Bike Taxis: What Indian States Can Learn From Brazil, Vietnam, And Others

Mitali Sood pulls out her phone at 8:30 AM, opens the Rapido app, and stares at the familiar message: "Service temporarily unavailable in your area."

It has been four months since Karnataka's High Court banned bike taxis in April 2025, and her daily commute from Koramangala to MG Road has become a nightmare she relives twice every day.

What used to be a smooth ₹80, 15-minute ride on the back of a motorcycle now means either squeezing into overcrowded buses that arrive unpredictably or negotiating with auto-rickshaw drivers who quote ₹200 for the same distance, when they agree to go at all.

Traffic has worsened by 18% across Bengaluru since the ban, turning every journey into an endurance test.

Mitali is one of millions caught in the crossfire of a policy war that has nothing to do with public welfare and everything to do with protecting entrenched interests. While she struggles with inflated transport costs, 100,000 bike taxi drivers sit idle, their livelihoods destroyed overnight by a decision driven not by evidence or international best practices, but by the political pressure of auto-rickshaw unions.

With the Motor Vehicle Aggregator Guidelines (MVAG 2025) finally providing legal clarity for bike taxis nationwide, Indian states face a moment of truth. They can choose to learn from global experience and embrace regulated integration, or they can repeat the destructive cycle of bans that serves unions while punishing ordinary citizens.

The choice they make will determine whether India's urban mobility crisis gets better or much worse.

The Indian Pattern of Failure

Karnataka's 2025 bike taxi ban is only the latest chapter in a depressingly familiar story. Across India, states have followed an identical playbook: allow bike taxis when public pressure mounts, then ban them when union protests grow loud enough.

Tamil Nadu pioneered this destructive cycle with particular intensity. The Madras High Court banned Rapido operations across the state in 2019, ruling that two-wheelers in Tamil Nadu are classified only as non-transport vehicles and cannot operate as commercial vehicles like cabs or autos. The ban remained in effect until the Tamil Nadu government could formulate new regulations under the Motor Vehicles Act.

But the story did not end there. In August 2019, a Division Bench of the Madras High Court stayed the earlier ban order, allowing Rapido to resume services. Yet the flip-flops continued into 2024, with a Transport Department circular triggering fresh concerns about confiscation of motorcycles used for passenger transport. This came close on the heels of auto-rickshaw unions across the state protesting against the mushrooming of bike taxis.

The pattern reached absurd levels in December 2024. After hours of uncertainty, Tamil Nadu's Transport Minister SS Sivasankar had to clarify that there would be no ban on bike taxis in the state. Yet the Tamil Nadu Auto Workers' Union, affiliated with CITU, announced protests against the Transport Minister for his comments supporting bike taxis.

Delhi followed a similar pattern of policy whiplash. The city allowed bike taxis in 2016, banned them in 2017, launched pilot programmes in 2019, then banned them again in 2020. Mumbai echoed this cycle of contradictory decisions that created chaos for both drivers and passengers while solving exactly nothing.

Each reversal was accompanied by the same rhetoric about "unauthorised services" and "safety concerns". But the real driving force was always the same: organised pressure from auto-rickshaw unions who saw bike taxis as threats to their monopoly over short-distance urban transport. Auto taxi drivers’ unions consistently argued that the state government should ban all two-wheeler taxis as they affect auto drivers’ livelihoods and pose risks to passengers' safety.

The human cost of this policy whiplash is enormous. Thousands of drivers invest in bikes and training, only to see their livelihoods disappear overnight. Millions of commuters who have experienced affordable, efficient transport are forced back into overcrowded buses and overpriced autos. Traffic worsens as people abandon two-wheelers for four-wheelers, creating the very congestion that bike taxis were helping to solve.

Karnataka's mess, and confusion across states, finally forced the central government's hand. On 1 July 2025, they released MVAG 2025, which clearly allowed bike taxis everywhere in India. Much of the confusion came from gaps in central law. The 2020 guidelines left motorcycle taxis in a grey area, mentioning two-wheelers in passing but nothing about private two-wheelers being used as taxis. States could argue they supported bike taxis but only those with commercial yellow plates, making the service economically unviable.

The new guidelines directly mention "non-transport motorcycles" and push states to allow them. This officially shows the government is okay with private bikes (white plates) that are not registered as transport vehicles carrying passengers to operate as taxis. To handle safety concerns, the guidelines have detailed safety rules that aggregators must follow, including driver training, insurance, background checks, and tech solutions like GPS tracking. These changes give bike taxi companies their first real legal foundation and clear framework to run their business.

