Making Plans

In Stormy Seas: Green Party co-leader, Russel Norman addresses the EPMU's "Jobs Crisis Summit" on Friday, 12 October 2012. The joint decision of NZ First, the Greens and Labour to hold a parliamentary inquiry into the condition of the manufacturing sector was one of the few hopeful outcomes of the union-organised gathering.

THEY CAME TOGETHER in an atmosphere of near panic. Factories were closing their gates and thousands of laid-off workers were joining the ranks of the unemployed.  In the face of global financial catastrophe the political party ostensibly devoted to protecting the interests of working people was in the grip of a peculiar immobilism – unable or unwilling to take resolute action.

 

A special “Crisis Congress” was convened by the largest of the country’s trade unions to debate a recovery plan devised by three of the labour movement’s leading economists. Entitled “Restructuring the Economy” it called for direct and massive government intervention to mobilise idle resources and get the nation back to work.

 

To the utter dismay of the trade unions the leading economic spokesperson of the largest left-wing party refused to back the plan.

 

A few months later that same party suffered a crushing electoral defeat.

 

This could be a description of recent political developments in just about any country of the developed world. But the story isn’t recent. It happened over eighty years ago in Weimar Germany. The metalworkers’ union’s “Crisis Congress”, at which its radical restructuring plan was presented, took  place in April 1931. Two years later Adolf Hitler’s National-Socialists were in power. By 1938 the Nazi’s own (very similar) programme of “massive government intervention” had practically eliminated unemployment and confirmed Hitler as Germany’s saviour.
 

 

LAST FRIDAY, Trevor Bolderson, a coal-miner from the West Coast, rose to his feet and asked: “What are you going to do for my little town of Greymouth?” His question was directed at Winston Peters from NZ First, Russel Norman from The Greens and Labour’s finance spokesperson, David Parker. The venue was the “Jobs Crisis Summit” organised by Mr Bolderson’s trade union, the Engineering Printing and Manufacturing Union (EPMU). Like the German workers of eighty years ago, he too was looking for salvation.

 

All he got were evasions and promises.

 

The assembled politicians would only tell him what he and his workmates already knew. That the lay-offs of Solid Energy’s administrative and mining employees must be understood in the context of the Government’s plans to partially privatise the state-owned energy sector.

 

No one was willing to give Mr Bolderson an unequivocal commitment to re-opening the Spring Creek Mine. No one spoke of state ownership offering employees and their unions a greater role in managing New Zealand’s energy resources. No one denounced the madness of mothballing a highly productive coal mine and laying-off its highly skilled workers when international demand for its top-grade product is certain to recover as China’s stock-piles dwindle.

 

That the Greens might be wary of promoting coal-mining is understandable (although someone should ask them if they’re also happy to do without the high-grade steel Spring Creek’s coal makes possible). NZ First could also be forgiven for not being the loudest promoter of state-ownership. But Labour, the party to which Mr Bolderson’s EPMU is affiliated, should have been able to offer something more hopeful than Mr Parker’s declaration that he “could not promise that every mine could be kept open”.

 

Returning to the West Coast, Mr Bolderson will be able to tell his EPMU brothers and sisters that the three parties represented at the Jobs Crisis Summit have undertaken to conduct a parliamentary inquiry into the manufacturing sector’s problems.

 

“The crisis in manufacturing is hammering communities from South Auckland to Bluff, from Kawerau to Greymouth”, Labour’s leader, David Shearer, stated in a media release distributed after the Summit. “The future of our country depends on a modern manufacturing sector that creates better jobs and higher wages to keep Kiwis in New Zealand.” This could only be achieved, he suggested, if political parties worked together.

 

Certainly, the sight of the leaders of the three major Opposition parties all lined up behind the same table is a hopeful sign for New Zealand’s beleaguered working- and middle-class voters. Mr Bolderson, along with the men and women who used to do the forty thousand jobs that the manufacturing sector has shed since 2008, can only benefit from more political co-operation among the National-led Governments’ opponents.

 

Not so hopeful, however, are the extraordinarily modest demands being advanced by the EPMU. The Union’s national secretary, Bill Newson, listed these as: action to bring down the high New Zealand dollar; a government procurement policy which favours domestic producers; and direct Government support for manufacturing enterprises facing imminent down-sizing or closure. As an experienced union negotiator, Mr Newson must know that modest demands elicit modest responses.

