J. E. T. Eldridge - Industrial Disputes - Essays in The Sociology of Industrial Relations-Routledge (2003)
J. E. T. Eldridge - Industrial Disputes - Essays in The Sociology of Industrial Relations-Routledge (2003)
J. E. T. Eldridge - Industrial Disputes - Essays in The Sociology of Industrial Relations-Routledge (2003)
INDUSTRIAL DISPUTES
THE SOCIOLOGY OF
WORK AND ORGANIZATION
In 18 Volumes
I Apprenticeship Liepmann
II Industrial Disputes Eldridge
III Industrial Injuries Insurance Young
IV The Journey to Work Liepmann
V The Lorry Driver Hollowell
VI Military Organization and Society Andrzejewski
VII Mobility in the Labour Market JdFY
VIII Organization and Bureaucracy Mouzelis
IX Planned Organizational Change J ones
X Private Corporations and
their Control - Part One LeY
XI Private Corporations and
their Control - Part Two LeY
XII The Qualifying Associations Millerson
XIII Recruitment to Skilled Trades Williams
XIV Retail Trade Associations LeY
xv The Shops of Britain LeY
XVI Technological Growth and
Social Change Hetzler
XVII Work and Leisure Anderson
XVIII Workers, Unions and the State Wootton
INDUSTRIAL DISPUTES
by
J. E. T. ELDRIDGE
First published in 1968 by
Routledge and Kegan Paul Ltd
Reprinted in 1998 by
Routledge
11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE
0 1968 J. E. T. Eldridge
Industrial Disputes
ISBN 0-415-17676-X
The Sociology of Work and Organization: 18 Volumes
ISBN 0-415-17829-O
The International Library of Sociology: 274 Volumes
ISBN O-415-17838-X
Contents
INTRODUCTION I
COMMUNITY 206
APPENDIX A
The Sociology of Work: Trends and Counter-trends 229
APPENDIX B
An Example of a Demarcation Procedural and
Apportionment Agreement 236
APPENDIX C
Status in Steel: A Group Discussion 249
APPENDIX D
The Shop Steward’s Role: A Comment on the North
East of England 2J9
SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY 264
INDEX 269
v
Tables
vii
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS
USED IN THE TEXT
ix
Acknowledgements
on the north east steel industry and the study of the demarcation
dispute in the shipbuilding industry, are two examples of this
approach.
The implications of the steel industry study for a sociological
theory which seeks to explain the frequency and/or intensity of
industrial conflict by primary reference to the technological con-
text of the employment situation, is that, in the light of com-
parative studies, the theory does not fit the facts. The alternative
proposal is put forward that a less tidy but more accurate
explanation of the patterning of industrial relations in the
industry, is to be found in the interaction of cultural, economic
and organisational factors.
A further critique of the theories which relate the nature of
industrial conflict to the type of technology in an over-determin-
istic way, is to be found in the opening chapter. The logical
ambiguities of these theories mirror those involved in more
general ‘economic interpretations’ of history, which Weber so
lucidly exposed :
Wherever the strictly economic explanation encounters difhculties,
various devices are available for maintaining its general validity as
the decisive causal factor. Sometimes every historical event which
is not explicable by the invocation of economic motives is regarded
for that very reason as a scientifically insignificant ‘accident’. At others,
the definition of ‘economic’ is stretched beyond recognition so that
all human interests which are related in any way whatsoever to the
use of material means are included in the definition. If it is histor-
ically undeniable that different responses occur in two situations
which are economically identical - due to political, religious,
climatic and countless other non-economic determinants - then in
order to maintain the primacy of the economic all these factors are
reduced to historically ‘accidental’ ‘conditions’ upon which the
economic factor operates as a ‘cause’ . . .l
Whether this is a just parallel, the reader may judge by reading
not only the critique, but the texts cited in this connection.
In discussions of sociological theories, there is sometimes a
rather sharp distinction drawn between those who see power as
a scarce resource and, in consequence, emphasise the conflicts of
interest which divide society, and those who stress that for society
1 Objectivity in Social Science and Social Policy, in Max Weber, op. cit. p.
70.
8
Introduction
to work at all, there must be some underlying consensus embodied
in a value system which asserts the common advantages to be
obtained in particular forms of social relationships and organisa-
tion. This distinction between the ‘conflict theorists’, such as
Marx and Wright Mills on the one hand, and the ‘functionalists’
such as Durkheim and Parsons on the other hand, no doubt
springs in part from differing images of society. The suggestion
is now being made, however, by writers such as Dahrendorfr
and Lenski, that to posit these approaches as mutually exclusive
is misleading. Dahrendorf, for example argues:
There are sociological problems for the explanation of which the
integration theory of society provides adequate assumptions; there
are other problems which can be explained only in terms of the
coercion theory of society; there are, finally, problems for which
both theories appear adequate. For sociological analysis, society is
Janus-headed, and its two faces are equivalent aspects of the same
reality.3
Now in the study of the demarcation dispute in the ship-
building industry, I have suggested that in certain circumstances
the conflict of interest motif may dominate inter-group relations,
while in other circumstances the mutual advantage considerations
help to explain social behaviour. One of the crucial questions in
this context is why procedures emerged at all to regulate de-
marcation conflicts. In certain respects the answer given re-
presents a synthesis between the functionalist and conflict of
interest perspectives. Given the original conflict over a scarce
resource, namely job opportunities, the disputants first discovered
the degree of real power they possessed, by drawn out attritional
strikes. The parties having thus ascertained in this painful way
where they stood vis-A-vis each other, a search for a less costly
means of settlement then became realistic. In effect, the balance
of power was built into the normative system of conflict regula-
tion. This system can certainly be shown to exercise a constraining
effect on the disputants and to influence the mode of conflict
settlement by emphasising ideas of reciprocal co-ordination
1 R. Dahrendorf, Class and Class Conflict in an Indwhial Society (Routledge
and Kegan Paul, 1959).
