Some see more consequence than benefit in labor unions

I’ve done some neat stuff in my lifetime for a paycheck. One of the things I miss most about my past working life was the three years I spent as a rideshare driver. Thanks to new commitments involving other neat stuff (like my position at this paper,) my rideshare driving days are behind me, but even as I write this, there’s a part of me that wants to hop in my car, log into my Uber account, and collect my first passenger. It was such a great fit for me and my little red car. Someday I’ll share some of those experiences with readers in a future column.

It’s not that Uber driving was a labor of love - I would not have done it without compensation - but it was a labor that I loved; a task I chose specifically because of what its business model could offer me while having no illusions regarding what it couldn’t. Contrary to much of the activist-driven discourse, I never felt exploited. I was pleased with my earnings and felt I had plenty of autonomy. The only threat of exploitation I ever faced was from legislation designed to radically change my working arrangements and push me into joining a labor union.

I make no secret of the fact that I’m not favorable to labor unions. I certainly don’t dismiss the contributions from organized labor beginning over a century ago which transformed the landscape for working people and are celebrated on an annual basis (including tomorrow.) I very much like safe workplaces and overtime pay, and I’m not naïve to the fact workers once faced horrific working conditions and treatment. But the world is a remarkably different place than it was 100 years ago, and to understand some peoples’ distaste for labor unions, one must consider everything from concept to culture in the workplace of today.

The concept behind collective bargaining remains unchanged: Workers with scant individual power combine theirs into one significant force for bargaining. To exercise that power, though, the body of workers must come to a consensus on how it is to be used, and what they hope to gain from it. Many call that “solidarity.” Another word might be “uniformity.” In a diverse workforce, the requirement for that solidarity/uniformity means that some workers are forced to yield their priorities in lieu of those determined for them by the collective.

The John Deere strike from last fall is a perfect example. After rejecting the initial contract offer by over 90 percent, striking workers represented by the United Auto Workers union were much more divided over the second offer in early November, which was rejected by a much smaller majority of 55 percent. The other 45 percent - over 4,500 workers, including clear majorities in several of the UAW locals—had voted to accept that offer, which included 10 percent pay raises, a boost to the original pension plan and an $8,500 signing bonus. But the mandate of solidarity left those 4,500 workers with no choice but to continue striking with the rest while collecting a measly $275 a week in strike pay from the union, unsure at the time when an agreement would ever be reached.

Had any of those workers have attempted to go back to work before the strike was resolved, the picket scene and future workplace could have proved terribly hostile—organized labor can be exceedingly vicious to anyone who crosses a picket line or even simply chooses not to join the union, referring to them as “scabs.” The term “scab” is adopted from a short story by American author Jack London printed in The Atlantic in 1904:

“The will to live of the scab recoils from the menace of broken bones and violent death. With all due respect to the labor leaders, who are not to be blamed for volubly asseverating otherwise, terrorism is a well-defined and eminently successful policy of the labor unions. It has probably won them more strikes than all the rest of the weapons in their arsenal. This terrorism, however, must be clearly understood. It is directed solely against the scab, placing him in such fear for life and limb as to drive him out of the contest.”

Targeting of “scabs” can include posting their names publicly in a way that implicitly invites harassment from union members, as told by a former UAW member who left the union after 30 years out of disgust for the “nepotism and the union’s defense of bad workers” and spoke of his experience in a General Motors plant in Tennessee. “I have had more trouble with the union than with management and after this I will never come back to the UAW,” the worker told the Washington Free Beacon in 2014. "What they do behind the scenes is harass non-members, those who choose not to belong.” The worker had spoken on the condition of anonymity for fear of reprisal. Likewise, every person who has spoken with me about some of their experiences with labor unions refuses to go on the record in order to avoid backlash. It seems like such an ugly paradox: Organizing to engage and empower workers by bullying them into acquiescence.

Retaining those workers in their ranks is crucial to the continuity of labor unions, which is why they favor laws in states like New York, where unions representing a workplace can compel the payment of dues from even non-members; and treat laws protecting non-members from having to pay dues as “union-busting.” Iowa’s right-to-work laws do prohibit labor unions from collecting fees from non-members, yet they are still required to represent those non-members, whom they call “free-riders,” which unions argue is exceedingly unfair.

The unions would be right—if, that is, they did not enjoy status as the unit’s exclusive bargaining representative. But they do, and that exclusivity precludes those non-members from having any other representation, even on behalf of themselves as individuals. Waiving that right of exclusivity could be a way for unions to cut those free-riders loose. But as it would potentially open the door to competition from other bargaining representatives, non-exclusive bargaining is not a solution favored by labor unions, who are furious over reforms made to Iowa’s collective bargaining laws five years ago and remain fervently invested in legislation that reverses those reforms and more.

And they have the means and the motive to keep trying, for with organizing power comes political power. That’s probably what I find most interesting, not to mention unseemly about labor unions: In so many ways, unions mirror the very corporations from whose greed they claim to protect their workers’ rights. They curry favor with politicians by contributing millions in to their campaigns, they flex their operational muscles to advocate for their election, and they collect on those favors in the form of policymaking to protect their business model. For the corporations, it’s tax loopholes and subsidies. For the unions, it’s passing the falsely-named Protecting the Right to Organize Act, which would destroy state right-to-work laws and strip freelancers (such as Uber drivers) of their right to work independently. Big Oil, Big Pharma, and Big Tech, meet Big Labor.

To many, labor unions are the emblem of the collective force of the American worker. To many others, they’re the product of a concept that can be driven in the wrong direction. To all of us, though, our labors themselves are the expression of our talents; the mark we leave on our society. At least we can find some common ground on that.

Comments: 319-398-8266; althea.cole@thegazette.com