The Sharing Economy in Practice: Why Some Models Scale, and Others Fail

Over the past decade, consumers have been promised a fundamental shift in how they live and consume: that ownership would give way to access, and that sharing would replace buying. The logic felt intuitive. After all, most of us grow up hearing that “sharing is caring,” so why wouldn’t that principle scale to the global economy? Enabled by digital platforms, the sharing economy emerged with the promise of lower costs for users, new income streams for sellers, and a more efficient use of underutilised assets. From holidays to clothing, offices to cars, entire industries began experimenting with models designed to connect people seamlessly for mutual benefit. Yet more than ten years on, the reality of this transformation looks far more uneven than early advocates anticipated

Hospitality: When sharing became mainstream

Few companies illustrate the potential of the sharing economy more clearly than Airbnb. What began in 2008 as two founders renting out air mattresses during a design conference has grown into one of the world’s most influential travel platforms. By 2024, more than 490 million nights and experiences were booked globally, emphasizing both its scale and staying power. Its success lies in creating a marketplace that could expand rapidly without the heavy capital investment required by traditional hotels, while simultaneously unlocking spare capacity in people’s homes. The platform’s value became even more apparent during the COVID-19 pandemic, when travellers grew wary of communal spaces. While hotels still involved shared lobbies, lifts, and dining areas, Airbnb offered entire homes, contactless check-in, and a sense of personal control over one’s environment. This shift in preferences helped fuel a surge in longer stays and domestic travel, reinforcing Airbnb’s position as a mainstream alternative to traditional accommodation 

Fashion: Combining affordability with sustainability

Fashion provides another compelling case study, though in a different form. Here, sharing has taken root primarily through resale and rental. Platforms such as Vinted have transformed second-hand clothing into a mass-market activity. By 2025, Vinted had grown to more than 105 million registered users globally, reflecting both changing consumer attitudes and economic necessity. During the cost-of-living pressures of the early 2020s, many shoppers actively sought ways to reduce spending without sacrificing the excitement of acquiring “new” items. The concept of “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” being the driving force behind this success. Resale breathes new life into unused wardrobes while helping to address fashion’s environmental footprint, an industry responsible for a significant share of global emissions. Alongside this, rental platforms have allowed consumers to access designer pieces for a fraction of their retail price. Together, these models show how sharing can align affordability, convenience, and sustainability, particularly in sectors where novelty and variety are valued more than permanent ownership.

Mobility and Car Sharing: A mixed story

However, the automotive sector tells a different story. For more than a decade, car sharing has been promoted as a solution to urban congestion and private vehicle dependence, offering short-term access to cars with insurance, fuel, and maintenance bundled into a single fee. While the model promises fewer vehicles on the road and environmental benefits, outcomes have varied sharply by geography.

In the UK, Zipcar stood as the largest car-sharing operator, embedded in city planning and even used to justify car-free housing developments. Yet by the end of 2025, Zipcar ceased operations nationwide, leaving residents and community organisations scrambling for alternatives.

Elsewhere, car sharing has followed a vastly different trajectory. Germany has become Europe’s largest car-sharing market, with more than five million registered users by 2024, driven by dense urban living, high parking costs, and policies that actively discourage private car use. Switzerland’s national ‘Mobility Carsharing’ scheme thrives by complementing an excellent public transport network, while in Tokyo, strict parking regulations and high ownership costs make car sharing a practical option. Across these examples, a consistent pattern emerges; car sharing succeeds where private ownership is inconvenient, public transport is reliable, and cars are viewed as utilities rather than status symbols. Where these conditions do not exist, as in much of the UK, car sharing struggles to move beyond early adopters.

Conclusion: Sharing is not a one-size fits all

Taken together, these examples paint a nuanced picture of the sharing economy. It has not delivered a universal shift away from ownership, nor has it failed outright. Instead, its impact has been highly sector and context specific. In hospitality and fashion, sharing has created billion-pound markets and meaningfully altered behaviour. In mobility, success depends far less on apps and algorithms and far more on urban design, public policy, and cultural habits.

Ultimately, the sharing economy is not a silver bullet for sustainability or affordability. It represents a powerful reframing of how value is created, shifting focus from possession to access and from idle assets to active use. The lesson for researchers and policymakers alike is that sharing is not simply a business model; it is an ecosystem. Where conditions are right, it can reshape industries. Where they are not, even the most elegant platforms will struggle. In that sense, the real promise of the sharing economy lies not in replacing ownership altogether, but in teaching us when, where, and why access can sometimes matter more than possession.