2 Lenski, Power and Privilege. A Theov of Social Stratification (McGraw Hill,
I 966).
3 Dahrendorf,.op. cit. p. I 59.
9
Introdt/ction
between groups, but it has to be recognised that the balance of
power between groups is not a once and for all affair. Technical
changes in the industry can affect the bargaining strength of
particular unions and economic downturns can affect the willing-
ness of the craft groups to reappraise the situation by reverting to
strike action. Normative regulation in this context is thus best
viewed as a safety net rather than a strait jacket. There is, in this
respect, something of a dialectic between conflict of interest
concerns and the commitment to procedural forms of conflict
regulation.
One way of attempting to enhance our theoretical understand-
ing of industrial conflict is to examine the methodology which
underpins the theory. This in fact is the strategy pursued in the
first chapter, which critically reviews the explanations offered for
strike activity. There is no need to recapitulate the substantive
conclusions reached there, one can simply indicate the kinds of
question which such a review leads one to ask. What is the
reliability of the statistical data upon which studies of strikes are
based? What is the research design employed to explain a strike
episode, or the incidence of strike activity? What indices are
employed to measure strike activity? Are the concepts utilised in
the research design unambiguous? What empirical generalisations
about strike activity are put forward and what is the nature of
the evidence upon which they are based? What conclusions, if
any, may be drawn from the empirical study of industrial conflict
in developing sociological theory? Ifin the process of considering
these questions, I have shown that there is no universally applic-
able explanation of industrial unrest and that even more specific
propositions are sometimes of dubious status, I will, I hope, by
the same token, have drawn attention to the complexity of the
phenomena under investigation.
Although the phrase ‘sociology of industrial relations’ may
have something of a modern ring about it, it represents in fact
one dimension, albeit an important one, of sociologists’ long-
standing interest in the causes, forms and consequences of the
division of labour in industrial society. In Appendix A, The
Sociology of Work : Trends and Counter-trends, I have suggested
that studies of the impact of machine-based technologies and
bureaucratic organisations on the labour force (manual and
clerical) in the writings of Marx, Engels, Durkheim and Weber,
IO
Introduction
have formed the basis of a tradition of sociological pessimism.
The alienation theme is writ large: the mode of production and
the means of administration are depicted in a way which suggests
that the individual has lost control over the conditions of his
working life. And work as an activity is so broken down into a
minute division of labour that it has lost its meaning for the
individual worker. Moreover, he is so closely circumscribed by
an imposed system of impersonal rules that he may properly be
described as ‘unfree’.
This sociological tradition is not to be lightly discounted.
Nevertheless, more recent sociological writing (for example, that
of Blauner, Burns and Stalker, Crazier, Dalton, Friedmann and
Gouldner) has drawn attention not only to the diversity of work
experiences and situations, but to the fact that differential oppor-
tunities for control of work patterns, creativity, rule formation
and manipulation may be discerned. The differences in the degree
of control which one group of employees may exhibit vis&vis
another, or in relation to their employer may be the product of
many factors. But certainly the struggle to maintain or alter the
frontiers of control is central to the study of industrial relations.
It is to some of the facets of this struggle that I now turn in the
chapters which follow.
II
CHAPTER ONE
Explanations of Strikes
A Critical Review
To consider all strikes as homogeneous occurrences stands in the
way of enlightenment.1
A ‘strike’ is a social phenomenon of enormous complexity which,
in its totality, is never susceptible to complete description, let alone
complete explanation.‘*
A. Preliminary comment
Whatever the logical strengths and weaknesses of particular
explanations of strike activity, one needs to realise that, even at
the level of description the record may be ‘contaminated’. Kuhn
reports, for example, in his American study Bargaining in Grievance
Settlement,1 that few firms kept any statistics on walk-outs. And
he questioned the objectivity of such statistics as were kept. In
one case he compared the management and union records of
work stoppages over a seven year period. He found that although
the trend was similar, the union record was consistently and
markedly below the management’s. He further suggests that there
is not always agreement within the ranks of management as to
what constitutes a stoppage and that, in any case, it is sometimes
thought preferable not to report a stoppage when it does occur.
Kuhn quotes a foreman who did not report a walk-out in his
department because, while it created a difficulty for him, it did
not in fact interfere with production. ‘As long as I get enough
production I’ll take the nuisance.’ One can also recognise that too
many stoppages within a department may be thought to reflect
upon a manager’s or supervisor’s ability to control his work force.
This may well provide an incentive not to report a work stoppage
where this can be avoided.
Many studies of strikes are based upon official government
statistics. As with many social statistics these are collected for
administrative convenience and usage. The research worker at
his more cynical is inclined to feel that they create almost as many
problems as they solve. One finds a certain arbitrariness existing
over basic questions of definition. What constitutes a strike?
Some countries include lock-outs in the definition, whereas others,
more sensibly, separate them. We find also differences between
1 J. W. Kuhn, Bargaining in Grievance Settlement (Columbia, 1961). See
Chapter VII, The Influence of Technology.
I3
Explanations of Strikes
countries in the minimum amount of time lost and/or workers
involved before a strike is officially counted. Ross and Hartman
had to face these and other difficulties in their work on inter-
national comparisons of strike activity. They maintain however,
that the statistics are usable:
When all is said and done, the dissimilarities in methods and defini-
tion are not very great. Furthermore, the conclusions reached in
this study do not require a high degree of precision in the basic
data. The recorded differences in experience among the countries
are so great as to outweigh the relatively minor inaccuracies and
ambiguities in the statistics.’
