Making Abortion Rights Real

The week began on a surprisingly strong note for reproductive justice advocates, as the US Supreme Court, by a 5–3 margin, overturned Texas’s draconian House Bill 2.

The law, which Wendy Davis famously filibustered in her pink tennis shoes, purported to protect women’s health by requiring that health clinics providing abortion services “meet the standards for ambulatory surgical centers, including regulations concerning buildings, equipment and staffing” and that “doctors performing abortions . . . have admitting privileges at a nearby hospital.” These regulations, which the Supreme Court found on Monday to be an “undue burden” for those seeking an abortion, would have shuttered half of the Texas facilities that perform abortions.

Activists are rightly celebrating the ruling as a win for abortion rights. In Texas and elsewhere, women seeking to terminate unwanted pregnancies likely won’t have to contend with the anti-abortion statutes passed since the 2010 Tea Party wave.

But the decision in Whole Women’s Health v. Texas, much like the 4–4 tie in the recent anti-labor Friedrichs v. CTA case, is more a reprieve than an absolute victory. Rather than overturn an earlier, poorly decided decision, the Court potentially locked in the justification for restricting the unalloyed right to an abortion by ruling that the Texas law was simply an overreach.

That earlier, poorly decided case, 1992’s Planned Parenthood v. Casey, represented the culmination of the Reagan-Bush-era legal drive to overturn Roe v. Wade. In a 5–4 decision, in which Anthony Kennedy cast the decisive vote, the Court upheld a Pennsylvania law that mandated a twenty-four-hour waiting period, parental consent for minors, and spousal notification before a woman could obtain an abortion.

While the ruling nominally rendered Roe v. Wade a settled precedent (Antonin Scalia and Clarence Thomas voted against it for that reason), it opened the door for state law restrictions, as long as they didn’t present a “substantial obstacle in the path of a woman seeking an abortion before the fetus attains viability.” In other words, Casey simultaneously protected the right to an abortion and gutted it.

This is strikingly similar to how the Supreme Court has handled labor rights. In 1937, Congress passed the National Labor Relations Act, which enshrined workers’ right to form unions and go on strikes, and gave the federal government the power to go after bosses who interfered with those rights.

But one year later, a key Supreme Court decision, which was similarly celebrated at the time, protected the right to strike while utterly gutting it. In Mackay Radio v. NLRB, the Court upheld the law and ordered the employer to reinstate four striking workers who had been fired.

Yet despite the statute’s guarantee that “Nothing in the Act should be interpreted to interfere with or impede or diminish in any way the right to strike,” as well as its explicit protection of striking workers against “discrimination,” the Court held that in order to “protect and continue his business,” the boss could permanently replace workers in the order of reserve seniority. Employers, in other words, could get rid of striking workers as long as it didn’t present a substantial obstacle to exercising their union rights.

Obsessive union-busters seized on the new precedent. In one important case, an employer tried to give its scabs “super-seniority” — workers who had gone on strike would get laid off first, even years after the job action. The Court struck down that action in 1963, ruling that it was too discriminatory and “not proper under Mackay.” But like Whole Women’s Health, the Court’s Erie Resistor decision further legitimized restrictions on a fundamental right by declaring that a certain set of actions simply went too far — not that the right was improperly restricted in the first place.

A ticking time bomb for decades, the so-called Mackay Doctrine was deployed by employers in the 1980s and 1990s as part of a broader union-busting campaign. Beginning with a strike at the Phelps-Dodge mining corporation in 1983, employers bargained hard for drastic concessions in pay, benefits, and working conditions; dared their unions to strike; hired scabs to take their jobs; and after twelve months encouraged the replacement workers to vote to decertify the union. This is the union-busting playbook that has decimated labor’s ranks and paved the way for massive income and wealth inequality.

Casey has worked out about as poorly for reproductive rights advocates.

The past quarter century has seen a sustained drive to place all kinds of limits on reproductive rights: waiting periods, forced “counseling,” trans-vaginal ultrasounds, burdensome zoning regulations. Already more than a third of women seeking an abortion have to travel at least twenty-five miles to find a facility. Add in mandatory waiting periods (still constitutional, alas), and you’re talking about entire days off from work, travel and motel expenses as well as the cost of the procedure itself, which is often not covered by insurance. (Now, as ever, is an excellent time to donate to your local abortion access fund.)

