
Uber has built its brand on promises of rider safety, frequently highlighting its background checks as a safeguard against violent crime. Yet, beneath these assurances, a troubling reality emerges—one most recently brought to light by a New York Times investigation. New York Times’ Article.
Uber’s drive for profit has repeatedly overshadowed its commitment to passenger safety, exposing riders to risks that could have been prevented.
The company’s background check system is designed for speed and cost-efficiency, often approving drivers with serious criminal histories—including violent felonies. While Uber claims to reject applicants convicted of murder, sexual assault, kidnapping, and terrorism, it has allowed drivers with convictions for child abuse, assault, and stalking, provided those offenses are at least seven years old. In 35 states, background checks only cover the past seven years of residence, meaning crimes committed elsewhere can go undetected.
California law is clear: the California Code of Public Utilities (CCPUC) §5445.2(a)(1) requires that every transportation network company (TNC) conduct both local and national criminal background checks for each driver. Furthermore, CCPUC §5445.2(2)(B)(i)-(ii) prohibits TNCs from contracting with, employing, or retaining drivers convicted of violent felonies as defined in Section 667.5 of the Penal Code—without any time limitations.
Despite these legal requirements, internal documents reviewed by the New York Times reveal that Uber executives repeatedly chose not to expand the list of disqualifying offenses or deepen the scope of background checks, fully aware of the risks. “We are definitely not doing everything we can,” admitted Uber’s then-head of safety communications in a 2018 email. More thorough checks were considered, but ultimately rejected due to cost concerns—they would have added millions to expenses and slowed driver onboarding.
The consequences have been severe. Across the country, passengers have accused Uber drivers—some with histories of assault, child abuse, and armed robbery—of sexual violence. In one particularly disturbing case, a San Diego woman with epilepsy was attacked by a driver whose record included violent felonies that should have disqualified him under California law. Uber’s screening missed the classification, and the driver was only blocked after the assault occurred.
Uber’s approach was not a matter of ignorance, but of strategy. In 2015, executives sought to “shift the conversation about safety from background checks to [less costly] initiatives,” polling riders to gauge their tolerance for risk and partnering with criminal justice reform groups to lobby against stricter laws. The company successfully fought regulations that would have required fingerprinting and more rigorous vetting, arguing such measures were discriminatory and inefficient.
Even as lawsuits mounted and survivors spoke out, Uber maintained that its system “strikes the right balance between protecting public safety and giving people with older criminal records a chance to work.” However, public safety experts and prosecutors argue that Uber’s standards fall far short, especially given the vulnerability of passengers—often alone, intoxicated, or asleep in a stranger’s car.
In our legal practice, we have handled multiple cases against Uber and have grown increasingly concerned about the gap between Uber’s public commitment to safety and its actual business practices. We have seen repeated instances where Uber missed, either intentionally, or through lack of reasonable care, serious offenses that should have disqualified the individual from driving for Uber. As a result, our firm now routinely conducts comprehensive background checks on every Uber driver involved in our cases.
Uber’s story serves as a cautionary tale: when a company prioritizes growth and profit over safety, the public bears the cost. The ride-hailing giant’s billion-dollar success has come at a staggering human price—measured not just in dollars, but in shattered lives and broken trust