Sheinbaum Signs Decree to Protect 'App' Workers

Morning conferences! Politicians do love their early risers, don’t they? It’s always the same old affair, with someone standing at a podium, announcing some shiny new plan, some ambitious reform, and making the kind of grandiose promises that only sound plausible before noon. Today, it's Mexico’s President Claudia Sheinbaum doing the rounds with her signature mix of gravitas and, well, more gravitas.

First up, Sheinbaum did what any sensible leader would do these days: addressed the plight of the modern “app worker.” You know, those poor souls who spend their days zooming around delivering burritos to people who can’t be bothered to leave the house. She’s signed a decree to finally give these workers the rights they deserve. Well, sort of.

Apparently, 658,000 people in Mexico are working through digital platforms—think Uber, Rappi, or any other app that lets you summon a human to do your errands at the click of a button. These workers, according to Sheinbaum, have been left out in the cold for far too long, classified as “partners” by the platforms, though without any of the perks like profit-sharing. Partners in name, paupers in practice.

But now, as luck would have it, Sheinbaum’s government is pushing a reform to the Federal Labor Law. It’s all about bringing these workers in from the gig-economy wilderness, offering them a shot at the same rights as your everyday office drone. Health insurance, pensions, sick leave— the works. Whether or not this will actually happen remains to be seen. But hey, it sounds nice on paper, and that’s what counts at conferences, isn’t it?

Then, in a plot twist that no one saw coming, she took a swing at Genaro García Luna. Yes, that’s right—that Genaro García Luna. You might remember him as Mexico’s former Secretary of Public Security, currently facing charges in the United States for allegedly cozying up to drug cartels during his tenure. Sheinbaum was clearly unimpressed with García Luna’s recent attempt to critique her government's judicial reforms from the confines of his legal troubles. “A lot of cynicism, right? The truth. Who is Genaro García Luna?” she asked, with all the rhetorical flair of someone who knows exactly who he is but is enjoying the theatricality of it all.

She’s got a point. When you’re on trial for allegedly shaking hands with the underworld while supposedly waging a war on drugs, you might want to keep your opinions on political reform to yourself. But no, García Luna, never one to shy away from a bit of irony, has decided that his views on Mexico’s judicial reforms should still be heard. Maybe he’s angling for a Nobel Prize in Hypocrisy. Whatever his motives, Sheinbaum isn’t having it, and who can blame her? As she pointed out, he’s got all the moral authority of a fox critiquing the design of a henhouse.

Now, let’s talk about the government’s pet project: Jóvenes Construyendo el Futuro, a program that sounds like something a hopeful intern cooked up after a long session with a thesaurus. This program is designed to help young people, which is always a crowd-pleaser. They’re promising to add another 500,000 beneficiaries to the roster by 2025, which sounds like a lot of kids with bright futures ahead of them—assuming they don’t end up as footnotes in the next conference when the government moves on to the next big thing.

The program’s core idea is to give Mexican youth a leg up by providing them with training and opportunities in various sectors. And to make sure this isn’t just a flash in the pan, they’re talking about embedding it into the constitution, cementing it as a right for future generations. There’s nothing quite like a good constitutional reform to make a Wednesday morning feel momentous.

And now for the pièce de résistance of any modern political event: the Lie Detector. This segment, presumably designed to debunk all the gossip, hearsay, and outright lies floating around the internet, came out guns blazing. The government wanted to clear up a few things for the good people of Mexico.

First off, no, the Senate is not selecting judges, magistrates, and ministers via raffle tickets. It’s not a PTA bake sale, people. Secondly, the government’s reforms do not, I repeat, do not go against the advice of Nobel Prize-winning economists. Let’s be honest, the last thing anyone needs is an economist wagging their finger at them. Then there’s the matter of a financial platform the president allegedly endorsed. Turns out, Sheinbaum hasn’t been moonlighting as an investment influencer. Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’ll have to look elsewhere for hot stock tips.

Oh, and the Royal Palace of Madrid wasn’t draped with a banner reading “nothing to ask forgiveness for.” Because if you’re going to stage a public relations blunder, it might as well be one that makes you look unapologetically smug, right?

And no, the Armed Forces haven’t sent out a white flag from Culiacán. Mexico may have a complex relationship with its cartels, but let’s not get carried away with surrender flags. Lastly, in case you were worried, the Senate isn’t pushing a law that would imprison religious folks for preaching at inconvenient hours. It seems that late-night spiritual awakenings are still safe, for now.

But my personal favorite from the Lie Detector segment? The clarification that the Mayan Train journey from Campeche to Mérida does not, in fact, take eight hours. For those of you clock-watching your travels, rest assured, it’s not that bad. Why anyone would even start such a rumor is beyond me, but this is the world we live in. A world where the truth apparently needs to be dragged kicking and screaming into the light at a morning conference.

And there you have it: Mexico’s political landscape, delivered with a dash of drama, a sprinkle of irony, and more than a few eye-roll-inducing moments. Will anything change? Who knows. But one thing's for sure—there will be plenty more morning conferences to keep us entertained.