They found that the Yearbook of Statistics published by the
International Labour Office for the years since 1927, was a most
convenient source of data, since it co-ordinated government
material from many countries. Data from Communist govern-
ments was not, however, available.
The problems of international comparisons were greater for
Kerr and Siegel, since they were concerned with inter-industry
propensities to strike.2 Leaving aside the Communist countries,
they examined data from eighteen countries and found that, for
their purposes only eleven could be included in their analysis.
They found, for example, man-days lost through strikes in
France were published in aggregate but not broken down by
industry; in Denmark, there was an occupational breakdown of
man-days lost, but no industry classification, and that in Canada,
Finland and South Africa, no adequate employment data was
given to match against man-days lost. They were certainly more
cautious in evaluating the status of their findings than Ross and
Hartman :
It should be kept in mind that (the data) reflect the experience of
only eleven countries over a limited period of time and that the
industrial breakdowns are not so numerous or so comparable from
one country to another, or even from one time period to another
in the same country as would be ideally desirable for the purposes
of this analysis.3
r Ross and Hartman, op. cit., pp. 184-q.
a Clark Kerr and Abraham Siegel, ‘The Interindustry Propensity to Strike
-An International Comparison,’ in Arthur Kornhauser, Robert Dubin and
Arthur Ross (eds.) Indust~iulConpict (McGraw Hill, 1954), pp. 18p--212.
9 Ross and Hartman, op cit., p. 189.
I4
Explana f ions of Strz&s
Whether a country chooses to ‘adjust’ its official statistics
because, say, it regards a high strike record as bad for its trading
image, is a matter for speculation, but certainly the mechanisms
by which strike data are collected are likely to vary in efficiency
as between countries. In a relatively under-developed country,
for example, the channels of communication through which
government statistics are obtained and processed, are likely to be
less well established than in the older industrial countries. By the
same token there is more likely to be a shortage of qualified
administrative personnel, which may affect the reliability of the
statistics finally produced. On the other hand, some well estab-
lished administrations may produce statistics which have a mis-
leading precision about them. Thus in the United Kingdom, the
practice has long existed of classifying industrial disputes accord-
ing to their main cause or object. But, as Knowles rightly points
out:
Any such classification must be somewhat subjective, since not only
do most strikes break out on a multipicity of issues, the relative
importance of which may change in the course of the strike, but
the main issue on which the strike is fought may turn out to be
more or less relevant to the real cause of discontent.1
What this really amounts to is that we have a strait-jacketed
account of the reasons people give for striking (strait-jacketed
because only one reason appears in the classification). This is not
without interest and may provide some valuable clues for the
research worker. Indeed, comment is made below on the use
Knowles himself makes of these statistics.2 All that one is con-
cerned to point out for the moment is the weakness of the
classificatory system as a descriptive device. Since it is the kind
of description which encourages explanatory inferences, which
in practice would lay an incorrect emphasis on single factor
explanations and the role of precipitant causes of strikes, the
imperfections of the system of classification need to be made
clear.
The preceding comments draw attention to some of the basic
difficulties involved when making comparative or trend studies
1 K. G. J. C. Knowles, ‘ “Strike-Proneness” and its Determinants,’ in
Walter Galenson and Seymour Martin Lipset (eds.) Labor and Trade Unionism
(Wiley, x960), pp. 301-18. The quotation is from p. 202.
2 See section D of this chapter.
15
Explanations of Strikes
of strike patterns. For different reasons, case studies of particular
strikes present research problems at the level of description. For
example, the method of participant observation may be used: the
research worker interested in industrial conflict may join a par-
ticular firm as an employee in the hope that he will get ‘inside
information’ and ‘the feel of the situation’. But it has to be
recognised that his work obligations may cut across his research
objective of accurate situational observation, since he may be tied
too closely to a particular place. Further his work role, with its
concomitant status implications for the enterprise hierarchy, may
structure the way he is perceived by the various participants in
any dispute which arises. In this way, information from the
‘opposite’ side may be withheld from him. Conversely, he may
not always find it a simple matter to describe events without
treating one group in a dispute more sympathetically than
another. The possibility of having more than one participant
observer, one as manager, another as worker in the case of
management-labour conflicts, would seem to commend itself.
If the research worker comes into the situation without trying
to conceal his research interest (whether as an open participant
observer or interviewer) he may try to cash in on his stranger
value. The ambivalence with which strangers are treated, how-
ever, is suEiciently well known for us to note that, again,
advantages and disadvantages will be found to attach to the
position so far as attaining accurate descriptions of conflict
episodes are concerned. It is the field worker’s task to minimise
the disadvantages and it appears that scientific objectivity is not
always best served by adopting a role of lofty detachment.
Gouldner, for example, studying industrial conflict in a gypsum
mine, found that the miners, when being interviewed, were not
prepared to accept ‘the dependent and passive role involved in
a one-way exchange’ :
The ideal role of the interviewer could be approximated on the
surface (i.e. with surface workers) but it fell flat in the mine. We
tentatively conclude from this experience that the dangers of inter-
viewer ‘over-identification’ and ‘over-rapport’ can be much
exaggerated, and that it is sometimes indispensable to develop
friendly ties with certain kinds of respondents in order to obtain
their co-operation. . . . Deep rapport has its perils, but to treat the
norm of impersonality as sacred, even if it impairs the informants’
16
Explanations of Strikes
co-operation, would seem to be an inexcusable form of scientific
ritualism.r
Dalton came to similar conclusions in his perceptive study
Men Who Manage .2 As a participant observer he found that the
expectations of his work colleagues were such that ‘any straining
toward a detached manner, or pursuit of points with uncommon
persistence would-and did until I learned better - defeat the
purpose’.3 And since he was interested in industrial conflict, he
did not put all his faith in the cool detachment of the interview
situation :
Usually expecting guarded talk, I sought when possible to catch
men in or near critical situations, and to learn in advance when
important meetings were coming up and what bearing they would
have on the unofficial aspects of various issues. Experience . . .
prompted me to get comments or gestures of some kind from
certain people before their feelings cooled or they became wary.4
The point that I am making here is that there is no simple or
mechanical technique available for obtaining descriptions in the
case study situation. This is because adequate description for
sociological purposes involves the attempt to delineate the mean-
ings people attribute to their behaviour and to the situations in
which they find themselves. While certain technical skills are a
prerequisite of successful field work, in the last resort it is the
sensitivity of the research worker in adopting an appropriate
stance in his observer role that conditions the extent to which he
is able to maximise his research opportunities.