Learning from Global Success

While Indian cities chase their tails with endless ban cycles, other developing nations have found ways to make motorcycle taxis work for everyone. Their experiences offer clear roadmaps for integration over elimination.

Vietnam: The Coexistence Model

Ho Chi Minh City never tried to eliminate motorcycle taxis. It evolved with them. The traditional xe om drivers who waited at street corners gradually adapted to app-based services, creating a hybrid system that serves different market segments.

Rather than viewing this as competition between old and new, Vietnamese authorities created a unified regulatory framework that covers both traditional xe om and app-based services. Drivers must register, carry insurance, and meet basic safety standards, but the city does not try to pick winners and losers.

The result is an efficient mobility ecosystem that works especially well in narrow lanes and dense traffic where cars cannot operate effectively. Both traditional drivers and app-based services thrive because they serve complementary rather than competing functions.

Most importantly, the integration did not happen through conflict and bans. It evolved through pragmatic adaptation that recognised motorcycle taxis as legitimate parts of the urban transport landscape.

India's Potential for Coexistence

The Vietnamese model offers a blueprint for Indian cities, where similar market dynamics suggest integration is not only possible but natural. The pattern across failed bike taxi bans reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of urban mobility. Auto-rickshaw unions frame the issue as zero-sum competition: every bike taxi ride represents a lost auto fare.

But urban mobility is not zero-sum. Cities need multiple integrated transport modes that serve different functions and market segments.

Consider the economics. Auto-rickshaws work well for certain types of trips: longer distances, multiple passengers, carrying packages, or routes where comfort matters more than speed. Bike taxis excel in different situations: short distances, single passengers, narrow lane access, or time-sensitive trips where speed trumps comfort.

These services can coexist and even complement each other, just as buses and metros serve different functions within public transport systems. The insistence on treating them as competitors reflects narrow guild thinking rather than broader transport planning.

India's 280+ million two-wheelers represent a massive resource for solving mobility challenges. A report by KPMG talks about how bike taxi aggregators charge ₹8–10 per kilometre, far lower than regular taxis (₹22–25/km) or auto-rickshaws (₹15–18/km). These fares are comparable to shared auto-rickshaws (₹7–8/km) but without the associated challenges of overcrowding, fixed routes, or unpredictable availability.

Beyond affordability, bike taxis offer efficiency and speed that create an ideal value proposition. Bikes manoeuvre easily through traffic due to their nimble form factor, ability to enter narrow lanes, and shorter turning radius, enabling them to reach destinations faster than four-wheelers stuck in the same congestion. Additionally, they have lower operating costs.

Colombia: The Complex Reality of Regulation

Colombia presents a more nuanced picture of motorcycle taxi regulation, with different cities taking varied approaches to what has become a massive mobility phenomenon. Across major Colombian cities Bogotá, Medellín, Bucaramanga, Neiva, Villavicencio, and Cartagena, motorbike taxis have become integral to urban transport systems, providing affordable and efficient travel for millions.

The scale is impressive. A report by The Energy and Resources Institute talks about how in Bucaramanga alone, motorcycle taxis serve about 15% of total travel demand, with 40,000 captive users making almost 125,000 trips daily. What began as a peripheral transport mode gradually became the preferred choice for many travellers, not because public transport was absent, but because it was inadequate.

Despite the presence of Bus Rapid Transit (BRT) systems, bike taxis remain popular primarily due to low frequency of feeder buses. Rather than complementing public transport services, they have become direct competitors with superior service offerings.

The economics are compelling for users. Bike taxi fares are negotiable, and travel times are consistently shorter than BRT feeder services. When public transport fails to provide reliable, frequent service, passengers naturally gravitate toward alternatives that do.

Modern technology has accelerated this trend. App-based platforms like Picap have made motorcycle taxis more accessible and efficient, following the global pattern of ride-hailing disruption. The service quality improvements that come with digital platforms, including GPS tracking, driver ratings, and cashless payments, have made motorcycle taxis more attractive to middle-class users.

But Colombian authorities have struggled with how to respond. The government declared Picap illegal on grounds that motorcycles are not legitimate vehicles for ride-hailing, echoing the same regulatory resistance seen in India and other countries.

However, Colombia's approach offers a crucial lesson that Indian states should note: they did not just ban services, they created alternatives. Recognising that eliminating motorcycle taxis without replacement would strand commuters, Colombian authorities simultaneously launched efforts to increase public transport ridership through innovative solutions.