For far too many working-class women, the right to an abortion exists on paper, rather than as a genuine right — just as for many workers, the right to strike remains purely formal.

So by all means, let’s breathe a sigh of relief. Let’s take some time to celebrate. This was supposed to be a much worse Supreme Court term, and maybe, just maybe, we’re seeing the beginning of the end for constitutionally accepted restrictions on abortion rights.

But the labor movement’s experience with Mackay should give us pause. Even if the heat dies down on new anti-choice efforts, if the now-legitimized Casey precedent is not overturned, and soon, it could be used as legal ammunition in the next massive assault on reproductive rights.

The next president could appoint as many as three Supreme Court justices — totally changing the high court’s makeup and voting dynamics. We need to begin thinking beyond the defensive strategies of Friedrichs and Whole Women’s Health and start planning campaigns of judicial activism to overturn rotten Court precedents and put women’s fundamental rights on firmer legal footing.

[This article originally appeared at Jacobin.]

The Right to Strike Must Mean the Right to Return to Work After a Strike

With the decisive victory for union members at Verizon, 2016 is already on pace to be the second year in a row where recorded strike activity has increased over the previous half-decade. Now, a new decision from the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) could restore legal job protections for striking workers, making workplace job actions a more common—and more powerful—union strategy.

Workers simply do not have a meaningful right to strike if they do not have a right to return to the job when the strike is over. But, thanks to the judicial gutting of labor rights, going on strike is a high stakes proposition for American workers. Not only do striking workers lose out on pay and benefits during the strike, but they run the risk of losing their jobs entirely. So, while work stoppages are on the rise relative to the last few years, they are at historically low levels compared to the post-war era when wages actually rose with corporate profits.

In a new case, American Baptist Homes, the NLRB attempts to strike a balance between workers’ statutory right to strike and protection against employer retaliation for union activity and a boss’s Supreme Court-granted “right” to hire permanent replacement workers “to protect and continue his business.” Thankfully in this case, the exceptionally arrogant and stupid Executive Director of the employer in this case and her counsel went on the record that their use of permanent replacements was meant to “punish the strikers and the Union” and to discourage future strikes, as Benjamin Sachs has detailed.

For much of the last four decades, the NLRB has simply taken a boss’s word that the permanent replacement of striking workers was necessary to continue her business. Now, the NLRB has declared that it will return to an earlier, Supreme Court-approved standard in which employers’ rights to permanently replace striking workers may be “wholly impeached by the showing of an intent to encroach upon protected rights.”

In other words, the NLRB will investigate when an employer hires scabs—and they better have a good case. Since most strikes these days are defensive—pushing back against employers’ attempts to gut work rules, slash pay and benefits and bust the union—this is a big deal.

“…to interfere with or impede or diminish in any way the right to strike.”

A forthcoming book by labor law scholar Julius Getman, The Supreme Court on Unions: Why Labor Law is Failing American Workers, explores in depth the “judicial arrogance” of the court in substituting their own ideology and facts when shaping the labor law regime. It is particularly well timed as we look forward to a profound change in the Court in the wake of Justice Antonin Scalia’s death (although Getman clearly did not anticipate Scalia’s timely passing when he wrote the book).

One aspect that stands out in Getman’s book, to this writer at least, is the shakiness of the legal precedent that allows employers to permanently replace striking workers. It begs for a campaign of judicial activism to repeal it.

This legal vulnerability of strikers was established by a 1938 Supreme Court decision, NLRB vs. Mackay Radio. It was a poorly decided and little-revisited case upon which the entire anti-union playbook depends. Getman shines a welcome spotlight on the case, and inspires the conclusion that the so-called “Mackay Doctrine” is overdue for a sustained campaign of judicial challenge from unions and their allies.

In the original case, NLRB v. Mackay Radio & Telegraph Co., the union’s strike lasted all of one weekend. The employer continued operating by transferring workers from its other facilities, and when support for the union’s goals failed to materialize, the leaders called off the strike. When the strikers returned to work on Monday, four of the leaders were singled out and denied reinstatement.