We have been looking in these preliminary comments at some
of the inherent difficulties which exist in trying to describe strikes
and strike patterns. We noted earlier some of the problems
associated with the use of strike statistics. Finally, let us consider
the use of qualitative documentary material. First one may
observe that description may be warped through the selection of
documentary materials. This may occur either because some
relevant material is withheld from or not discovered by the re-
17
Explanatiotu of Strikes
searcher; or because the researcher has so much material to handle
that he selects some for the purpose of presentation. Each of
these experiences is common enough in social research. The re-
search worker can, of course, qualify his statements where he is
aware of gaps in the documentary evidence. Likewise, where he
has selected material for presentation he can explain what is
assumed in his criteria of relevance and representativeness. The
second point however is this. As soon as comments are made
about the documentary material we are in the realm of inference
and (tentative) explanation rather than description. The dilemma
is that if one accepts the documentary evidence at its face value
(its manifest content) one’s inferences may be na’ive and mis-
leading; but if one tries to describe its ‘real’ significance, the
grounds for doing so must be clearly articulated. It is then not
enough to say that the documents ‘speak for themselves’. To
continue for a moment in. terms of the dilemma thus posed: to
take the material at its face value commonly leads on to a form
of content analysis. But it may be protested that the objectivity
claimed for this approach is in fact misleading, since by choosing
the categories for analysis, we are in practice imposing our own
meaning structures on to the material. If however, one advocates
the second approach, the meaning of the material is no longer
‘obvious’. On the contrary, one is led on an elusive search, which
one expects to be only partially successful. Thus, as Cicourel has
observed in a more general context:
A newspaper article, public document, radio news story, or tele-
vision commercial may be written under the editorial guidance of
many persons with a variety of differing intentions. The ways in
which such communications are perceived and interpreted by an
audience can vary with the audience and communicator’s normative
conception about their environment at the time of communication;
with different social types of actors who may be in different struc-
tural and locational arrangements in society and oriented to the
communication according to their social identity and official and
unofficial statuses and roles.1
Moreover :
The intentions according to which the communication is produced
l ibid.
2 In Chapter 5 of this volume 1 have made one such attempt.
s John T. Dunlop, Indrrstrinf Kelationr Systems (Holt, 1958).
* ibid., p. 7.
19
Explanations of Strikes
FIGURE I
THE CONCEPTUALISATION OF AN INDUSTRIAL RELATIONS SYSTEM
Industrial
Relations {
System
Actors J ldeology\Rules
Contextual
factors
M denotes interrelation
21
Ex$anations of Strikes
communities, these features are likely to be reflected within the work
place. Special rules respecting discipline, slowdowns, and work
stoppages may arise to constrain this state of affairs at the work
place.’
Now although I have advocated the use of the concept of an
industrial relations system as a helpful analytical tool, it should
be made clear that I am not attempting to smuggle in any assump-
tions about a system necessarily striving to perpetuate itself.
There will be patterned expectations between the actors, wherever
work is actually being produced, but the range, specificity and
stability of those expectations is a matter for inquiry. In sociology,
the sources of conflict and co-operation, order and instability
must have an equally valid claim to problem status. It is perhaps
necessary to underline this since Dunlop’s definitional statement,
that it is the ideology which binds the industrial relations system
together, might give the impression that the systems are ‘naturally’
stable and integrative. Ideology (a much over-worked term by
any count) refers here to the ‘body of common ideas that defines
the role and place of each actor and that defines the ideas which
each actor holds towards the place and function of others in the
system’.2 The extent to which such common ideas actually exist
is, in a sense, a reflection of the extent to which the system may
be regarded as legitimated. It is appropriate too, to observe that
even where there are widespread shared understandings between
the actors in an industrial relation, these may embrace the notion
of legitimate conflict and even, in certain circumstances, striking.
Thus, in the British system of industrial relations it is widely
accepted not only that conflict be regulated as far as possible
through institutionalised settlement procedures, but also that in
the event of failure to agree, after these procedures have been
exhausted, the strike is a legitimate weapon. Thus, although the
government was clearly disturbed about the probable effects of
the 1966 seamen’s strike in aggravating Britain’s balance of pay-
ments problems, its legitimacy was not denied. Mr. Wilson could
portray the seamen’s leaders as wrong-headed, but not as wrong.
In this sense, therefore, there may be certain built-in tolerances
of conflict within the existing system. In this way felt grievances
TABLE I
MEMBERSHIPINVOLVEMENT IN STRIKE ACTIVITY
I 900-29 1930-47 ‘948-16
% % %
Denmark 6.3 2.4 I’4
Netherlands 7’0 z-6 “3
United Kingdom 16.1 6.4 S’9
Germany 14’2 2.6
Norway 27.0 2:; I.2
Sweden 22.7 3’0
France 27.1 29'0 6Z.i
Japan 30’3 39’0 21.1
India - 102'2 37’2
United States 33’2 20’3 15’4
Canada 14.7 13’3 6.3
Australia 18.2 14.8 25'2
Finland 24. S 9’0 13.9
South Africa 24.4 3’9 I.4
Source : Ross & Hartman Changing Patterns of Industrial Conjfict.
