Today being Labor Day, I’m expressing my gratitude for the
benefits that organized labor has brought to the workplace. Yes, I’m talking
labor unions. Without them, there’d be a whole lot more miserable employment
conditions than exist even now.
There are basically only two reasons why you and I at this moment may
not be working in sweatshops with dangerous electrical wiring,
hot and cold running vermin and no toilets—unions and
litigation. (I would also have added “80-hour weeks” as one of the
not-any-mores, but that’s pretty much so last century.)
Business management in companies both large and small do
not provide more or less sanitary and safe conditions,
ventilation and some standard of minimum wage out
of the goodness of their hearts. They do it because over the past 150
years unions have fought with blood and treasure for the concept that
labor is part of the value-add of both products and services,
and because they’re terrified that if they screw up and get
sued, juries will strip their corporate assets in punitive damages
like a plague of locusts ranging across Iowa.
I’m not saying that unions haven’t become part of the problem
along the way—many of them are every bit as
bloated and arrogant and greedy as corporate
boards, and in fact these days you’d often have
trouble distinguishing one stance from the other across the negotiating
table. And I’m also not saying that America’s propensity toward litigiousness
doesn’t suck up resources, like some cosmic Jarndyce v. Jarndyce, that couldn’t
have been better spent on something like, oh, curing cancer.
But it takes the kind of jackhammer represented by Big
Labor and Big Lawsuits to get the attention of the heirs of the Triangle
Shirtwaist Company. If you doubt this, I refer you to the history of the
textile industry in America: the corporations first moved their factories from
states with unions to the South (God bless those right-to-work state
legislators), and then—when even minimum wage became too much
for them—to Mexico, Bangladesh, China and other countries where
there’s no concern about pesky things like sweatshop conditions, unsafe and
unsanitary factory buildings or child labor.
And it’s not limited to schmattas, either. Twenty years ago during
my sojourn in the great, cough, state of North Carolina (which is probably
still electing Jesse Helms to the US Senate, corpse though he be), there was
a fire
in a chicken processing plant that killed 25
workers and injured 54 others. Exit doors from the factory floor had
been locked, trapping the men and women in the inferno. Exactly like
the Triangle Shirtwaist factory in 1911.
I’m not going to talk about the wages paid or the conditions in
the factory, but the plant had never suffered a single safety inspection in its
11 years of operation, so the managers weren’t troubled by having to fork out
for any, you know, protections. North Carolina is a right-to-work state, and it
don’t hold with no unions. Or no worker protections.
(BTW, North Carolina’s minimum wage is $7.25 per hour which is the
federal base, the lowest you can pay and still be in the United States. But the
interest the legislature lacks in providing basic standards of life for its
citizenry is more than made up for by its zeal in passing Byzantine voter ID
laws that are specifically intended to keep much of that citizenry from voting.
That’s just the way those old tobacco-empire heirs roll.)
Let me also bring to your attention the decades of work by César
Chávez and
the United Farm Workers to bring decent wages, as well as
working and living conditions, to the men, women and children who tend and
harvest the food we eat. I know that I personally find it easier to swallow
fruits and vegetables when I know they aren't the product of
slavery-in-all-but-name.
Labor Day was made a national holiday in 1894, in the wake of the
Pullman strike, which ended after President Grover Cleveland sent in federal
troops to suppress the strikers. As a sop to thousands of workers who’d lost
their jobs and their homes, Cleveland created a national holiday to “recognize”
labor.
I find that a monumental act of condescension—declaring a holiday
"for the workers", kind of like Flag Day, without any meaning behind
it. It wasn’t even a paid holiday. And it was set for September to distinguish
it from the international socialist/communist Labor Day of 1 May. But it played
well with Cleveland’s corporate constituents.
So it’s incumbent upon us, in times where enormous inroads have
been made in the gains unions won for us (I laugh at the notion of a 40-hour
week, because no tech employer for the past 15 years has expected anything less
than 60 hours per week from its salaried staff), to consider where we’d be if
they hadn’t existed.
It’s nowhere I’d care to be, I assure you. So I am grateful today
for the battles that labor unions fought. They didn’t always win, but they did
move us forward.
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