Peking University PhD Becomes a Courier
On March 1, 2024, the Regulations on the Management of the Courier Market, known as the "new courier rules," officially came into effect. One of the most debated clauses states that, without customers’ consent, courier companies cannot drop off packages at third-party-operated parcel collection stations or lockers. While the public largely supports this rule, couriers are facing increased work pressure and higher risks of fines.
In response, Zhuang Jiachi, Associate Professor at the Central University of Finance and Economics, warns that if the new rules are strictly enforced without adjusting couriers’ traditional labour processes, “couriers might be worked to death on their way to deliver packages.”
Zhuang has been studying couriers since 2016 when he was a doctoral student in the Department of Sociology at Peking University. As part of his research, he spent several months conducting fieldwork at two delivery centres of a major franchise-based courier company in China and has continued his long-term observation of this group of workers ever since.
White Night Studio talked to Zhuang Jiachi about his experience as a courier, his views on the labour process of couriers, and the new rules. Below are his comments:
I. The “Demands” of the System
When I first read the new courier rules, my immediate thought was that if couriers were asked to strictly follow them, they might end up working themselves to death on their routes.
There’s no doubt that these new rules are a positive step toward better market regulation and consumer protection. However, it’s also important to recognise the concerns raised by couriers. On the surface, the conflict seems to be between couriers and consumers, but at its core, it’s really a struggle between couriers and the “system”.
Systems and algorithms have been somewhat “deified”—seen as precise, efficient, and automatic, almost “omnipotent”. But the realities couriers face are far more complicated. At least in the courier industry, these systems and algorithms either fail to account for real-world complexities or simply lack the ability to address them, all the while rigidly enforcing high-efficiency demands to the letter. For instance, a package must be delivered by some precise time on a specific day, with no exceptions. In the end, it’s the couriers who have to deal with complex and uncertain tasks.
In the autumn of 2016, I joined a major franchise-based courier company, working as an apprentice at two delivery centres in J City for several months each. I lived and ate alongside the couriers, learning from them, and even spent a month “interning” at the company’s headquarters in between.
To cut costs, Delivery Center A was located in an urban village, more than 10 kilometres from the farthest service area. I still vividly remember my first day—while crossing a bridge, the courier I was with ran a red light and refused to take a detour, speeding across against the flow of traffic. At that moment, I thought to myself: If I get hit, I’ll probably make the news before I even finish my fieldwork. The headline would read something like—“Peking University PhD Killed on Highway Bridge, Riding Electric Tricycle Against Traffic.”
Every morning, couriers were assigned a heavy load of deliveries. At the time, packages were split into “morning shift” and “evening shift” deliveries. Morning shift packages had to be delivered and signed into the system by 2 PM, while evening shift packages had to be completed by 10 PM. No matter the size or weight of the package or the specific conditions of the neighbourhood—such as restricted delivery hours—the system’s deadlines remained rigidly fixed at 2 PM and 10 PM, down to the second.
The courier I was working with told me that, in his experience, a day was relatively easy when delivering only 100 packages—on such days, he could probably finish the morning shift before lunch. Afterwards, he could leisurely ride through the streets, enjoying the breeze. However, he rarely strayed beyond his designated delivery area, which he knew like the back of his hand—which gate to enter, which security guard was easy to negotiate with, and which office building lift was best avoided. Areas outside his delivery zone in J City felt unfamiliar, even a little intimidating, and he had never even visited a famous tourist landmark just across the street.
In reality, these idle moments were only a handful over the year. In 2016, couriers typically delivered between 120 and 180 packages a day, and if they had more than 150, they had little to no time to rest, working nonstop from early morning until 8 or 9 PM.
By the end of the day, couriers would have walked over 30,000 steps. I had a regular exercise routine and had even run marathons, but during my first couple of weeks following the couriers, my legs were sore every evening.
The most dreaded deliveries were to old neighbourhoods—these areas had no lifts, irregular layouts, and often a large number of buildings. After a few days, I noticed that deliveries in these buildings weren’t evenly distributed across floors but were concentrated on the fifth and sixth floors. At first, I wondered why residents on the first or second floors didn’t order packages online. Later, I realised that lower-floor apartments were often home to the landlords’ elderly family members, while the upper floors were usually rented out to young migrants—the main customers for online shopping.
However, for couriers, the delivery fee was always the same, no matter the neighbourhood, floor, or size of the parcel. Whether it was a single document or a heavy bag of rice, the fee was always 1 yuan per delivery (in 2016).