The most significant innovation is Bucaramanga's Yipi system, a carefully designed alternative that captures the benefits of motorcycle taxis while addressing regulatory concerns. These three-wheeled motorbikes operate as part of an integrated feeding scheme with the formal public transport network, featuring several key improvements over informal motorcycle taxis:

• Fare integration with the BRT system, allowing seamless transfers between modes

• Predetermined zones for operation, ensuring systematic coverage rather than chaotic competition

• GPS tracking for safety, efficiency, and regulatory oversight

• Women drivers prioritised for enhanced passenger security

• Built-in road safety features including mandatory speed limits

This represents the opposite of India's approach. Where Indian cities ban first and worry about alternatives later, Colombian authorities recognised that successful elimination requires successful replacement.

However, the Colombian experience also illustrates the challenges of half-measures. While some cities experiment with integrated solutions like Yipi, the broader regulatory environment remains hostile to motorcycle taxis. The result is a patchwork system where innovation coexists with prohibition, creating uncertainty for both operators and users.

Cities that work with this reality, like Bucaramanga's Yipi experiment, create better outcomes than those that simply try to eliminate services that millions depend upon.

Brazil: When Cities Ban and Federal Governments Innovate

Brazil’s São Paulo offers an experience that mirrors many of the same challenges and policy contradictions that have plagued Indian cities.

The trajectory began with safety concerns escalating into legal action. Following a series of fatal accidents involving motorcycle taxi drivers, a São Paulo state court moved decisively in May 2025 to prohibit services operated through major platforms including Uber Moto and 99. The judicial reasoning centred on violations of existing municipal regulations that had long prohibited motorcycle-based passenger transport services.

The legal battle marked the culmination of a longer conflict that had been building since 2023, when municipal authorities first attempted to restrict platform-based mototáxi operations. The ensuing confrontation saw major ride-hailing companies invoke federal transportation statutes to challenge local restrictions, creating a complex jurisdictional dispute between different levels of government. This dynamic would be strikingly familiar to observers of Karnataka’s bike taxi struggles.

What distinguishes Brazil’s experience, however, is the federal government’s parallel effort to create new regulatory frameworks rather than simply allowing local authorities to battle private companies. The Lula administration has proposed revolutionary changes to how platform-based work is classified and regulated, introducing the concept of trabalhador autônomo de plataforma—essentially creating a new employment category for gig economy participants.

This federal initiative attempts to thread a complex needle: preserving the flexibility that makes platform work attractive while providing social protections that traditional employment offers. Under the proposed framework, platform workers would gain access to minimum wage guarantees, pension contributions, maternity benefits, and working hour limitations, with costs shared between digital platforms and the workers themselves.

Much like the dynamic between the Centre and various state governments in India today, the Brazilian approach reveals the fundamental tension between local prohibition and national innovation. While São Paulo banned services at the municipal level, federal authorities simultaneously worked to create sustainable regulatory frameworks that could accommodate platform-based work within Brazil’s social protection system.

What Indian states need to learn from the Brazilian experience is that eliminating platform-based services without providing economic alternatives essentially punishes workers. Additionally, regulatory uncertainty created by conflicting federal and local policies leaves workers in precarious legal situations while failing to resolve underlying policy questions.

Finally, innovative legal frameworks that recognise the unique characteristics of gig work, such as Brazil’s proposed autonomous platform worker category, offer pathways to sustainable regulation that protects workers while preserving economic flexibility.

This example reinforces a central theme: cities that ban first and think later create chaos, while those that develop comprehensive frameworks create sustainable solutions.

When Bans Backfire: The Lagos Lesson

Lagos, Nigeria, offers a cautionary tale about what happens when governments prioritise elimination over regulation, and the costly lessons of policy reversals.

Commercial motorcycles, known locally as okadas, emerged in Lagos in 1980 when a group of individuals in the Agege local government area began offering motorcycle taxi services. As formal public transport systems declined across the city, the operation spread rapidly to other areas, becoming a vital mobility lifeline for millions of residents.

The appeal was obvious. Okadas offered easy manoeuvrability through Lagos’s notorious traffic jams, could navigate poor roads that buses could not handle, and responded quickly to passenger demand. Most importantly, they provided essential connectivity, serving as access and egress modes that connected peripheral areas to bus stops where formal public transport was still available.

By the 2000s, modern app-based services like Gokada had joined the traditional okada system, creating a hybrid ecosystem that served different market segments. Despite being more expensive than the lowest bus fares, motorcycles were increasingly used even by the poor due to the sheer inadequacy of bus services.

