The Alberta Union of Provincial Employees (AUPE) periodically publishes a magazine (Direct Impact). The fall 2021 issue (not yet online at the time of writing) reports the results of a survey of its members about the impact of COVID.
The survey is fascinating, documenting income losses by two-thirds of members, with the losses being highly racialized. More than a quarter of member households experienced a layoff and almost half (49%) cut back on food purchases. An interesting question was what measures would help AUPE members cope with the financial hardships caused by COVID. I've nicked the graphic (sorry Guy!) and present it below:
Keep in mind that these results represent the view of unionized workers in AUPE who responded to the survey (I don't see a note about response rates). This means we should be cautious about its findings and especially of generalizing to other populations.
The pearl-clutching aside, what is most striking is that workers overwhelming identify price controls as what would help them most. Many of the COVID demands popularized by the broader labour movement (e.g., paid sick leave, presumptive WCB, childcare subsidies) received much less support.
Further, demanding government intervention in the market (which neoliberalism suggests is anathema, unless it benefits the wealthy) is a surprisingly bold position for such a large portion of the respondents to stake out. Perhaps the pressure COVID is create and how it has pulled back the curtain on class-disparities is starting to more clearly inform rank-and-file views on union priorities?
Earlier this spring, I watched a mini-series on Netflix called The English Game. The story is set mainly in northern England in 1879 and (loosely) follows the first British working-class soccer team to win the FA Cup. Previously, the game was mostly the preserve of upper-class amateurs. Factory Owner James Walsh breaks the rules by hiring two Scottish ringers to play for his Darwen team and mayhem ensues.
The storyline is interesting because it foregrounds class differences, conflict and blindness. The organization that controls the FA Cup is very upper crust and is largely (and perhaps intentionally) blind to the advantages that the rules grant to those who are wealthy (mostly leisure time).
The factory owners (many of whom also run soccer teams on the side) are a mixed bag and continually grind the wages of the factory workers. This leads to a strike and violence (which is quickly repressed by the police and judiciary). The social services available for “fallen” women was also starkly depicted.
Soccer is presented as one of the few positive things in the lives of factory workers. The notion of soccer as bridging the class divide (without in any way upsetting it) was a bit heavy handed and galling. This gets papered over a bit with a story of the moral redemption of (eventual soccer big wheel) Arthur Kinnaird.
While period dramas are not my thing, this was an interesting (and short!) foray into the lives of upper- and lower-class people during the industrial revolution.
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “Rain on the Scarecrow” by John Cougar. I recently watched a really off-putting documentary on John Mellencamp on Netflix (Plain Spoken) and this was one of the songs that played in the background.
It is written from the perspective of a farmer about to lose the family farm due to mounting debt and the cost-price squeeze. Overall, a pretty haunting song about farming as we head into the harvest season.
Scarecrow on a wooden cross blackbird in the barn Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm I grew up like my daddy did my grandpa cleared this land When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow This land fed a nation this land made me proud And son I'm just sorry there’s no legacy for you now Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
The crops we grew last summer weren't enough to pay the loans Couldn't buy the seed to plant this spring and the farmers bank foreclosed Called my old friend schepman up to auction off the land He said john its just my job and I hope you understand Hey calling it your job ol hoss sure dont make it right But if you want me to Ill say a prayer for your soul tonight
And grandmas on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand Sometimes I hear her singing take me to the promised land When you take away a mans dignity he cant work his fields and cows There'll be blood on the scarecrow blood on the plow Blood on the scarecrow blood on the plow
Well there's ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name and some nights I feel like dying like that scarecrow in the rain
Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow This land fed a nation this land made me so proud And son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow Rain on the scarecrow blood on the plow
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture looks at “Death to my Hometown” by Bruce Springsteen. This Celtic-infused (and very angry) song was part of Springsteen’s 2012 album Wrecking Ball, which examined the impact of the 2008 recession on Americans.
The song's premise is that economic mis-management is a form of violence, with effects analogous to war. He particularly notes that the impersonal nature of the economic system means that it is hard to identify and punish those responsible for economic crimes:
Send the robber barons straight to hell The greedy thieves who came around And ate the flesh of everything they found Whose crimes have gone unpunished now Who walk the streets as free men now
Protest songs like this one do a nice job of capturing frustration and giving it voice. What this song lacks any sort of call to action (excepting the vague “be ready when they come” and "send them straight to hell") that would change the underlying political economy that allowed this economic violence to be perpetrated on the working class.
