Labor & Public Systems

The job for New York City’s transit workers has evolved from managing schedules to navigating a public health crisis. While official reports indicate a drop in major crimes, frontline workers say they continue to be assaulted by passengers experiencing mental illness.

According to NYPD data, subway crime fell 5.4% in 2024, the second consecutive year of decline, as ridership rose to post-pandemic highs. Yet Vital City analysts found that subway assaults have tripled since 2009, with the per-ride violent-crime rate stabilizing above pre-pandemic levels. An MTA report shows that while total assaults against workers declined 31% from 2023 to 2024, 116 assaults were recorded in 2024.

John Wachnicki, a bus driver, said mental-health problems have intensified since the COVID-19 pandemic and that police may need to intervene when individuals become aggressive. Riders described stained seats and places occupied by people who were sleeping or in crisis. Nicky Sunshine, another rider, recounted sexual harassment by a mentally ill passenger that forced her to use pepper spray.

These attacks do not follow one pattern. Assaults on bus drivers often grow out of disputes, such as a confrontation over a route detour. By contrast, attacks on subway workers can be “random” and “totally unprovoked,” union leaders said, pointing to a veteran worker who was stabbed after a passenger refused to leave a train.

Even with reported crime down, TWU Local 100 leaders continue to press for action. “We cannot be superiors and just keep the trains moving,” said Noah L. Rodriguez, a former train operator and the union’s communications director. “So if there’s a disservice, get the police involved.” Union president John V. Chiarello called the problem a public-health issue that the transit system cannot solve alone. One analysis found that, among frequent offenders in 2023, 59% had documented mental-health issues and 65% had a history of homelessness or emotional disturbance.

The city government has acknowledged the issue. Deputy Press Secretary William D. Fowler said the Subway Safety Plan has helped “over 3,500 people who were formerly living on the subway get connected to a low-barrier shelter bed.” The Compassionate Interventions Act also expands clinicians’ authority to bring severely ill people to hospitals for treatment.

Specialized teams of mental-health clinicians and police officers now connect vulnerable people with services. Despite those efforts, TWU Local 100 wants continued coordination with government on subway safety. “We want people to be put in the hospital and then receive the treatment that they need and then come out and hopefully adapt to society, not that they got to live on the ground,” Chiarello said.

Mayoral hopeful Zohran Mamdani champions a citywide fare-free bus system as a response to New York’s affordability crisis. The proposal offers a clear benefit for riders, but it has also created anxiety among bus drivers who fear its potential consequences.

The debate is shaped by a 2023 MTA pilot program that tested fare-free routes. An evaluation found a 40% decrease in physical and verbal assaults on bus operators, who were no longer responsible for fare enforcement. But the pilot also exposed key challenges. A 30% jump in ridership led to slower bus speeds and longer waits at stops. Much of that growth came from existing riders moving to free routes rather than from new riders, and the program coincided with increased fare evasion on nearby paid lines.

For many drivers, a primary concern is financial viability. Bus operator Leonardo Gonzalez wondered how the city would fund the service. The MTA relies on fares to cover about a quarter of its nearly $20 billion annual operating budget. A citywide program could create an annual revenue gap of more than $700 million, according to the MTA’s analysis. Mamdani’s campaign suggested covering the cost through unpaid landlord fines and higher taxes on wealthy residents. “New Yorkers are still going to have to pay,” Gonzalez said, “whether through taxes or fares.”

Drivers are also concerned about safety, particularly overcrowding. Elisé Nerette, an MTA bus operator, said a packed bus can obstruct a driver’s view, especially through the side mirrors. He described a fellow driver’s fatal collision involving a blind spot. While the MTA has a special fare-enforcement unit known as the Eagle Team, some drivers still feel compelled to confront riders who do not pay, putting themselves at risk.

The Transport Workers Union, however, believes the safety benefits outweigh the drawbacks. International president John Samuelsen told City & State New York that the union would “wholeheartedly support any and all of these efforts” to eliminate fares, citing the direct link between fare collection and assaults on staff.

Riders remained largely positive. Morgan Wong said fare-free buses could provide crucial relief from the city’s rising cost of living. “Things just keep going up,” Wong said. “So having some sort of relief would just be so nice for everybody.”

Nerette saw both sides. “It gives a sense of hope to the people,” he said. “But at the same time, you have to help yourself as well. I don’t want to cut myself short, just so I can help somebody that probably don’t even care about me.”

New York City’s streets are the scene of an unexpected conflict. Bus drivers rush to stay on schedule in massive vehicles filled with passengers. Food-delivery workers race against app timers to drop off hot meals. The two groups have become unwitting rivals in a daily and often dangerous fight for space.

The competition affects the 1.1 million New Yorkers who ride the bus. Recent data put city bus speeds at just 8.1 miles per hour. Officials and commuters point to many causes, including the rapid growth of app-based delivery services and an estimated 65,000 couriers working across the city.