The NLRB quickly ruled that the employer’s actions were clear violations of the law and went to court to order the employer to reinstate the four fired strikers, with back pay. The 9th Circuit Court refused to enforce the NLRB’s order, as this was generally a period when many jurists considered the labor act, in part or in whole, to be unconstitutional. That’s how the case got to the Supreme Court.

Ironically, the Mackay decision was hailed at the time as a victory for labor. It was yet another decision that cemented the constitutionality of labor law, but the Court also found for the union and the NLRB.

The labor relations act, after all, was meant to protect workers who engage in union activity from “discrimination in regard to hire or tenure of employment or any term or condition of employment,” and these four workers were singled out for their strike activity and told that they no longer had jobs.

Of course, Mackay had no time to hire permanent replacements in a weekend.

The issue was inserted by Justice Owen Roberts as an offhand comment, which I’ll quote in full because it bears scrutiny:

Although Section 13 of the act, provides, ‘Nothing in the Act should be interpreted to interfere with or impede or diminish in any way the right to strike,’ it does not follow that an employer, guilty of no act denounced by the statute, has lost the right to protect and continue his business by supplying places left vacant by strikers. And he is not bound to discharge those hired to fill the places of strikers, upon the election of the latter to resume their employment in order to create places for them.

In other words, the employer in Mackay broke the law because it discriminated against the strike leaders by singling them out and firing them, but if the employer had found a non-discriminatory way to discriminate against strikers (like, say, hiring scabs to replace them in the order of reverse seniority) then that would be hunky dory.

“…the right to protect and continue his business…”

In the four decades that followed Mackay, very few employers took the liberty to permanently replace striking workers, as it generally fell outside what was considered socially acceptable behavior by employers in the post-war era.

Which isn’t to say that some employers didn’t try to push the envelope in their union-busting attempts. Most judicial revisiting of Mackay comes from cases where the Courts rejected employer attempts to go further.

For instance, in a 1963 case the Supreme Court rejected an employer’s attempt to grant replacements a “super seniority” for their service as scabs by ruling that it was not “proper under Mackay.” It was this sort of right-wing judicial activism that pushed back on union rights and served to give a bad footnote the appearance of settled legal doctrine. But the court has never revisited the facts or logic of the Mackay decision.

As Getman points out, what is now considered the “Mackay Doctrine” is in direct conflict with the actual Mackay decision:

The holding is that it is illegal to decide which employees are entitled to work after a strike on the basis of union activity. But the dictum insists that the employer may give employment preference to those who work during a strike over those who strike, which is precisely the same result, penalizing union activity that was outlawed by the holding.

“It is impossible to know,“ writes Getman, “what led the Court to go out of its way to announce that the hiring of permanent replacements was consistent with the Act.” But one can easily guess that the conservative judges, aghast at New Deal encroachments on property rights, sought to ensure that the bargaining power of unions was “balanced” in some way.

The Mackay Doctrine wasn’t really put to use until the 1980s, starting with the Phelps-Dodge copper mining company, which bargained its Steelworkers local to impasse over drastic cuts in pay, benefits and working conditions, pushed them out on strike and then had the scabs vote to decertify the union 12 months later. This is how employers have weaponized Mackay to union-bust much of American industry. (And it would be clearly illegal under the new American Baptist Homes standard.)

The results are far from Justice Roberts’ nebulous “right to protect and continue his business,” and farther still from “balancing” the power of unions and management. Common sense dictates that the right of management to permanently replace striking workers be revisited; justice demands that the Mackay Doctrine be overturned.

Call me a cockeyed optimist, but I think Mackay is vulnerable to constitutional challenge as a violation of workers’ 1st amendment rights of free speech and assembly, 13th amendment protections against involuntary servitude and 14th amendment guarantees of due process and equal protection. As it is, the American Baptist Homes NLRB decision is certain to be resisted and appealed by business and industry, and will inevitably wind its way up the federal courts.