Well, no cannon ball did fly, no rifles cut us down No bombs fell from the sky, no blood soaked the ground No powder flash blinded the eye No deathly thunder sounded But just as sure as the hand of God They brought death to my hometown They brought death to my hometown
Now, no shells ripped the evening sky No cities burning down No army stormed the shores for which we’d die No dictators were crowned I awoke on a quiet night, I never heard a sound The marauders raided in the dark And brought death to my hometown They brought death to my hometown
They destroyed our families, factories And they took our homes They left our bodies on the plains The vultures picked our bones
So, listen up my sonny boy, be ready when they come For they’ll be returning sure as the rising sun Now get yourself a song to sing And sing it ’til you’re done Sing it hard and sing it well Send the robber barons straight to hell The greedy thieves who came around And ate the flesh of everything they found Whose crimes have gone unpunished now Who walk the streets as free men now
They brought death to our hometown, boys Death to our hometown Death to our hometown, boys Death to our hometown
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture looks at the novel “In Dubious Battle” by George Steinbeck (1936). This books looks at an agricultural workers strike and follows two communist organizers who orchestrate it. It precedes his better-known works such as Of Mice and Men, The Grapes of Wrath, and Cannery Row. James Franco recently released a film adaptation that was poorly received.
Jim Nolan is a new organizer, being shown the ropes by Mac McLeod. They become fruit pickers and jolly along a strike that is brewing because the owners have cut the fruit pickers wages. A more interesting aspect of the novel is watching Mac teach Jim how to mobilize workers through a combination of education and manipulation.
The owners respond in typical ways, using economic pressure, vigilantes, the police and the state (in the form of health regulations) to undermine the strike. The death of a worker at the hands of a vigilante galvanizes the flagging strike.
The owners then up the ante, by shooing Jim, burning buildings, and kidnapping allies of the strikers. Jim is eventually killed, sacrificing himself for his principles (or perhaps the party). Mac uses Jim’s death to further advance the interests of the workers.
This week’s instalment of Labour & Pop Culture returns us to heady days of 1987, when hip-hop was beginning to penetrate mainstream American culture. “Paid in Full” by Eric B and Rakim explains the economics of crime. The song gave its name to a 2002 film about the drug trade in Harlem.
[Eric B]: Yo Rakim, what's up? [Rakim]: Yo, I'm doing the knowledge, E., I'm trying to get paid in full [E]: Well, check this out, since Nobry Walters is our agency, right? [R]: True [E]: Kara Lewis is our agent [R]: Word up [E]: Zakia/4th & Broadway is our record company [R]: Indeed [E]: Okay, so who we rollin with? [R]: We rollin with Rush [E]: Of Rushtown Management. Check this out, since we talking over This def beat that I put together, I wanna hear some of them Def rhymes, know what I'm sayin? And together, we can get Paid in full...
[Rakim] Thinkin of a master plan 'cause ain't nuthin but sweat inside my hand So I dig into my pocket, all my money is spent So I dig deeper but still comin up with lint So I start my mission- leave my residence Thinkin how could I get some dead presidents I need money, I used to be a stick-up kid So I think of all the devious things I did I used to roll up, this is a hold up, ain't nuthin funny Stop smiling, be still, don't nuthin move but the money But now I learned to earn cos I'm righteous I feel great! So maybe I might just Search for a 9 to 5, if I strive Then maybe I'll stay alive So I walk up the street whistlin this Feelin out of place cos, man, do I miss A pen and a paper, a stereo, a tape of Me and Eric B, and a nice big plate of Fish, which is my favorite dish But without no money it's still a wish Cos I don't like to dream about gettin paid So I dig into the books of the rhymes that I made To now test to see if I got pull Hit the studio, cos I'm paid in full
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “Private Dancer” by Tina Turner. The song is sung from the perspective of a worker in the sex industry. We don’t normally think about sex workers as workers—although they are.
A new course under development at Athabasca is hoping to change that. LBST 4XX (Sex work and sex workers) will examine the sex industry and the experiences of those work in it. While sex work represents one of the most extreme forms of employment, it shares many features with other forms of employment. Specifically, it is a relationship of power wherein one party appropriate the surplus value generated by the other, often employing coercion and externalizing costs in gendered and racialized ways.
The course offers an overview of the sex industry in a variety of theoretical and material contexts, as well as an in-depth focus on prostitution in the Canadian context. Taking “the prostitute” as the stereotype that drives public sex work policy, this course examines the myriad images of and circumstances in which sex work occurs. In addition to reading key texts by scholarly experts on the sex industry, we will hear from sex workers themselves about their jobs, working conditions, and the power dynamics of sex work.
Students will learn to analyze sex work as work through a variety of theoretical lenses, and to identify similarities and differences in legal and policy positions that respond to feminism, queer theory, critiques of neoliberalism and globalization, postcolonial praxis, and progressive legalism. This includes examining how labour policies, such as occupational health and safety policies, affect sex workers, the roles of clients and third parties in the sex industry, and sex workers’ labour organizing.
I’m hopeful this course will open in late 2019.