24
Explanations of StrikeJ
TABLE 11
AVERAGE DURATION OF STRIKES
1948-56
1900-29 1948-56 as per cent of
(days) (days) 1900-29
Denmark 28.7 4’3 15
Netherlands 32’7 7’5 23
United Kingdom 23.0 4’3
Germany 15.6 9.9 t:
Norway 33.6 13'2 45
Sweden 37’1 22.6 61
France 14’4 2’9 20
India 26.6 8.8 33
Canada 27.1 19’3 71
Australia 14.2 3’2 23
Finland 36.0 15.8 44
South Africa 15.8 2.6 16
Source: Ross & Hartman Changing Patternr qf Industrial Conflict.
I. Organisational stability
(a) Age of labour movement ‘Older movements are more likely to have
completed their struggles for existence,
recognition and security, and to be in-
tegrated into their national economics.
Once this point has been reached, bargain-
ing machinery can be developed to handle
economic issues without frequent work
stoppages.’ (p. 61)
(b) Stability of union mem- ‘Pronounced fluctuations are generally
bership conducive to industrial conflict as the
unions strive to organise and absorb new
members and to settle the most pressing
grievances, or struggle to limit their losses
and recapture their territory.’ (p. 63)
2. Leadership conflicts in the
labour movement:
(a) Factionalism, rival union- ‘The union structure most conducive to
ism and rival federations the elimination of industrial conflict is a
unified national movement with strongly
centralised control. Under these condi-
tions the central leadership can consc-
iously substitute other tactics for the
strike and can restrain the exercise of
power by strong subordinate unions.
(P. 66)
(b) Strength of Communism ‘Where the Communist faction has sub-
in unions stantial strength in the labour movement,
strike activity is usually stimulated - par-
ticularly the use of massive demonstration
strikes.’ (p. 66)
3. Status of union/management
relations
(a) Degree of acceptance by Organisational conflict is minimised where
employers ‘employers and unions have attained an
acceptable balance of power and preroga-
tives.’ (p. 67)
(b) Consolidation of bargain- ‘Multi-employer bargaining is conducive
ing structure to industrial peace.’ (p. 67)
Where ‘the labour market is regulated
and disciplined as a whole . . . the strike
is most likely to wither away.’ (p. 68)
4. Labour political activity
(a) Existence of labour party Labour political action is ‘a deterrent to
as a leading political party strikes.’ (p. 69)
27
TENDENCYSTATEMENT RELATINGTO
FACTOR INDUSTRIAL CONFLICT
4. Labour political activity
(b) Labour party govcrn- ‘If the labour party comes into power the
ments deterrent effect is even stronger.’ (p. 69)
5. Role of the State
(a) Extent of government ‘Greater participation by government as
activity in defining terms entrepreneur, economic planner, guardian
of employment of labor, and supervisor of union-
management relations has been partly
responsible for the declining frequency of
strikes.’ (p. 69)
(b) Dispute settlement poli- ‘Labor protest against public employment
cies and procedure policies or compulsory arbitration awards
is more likely to take the form of brief
demonstrations than actual trials of
economic strength.’ (p. 69)
28
TABLE IV PATTERNS OF STRIKE ACTIVITY AND SOME ASSOCIATED FACTORS
T
Rok of.Stak
(a) (b)
Regddons Interuerrlkn
of terms of in Colkctive
empbyment Bargaining
_-
Limited Active
.-
North I Highly
European II / Nominal Long Old Stable / Subdued Weak Widespread Centralised Yes COINDOn Limited Passive
1 I 1 .-
I
Mediterranean Young (or Limited Not
Asian I High LOW Reorganised) Unstable Marked strong Uncommon Consolidation Unifted NO Marked Passive
.-
I
1. North American I Intermediate Fairly Fairly
1 -High Long Young Stable Subdued Weak Widespread Decentralised No No I Limited Mixed
I
Explanations of Strikes
successful reliance on the political mechanism and in the second
case the constitutional powers of the federal government are too
weak.’
Hence the relevance of the power context and the market context
as delineated in Dunlop’s scheme is illustrated. Indeed, in the
case of Australia, its ‘deviance’ is also related to the character of
its industry-mix - the technological context.
The converse consideration implied in this discussion of the
deviant cases is the fact that the indices of strike activity - in this
instance membership involvement and strike duration - even
when they give similar readings as between countries, may not
be endowed with the same cultural meaning. It is only as different
industrial relations systems are shown to have shared character-
istics, which are combined in similar ways, that one can have any
confidence in suggesting that similar levels of strike activity in
different countries mean the same thing.
To get at the question of the meaning of strikes involves a
historical perspective. Ross and Hartman are aware of this, par-
ticularly when they examine trends of strikes in particular
countries. They suggest that the decline in strike activity, as
measured by their indices, particularly in Western Europe, reflects
the fact that the meaning of the strike as a form of action has
changed considerably :
After the struggles for organisation and recognition had concluded
strikes became trials of economic strength in disputes over terms of
employment. But strike activity has tended to disappear as the
labour market has been more tightly organised, union-management
relations have become more solidaristic, and labour has directed its
activities into the political sphere.2
In other words it is argued that the traditional goals of strikers
have either been realised, or changed in the course of time. Where
these goals have not been attained or where new goals are aimed
for, it is suggested that these may now be more effectively met
by other methods (notably representation in the political sphere).
In considering the adequacy of the Ross and Hartman approach
there are a number of critical points which must be raised.
First, some of the tendency statements on which the study
1 ibid., pp. 68-9.
z ibid., p. 176.