 

If New Zealand’s labour movement is to fare better than its German counterpart of eighty years ago, then not only must it formulate an equally radical plan for “massive state intervention” and democratic restructuring of our economy, but also ensure that Labour, the peoples party, commits itself, body and soul, to making it happen.

 

This essay was originally published in The Press of Tuesday, 16 October 2012.

Out of the Line of Sight (Some Questions For Pike River Coal)

Reluctant Witness: In every thriller there's always someone who doesn't want the detective to see what lies just beyond his line of sight. Why is Pike River Coal sending its lawyers to sit in on the Department of Labour's interviews with its employees?

IN JUST ABOUT every movie thriller there’s a blocking scene. Some thing or some body which gets in the way of the hero’s investigation.

You know the sort of incident I’m talking about.

At the door to the key witness’s apartment, the detective’s confronted by someone who very obviously doesn’t want to let him in. When he gives the witness’s name, the doorkeeper shakes his head:

"Sorry, buddy, never heard of her."

But the detective (and, of course, the audience) can tell he’s prevaricating. There’s something "off" about the guy’s entire behaviour. His gaze keeps shifting to something standing just out of the detective’s line of sight. When the hero attempts to get a better view of the apartment, the doorkeeper becomes even more agitated:

"I told you – she’s not here!"

The door slams in the detective’s face.

　
NOW, THE PIKE RIVER mine disaster isn’t a movie thriller – it’s a real-life human tragedy. But, it’s also a mystery. So, I’m wondering – am I the only person in New Zealand who’s asking himself whether Pike River Coal knows something we don’t?

And, if they don’t, then I’ve got to ask its top guys another question: Why is the Company insisting that its lawyers sit in on the interviews Department of Labour officials are conducting with mine workers?

The Company says it’s only concerned about safeguarding its employees’ – the mine workers’ – rights. But, if that’s the case, then wouldn’t they be talking to their union representatives? After all, that’s what the union’s there for – to protect the rights of its members.

And, in the case of Pike River Coal, that protection is provided by one of the country’s largest and best resourced trade unions – the Engineering, Printing and Manufacturing Union (EPMU) led by Andrew Little.

If Pike River Coal was only interested in making sure that the rights of its employees were being safeguarded, then wouldn’t the presence of the EPMU have reassured them that all was well?

So, why didn’t the involvement of the EPMU reassure Pike River Coal at all? What made it so touchy? Why, when Mr Little and his officials questioned the propriety of the Company’s lawyers being present at what are, in essence, evidence-gathering interviews by the Department of Labour, did everything become so heated?

Think back to those movie thrillers.

When the prime suspect is being questioned by the Police it’s quite usual for him to have his lawyer present. Legal representation ensures that the suspect is not pressured into saying something that may later be used against him in court, should the matter ever come to trial. Suspects (especially in American thrillers) enjoy full constitutional protection against self-incrimination.

But have you ever seen a thriller where the suspect’s lawyer sits in on witness interviews? Just imagine how intimidating that would be. The detectives are asking an eye-witness to a shooting if he can identify the gunman – and the prime suspect’s lawyer is sitting there taking notes! How much co-operation do you think the Police’s key witnesses are going to provide under those conditions?

Pike River Coal is also, unbelievably, demanding that the Department of Labour inquiry team hand over any audio or video recordings they have already made, or make in the future, of evidence-gathering interviews with Company employees and/or sub-contractors.

I fervently hope that the Department’s officials to do not comply with Pike River Coal’s demand. Like the Company’s insistence that its lawyers be present during the gathering of evidence, it runs the risk of sowing very worrying seeds of doubt in the public’s mind as to whether the Department of Labour’s statutory inquiry into the Pike River mining disaster is being undertaken "without fear or favour".

Charging in with lawyers like this isn’t the only aspect of Pike River Coal’s behaviour which has struck a number of observers as being a little "off".

What, for example, lay behind its decision to hold on to the CCTV record of the original explosion for so long? Was no one monitoring the live feed from the mine’s mouth? Had someone been physically present outside the mine’s entrance to see and feel the blast, how long would it have taken to raise the alarm and activate the rescue procedures?