One time, a customer living on the sixth floor ordered a toilet weighing several dozen kilograms and insisted on doorstep delivery. The courier told him that since he only earned 1 yuan per delivery, the customer would have to come downstairs to pick it up, or he would mark the delivery as refused. The two ended up arguing over the phone.
Assuming an average of 150 deliveries per day, a courier would earn about 4,500 yuan [$619] a month. With additional income from parcel pickups, their monthly earnings would rise to around 6,000 to 6,500 yuan [$825–894].
Because of this, couriers were often reluctant to take on extra deliveries. Even if they handled 30 more parcels a day, they would barely make an extra 1,000 yuan per month. On top of that, the number of parcels was unpredictable; no one knew how many would arrive at the delivery centre the next day. However many showed up, the couriers must deliver them all.
During my investigation, I discovered that couriers particularly hated the “Singles’ Day” online shopping festival. During the peak period, they had to deliver 300 to 400 packages a day. Although their wages increased, the workload was overwhelming—like going to battle. A week before the “Singles’ Day,” the delivery centre would begin clearing backlogged packages, and once the Singles’ Day arrived, new shipments would constantly pour in and eventually pile up in the courtyard.
One image I will never forget is of a courier on an electric tricycle, with bags of packages stacked on top of the vehicle and even on the seat, hunching over and half-squatting as he sped off in a rush. At that time, eating a proper meal was a distant luxury, and working until 11 PM or even midnight was the norm. After that, they still had to log data into the system and sort packages for the next day.
This represents the conflict between workers and the system—the system only cares about efficiency, but the workers' time and physical strength are limited, inconsistent, and uneven. The system can calculate the average working hours and intensity, optimising processes and delivery routes, but it fails to account for the complexities of real-life situations, imposing one-size-fits-all approaches everywhere. The relentless pursuit of higher efficiency and cost reduction is unlikely to change anytime soon.
II. The “Flaws” in the System
Because of this contradiction, workers, in order to meet the system’s demands, actively exercise their human autonomy during the labour process—yet unwittingly infringe on consumers’ rights.
Back in 2016, when parcel collection stations or self-pickup lockers were rare, couriers had to call each recipient individually for every package. They would sort the parcels by community and building, then call each recipient one by one at the base of the building. On average, one out of every 4–5 calls would go unanswered or be rejected. At first, I thought, “Why not call a few more times?” After all, according to the company’s procedures, the courier had to get in touch with the recipient. But after a few days, I realised that many people simply didn’t want to answer. I even encountered some quite hostile individuals who, upon picking up, would curse and demand to know why I kept calling. Eventually, I limited myself to just two attempts.
There were many situations that the system simply couldn’t predict. Sometimes, community management would suddenly refuse entry; other times, after contacting a recipient, they would demand an immediate change of address. There were occasions when, after delivering a package, a courier would discover that the battery of their vehicle had been stolen. In other cases, a recipient would accept a package in person, only to later claim they hadn’t received it and demand compensation—which happened repeatedly. In the end, the company could only have another courier discreetly record video evidence at the time of delivery to provide proof if a complaint arose.
Every day, couriers had to handle a myriad of bizarre issues. For example, someone might order a pair of gloves, yet only one glove would be found in the package, prompting a complaint about the delivery. The courier would tell the recipient, “You need to contact the seller about this,” but the customer would claim not to understand the process. Eventually, the courier would end up going to the recipient’s door to sort it out for free.
These complex issues, commonplace in the labour process, are never considered by computer systems or algorithms. To cope with the system’s simplistic and blunt metrics, couriers have no choice but to exercise their human autonomy to “optimise” their work.
For example, when a call goes unanswered, most couriers rely on their experience to decide what to do. If the recipient is familiar or known to be easygoing, they’ll simply leave the package at the door. If they’re unsure, they might delay—leaving the package in the vehicle, recording an “abnormal receipt” in the system, and trying again later in the afternoon. Having 7–8 packages marked as “abnormal” in one day can be a real headache, as it might mean making a separate trip to that community in the afternoon or even the next day just for one package.
Couriers are very frustrated by repeated deliveries. Most feel that earning 1 yuan per package isn’t worth the constant back-and-forth, yet they can’t just toss the package aside or lose their temper with the recipient. Most of the time, they end up leaving it at the door.