30
Explanations of Strikes
rests are at least problematical. For example, is it really the case
that the consolidation of bargaining structures tends to reduce
industrial conflict ? Multi-employer bargaining may, in certain
respects, be conducive to industrial peace, but not in all. Thus,
the 19j9 steel strike in the U.S.A. accounted for 42 out of 69
million man days lost through strikes in the nation as a whole for
that year. Dubinr maintains that the severity of this strike is
accounted for by the fact that, in power terms, the employers
and the union were equally matched, whilst, at the same time,
the issue at stake was a fundamental one. (A fundamental issue is
here defined as one which cuts across or is not adequately in-
corporated into existing collective bargaining procedures.) In
this instance the employers attempted to establish the contractual
right to make changes in plant operations without the consent of
the union, even though the employment opportunities of the
union membership might be adversely affected. This was held by
the union to cut across their idea of how a contract should be
established and their view of the existing ‘common law’ agree-
ments in the industry.
In an authoritative inquiry, directed by Robert Livernash into
Collective Bargaining in the Basic Steel Indt&y,2 the investigators
comment explicitly on the role of strikes in an industry which,
uncharacteristically for the U.S.A., is based on multi-employer
bargaining :
Most union officials consulted on the matter of single-company
versus industry-wide strikes feel that the former are not feasible.
Basic steel is not a consumer commodity and the source or brand-
name of the product is of little concern to the purchaser. One
industry executive expressed the opinion that his company would
lose a large percentage of its customers if it were struck separately.
A real fear of permanent loss of markets and jobs overhangs the
union’s policy in this regard. Despite certain tactical advantages it
might enjoy from ‘whip-saw’ strikes, the union is deterred by the
success of past practice in industry-wide strikes, the political con-
siderations of placing the strike burden overwhelmingly on the same
locals, and the strong possibility of some sort of industry mutual-aid
plan reducing the pressure on the struck concern. . . . The potential
l R. Dubin, ‘A Theory of Conflict and Power in Union-Management
Relations’, Industrial and Labour Relations Review, Vol. 13, July 1960, pp.
>or-18.
2 U.S. Department of Labor, 1961.
31
Explanations of Strikes
33
Exjlanations of Strikes
There is a widespread assumption that there is little resistance to
trade unionism for manual workers among employers in manu-
facturing industry. Our experience of recruitment of members does
not bear out this assumption.1
The union alleged that of 262 firms visited by union officials in
a recruitment drive, IOO were anti-union in their attitudes, 63
were indifferent and 97 were co-operative. And the union goes on
to make the stronger point that in the Ministry of Labour’s own
evidence submitted to the same Royal Commission, ‘up to 30%
of the differences on which Ministry of Labour conciliation takes
place relate to trade union recognition’.2 A similar kind of
criticism may be made of Ross and Hartman’s contention that in
many countries ‘the strike is no longer a sustained test of economic
strength but a brief demonstration of protest’.s But again one
must ask how valid is this observation when applied to the U.K.?
There are two closely related points that need to be made here.
The first is that tests of economic strength in the U.K. industrial
relations field still take place. This is brought out in Chapter 4
of this volume. And the seamen’s strike, mentioned above is a
good example of its continued existence. No doubt such disputes
are not so frequent as once they were, but that is another matter.
Secondly, the impression conveyed by the Ross and Hartman
observation is that short protest strikes are a recent phenomenon
taking the place of the longer economic disputes. This is mis-
leading since such protest strikes have been an integral part of
the history of labour in this country, as has been well documented
by G. D. H. Cole, E. H. Phelps Brown, H. A. Turner and others.
It would be more accurate to say that what has happened in this
respect is that the decline of wars of attrition between manage-
ment and labour has exposed the rump of shorter protest strikes,
which have been a continuing phenomenon.
The explanation of different national strike patterns in terms of
differences in industry-mix is not given much prominence by Ross
and Hartman. For the greater part of the study industry-mix is
treated as a constant. Only in the case of Australia is it given
much importance, where it is shown that the great bulk of
1 Evidence to the Royal Commission on Trade Unions and Employers’ Associations
(N.U.G.M.W., 1966), p. 21.
2 ibid., p. 26.
9 Ross and Hartman, op. cit., p. 6.
34
Explanations of Strikes
strike activity was located in the coal and docks industries.
It is to the exploration of inter-industry differences in strike
proneness that we now turn. I have postponed until the next
section also the Ross and Hartman thesis concerning the ‘wither-
ing away of the strike’. I conclude this section by observing first,
that the Ross and Hartman approach is a bold and fruitful way of
organising a mass of data at the international level; secondly,
that the configurational approach advocated for explaining
differences in strike patterns is similar to the Dunlop scheme of
delineating industrial relations systems with a (perhaps under-
standable) tendency to over-emphasise the power context, when
explaining differences ; but thirdly, that the approach is marred
by some of the underlying assumptions as reflected in the tendency
statements which have been discussed; and finally, that the
historical perspectives provided to explain the changing meaning
of strikes in particular industrial relations systems are too stereo-
typed to do the job properly.
High Mining
Maritime and Longshore
Medium-High Lumber
Textile
Medium Chemical
Printing
Leather
Manufacturing (general)
Construction
Food and Kindred Products
Medium-Low Clothing
Gas, water and electricity
Services (hotels, restaurants, etc.)
Low Railroad
Agriculture
Trade
Source: Kerr and Siegel, ‘The Inter-industry Propensity to Strike’.