But growth came with problems. Road accidents increased. Traffic management became more complex. Noise pollution and local air pollution worsened. Most concerning for authorities, motorcycles were being used in criminal activities, leading to a 2007 night-time ban between 7 PM and 6 AM, with violations punishable by motorcycle seizure and hefty ₦50,000 ($400) fines.

The immediate impact was severe. With no alternative mobility options available during restricted hours, transport fares tripled as supply contracted. The economic disruption was so significant that authorities were forced to lift the ban, though they restricted bike taxis to arterial and link roads and introduced safety rules prohibiting motorcycles from carrying pregnant women or children.

This early experience should have taught Lagos the dangers of bans without alternatives. Instead, in 2020, the state imposed an even more comprehensive “indefinite and total” ban on okadas, following renewed pressure from bus operators and safety advocates.

The 2020 ban backfired spectacularly. Instead of disappearing, motorcycle taxi services moved underground, operating without safety oversight or regulatory controls that had been gradually improving. Drivers who had been moving toward formal registration suddenly had incentives to avoid government interaction entirely.

Meanwhile, 20 million Lagos residents found themselves with fewer mobility options in a city where formal public transport remained inadequate and traffic congestion made car travel painfully slow. The ban did not redirect passengers to buses or formal taxis. It simply made their lives harder and more expensive, repeating the same pattern from the 2007 experience but on a much larger scale.

Critics now conclude that “banning solves nothing”. Lagos eliminated visible motorcycle taxis without addressing the underlying mobility needs they served or improving the formal transport alternatives. Each ban created worse outcomes for everyone except the organised interests that lobbied for prohibition.

The Lagos experience demonstrates a crucial truth that Indian states must internalise: bans work only when they are accompanied by adequate alternatives that serve the same populations at comparable cost and convenience. Elimination without replacement inevitably fails, often multiple times, creating a cycle of policy reversals that serves no one’s interests.

The Stakes for India

MVAG 2025 has created a unique opportunity for Indian states to break free from the destructive ban cycle and embrace evidence-based transport policy. The legal framework is in place. International examples provide clear guidance. The only missing ingredient is political will to resist union pressure and prioritise public welfare.

The benefits of getting this right are enormous. Bike taxis offer an immediately scalable solution to urban mobility challenges without requiring massive capital investment. Unlike metro systems that take decades to build or bus rapid transit that requires dedicated infrastructure, bike taxi networks can expand rapidly using existing road capacity and vehicle ownership.

The benefits extend beyond convenience. Reduced congestion benefits everyone who uses urban roads. Lower transport costs help middle-class families manage household budgets. Employment opportunities serve the millions of Indians who own two-wheelers but struggle to find steady income. Last-mile connectivity helps other transport modes work more effectively.

These benefits are available now, not after years of planning and construction. The technology works. The demand exists. The vehicles are already on the road. The only barrier is political resistance to organised pressure.

States that embrace regulated integration will create competitive advantages for their cities. They will attract businesses and residents who value efficient transport. They will reduce the transport costs that affect everything from labour mobility to goods distribution. They will demonstrate that evidence-based policy can triumph over interest group politics.

States that succumb to union pressure will remain trapped in the failed ban cycle, watching their cities choke on traffic while solutions sit idle.

The Choice Before States

As Indian states consider their response to MVAG 2025, they face a clear choice between two proven models. They can follow Vietnam’s path of pragmatic integration, creating regulated systems that serve public welfare while addressing legitimate safety and competition concerns. Or they can repeat Lagos’s mistakes, prioritising organised pressure over broader public interest and creating worse outcomes for everyone.

The middle class is watching. Every commuter stuck in worsening traffic understands the stakes. Every family paying inflated transport costs knows the price of policy failures driven by union pressure rather than public welfare.

MVAG 2025 provides the legal foundation for bike taxi integration. International experience offers clear guidance on what works and what fails. The benefits of getting this right—reduced congestion, lower fares, increased employment, better connectivity—are immediate and substantial.

Political will is the only missing piece. States must decide whether they will cave to organised pressure or embrace policies that serve the broader public interest. They must choose between the failed ban cycles that have characterised Indian transport policy or the successful integration models that other developing nations have pioneered.

The bike taxis are ready. The apps are waiting. The commuters are watching. The choice is entirely up to India’s states, and the consequences will be felt by millions of urban residents for years to come. The question is whether political leaders have the courage to let it move forward.