Couriers often know the residents in their delivery area even better than the community itself. When sorting parcels, a courier can, with just a glance at the recipient’s name, tell whether the person belongs to their area, which community and floor they live on, and sometimes even their appearance, temperament, or family relations. In my doctoral dissertation, I referred to couriers as “the most familiar strangers.”
Eight years have passed since I completed that field study, yet I still remember some recipients’ names. The one who left the deepest impression was nicknamed “Karry Wang’s [a Chinese idol] First Love”. She received an enormous number of parcels, but I never met her in person. At that time, she lived on the third floor of a street-facing shared apartment and never closed the main door. So, whenever I delivered to her, I didn’t need to call—I’d just push the door open and leave the package in the living room, which was incredibly efficient. In my view, this was an unspoken tacit agreement between us. However, according to the system’s procedures, this would undoubtedly be against protocol.
During my fieldwork, I also discovered that the system actually encourages couriers to exercise their autonomy in handling complaints from recipients, which is the most challenging problem in this industry.
In this industry, couriers fear complaints and fines above all else. The most common complaint is for falsely reporting a “delivery exception.” Typically, when a courier doesn’t have time to complete a delivery on schedule, they mark a package as “recipient not at home” in the system. If the recipient later checks this information and claims they were home, the courier is fined 5 yuan. Other scenarios, such as falsely marking a delivery as successful, can result in fines of 700 yuan, while lost items require compensation equivalent to the item’s value, with a minimum fine of 300 yuan.
Within the courier company, the ratio of couriers to customer service staff is roughly 5:1. At the company where I conducted my fieldwork, there are tens of thousands of customer service staff nationwide. When a complaint—such as a “falsely reporting a successful delivery”—is received, the customer service team first contacts the courier to inform them which package is in question. The courier then calls the customer to explain, usually citing the overwhelming volume of packages and promising delivery in the afternoon. After communicating with the recipient, the courier can choose to withdraw the complaint in the system, thereby avoiding a fine.
At first, I thought this was a “flaw” in the system. Later, during interviews with management at headquarters, I learned that they had been aware of this situation from the beginning. One manager explained that the purpose of customer service is not to enforce fines to ensure timeliness but to establish a process that resolves the tension between couriers’ inability to deliver on time and recipients’ urgency to receive their packages.
When couriers actively build positive social interactions within their delivery areas—becoming acquaintances or even friends with the recipients—any delays or errors naturally become less significant. However, if a courier fails to communicate properly with a customer, triggering a second complaint, the fines are doubled: 700 yuan for “falsely reporting a successful delivery” initially, and an additional 1,000 yuan for a second complaint.
In my view, the behaviours explicitly prohibited by the new courier rules—such as marking a delivery as successful without the customer’s consent or dropping off packages at parcel collection stations or lockers without the customer’s consent—stem precisely from couriers exercising their autonomy under the dual pressures of the system’s efficiency demands and the overwhelming volume of deliveries. The negative consequence of this is that it infringes on consumers’ rights and increases their burden, particularly for the elderly, the disabled, and those with limited mobility.
III. The Declining Delivery Fees
Over the years, complaints about courier companies, especially franchise-based ones, seem to have been on the rise, and this is certainly not without good reason. Although the advantages of the franchised courier model are cost control and low shipping fees, its disadvantages are poor quality and service.
Low costs are also reflected in the couriers’ welfare. Apart from their income from deliveries, the only “benefit” couriers receive is accommodation provided by the franchisees. In 2016, at Delivery Center B, they lived in temporary shacks, while at Delivery Center A, they were housed in cubicles that had been divided out of full departments in an urban village.
I still distinctly remember their living conditions: a room for 12 people, with 6 bunk beds. The moment I entered, a strong odour of smelly feet hit me. I was assigned to the 11th bed, which was very close to the bathroom. The bathroom was stained with yellow marks, and no one bothered to clean it—just as long as it was functional. The room was dimly lit, with no clear indication of the direction—north, south, east, or west. The floor was scattered with spicy gluten strips, melon seed shells, and soda bottles. They loved tea sodas, which were very cheap, and they would drink several 1-litre bottles of tea a day.
I talked to the couriers about their future plans, and their responses were quite similar: either they would work for a few years and then return home to pursue something else, or they would try to join a company-operated courier service like SF Express or JD Express. At that time, SF’s delivery fee was about 1.5–2 yuan per parcel, offering higher overall earnings and social insurance benefits. However, these positions were limited, often requiring a waiting period or starting as part-time work.
