Delhi autos: a case study of supply and demand

First off, when I say "auto" I'm referring to an auto-rickshaw, a.k.a. tuk-tuk. Got it?

In just the month that I've been here, my daily haggling with the auto drivers had 100% changed the way I think about being ripped off. It used to be that dealing with the auto drivers was the worst part, most stressful part of my day. Now haggling with auto drivers is still the worst, most stressful part of my day, but immensely less stressful than before as I'm no longer worried about getting so ripped off by the drivers during my daily commute, even though I'm paying the same price as before.

Here's why. By law, every auto driver in Delhi has a meter in his auto which he is supposed to put on to price the trip. These meters increase based on distance, not time, so moving from point A to point B, regardless of the traffic should always be the same amount.

Now I've traveled the route from my house to my office multiple times with the meter on, and the cost is about 60-70 rupees. (There is some variation there based on the particular route the auto drivers take, but I don't chastise the ones who take the longer route as Delhi streets are absurdly confusing and I'm generally just happy if they seem to basically know where they're going so I don't have to guide them from googlemaps all the time).

Usually getting an auto from my house to work is no problem. The drivers flip on the meter with minimal reminding, and for the record, I always tip about 20 rupees on top of the meter price to encourage such good behavior. But the trip home is a different matter. Normally the auto drivers will flat out refuse to use the meter and will start with an opening bid of 150 rupees. I can usually bargain them down from that to 100 rupees fairly easily, but any less than that and the auto driver will drive on.

So, in the beginning, this was immensely frustrating to me because I knew that the true price, by the law of the meter, was 60-70 rupees and so these auto drivers were ripping me off to the tune of 50%.(Never mind that 30 rupees is fifty cents--with my daily commute at stake this was a matter of pride, not price). It was also, quite frankly, confusing to me--because if the true price was 60-70 rupees, why would the drivers refuse to take me for 80 or 90 rupees, as they'd still be making additional profit? And because I knew the true price to be 60-70 rupees, I would flat out refuse to get in the auto for the exorbitant sum of 100 rupees and would instead wander around the neighborhood getting angrier and angrier at this monopoly of early-evening auto drivers until finally my fatigue would get the better of my anger and I would give in to the next 100 rupee offer--self-flagellating for my inability to achieve the true price, and convinced that I was being marked as a rich, foreign sucker by the brotherhood of Jangpura (the neighborhood where I work) auto drivers.

But I've changed my mind.

I'm beginning to learn that, other than on packaged food (which is all clearly marked with the maximum a vendor can sell it for), there is no such thing as a true price in India. The markets on the streets of Delhi, in fact, are almost a perfect model of supply and demand economics. In the early evening, when the auto drivers are tired and there is much more traffic and pollution on the roads, the supply of drivers who are willing to take me home is much less than in the morning (when the drivers basically line up outside my colony awaiting customers). Also, my demand to get home, quite frankly, is also much greater than my demand to get to work.

So, that's the way it goes. I'm not being ripped off at night--it's simply that the market has shifted during the course of the day. So, now I get into the first auto that I can bargain down to 100 rupees and pat myself on the back for my phenomenal negotiating skills in once again achieving the true, perfect price.

And today I got into an auto and the driver offered to take me home for only 90 rupees. Sucker!