The pressure puts bus operators in a difficult position. Elisé Nerette, a Queens bus driver, said delivery riders “sneak into our blind spot and cut in front of us,” making it harder to keep a bus moving safely.

Delivery workers, meanwhile, feel trapped between traffic rules and an app’s demands. “The app is always timing you,” said Fenyi Zhang, an Uber Eats driver. “I have to run red lights and sometimes even get into accidents with other drivers.”

App incentives and time pressure shape how workers make safety decisions. Payment systems push couriers to prioritize speed and efficiency, while penalties and the threat of deactivation add to the pressure, according to Justice for App Workers, a national coalition representing delivery workers.

Many commuters and advocates argue that the two groups are fighting over scraps while the larger problem is New York’s decades-long prioritization of private cars. An analysis by Transportation Alternatives found that nearly 75% of city street space is devoted to moving or storing cars. Buses and delivery workers rely on the same limited curb space: buses need room to pull in and out, while couriers need a place to wait and manage orders.

The Department of Transportation has responded by advancing the NYC Streets Plan, a city law passed in 2019 that requires hundreds of miles of protected bus and bike lanes. The aim is to use street design to reduce conflict and improve safety.

Advocates for both groups support that approach. The Transport Workers Union has long called for automated camera enforcement to keep bus lanes clear. The Worker’s Justice Project, which represents couriers through Los Deliveristas Unidos, is pushing for safer infrastructure. Nerette said the solution must come from “both sides”: the city must create safer space, and delivery companies must change their demands. Their vehicles are different, but their needs lead to the same conclusion—the city must take its streets back from the dominance of the car.

As the federal government shutdown entered its third week, pressure spread through the nation’s airports, where more than 50,000 Transportation Security Administration officers were working without pay.

TSA officers faced a stressful balance: maintaining the professional duty of keeping travelers safe while confronting the personal crisis of a missing paycheck. During the 35-day shutdown in 2018–2019, many TSA workers called in sick, some checkpoints closed, and travelers faced long delays.

“Since the shutdown just started, everyone’s emotions are still okay and people are showing up to work,” said Yuzhu, a TSA worker who asked that her real name not be used for fear of professional repercussions. But cracks were beginning to show. “More people are taking time off, which leads to staffing shortages.”

“If Congress can’t make a deal,” Yuzhu said, “I predict people won’t be able to afford to come back to work.”

Hundreds of thousands of federal workers received reduced paychecks. TSA officers wondered whether they would receive their next paycheck two weeks later. Although they were promised back pay after the shutdown, a missed paycheck was already harming morale. TSA workers earned between $46,000 and $55,000 a year, according to TSACareer.com, leaving many especially vulnerable to even one missed payment.

“How would TSA workers pay the rent, mortgage, food, gas, childcare?” asked Mac Johnson, an executive vice president at AFGE TSA Council 100, the union representing 43,000 TSA officers around the nation.

Unions began using plans developed during the 2018–2019 shutdown. Johnson said union leaders were speaking with TSA management and asking supervisors to recognize the stress employees faced. Their plan included connecting workers with local food banks and even shelters if officers were at risk of eviction.

Victor Payes, fair-practice coordinator at AFGE TSA Council 100, said union leaders were coordinating grassroots assistance while also pressing for legal and political measures. During previous shutdowns, AFGE and other unions challenged mass dismissals of unpaid essential workers. Now, Payes said, they were also pressing Congress and state and local governments for protections.

The shutdown created a clear divide inside airports. Federal employees continued working without pay, while private-sector workers such as flight attendants and baggage handlers still received paychecks. Contract workers—including janitors, wheelchair attendants, and food-service staff—could be furloughed without any promise of back pay, according to Alex Daugherty, communications director of the Transport Workers Union of America.

For the public, the growing crisis was mostly invisible. “The TSA goes smoothly right now; I don’t see any impact,” said Luna Liu, a student traveling through a New York airport.

But the calm was fragile. Less than a week into the shutdown, the control tower at Hollywood Burbank Airport in California went dark overnight, forcing pilots to coordinate landings and causing hours of delays. Major hubs including Boston, Philadelphia, Atlanta, and Houston also felt strain as unpaid air-traffic controllers called out more often.

Daugherty said morale would continue to fall the longer workers went without pay. “If it’s an air-traffic controller, it can affect people’s experience at the airport,” he said. “If it’s TSA agents, lines could become extremely long.”

Union officials also worried about long-term damage to recruitment and retention. “Our bigger concern,” Payes said, “is it makes TSA become a difficult place to retain employees going forward because people will say, ‘This is the experience I have to go through. I’m going to leave for other employment.’”

Yuzhu said there was little the union could do for her in the moment. “The only thing I want is food,” she said.