Economics

Fast Food Chains Cut Hours After Raising Wages to Twenty Dollars

By Dev Sharma · 2026-03-24
Fast Food Chains Cut Hours After Raising Wages to Twenty Dollars
Photo by Van Tien Le on Unsplash

The Automation Price Point

In August 2024, a Burger King franchise group operating more than 50 California locations saw job applications surge 400% compared to the previous year, according to research by UC Santa Cruz Economics Lecturer Stephen Owen. Workers were flooding toward the promise of $20-per-hour wages at fast food chains, a rate well above California's statewide minimum of $16.90. By October 2024, those same coastal Burger King locations had cut shift work by more than 21%, per Owen's study. The workers rushed in. The hours disappeared.

This wasn't a contradiction. It was a mechanism revealing itself in real time. Assembly Bill 1228, which imposed the $20 minimum wage on franchised fast food outlets with 60 or more locations starting in April 2024, didn't eliminate jobs the way opponents predicted. Instead, it revealed the exact price point where replacing humans with machines becomes profitable, and it created a template now spreading across California's economy.

The Measurement Gap

Two academic studies reached opposite conclusions about the same law. A 2024 UC Berkeley study concluded the policy increased average hourly pay by 18% without reducing employment. Owen's UC Santa Cruz study, which examined more than 100 fast food franchise outlets in Santa Cruz and the Central Valley through early 2025, found employees experienced fewer job opportunities, reduced hours, and elimination of overtime. The difference wasn't methodology. It was what they measured and when they stopped looking.

Berkeley counted bodies. Owen's team, which reviewed financial and hiring records for the businesses studied, tracked hours and watched the technology arrive. Order kiosks appeared. Mobile apps proliferated. Drive-through systems changed. Across 18 McDonald's franchise locations in the Central Valley, total labor hours declined nearly 12% from April 2023 to March 2025, according to Owen's research. The headcount Berkeley measured stayed relatively stable, satisfying the political need to declare the policy successful. The actual work available to humans quietly contracted.

Owen's study criticizes the Berkeley research for failing to account for accelerated automation by fast food outlets. This isn't an academic quibble. It's the difference between asking "did people lose jobs?" and asking "what happened to the work?"

The Deal That Changed the Math

The legislation emerged from months of intense political conflict between fast food corporations and service worker unions. The resolution was a trade: the industry agreed to the higher wage in exchange for unions leaving the franchise system unmolested and creation of a commission to oversee wages and working conditions. Both sides got what they wanted. The workers got something else entirely.

The $20 threshold applied only to franchise restaurants with 60 or more locations, exactly the chains with capital to invest in replacement technology. For these corporations, the law didn't present a labor crisis. It presented a capital allocation decision. Pay humans $20 per hour, or invest in kiosks that never call in sick, never request overtime, and never organize. The math shifted. The machines won.

Applications for fast food jobs remained greatly elevated throughout early 2025 compared to 2023 levels, per Owen's research. Workers kept arriving, drawn by wages that looked transformative compared to the statewide minimum. Some Burger King locations partially restored hours by 2025, but labor-hour levels remained reduced from 2023 levels. The bait-and-switch wasn't intentional deception. It was structural inevitability: advertise higher wages, deliver fewer hours, replace humans wherever technology permits.

The Spillover Nobody Planned For

Owen's team conducted in-depth interviews with owners of three independent restaurants in Santa Cruz, establishments not covered by the law because they lacked 60 locations. These owners faced a problem the legislation's architects apparently didn't consider: competitive wage pressure without the capital to automate their way out. Locally owned restaurants not directly affected by the law experienced pressure to raise wages and increase prices due to high labor costs, the study found.

The franchise chains could respond to the $20 mandate by reducing human hours and installing technology. Independent operators had to choose between raising prices, cutting staff, or accepting compressed margins. The law created a two-tier system: large chains with automation budgets, and everyone else scrambling to compete for workers who now knew that $20 per hour existed somewhere in the market.

The Template Replicates

California didn't treat the fast food wage law as an experiment. It treated it as a model. Similar sector-specific minimum wage increases have been implemented statewide for healthcare workers. Los Angeles passed wage requirements for hotel workers. San Diego enacted them for hospitality workers. Each law targets industries with specific characteristics: concentrated employers, significant capital resources, work that can be partially automated or restructured.

The pattern is consistent. Identify a sector where workers have political visibility and employers have balance sheets. Mandate wages above the automation threshold. Watch capital flow toward machines while declaring victory because headcount didn't immediately collapse. The UC Santa Cruz study declares the fast food law created "unintended negative consequences" between government wage policies and economic realities. But calling them unintended suggests surprise. The consequences were structural, predictable from the incentives the law created.

If this approach spreads nationally, the estimated job loss in the United States ranges between 13,900 and 42,100 jobs, according to economic projections. That estimate likely understates the impact by focusing on job elimination rather than hour reduction, the same measurement problem that made Berkeley's study look optimistic. The real number is how much human work disappears, not how many workers lose employment entirely.

What the Machines Reveal

California's $20 fast food wage didn't fail because it raised pay. It revealed something more fundamental about how labor policy functions when automation technology exists and capital can move. Every wage floor creates a ceiling: the price point above which replacing humans becomes profitable. For decades, that ceiling stayed safely above minimum wage levels. Technology was expensive. Human labor was cheap. The math favored people.

That math has changed. Kiosks cost less. Apps cost less. The systems that replace human order-takers and schedulers keep getting cheaper while wages, by policy design, keep rising. California's sector-specific approach accelerates this dynamic by targeting exactly the industries with resources to invest in automation, then setting wages at levels that justify the investment.

The 400% surge in applications at those Burger King franchises in August 2024 tells the story in miniature. Workers saw opportunity. Employers saw a cost structure that made automation investments pencil out. Both were right. The workers who got hired are earning more per hour, exactly as Berkeley measured. They're working fewer hours, exactly as Owen measured. The workers who applied are facing kiosks instead of hiring managers. And independent restaurant owners are caught between wage competition they can't match and automation investments they can't afford.

This is how labor policy becomes technology policy without anyone voting on the technology. Set the price of human work above the cost of machines, and capital flows accordingly. The only question is whether policymakers understand they're making that choice, or whether they'll keep measuring headcount while the hours disappear.