In 2019, I tried to revisit, only to find that both of the original delivery centres were gone. The franchisee for Center A explained that after the Singles’ Day surge in 2016, they were fined too much and decided to stop deliveries. The franchisee for Center B could not be contacted, and the original site had been turned into a parking lot.
In recent years, whether it’s couriers, food delivery workers, or ride-hailing drivers, labour management systems have become increasingly refined and strict. Unfortunately, this “refinement” has always focused on the detailed management of workers’ labour processes, with their physical actions, language, and even tone being monitored and recorded by the system. However, the complex situations and uncertainties workers face during their labour have never been properly considered or addressed.
Another result of this “refined” management is the significant increase in the number of deliveries per courier. In 2016, official statistics showed that approximately 1 billion packages were delivered nationwide daily; by 2023, this number had risen to 3.6 billion. However, the number of couriers has not increased proportionally. In late 2016, a survey by Beijing Jiaotong University found that there were about 2.3 million couriers nationwide, and in 2022, this number had increased to around 4.5 million. Roughly speaking, the number of deliveries per courier has doubled.
Yet, couriers’ income has not increased in the same proportion. When I spoke with them in 2019, I found that their delivery fees were even lower than in 2016, with each delivery earning only 0.9 or 0.8 yuan. This can also be inferred from job postings; courier recruitment ads in J City often advertise salaries of 8,000 yuan per month, which is likely higher than the actual income. Even if the 8,000 yuan figure was accurate, the growth compared to 2016 is limited.
On the one hand, control by the system has become stricter and more refined, while on the other, the number of deliveries has exploded. The widespread use of parcel collection stations, such as Cainiao post stations and self-pickup lockers, has indeed significantly improved delivery efficiency, but issues like requiring consumers to pick up heavy items still persist.
Looking ahead, I believe that to better address the “last mile” delivery problem, both the “system” and the industry’s development model should be reformed.
To give one example, for heavy items, perishable goods, or deliveries to higher-floor apartments without lifts, I believe an appropriate increase in delivery fees could maximise couriers’ autonomy and make better use of their “human wisdom.” When sending packages, they are charged by weight, so why aren’t couriers paid the same way when they deliver packages?
The more time I spend with couriers, the more I realise how similar we are. I often feel like I could very well be a courier myself in a parallel universe, which is why I sincerely hope for better conditions for them. But I also know that achieving this will require the collective efforts of the entire industry and society.
On a more macro level, the development logic of the industry should also undergo reform, rather than remain stuck in the low-price competitive “quagmire” that has prevailed in recent years. Back in 2016, a franchisee told me that there was a saying in the courier industry: “Whoever doesn’t lower their prices will die; whoever lowers prices first will die first.”
Eight years later, I still believe this saying holds true for the courier industry. How to guide the Chinese courier industry to compete based on service, quality, and safety may be something that regulatory authorities should focus on.
In any case, under the current circumstances, if courier companies strictly enforce the new rules and require each courier to call every recipient, while consumers demand doorstep deliveries, there will undoubtedly be significant difficulties. The result of pushing these rules too aggressively could be that the delivery pressure and responsibility for violations are directly and harshly placed on the couriers who are actually making the deliveries.
If that’s the case, it might be better to leave the problem to the market, allowing consumers to choose the price and service they want, and then select companies accordingly.
内容摘录：追系统的人
Excerpt: The Catcher in the System
Under the system’s strict surveillance, courier workers rely on their social networks within their communities to simultaneously meet the company’s demands for product standardisation and process efficiency while catering to consumers’ need for personalised services. Their connections with franchisees and managers not only internalise corporate management requirements—driving them to invest greater labour—but also limit the managerial authority of franchisees, affording couriers a degree of protection and benefits.
Courier workers are Catchers in the System. The term “catch” represents both the active and passive roles they assume in their labour processes. On the one hand, couriers are “caught” by the system, required to comply with its various demands throughout the delivery process. On the other hand, they are also the ones “catching” the system—actively utilising external social environments. Their social networks and external social factors collectively shape their labour processes, providing them with resources to resist the system’s control and assert a degree of labour autonomy.
Couriers must not only meet delivery deadlines but also fulfil consumers’ expectations for personalised service while adhering to community management policies. Confronted with these overlapping constraints, couriers are not passive in responding to them; rather, they act proactively. They transform existing contradictions into new ones and exploit favourable contradictions to avoid unfavourable ones.