High LOW
Strike t + Strike
Proneness Proneness
37
Ex~~afzafi0n.s of Strikes
However, it is argued that the first three factors noted in Table VI
at the high strike proneness end of the scale, typically provide
the structural conditions which facilitate group cohesion. Thus
the high strike proneness situation is appropriately described as
a condition of cohesivemass segregatioon.But at the other end of the
continuum, not one but two situations are identified. The first is
the condition of commt/nit_yintegration. The second is the condition
of individtlal isolation. If the workers in a condition of cohesive
mass segregation are both willing and able to strike, the com-
munity integration situation emphasises the worker’s lack of
desire or willingness to strike, whereas the individual isolation
condition emphasises the powerlessness of the worker to strike
effectively. What can be said about the character and validity of
this explanation of strike differences? First, it is important to
notice that as an explanation of inter-industry differences in strike
proneness, it is indirect in the following sense. The major concern
is to define the locational characteristics of the worker in society.
It clearly remains a possibility, however, that workers in the same
industry, but different countries, will not be identical in this
respect. This indeed is to be expected in the light of the authors’
own contention that in any one country the willingness or ability
of workers in an industry to strike will change as their location
in the social structure changes. Now in the case of coal mining,
maritime and long-shoring work, their thesis is at its strongest,
since these industries have, over an extended period of time, in
different countries, contained workers who might reasonably be
identified as being in a structural position of cohesive mass
segration.
In other cases the picture is by no means so clear. The steel
industry, for example, in six of the countries surveyed ranked
low in terms of strike proneness, in three countries it ranked
moderate and in one country (the U.S.A.) it ranked medium-high.
In terms of the Kerr-Siegel thesis this must be because the workers
in that industry are more ‘integrated’ in some societies than they
are in others. The steel industry is perhaps a notably deviant case
to use to make the point - so deviant that it is not even classified
in Table V. But it is also the case that industries classified in that
table in the middle range comprise, in fact, some which are con-
sistently medium in all the countries analysed and some which
vary from high to low as between countries. Examples of this
38
Explanations of Strikes
latter group are printing, chemicals, and food and kindred pro-
ducts. With these industries therefore, one is only dealing with a
statistical mean which can scarcely be said to offer an explanation
of inter-industry differences in strike proneness. Only in a
restricted number of cases can one agree with the authors that:
Both the nature of the birth and the trend of development must be
explained by some common causes, for both have been quite uniform
for the same industry from one country to another.’
In the end, it is differences between the same industry in
different countries as well as the similarities which have to be
explained. Clues to these differences are, however, to be found in
the Kerr and Siegel analysis. The marks of worker integration
into the wider society, they suggest, are the acceptance of trade
unions by employers, by the government and by the community
at large. These broad status considerations are delineations of the
power context, as indicated in the Dunlop industrial relations
system. And we may notice also that they have much in common
with the Ross and Hartman analysis, where these factors are seen
as conducive to a reduction in industrial conflict.
It is interesting to observe that both Ross and Hartman and
Kerr and Siegel comment on the declining rate of strike proneness
in the western world. Kerr and Siegel say that this is because
the process of worker integration into the wider society is
becoming widespread:
The ‘homeless, voteless, womanless’ worker is now the rare excep-
tion, and the workers and their institutions share now in the
operation of society.=
For Ross and Hartman, the ‘withering away of the strike’ has
occurred because :
First, employers have developed more sophisticated policies and
more effective organisation. Second, the state has become more
prominent as an employer of labour, economic planner, provider
of benefits, and supervisor of industrial relations. Third, in many
countries (although not in the U.S.A.) the labour movement has
been forsaking the use of the strike in favour of broad political
endeavour.3
1 ibid., p. xz.
2 ibid., p. 204.
3 Ross and Hartman, op. cit., p. 42.
D 39
Explanations of Strikes
There is, however, an element of industrial conflict which tends
to be played down by the withering strike thesis. While strike
proneness, measured in terms of average duration and man-days
lost, may be declining, this does not give any indication of what
is happening purely in terms of strike frequency. It is quite
possible in that sense that the strike might be flourishing rather
than withering.
The Kerr-Siegel thesis, as we have seen, in the discussion of
high strike-proneness, lays great emphasis on the isolated hom-
geneous mass of workers as the source of such activity. The
authors rightly point out that many general strikes in a number
of countries have developed from groups such as miners, dock-
workers and textile workers. In doing so they are stressing the
severity of such conflict and, since the workers feel alienated
from the values of the wider society, its revolutionary potential.
But strike activity may be derived not so much from deep social
divisions, but from groups of workers with more localised, albeit
strongly held, feelings of relative deprivation. Thus we may find
groups of workers seeking to challenge existing managerial pre-
rogatives. The application or interpretation of particular work
rules may be questioned, and changes in wage differentials be-
tween groups of workers may be seen as a threat to the existing
status system in a factory and even regarded as ‘unjust’.
This suggests that other considerations are necessary to fill in
some of the gaps in the generalised statements of both Ross and
Hartman, and Kerr and Siegel.
A slightly more elaborate measure of strike proneness, designed
to bring out inter-industry differences, is used by Knowles in the
context of the U.K.’ Working on the Ministry of Labour’s
classification of immediate causes of strikes, he suggests that these
causes may be fruitfully grouped into the following three
categories :
I. Basic issues :
(i) Wage increase questions
(ii) Wage decrease questions
(iii) Other wage questions
(iv) Hours of labour
4o
Explauatiotts of Strikes
2. Frictional issues :
(i) Employment of certain classes of persons
(ii) Other working arrangements, rules and discipline
3. Solidarity issues :
(i) Trade-union principle
(ii) Sympathetic action
He then proposes that inter-industry differences in the propensity
to strike be considered in these three dimensions. In making such
comparisons, the relative propensity of strikers in a particular
industry to be involved in strikes of one type of issue is expressed
as a ratio between the percentage of strikers in the industry who
came out on that issue and the percentage of strikers in all other
industries who were so involved. As an example of this kind of
approach, I have inserted Table VII.