Well, the men come in these places And the men are all the same You don't look at their faces And you don't ask their names You don't think of them as human You don't think of them at all You keep your mind on the money Keeping your eyes on the wall
I'm your private dancer A dancer for money I'll do what you want me to do I'm your private dancer A dancer for money And any old music will do
I want to make a million dollars I want to live out by the sea Have a husband and some children Yeah, I guess I want a family All the men come in these places And the men are all the same You don't look at their faces And you don't ask their names
I'm your private dancer A dancer for money I'll do what you want me to do I'm your private dancer A dancer for money And any old music will do I'm your private dancer A dancer for money I'll do what you want me to do Just a private dancer A dancer for money And any old music will do
Deutschmarks or dollars American Express will do nicely, thank you Let me loosen up your collar Tell me, do you want to see me do the shimmy again?
I'm your private dancer A dancer for money Do what you want me to do Just a private dancer A dancer for money And any old music will do
All the men come in these places And the men are all the same You don't look at their faces And you don't ask their names You don't think of them as human You don't think of them at all You keep your mind on the money Keeping your eyes on the wall
I'm your private dancer A dancer for money I'll do what you want me to do I'm your private dancer A dancer for money And any old music will do I'm your private dancer A dancer for money I'll do what you want me to do I'm your private dancer A dancer for money And any old music will do
I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money Just a private dancer, a dancer for money
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “Shackled and Drawn” by Bruce Springsteen. This song has a bit of a gospel feel to it and is from Springsteen’s 2012 album Wrecking Ball. The album tells the stories of people whose lives were destroyed by the recession.
You can read the lyrics lots of ways—my first thought was it was about prison labour. But, on reflection, I think it uses being shackled as a metaphor for the debt and limited prospects of the working class.
Gambling man rolls the dice, workingman pays the bill It’s still fat and easy up on banker’s hill Up on banker’s hill, the party’s going strong Down here below we’re shackled and drawn
The live version above seems to stray from the studio version but the content s all there—just re-arranged.
Gray morning light spits through the shade Another day older, closer to the grave Closer to the grave and come the dawn I woke up this morning shackled and drawn
Shackled and drawn, shackled and drawn Pick up the rock son, carry it on I’m trudging through the dark in a world gone wrong I woke up this morning shackled and drawn
I always loved the feel of sweat on my shirt Stand back son and let a man work Let a man work, is that so wrong I woke up this morning shackled and drawn
Shackled and drawn, shackled and drawn Pick up the rock son, carry it on What’s a poor boy to do in a world gone wrong I woke up this morning shackled and drawn
Freedom son’s a dirty shirt The sun on my face and my shovel in the dirt A shovel in the dirt keeps the devil gone I woke up this morning shackled and drawn
Shackled and drawn, shackled and drawn Pick up the rock son, carry it on What’s a poor boy to do but keep singing his song I woke up this morning shackled and drawn
Gambling man rolls the dice, workingman pays the bill It’s still fat and easy up on banker’s hill Up on banker’s hill, the party’s going strong Down here below we’re shackled and drawn
Shackled and drawn, shackled and drawn Pick up the rock son, carry it on We’re trudging through the dark in a world gone wrong I woke up this morning shackled and drawn
Shackled and drawn, shackled and drawn Pick up the rock son, carry it on What’s a poor boy to do but keep singing his song I woke up this morning shackled and drawn
As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m involved with a large Canadian research project examining employment-related geographical mobility. My own interests have been centered on temporary foreign workers in Alberta. Other research clusters have examined intra- and inter-provincial migration
One of the benefits of involvement has been exposure to other disciplines and their way of looking at the world. I’ve become fairly interested in geographical research which seeks to map phenomenon (and changes) spatially. This approach often reveals nuances that are hard to “see” when looking at data.
For example, we might look at the effect of an economic downturn on a population on where people live and find that most people continue to live in the same city in which they were most recently employed. A more nuanced analysis, though, might examine where in the city they live.
involuntary job loss is associated with both short-distance residential mobility and long-distance migration,
short-distance residential mobility is the more common response to job loss,
this mobility typically entails movement from a non-deprived neighbourhood to a neighbourhood with high material deprivation (this is particularly the case for workers who identify as visible minorities; the reasons for this pattern are not clear).
This pattern after job loss suggests numerous possible knock-on effects. Workers may experience different and potentially constrained labour-market opportunities. Children may see their educational progress interrupted and their educational options constrained. Families may face a higher risk of criminal victimization.
One implication of this analysis is that job loss may set the stage for the accumulation of various forms of disadvantage. It is unclear if existing income support programs (e.g., employment insurance) are adequate to attenuate this effect. None of these effects are immediately visible when one just looks at high-level statistics about employment-related geographical mobility.
Presently, workers who are totally disabled (permanently or temporarily) are eligible to receive wage-loss benefits totalling 90% of their net earnings. The definition of earnings includes an insurable earnings cap or $98,700. This means that the WCB will replace $9 of every $10 of lost wages up to $98,700. Any lost wages over $98,700 are not compensated.