Even if the Court doesn’t go for those constitutional arguments, it could be ruled to have been “wrong the day it was decided” for having ignored both the plain language of the law, as well as the clear legislative intent. Or the Court could decide that their predecessors acted in the public interest by attempting to “balance” the power of unions and management in 1938, but that the track record of Mackay since 1983 demonstrates that true balance can only be achieved by restoring the right to strike without reprisal.

Or if the Court really wants to weasel out of the controversy, they could lean on the crucial (and crucially forgotten) “protect and continue his business” portion of the initial Mackay dictum—only granting the “right” to permanently replace strikers to employers who can demonstrate that they might go out of business otherwise, or, as in American Baptist Homes, that they have no ulterior union-busting motive.

Not that Julius Getman would necessarily agree with my proposal. “The long existence of the doctrine,” he writes, “its acceptance by Court after Court, and the fact that it has survived attempts to overturn it by amendment all will make it a ward of stare decises, safe even from liberal courts.”

Getman is a brilliant and accomplished legal scholar. I’m just an organizer who argues with lawyers a lot. So, with respect, I don’t see a substantial downside to trying. It was the dogged pursuit of anti-union lawsuits by the right-wing—often, initially, unsuccessful—that helped make Mackay precedent, as well as brought us on the verge of outlawing neutrality agreements and outlawing the union shop in the public sector. It is time that we launched a sustained counter-offensive in the courts.

And what about striking workers who do lose their jobs under the current doctrine? Who could argue against taking every step imaginable to restore their rights and their livelihoods?

What Will It Take To Wake Up the ‘Sleeping Giant’ of the New Working Class?

The American working class has been dissed and dismissed. Our unions busted, our wages slashed, our homes foreclosed and our rents raised. We’re blamed for the rise of Trump, but otherwise do not exist in the media landscape.

But the working class is a sleeping giant that is beginning to stir and will soon instigate a great campaign for racial and economic justice, according to a new book by Tamara Draut. A vice president of the liberal think tank Demos, Draut’s previous book, Strapped: Why America’s 20- and 30- Somethings Can’t Get Ahead, explored the how the high cost of college, housing and health insurance, combined with stagnant wages and made the usual milestones of adulthood increasingly out of reach for millennials.

Her new book, Sleeping Giant: How the New Working Class Will Transform America, attempts to connect the dots between the struggles of those millennials and the politics of austerity, globalization and the massive transfer of wealth to the 1 percent that has reduced the living standards of almost all working families over the course of the last 40 years. It finds a strong sense of optimism in the recent increase in protest activity.

Draut spends a good deal of her narrative making the case that there is still a working class in “post-industrial,” “digital age” U.S.A. The heterogeneity of this new working class—no longer solidly white and male, if it ever was—along with media indifference and a cultural legacy of devaluing “women’s work” and disenfranchising immigrants and people of color renders it “invisible” to many.

Quantifying who is even in the working class, statistically speaking, is a notoriously hard thing to do. She consults with the dean of working-class studies, SUNY Stony Brook professor Michael Zweig, who uses federal occupational data to estimate that 60 percent of us comprise the working class. But most political surveys do not inquire into one’s relationship with the means of production, and so Draut uses educational attainment as a not-unreasonable proxy.

Not that Draut’s tome would fit within the mountain of punditry that emphasizes educational attainment as a cure for poverty. She eviscerates this “elite blind spot” that focuses on the “miniscule” sliver of new professional jobs while ignoring the “scads of new jobs being created in home health care, fast food, and retail.”

Draut is one of the few mainstream writers I’ve seen who has noted the fact that workers are increasingly rejecting the label “middle class” for themselves, while political and media elites still use the term as a shorthand for the ideal American lifestyle. Not noted—perhaps not known—is that when unions do internal polling on political campaigns, questions phrased around improving the lives of middle-class Americans perform significantly worse than identical questions that talk instead about “working families.” Workers hear politicians’ “middle class” campaign rhetoric as promises to give more breaks to people who are already better off than them. (Which probably isn’t that far from the truth.)

The largest class of people in the country demanding their visibility and raising expectations that they deserve more is the very definition of a sleeping giant stirring. Draut sees the “Day without Immigrants” May Day protests, Black Lives Matter and the Fight for 15 as the beginning of a new workers movement. The key, she says, will be working through the historical legacy of racism and sexism to make common cause between these three interconnected movements.