I. The "Gatekeepers" of Recipients
For couriers, security guards, concierges, and receptionists serve as “gatekeepers” when they enter the communities they deliver to. Though these roles may seem minor and go unnoticed in daily life, they represent the first hurdle couriers must overcome in their work. Couriers need to manage their relationships with these “gatekeepers” for several reasons. First, to ensure access to various communities. Modern urban residential areas are often secured with gates and staffed with security personnel to restrict unauthorised entry. As external workers, couriers must obtain permission from security staff or concierges to enter.
On my first day delivering with the couriers, a courier named Zhang Yirui told me, “I have to get along with the security guards in the community. The Mediterranean (a pseudonym) is a high-end neighbourhood—if the guards don’t open the gate, I can’t make my deliveries.”
Another courier, Xie Xiaobao, also shared, “I can’t stress enough how important it is to maintain a good relationship with the security guards and the front desk. If they need to ship a package, I’ll do a delivery or two for free. Later on, when they have more to send, I will only charge them 8 yuan.”
II. Outside the Gates of the World
1. Mutual Assistance Networks and Information Sharing
Since couriers tend to have consistent delivery schedules, they frequently run into couriers from other companies during their routes. Through these daily encounters, they become familiar with one another. Their perception of each other goes like this:
Even though we come from different parts of the country, we share the same job. Even though we don’t know each other’s names, we call each other by our company names. Even though we work for different companies, we often deliver to the same recipients. That difficult customer I dealt with today might be the same one another courier struggled with yesterday. Outside of work, we rarely interact, but on the job, we often gather to swap stories about tricky customers in a certain neighbourhood or chat about a local restaurant’s pretty waitress.
In this way, couriers form a network of “familiar strangers,” and this “strangers’ group” in turn shapes their work experience.
While shadowing Courier Zhang on his delivery route for my participant observation, we were sorting parcels at the entrance of Huayue International when a ZTO Express courier walked over. Zhang casually struck up a conversation with him. After chatting for a bit, the ZTO courier asked if Zhang had any parcels for Building 3 of Huayue International and offered to deliver them. Zhang agreed and, in return, offered to help the ZTO courier with deliveries to the shops on the first floor.
But it’s more than just helping each other with deliveries. As Zhang explained, “Delivery prices are negotiated between couriers from different companies—8 yuan per kilo for packages to Beijing, 12 yuan to Jiangsu, Zhejiang, and Shanghai, and 20 yuan to Guangdong.”
2. Joint Action
When other groups interfere with their work, couriers also band together to resist, ensuring their control over their labour process.
In early November, the property management of Feida Community banned electric mopeds from entering, citing frequent scratches on residents’ cars. Instead, couriers were only allowed to carry bags and use small platform trolleys inside the community. Since Feida Community has over ten buildings, this policy significantly increased couriers’ workload.
To counter this, Courier Wang Ruixing reached out to couriers from other companies, organising a joint delivery pickup point at the community entrance and asking residents to collect their parcels outside the gate.
Later, when I returned to the company canteen, he was on WeChat, messaging couriers from Yunda Express:
Wang: “STO, ZTO, and JD Express couriers are all on board. Just waiting for you. We’ll deliver together at 5 PM at the community entrance.”
Yunda Express courier: “I can’t make it by 5.”
Wang: “Okay, let’s do 4 PM. Let’s all meet then.”
I was confused about why Wang wanted all the couriers to deliver at the same time. “Why do we need to meet?” I asked.
Wang: “It keeps things consistent. If some go in and others don’t, it won’t work. The recipients will start asking, ‘Why can the STO guy get in, but not you?’”
I understood: “Ah, I get it.”
He continued, “If no one is allowed in, then no one goes in. If anyone gets in, everyone should. No special treatment. The security guards are twats—when a delivery vehicle from one company arrives, they let them in but block other companies’ vehicles.”
I asked, “Why?”
Wang: “They’re just passing the buck. This way, the property management has an excuse when residents complain—‘Why can that courier get in but not you?’”
Thus, couriers from all companies agreed to have recipients pick up their parcels at the entrance. Some customers were very frustrated, but couriers shifted the blame to the community property management’s new policy. Then, residents began complaining to the property management as well.
After about a week of deadlock, Feida Community reversed its decision and allowed electric mopeds back in.
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