Bill 30 retains the 90% wage-loss replacement rate but eliminates the cap. This will be a boon to high-wage earners who have been doubly financially penalized by the cap (getting only 90% of wages and not getting any benefits for income over $98.7k).
It would have been more beneficial for the WCB to provide 100% replacement and keep the cap as this would have better helped lower-wage Albertans (who comprise the majority of injured workers). Helping out the richest injured workers seems like a strange choice for a government that styles itself as socially progressive to make.
Or they could have also done both (100% and no cap) and actually financially compensate all workers for the effect of their injuries… .That said, there were also some adjustments targeting lower-income injured workers.
Workers under 25 who experience a long-term and significant injury (≥50%) can have their income adjusted to the Albertan average. This addresses the situation wherein young workers (who often earn low wages) get stuck with life-time compensation set at absurdly low levels.
Bill 30 also adds a mandatory death benefit of $90.7k in the case of fatalities, levels-out the treatment of widows, and extends benefits to dependent children not living at home to age 25 if enrolled in an educational program. Bill 30 also improves retirement benefits for injured workers, recognizing the effect injury has on their ability to save for retirement.
Perhaps more importantly, the indexing of WCB benefits will track the consumer-price index (CPI). Presently, benefits are indexed at CPI - 0.5%. Under the previous policy, the worse you are injured, the worse the erosion of your benefits is, which is an unconscionable violation of the basic purpose of workers’ compensation. This practice is a legacy of the Tory government and allows benefits to erode over time in terms of purchasing power to the benefit of employers (whose claims costs go down).
Which brings us to an issue angering injured worker advocates: retroactivity.
As far as I can tell, the changes to benefit levels only affect claims that are filed after the changes take effect (between April and September 2018), although the CPI change should affect all claimants going forward.
That is to say, workers whose claims have been adjudicated cannot file for any sort of re-adjudication under the new rules. Are you a 17-year-old who gets permanently and totally injured on McDonald’s wages today? Sorry, you’re stuck with below poverty-line compensation until you die. Did your mom die and now you are 18 and want to go university? Oh well, you’re on your own sister. I appreciate the practical and political difficulty of making changes retro-actively. A saw-off might have been to allow re-adjudication going forward (i.e., allow the new rules to apply to old claims starting on a fixed date).
It may be that the WCB itself will create a process to re-examine old claims, although I think that is a faint hope. I only mention it because the government kicked another item to the WCB to sort out.
Presently, the WCB has been returning surpluses in the accident fund to employers to the tune of hundreds of millions of dollars each year. These surpluses are created (in significant part) by investment earnings from the accident fund, which are greater than the liabilities the fund must meet over the life of the claims the WCB is currently carrying. The Review Panel recommend some ways the surplus might be used to benefit workers and employers:
Retained in the fund to further “inflation proof” the Accident Fund and further secure future compensation and benefits for injured workers;
Conditional grants to support actions that improve workplace safety;
Conditional grants to support research into enhancements of the system;
Enhancement of data gathering to support better intelligence on workplace safety and to better inform injury and illness prevention efforts; and
Facilitate some stability in employer rates by helping smooth out the step changes that may occur due to our Panel’s other recommendations.
Another option would be to address long-standing disputed claims and apply the benefits improvements set out in Bill 30 to existing claims. Not surprisingly, employers have been seeking continued surplus distributions.
The government essentially followed the last recommendation of the review panel. At least $94 million will be needed annually to offset the cost of additional benefits triggered by Bill 30. But that still leaves $100m (sometimes much more) up for grabs each year.
The government declined to clarify in legislation what should happen to future surpluses. They have clarified that the purpose of money in the accident fund is intended to create a sustainable and fair system. That said, Bill 30 leaves it up to the WCB to determine how best to proceed.
It may be that the government may have some quiet (or not so quiet) suggestions about how to handle surpluses. Leaving the decision to the WCB insulates the government from any political fall out. It also raises the possibility that historically pro-employer WCB will just keep giving the surpluses to employers.
Overall, these changes to the WCB are a significant win for injured workers. Yet there is a sense of half-measures to some of them. And aggrieved injured workers remain out in the cold.
Somethin' gotta give with the way I'm livin'
Seems I'm gettin' down everyday
The more I strive, the less I'm alive
And seems I'm gettin' further away
…
Yeah baby I need a plan to understand
That life ain't only supply and demand
The sentiment here is fine and all, but I wonder if the notion that self-reflection is a cure-all for over work is a bit facile. Certainly becoming aware that we’re working too much and might better spend our time doing other things is nice.
But there are lots of concrete reasons people work more that they’d like, such as declining real-dollar wages, a lack of permanent jobs, and growing economic insecurity. Pop culture—which is embedded in a capitalist economy—rarely problematizes the structural outcomes of capitalism.