There is perhaps a little too much optimism in Sleeping Giant. After all, the last big May Day strike was over a decade ago at this point. The ground is undeniably shifting, opening up a space for more progressive demands, but it’s not moving all that fast.

Still, since Draut handed in her final draft of this book, millions of voters rallied have to a socialist presidential candidate who will rewrite the Democratic Party’s platform, and the workers at Kohler and Verizon proved that the remaining large industrial unions can still go on strike and win. So the time is right for books that speak confidently that a new workers movement is rising up.

Still, since Draut handed in her final draft of this book, millions of voters rallied have to a socialist presidential candidate who will rewrite the Democratic Party’s platform, and the workers at Kohler and Verizon proved that the remaining large industrial unions can still go on strike and win. So the time is right for books that speak confidently that a new workers movement is rising up.

But it’s not entirely clear who the audience is for Sleeping Giant. While she clearly advocates for more unions, Draut’s treatment of unions is a little too abstract.

The “real power” of unions, she writes, is that they “can amass significant resources to engage in voter turnout, agenda setting and issue advocacy.” That’s a think-tank view of unions. Anyone who’s ever been a part of a workplace job action that resulted in, say, a reduced workload or new safety equipment or got a disrespectful supervisor straightened could take offense at the notion that our “real” power is in our union treasury and checkbook.

Sleeping Giant seems best addressed to the Acela-riding political class: reporters and political staffers who need to learn that the working class still exists and that their “untapped political power” should be heeded. There’s a value to that. One thing that preceded labor’s great upsurge in the 1930’s, ever so slightly, was a rising tide of opinion among intellectuals and political actors that an increase in union power was necessary to stabilize the economy and shore up the Democratic Party’s base.

They can have their reasons for wanting unions, and we’ll always have ours.

The book falters a bit as well when it comes to the “Blueprint for a Better Deal” it advocates. Draut correctly notes that while the demand for a $15 minimum wage was immediately derided as unrealistic, the high bar that the demand set, combined with workplace action, quickly opened up a space that made a range of wage raises politically possible. Curiously, though, her programmatic proposals are safe, moderate, vetted. It includes paid sick and family leave, universal pre-K, tuition-free public college, card check for union organizing and overturning Citizens United.

I’ll take it all, but this is the stuff of a white paper, not a political manifesto. These are transitional demands that have a snowball’s chance in hell in the short term, and that, once the sleeping giant is fully woke and pressing a campaign that looks more like a mass strike wave, would hopefully be traded-in for much more ambitious demands.

Still, Sleeping Giant is a worthy entry in the contemporary progressive canon that should inspire more debate about the world we have to win.

[This article first appeared at In These Times.]

One Day Longer

As the massive strike at Verizon enters its second month with no end in sight, the stakes — for the workers, the company, and the broader labor movement — are rising. Even mainstream media outlets like the New York Times have taken note, casting it as something of an epochal battle over whether the economy can tolerate good jobs that actually deliver economic security and decent benefits.

The strike began on April 13, when forty thousand Verizon landline workers, represented by the Communications Workers of America (CWA) and the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers (IBEW), walked out after nine months of contentious and fruitless contract negotiations. The unions are fighting employer demands to make outsourcing and offshoring jobs easier, as well as cutbacks in health benefits.

Verizon isn’t budging. It opened the month of May by canceling striking employees’ health insurance — an action that was technically legal, but union officials say represents a departure from the past. In the meantime, unions have been helping members patch together emergency health coverage.

These days, a strike of the Verizon action’s scale and duration is exceedingly rare. That’s largely because the stakes for workers are so high. Strikers don’t just lose their pay and benefits — they risk losing their job entirely.

When Congress passed the National Labor Relations Act in 1935, their explicit purpose was to encourage collective bargaining, restrict interference with unions’ right to strike, and prohibit discrimination against workers for union activity. (They were also hoping that by providing an orderly process for union recognition, workers would stop physically occupying corporate property and disrupting commerce.)