And why, if Pike River Coal is genuine about putting the interests of its employees first, did the Company not insist that union representatives be seated among the dignitaries at last week’s memorial service? The West Coast has long been a bastion of trade unionism in New Zealand. Am I the only one who found it strange that the 29 miners’ union and the CTU weren’t allowed to speak at their funeral?

Was somebody frightened of what they might say?

Is there something – just out of their line of sight – that someone is desperate the detectives don’t see?

This essay was originally published in The Press of Tuesday, 7 December 2010.

Labour: Political Party or Cosy Club?

National Secretary of the EPMU - and now Labour Party President - Andrew Little.

IS Labour still a political party or has it become some sort of cosy club for parliamentary aspirants? I only ask because the announcement earlier this week that the positions of party president and vice-president had both been filled unopposed (thereby relieving the organisation of that grubby and disruptive business known as a contested election) gave me pause to wonder.

And that absence of competition; that pervading sense of some back-room deal having being done; has delivered a Labour president who’s about as exciting as a wet week in August.

Because the lugubrious Andrew Little doesn’t really come across as one of the downtrodden and dispossessed’s most inspiring champions. But, perhaps that doesn’t matter. Of more importance in these cash-strapped times may be the fact that Andrew is well liked by the business community.

Which, on the face of it, is a bit strange, because, in addition to being Labour’s new president, Andrew is also the National Secretary of the Engineering, Printing and Manufacturing Union (EPMU).

Call me old fashioned, but a union leader who receives loud plaudits from the business community makes me nervous.

Either they’re being really good sports; as in: "By God that Andrew Little’s a tough negotiator, isn’t he? We were determined to limit our pay offer to the rate of inflation, but somehow he screwed a ten percent increase out of us. I tell you, that guy makes Matt McCarten look like a big fluffy pussycat!"

Or, they’re doing their best to hold onto the good thing they’ve got; as in: "I can’t believe we got away with it - again! I was positive that this year the EPMU would be demanding at least a ten percent wage rise. But, no, they settled for their usual cost-of-living adjustment. I can’t begin to tell you what a positive influence Andrew Little has had on the company’s bottom line. Seriously, the guy’s worth his weight in gold!"

"Militant union swashbuckler", or "responsible partner in the quest for improved productivity"? Hmmm? I’m pretty sure Andrew’s not a swashbuckler.

And that, unfortunately, is the problem.

Labour, defeated at the polls and denuded of funds, is in desperate need of a swashbuckler – someone to breathe not only life, but passion and enthusiasm into a movement at serious risk of imploding under the weight of its own extraordinary timidity.

Just consider the sequence of crucial leadership changes in the Labour Party since the General Election. There have been no elections, no contests, no debates – just a series of "orderly transitions".

It would seem that power is no longer won in the New Zealand Labour Party, it is bestowed – for good behaviour. Providing you’re willing to keep your nose clean, follow the rules, never rock the boat, and wait patiently until it’s your turn: power will come to you on a plate.

Contrast this democracy-free-zone with the fervent, fractious – but indisputably living thing that Labour used to be. A party in which hundreds of registered delegates could metaphorically slug it out on the floor of their annual conference to decide whether Jim Anderton or Ruth Dyson would lead them into the 1990 election.

That Labour Party was alive with ideas, and roiling with policies as vociferously challenged as they were passionately defended. A party whose members, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, still believed they could make a difference.

Sadly, that party no longer exists.

So, when people ask: "Do you think Phil Goff is the right person to lead Labour?", I always reply: "No. But, at the moment, nobody else is either."

I’d probably say the same of Andrew Little if required to comment on the Labour presidency.

It’s a grim admission: made even grimmer by the probability that in New Zealand’s prime political market of Auckland – home to 1.3 million people – Labour can boast fewer than 2,000 paid-up party members.

That’s the challenge Andrew Little must face, but frankly, I think Davey Hughes, the extraordinarily charismatic boss of Swazi Apparel, would stand a better chance of rebuilding Labour’s grass roots support than the boss of the EPMU.

On the bright side, however, if Andrew Little manages Labour’s recovery in the same sober fashion as he’s managed New Zealand’s largest private sector union, I think it’s safe to say that his popularity among the nation’s capitalists will remain undiminished.

This essay was originally published in The Timaru Herald, The Taranaki Daily News, The Otago Daily Times and The Greymouth Evening Star of Friday, 6th March 2009.