Instead, it tends to individualize responsibility. Like this song suggesting workers need to change their behaviour. I’m sure the warehouse guy in this video would like to work less:
Well your wife and your baby you tell them yeah well maybe
I'll meet y'all at a weekend resort
Put your eyes on the prize and you can realize
Your little girl's life's so short
But can he? And what kind of profound political and economic change would be required for a manual labourer to earn a living wage?
There doesn’t appear to be an official video for this song so I found this fan-made video. Note the lip-syncer is not Amos Lee.
Somethin' gotta give with the way I'm livin'
Seems I'm gettin' down everyday
The more I strive, the less I'm alive
And seems i'm gettin' further away
Oh well all my superstitions and my crazy suspicions
Of the people that I care about
I been doin' more screamin' than I been doin' dreamin'
And I think it's time I figured it out
Yeah baby I need a plan to understand
That life ain't only supply and demand
I been goin' joggin' in the park after dark
Draggin' 'round with me my ball and chain
Took southern skies to make me realize
That I'm causin' myself this pain
The woman that I'm lovin' yeah I'm pushin' and shovin'
Getting further on by the day
And I can't understand how the heart of this man
Ever let it end up this way
Yeah baby I need a plan to understand
That life ain't only supply and demand
When the road gets dark and lonesome dear
You can find me here
But honey you don't know where I am
You need a friieend yeeaahh
Life ain't easy in fact I know it's sleazy
When you're the big man in town
Shakin' religions and makin' decisions
You never get slow on down
Well your wife and your baby you tell them yeah well maybe
I'll meet y'all at a weekend resort
Put your eyes on the prize and you can realize
Your little girl's life's so short
Brother you need a plan to understand
That life ain't only supply and demand
Yeah sister you need a plan to understand
That life ain't only supply and demand
Hey, you better figure it out now
You know you ain't comin' back down, yeah
You better figure it out now
You know you ain't comin' back down
This week’s installment in Labour & Pop Culture features “Electric Avenue” by Eddy Grant. The song refers to rioting in April of 1981 in the Brixton area of London. The local community (predominantly of African or Caribbean descent) faced significant economic troubles and racism. Rioting broke out in April and left hundreds (mostly cops) injured as well as significant property damage.
The song talks about the terrible conditions and frustrations faced by the residents of Brixton:
Workin' so hard like a soldier
Can't afford a thing on TV
Deep in my heart I'm a warrior
Can't get food for them kid, good God
The chorus promises to “Rock down to Electric Avenue/And then we’ll take it higher”. Electric Avenue was the first place with electric street lights in Brixton (although not a site of significant rioting). Taking it higher refers to the need for the poor to protest in the neighbourhoods of the rich, rather than trashing their own communities.
I first heard this song in 1984. We used to make a summer trek from northeastern BC to the homeland (Saskatchewan) each year. Often my mother would buy a new cassette tape for the van for the trip. She ran into Zellers to get a copy of Eddie Rabbit’s new tape (he was a folk singer) but got confused and bought Electric Avenue. Several hundred kilometers later, hilarity ensued.
Boy
Boy
Down in the street there is violence
And a lots of work to be done
No place to hang out our washing
And I can't blame all on the sun, oh no
We gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Oh we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Workin' so hard like a soldier
Can't afford a thing on TV
Deep in my heart I'm a warrior
Can't get food for them kid, good God
We gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Oh we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Oh no
Oh no
Oh no
Oh no
Who is to blame in one country
Never can get to the one
Dealin' in multiplication
And they still can't feed everyone, oh no
We gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Oh we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Out in the street
Out in the street
Out in the daytime
Out in the night
We gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Oh we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Out in the street
Out in the street
Out in the playground
In the dark side of town
We gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
Oh we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher
We gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher, Electric Avenue
We gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we'll take it higher, Electric Avenue
The Alberta Workers’ Health Centre recently concluded a multi-year project aimed at improving the health and safety of new Alberta workers. The summary report is here.
One of the most interesting outcomes is a case study of a new Alberta worker who was injured on the job. "Betty" experienced great difficulty in obtaining compensation for a debilitating workplace injury.
Among the challenges Betty faced were:
1. Neither her doctors nor her employer reported her injury to WCB. Continuing to work while injured lead to an intensification of her injury, which has now resulted in a permanent disability.
2. When she finally filed a WCB claim, her employment was terminated.
3. The WCB jerked her around in accepting her claim, including treating a specialist medical diagnosis as just a preliminary opinion.
4. The WCB made multiple changes to her wage-loss benefits, often without notice to her and have yet to pay her everything she is owed.
5. The WCB assessed her as able to secure work in a job that does not meet her medical restrictions and which does not exist. After several months of job search assistance, the WCB then deemed her to hold this job and cut off her wage-loss benefits.
Betty is now unemployed with no income and, because of her injury, has no reasonable prospects of employment. Betty’s case is both fairly typical and fairly spectacular.
It is typical in that many injured workers face these problems.
It is spectacular in that Betty’s faced almost every problem injured workers possibly could face in filing a claim and she documented how poorly the WCB treated her.