But almost immediately after the NLRA’s passage, the courts got to work gutting union rights. In 1939, the Supreme Court decided that “of course” Congress didn’t mean to curtail capitalists’ right to keep their businesses open, and so “of course” employers could hire new workers to permanently replace striking workers. Being replaced, they reasoned, wasn’t the same as being fired or discriminated against.

In the 1980s and ’90s, employers began using this legal precedent in earnest. They’d bargain unions to an impasse, dare them to go out on strike, and then replace workers with scabs. The tactic worked, successfully decertifying much of the unionized industries in the US.

Unions still have limited legal recourse. In the current dispute, the CWA has filed an unfair labor practice charge with the National Labor Relations Board over Verizon’s bargaining conduct — a move that could provide strikers with a measure, but far from a guarantee, of protection against permanent replacement.

Verizon’s machinations underscore workers’ vulnerability. The company is placing full-page ads in newspapers seeking out “temporary full-time technicians” (it claims to have recruited “thousands” of scabs, a figure so vague that even Fortune magazine put it in scare quotes) and attempting to lure workers across the picket line. So far, Verizon boasts, one thousand union members have scabbed. But even if that number is accurate, it would amount to less than 3 percent of the workforce.

One of the reasons the Verizon workers are striking when few other unions are willing to take the leap is that their skills and experience are not easily replaceable. As social media sites like the Stand Up To Verizon Facebook page show with aplomb, scabs are bumbling through their repair work, with often dangerous consequences.

Verizon is willing to cope with the temporary ineptitude because it is intent on facing down the unions. With cell phones supplanting landlines and fiber-optic cables becoming a more lucrative market than Ma Bell’s legacy copper wires, the company wants to quarantine the unions from its growth divisions.

To that end, Verizon has vigorously resisted union organizing attempts at its wireless division — and with much success. While the staff at a handful of wireless stores have organized, none have won a contract.

For their part, the striking unions have extended their picket lines to as many Verizon Wireless storefronts as possible. Any dent they can put in the wireless division’s market share, the unions recognize, is collateral damage for Verizon.

They’ve also fanned out to the legal and political front. Earlier this month, the unions filed federal communications charges against Verizon for its strong-arm tactics in pushing traditional telephone customers to switch to the company’s more modern (and more expensive) fiber optic system.

And they’ve applied carrot-and-stick pressure around the company’s high-speed Fios service, which is in high demand among residential customers — and therefore popular with local politicians — but remains a lower investment priority for Verizon than its non-union wireless division.

In other activity off the picket line, union activists and supporters disrupted Verizon’s May 5 shareholders meeting in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Two hundred and fifty activists protested the confab, including fifteen who engaged in civil disobedience. Union pension voters, representing $1.3 billion in Verizon stock, also forced an ultimately unsuccessful vote on a resolution to curtail executive compensation.

To some extent, workers have benefited from striking in a presidential election year. Bernie Sanders, whose insurgent campaign received its most prominent union endorsement from the CWA, was on the picket line the first day of the strike and has been doing solidarity work ever since. Even Hillary Clinton — no doubt pressured by a surprisingly competitive primary — found a comfortable pair of shoes and joined a picket line.

The optimistic view is that this indicates the resurgence of a long-moribund labor movement.

Last year, the federal Bureau of Labor Statistics, which keeps track of “major work stoppages” (those involving more than one thousand workers), reported a 400 percent uptick in lost working hours over the previous year. The increase represented the high-water mark for strike activity over the past half-decade — and the Verizon strike alone blows that record out of the water.

Yet the strike is also a major test of whether relatively well-positioned workers can withhold their labor and win.

A common chant on picket lines is “One day longer, one day stronger.” That is particularly true of a strike like this one, which is by design and circumstances a war of attrition. The company budgeted for first quarter strike-related profit losses, but admits that a protracted strike could impact the entire year’s bottom line.

The striking workers, of course, face far worse privation. They don’t have shareholders to underwrite their losses. They just have a strike fund (and a solidarity fund). But most workers, unionized and non-unionized, are in even direr straits.

The outcome of the Verizon workers’ strike will therefore be taken as a labor bellwether — for good or ill.

[This article originally appeared at Jacobin.]