Are airline unions a good thing?
I recently received an e-mail claiming, “The downfall of the American airline industry is related specifically to airline unions. With the ridiculous work rules and inflated salaries, it is virtually impossible to compete with foreign airlines. The industry would be saved if the unions disappeared altogether.”
At first I shrugged it off, but then I decided to address this issue with as little bias as possible — considering, of course, that I am a member of a union.
On one side, you have the argument that greedy unions asking for unrealistic pay packages and work rules severely restrict airline flexibility. Airline unions make it difficult to fire those workers who are either unproductive or have bad attitudes. Work stoppages, work actions and rallies hold the airlines hostage, critics say, and they disrupt everyone’s travel plans. Moreover, U.S. airlines are increasingly forced to outsource work because they can’t afford to pay their workers’ current contract wages.
Recently the noise has been about Delta Air Lines, whose only unionized labor group — the pilots — threatened to shut the whole airline down last month. Union detractors point out that Delta’s other workers have done quite well without union representation; they also remind us that it was a collaborative strike that nailed Eastern Airlines’ coffin shut in 1989. In the end, the critics argue, all U.S. airlines would be more profitable without the unions.
On the other side, you have the argument of the average airline worker who wants basic rights, humane working conditions and adequate compensation. They live in the United States and should be protected from unfair, unsafe and unhealthy work environments. Without union protection, this argument goes, the workers would be taken advantage of. In this view, work actions and strikes are legal, right and proper.
As for Delta, it’s true that only the pilots are unionized, but the airline’s other labor groups have long used the threat of unionizing as a bargaining chip. I guarantee they will quickly join a union after their recent cuts. Discrimination is unacceptable in America. How would you like to be fired because you gained 10 pounds — or for no reason at all?
Bankruptcy ups the ante a lot — and it gives airline management a sneaky way to get around the union. You see it more and more often: An airline enters Chapter 11, then threatens to persuade the bankruptcy judge to void current labor contracts unless the union agrees to severe pay cuts and work-rule changes. If the judge does void the contract, the airline can make any changes it wishes, so of course the labor group always threatens to strike — leading, almost invariably, to a management reminder that such a strike would be illegal.
My response is, “So what?” The threatened strike may be illegal, but what are you going to do, fire everybody? I often wonder what would happen if the strike scenario ever played out. So far, no bankruptcy judge has ever voided a contract, as last-minute bargaining (and fear of the unknown) seems always to lead to some sort of resolution.
The biggest crime I see in the Chapter 11 loophole concerns executive compensation packages. Under the bankruptcy rules, you can force frontline workers into a 50 percent pay cut, and radically change their working conditions, and yet top management can walk away with millions of dollars in salary, bonuses and incentives. I think this is outrageous.
One airline recently shut down and the CEO’s last words were, “I have no regrets.”
He has no regrets about taking over a perfectly healthy regional airline and two years later closing the doors, putting thousands of people out of work? No. And he has no regrets that while the airline was unable to pay its final bills, his $3 million compensation package remained intact. I would have no regrets, either. Imagine what he could have gotten away with if there were no unions watching him. As we have learned in the last several years, given the chance, executives from all areas of business will rape their companies and leave town smiling.
In the old days, unions were sometimes associated with organized crime. It never occurred to me to write about this aspect of union life until one day an elderly lady approached me from my flight attendants union. She was a bit overweight, with graying hair and a raspy voice from years of smoking. Maybe I’ve seen too many Mafia movies, but she sure reminded me of Marlon Brando in “The Godfather.”
“So, I hear you like to write little airline stories,” she said.
“Uh, yeah, sort of. Why?” I replied.
“If you ever write one about the union, just remember where your bread is buttered. Got it?”
I chuckled to myself, imagining a bizarre version of “The Sopranos”: A bunch of elderly ladies sitting around a table, mafioso style. They are knitting, playing bridge and sipping sherry.
“So, Betty, what are we going to do about this Wysong character?” the Godmother asks as she pops her daily vitamins.
“Shall I fit him for a concrete life vest?” Betty answers.
“No, not yet. Let me give him the old buttered-bread lecture.”
The irony is that if I get into trouble for writing this article, the people I am ridiculing are the ones who will help me keep my job. I hope they have a sense of humor. If not, I will say hello to Jimmy Hoffa for everyone, or — with luck — just take a number at the unemployment office.