Betty’s overall assessment is “If I’d known how awful this would be… I would have never applied for WCB.” Hopefully, the WCB Review that was conducted over the last year will address some of the systematic problems.
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “Talk a Walk” by Passion Pit. Electropop isn’t really my thing but this song is catchy and was featured in an episode of The Newsroom.
This song offers a sympathetic portrayal of the life of a business man (or men) who is down on his luck. Each verse of the song is based upon the experiences of a different family member of the lyricist.
The result is the singer’s perspective and/or circumstances is constantly changing (i.e., the singer does not stay in character). In a May 2012 interview, Michael Angelakos stated:
It's about very specific family members, the male hierarchy, and how the men in my family have always dealt with money. I've always been really fond of a lot of my family members and not so fond of others. All these men were very conservative; socially very liberal but for some reason, they all came here for capitalism, and they all ended up kind of being prey to capitalism.
Overall, a more metacognitive spin on being a worker than most songs about labour.
All these kinds of places
Make it seem like it's been ages
Tomorrow's sun with buildings scrape the sky
I love this country dearly
I can feel the lighter clearly
But never thought I'd be alone to try1
Once I was outside Penn Station
Selling red and white carnations
You were still alone
My wife and I
Before we marry, save my money
Brought my dear wife over
Now I want to bring my family state side
But off the boat they stayed a while
Then scatter cross the course
Once a year I'll see them for a week or so at most
I took a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Take a walk, oh-oh-oh
Take a walk, oh-oh-oh
I take a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Practice isn't perfect
With the market cuts and loss
I remind myself that times could be much worse
My wife won't ask me questions
And there's not so much to ask
And she'll never flaunt around an empty purse
Once my mother-in-law came
Just to stay a couple nights
Then decided she would stay the rest of her life
I watch my little children, play some board game in the kitchen
And I sit and pray they never feel my strife
But then my partner called to say the pension funds were gone
He made some bad investments
Now the counts are overdrawn
I took a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Take a walk, oh-oh-oh
Take a walk, oh-oh-oh
I took a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Honey it's your son I think I borrowed just to much
We had taxes we had bills
We had a lifestyle to front
And tonight I swear I'll come home
And we'll make love like we're young
And tomorrow you'll cook dinner
For the neighbors and the kids
We could rent the Wart of socialists
And all their ten taxes
You'll see I am no criminal
I'm down on both bad knees
I'm just too much a coward
To admit when I'm in need
I took a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Take a walk, oh-oh-oh
Take a walk, oh-oh-oh
I took a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
I took a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
I took a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
Take a walk, take a walk, take a walk
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “Westray” by Short Notice. This week marks the 25th anniversary of an explosion at Nova Scotia’s Westray mine that killed 26 workers and injured 11 more. The explosion was the result of the employer negligence and gave rise to (sadly ineffective) amendments to the allowing criminal prosecutions for workplace injuries and deaths.
There are a number of Westray songs. I choice this one because of the themes it pulls out. They include how politics is so closely intertwined with employment in resource-based communities:
Pictou county is Tory blue Dyed in the wool and blue collar too Elect a Prime Minister they’ll treat you kind They’ll give you a job in the Westray mine
Perhaps most important is how workers’ are pressured to trade their safety (and their lives) for employment:
Knee deep in dust they worked every day Inspectors and mine bosses looked the other way You want to keep your job you will tow the line Not a word leaves the bowels of the Westray mine
The song also pulls no punches about who was responsible for the disaster and how little they cared:
Twenty-two families were torn that day Working men’s dreams simply snuffed away While Frame and Phillips still live happy lives They lose no sleep over the Westray mine
Frame is Clifford Frame, the businessman who ultimately controlled the Westray Mine. Phillips is Gerald Phillips, one of the mine managers who took no action on the safety concerns.
The flesh and bone and the steel’s entwined There’s blood on the coal in the Westray mine There’s blood on the coal in the Westray mine
Pictou county is Tory blue Dyed in the wool and blue collar too Elect a Prime Minister they’ll treat you kind They’ll give you a job in the Westray mine
The foord seam coal is known to kill Every scar on her face she has always filled With the lives of the men who have loathe to find To stay they must work in a foord seam mine
Knee deep in dust they worked every day Inspectors and mine bosses looked the other way You want to keep your job you will tow the line Not a word leaves the bowels of the Westray mine
Recession makes men work where they should not stay They will risk their lives for a good days pay Till gas and politics grew too great to confine Blew the roof off the ramp of the Westray mine
Bare faced miners and draegermen too Did all that good brave men could do But not a living soul was there left to find After hell had its way in the Westray mine
Twenty-two families were torn that day Working men’s dreams simply snuffed away While Frame and Phillips still live happy lives They lose no sleep over the Westray mine
Many years have passed sadly little has changed After all this time not one scoundrel’s paid Till politicians’ lives are on the line Good men will die in some Westray mine
The death blast roar and the sirens whine Pray those husbands sons and brothers aren’t yours and mine Leave their soul on the rock in the Westray mine Soul on the rock in the Westray mine
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “Earn Enough for Us” by XTC. It was issued in 1986 and reflects the economic anxiety many Britons felt as a result of Margaret Thatcher’s austerity policies.
The singer worries about making enough money to make ends meet, particularly given that his partner is pregnant. The solution he proposes is to get an additional job while continuing to put up with a bad boss at his current one.
The song has just a touch a despair:
Just because we're on the bottom of the ladder
We shouldn't be sadder
Than others like us
Who have goals for the betterment of life
Here we see the entrenched class system where a better life feels beyond reach. There is no video for this song but you can listen to it here. In its place, I give you Today in HR: Succession Planning:
I've been praying all the week through
At home, at work and on the bus
I've been praying I can keep you
And to earn enough for us
I can take humiliation
And hurtful comments from the boss
I'm just praying by the weekend
I can earn enough for us
Found a house that won't repair itself
With it's windows cracking
And a roof held together with holes
Just because we're on the bottom of the ladder
We shouldn't be sadder
Than others like us
Who have goals for the betterment of life
Glad that you want to be my wife, but honest
I've been praying all the week through
At home at work and on the bus
I've been praying I can keep you
And to earn enough for us
So you're saying that we're going to be three
Now, a father's what I'll be
Don't get me wrong, I'm so proud
But the belt's already tight
I'll get another job at night, but honest
I can take humiliation
And hurtful comments from the boss
I'm just praying by the weekend
I can earn enough for us
Just because we're at the bottom of the ladder
We shouldn't be sadder
Than others like us
Who have goals for the betterment of life
Glad that you want to be my wife, but honest
I can take humiliation
And hurtful comments from the boss
I'm just praying by the weekend
I can earn enough for us
I can earn enough for us
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “In the City of Chicago” by Christy Moore. This song talks about the immigrant experience of Irish who fled the Irish potato famine of 1845-1852 and settled in Chicago. During this period, approximately 1 million Irish died and another million emigrated.
Emigration is often best understood by considering both push and pull factors. Contemporary research suggests that push factors include the need to seek employment and, more importantly, a sense of dissatisfaction with life in their home community.
Pull factors included employment prospects in the destination community, as well as the desirability of the destination (e.g., ability to find and integrate into a social community, availability of housing). As the Irish potato famine (or the more recent exodus of Syrians from their country) reminds us, sometimes the push factor overwhelms the pull.
[CHORUS]
In the City of Chicago, As the evening shadows fall, There are people dreaming, Of the hills of Donegal.
1847, was the year it all began, Deadly pains of hunger, drove a million from the land, They journeyed not for glory, Their motive was not greed, A voyage of survival, Across the stormy sea.
[CHORUS]
Some of them knew fortune, some of them knew fame, More of them knew hardship, And died upon the plain, They spread throughout the nation, They rode the railroad cars, Brought their songs and music, To ease their lonely hearts.
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “Dead End Street” by the Kinks. The 1966 song looks at poverty among the lower class in the UK. The song was written to highlight that not everyone experienced the 1960s as fun and flamboyance.
Instead, many remained trapped by a strict class system that included high level of un- or under-employment. This is reflected in the lyrics “Out of work and got no money” and:
What are we living for? Two-roomed apartment on the second floor. No chance to emigrate, I'm deep in debt and now it's much too late.
Interestingly, as Guy Standing notes in The Precariat, not all that much has changed for many Britons. There remains a significant intergenerational transmission of advantage and disadvantage in the UK and elsewhere.
The video (wherein the band play Victorian undertakers) was one of the first ever music videos:
There's a crack up in the ceiling, And the kitchen sink is leaking. Out of work and got no money, A Sunday joint of bread and honey.
What are we living for? Two-roomed apartment on the second floor. No money coming in, The rent collector's knocking, trying to get in.
We are strictly second class, We don't understand, (Dead end!) Why we should be on dead end street. (Dead end!) People are living on dead end street. (Dead end!) Gonna die on dead end street. Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah)
On a cold and frosty morning, Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning. And my feet are nearly frozen, Boil the tea and put some toast on.
What are we living for? Two-roomed apartment on the second floor. No chance to emigrate, I'm deep in debt and now it's much too late.
We both want to work so hard, We can't get the chance, (Dead end!) People live on dead end street. (Dead end!) People are dying on dead end street. (Dead end!) Gonna die on dead end street. Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) (Dead end!)
People live on dead end street. (Dead end!) People are dying on dead end street. (Dead end!) Gonna die on dead end street. Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Head to my feet (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) How's it feel? (yeah) How's it feel? (yeah) Dead end street (yeah) Dead end street (yeah
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “This Land is Your Land” written by Woodie Guthrie. Most people are familiar with the first three verses of the song (it is a standard of school and camp sing-alongs).
The real meat of the song is in the last verses which Guthrie didn’t record, possibly because he feared the communist witch-hunt lead by Joseph McCarthy during the 1950s.
They talk about how the institution of private property undermines the ability of average American’s to enjoy the country that is their birthright.
As I went walking I saw a sign there And on the sign it said "No Trespassing." But on the other side it didn't say nothing, That side was made for you and me.
And they draw attention to the grinding poverty that many Americans experience due to the operation of a capitalist economy.
In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people, By the relief office I seen my people; As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking Is this land made for you and me?
The prevalence of gated communities, food banks, urban ghettos, and xenophobia that is evident in the United States today suggests progress (for the many) has been slow and uneven. I chose Bruce Springsteen’s cover of the song because he sings the less common verses (including the more critical ones).
This land is your land This land is my land From California to the New York island; From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and Me.
As I was walking that ribbon of highway, I saw above me that endless skyway: I saw below me that golden valley: This land was made for you and me.
I've roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts; And all around me a voice was sounding: This land was made for you and me.
When the sun came shining, and I was strolling, And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling, As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting: This land was made for you and me.
As I went walking I saw a sign there And on the sign it said "No Trespassing." But on the other side it didn't say nothing, That side was made for you and me.
In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people, By the relief office I seen my people; As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking Is this land made for you and me?
Nobody living can ever stop me, As I go walking that freedom highway; Nobody living can ever make me turn back This land was made for you and me.
This week’s installment of Labour & Pop Culture is “Big Branch” by Gangstagrass. This song explores how the whip of hunger drives workers’ to do things they wouldn’t normally do. It also juxtaposes individual and corporate criminality. I don't really care for rap, but this is worth a listen.
The singer raps about her coal-mining father and grandfather and the cost mining exacted on their lives. Her grandfather died (I suspect from an occupational disease) and her father was blacklisted for organizing workers.
During this time I got to know my dad
He would tell me stories 'bout the job he ha
It’s the culture round here and it makes people proud
Basically it’s pretty much the only job around
He tells her of the hazards of the job and how workers act against their own interests because they have no other way to learn a living. She resolved never to mine and instead goes into the meth industry, eventually losing her hand in a workplace explosion and gets jailed. While in jail she hears another explosion—this time from the coal mine.
Who's the outlaw? Quick on the draw?
Cast the first stone if you don't have a flaw.
Who fills the jails? Who lives above the law?
White collar, Black Market, Who's Rich, Who's Poor?
Who's the outlaw? Quick on the draw?
Cast the first stone if you don't have a flaw.
Who fills the jails? Who lives above the law?
White collar, Black Market, Who's Rich, Who's Poor?
Never knew my father ‘cos he worked all day
Left the house sundown that’s the coal miner’s way
The pay was real good he made 70k
But it wasn’t worth all the things he had to give away
His father did the same thing same time
Took everything he had until it took his life
When I lost my grandfather I was seven years old
Decided then and there I would never mine coal.
That plus the dust on everything in our home
A quarter inch thick on every single thing we owned
But that was nothing compared to what we couldn’t see
Toxic particles in the air we had to breathe.
He tried so hard to be relocated
His boss wouldn’t do it and my mom was devastated
He started a petition and everyone enlisted
Til he lost his job and he got blacklisted
CHORUS
Who's the outlaw? Quick on the draw?
Cast the first stone if you don't have a flaw.
Who fills the jails? Who lives above the law?
White collar, Black Market, Who's Rich, Who's Poor?
CHORUS
During this time I got to know my dad
He would tell me stories 'bout the job he had
It’s the culture round here and it makes people proud
Basically it’s pretty much the only job around
He told me how they took apart the ventilation system
Sent two men instead of one to speed up the production
They knew it wasn’t safe but they followed the instruction
One hundred feet of coal a day that was their only function
No matter if it took twelve hours or sixteen
They took short cuts to keep the operation lean
Skipping safety measures made it risky for the team
But they all knew the deal so nobody intervened
When inspectors came watch dogs would let them know
And out the dust comes so the level will read low
The more violation the more production grows
Someone dies from black lung every time the wind blows
CHORUS
CHORUS
Then it came time for me to go out on my own
A tear in my mama's eye "child you've grown"
Can't recall a time when I felt so alone
As when I headed straight into the danger zone
Always good at science, always loved chemistry
But here in West Virginia there's not a lot of options, see?
My buddy had a meth lab he ran underground
Out of a mobile home on the outskirts of town
Business was picking up and he could use my help
Run the red, white ‘n blue, process for myself
Iodine, ephedrine, red phosphorus
Highly combustible and high risk
BAM, I lost my hand, blew up the lab
And from the jail cell I would hear the same blast
But this came from the big branch coal mine
I just found out that it killed twenty-five