TABLE VII
RELATIVE PROPENSITYTO STRIKE ON DIFFERENT TYPES
OF ISSUE 1927-36
43
Explatzations of Strikes
crucial variable for Kuhn is the technological context. Instead of
the cohesive isolated mass of the Kerr-Siegel thesis, we have the
cohesive work group as the source of strike proneness. Kuhn
spells out the technological circumstances in which such a group
is most likely to be found:
The technology most conducive to fractional bargaining has the
following characteristics : First, it subjects a large portion of workers
to continued changes in work methods, standards, or materials as
they work at individually paced jobs. Second, it allows workers a
considerable degree of interaction with others in their task group
as they work at their distinctive and specialised semi-skilled or
skilled jobs. Third, it groups most of the work force into several
nearly equal-sized task departments. And fourth, it requires con-
tinuous rigidly sequential processing of materials into one major
type of product.
The first and second of the above characteristics stimulate willing-
ness of members of the work group to engage in fractional bargain-
ing. The third tends to weaken the political authority of the local
union over the work groups, and the fourth enables the work group
to disrupt the plant’s total production at a cost to itself which is
small in relation to the cost it inflicts upon management.1
Kuhn’s own fieldwork on which his conclusions are based is
mainly centred on a comparative study of workers in the rubber
tyre and electrical equipment industries in the U.S.A., over the
period 1947-59. The far greater tendency of workers in the
rubber tyre industry to participate in fractional bargaining
activity, in his judgment, confirmed his thesis. In consequence
he concludes that:
Technology determines the ability of workers to press their demands
and greatly affects their willingness to formulate demands.2
Now this explanation of industrial conflict pays more attention
to the number of points of friction and hence is more concerned
with strike frequency as such. In this respect it does seem to
provide a valuable corrective to those who too readily propound
the withering strike thesis. It is also important because one can
more readily see that in certain industries, even if the worker can
be shown to have become more integrated into the wider society
44
Explanations of Strikes
in terms of the Kerr-Siegel thesis, the technology of the situation
might still give rise to frictional conflict. And other industries
which might not be characterised as highly strike prone at all on
the Kerr-Siegel thesis, might score highly when analysed in
terms of their fractional bargaining activity.
But if there are differences between industries in terms of strike
patterns, there are also differences between firms in the same
industry. As we turn now to consider these, it will become
evident how, in some respects, they also compound the problem
of explaining differences between industries.
II
Explanations of Strikes
the case study. In this way one is able to trace sequences of change
in an industrial relations system over a period of time. By
analysing strikes in this way, through the study of concrete social
processes, one hopes, in particular, to know the part played by
the different meanings which differently placed actors in the
system attach to the changes that do occur.
The three American studies, which I now discuss, have enough
in common to give them a family resemblance. But the similarities
will also serve to throw into sharp relief some notable differences.
This strike, forms the subject of Warner and Low’s study The
Social System of a Modern Factoty.2 One of the central questions
raised is this: why, in a community with a long history of in-
dustrial peace, did all the workers in the town’s largest industry
come out on strike in such a determined way? As with the Loray
mill study, the answer is given in terms of the factors which led
to the disintegration of a particular kind of industrial relations
system, namely, localised, paternalistic capitalism:
In the early days of the shoe industry the owners and managerial
staffs of the factories, as well as the operatives, were residents of
Yankee City: there was no extension of the factory social structures
outside of the local community. The factories were then entirely
under the control of the community - not only the formal control
of city ordinances and laws, but also the more pervasive informal
controls of community traditions and attitudes. There were feelings
of neighbourliness and friendship between manager and worker and
of mutual responsibilities to each other and the community that
went beyond the formal employer-employee agreement.3
Essentially Warner and Low attempt to describe both the
changes which took place in the social and economic organisation
of the industry and the meaning which these changes had for the
participants. Among the structural changes taking place may be
noted :
1 ibid., p. 13.
2 W. L. Warner and J. 0. Low, The Social Sydem of a Modern Factory (Yale,
1940
a ibid., p. 108.
58
E.x$lanatiam of Strikes
I. A shift in the composition of the consumer market. No
longer did the industry exist to meet local or regional needs: it
was caught up in a national and international market structure.
Factory output became heavily dependent upon large chain-stores
for retail distribution.
2. The attempt to meet expanding market opportunities had
originally been a source of stimulation among manufacturers to
technological innovation. This had led, in the course of time, to
the replacement of hand tool methods of work by machine tools
and, ultimately, by assembly line techniques. Mass production
both met and quickened the demands of the mass market. There
was, in consequence, an erosion and virtual disappearance of
traditional craft skills. Unskilled labour was sufficient to perform
the repetitive monotonous tasks of the ‘modern factory’.
3. However, the financing of a more capital intensive industry
to meet these wider market demands became increasingly difficult
for local capitalists to sustain. The advent of ‘Big City’ capitalism
signified the advent of absentee ownership. And the local industry
became just a link in the great chain of industrial ownership and
just another member of a national manufacturers’ association.
4. At the same time as the division of labour is simplified
among the workers, it is diversified and extended among manage-
ment. In order to cope with the complexities of marketing and
distribution functional differentiation took place. Not only is the
local manager in the community no longer the owner-manager,
but also his direct relation with his customers disappears. The
managers in direct contact with the market are to be found in
the head offices at New York (Big City). The local manager is
not master in his own house, he is an intermediary in the enter-
prise hierarchy with immediate responsiblities for production.
The bureaucratisation process is seen by Warner and Low, not
only as changing the locus and distribution of managerial power
but as creating a hiatus in the traditional pattern of authority
relations. Absentee ownership symbolised absentee and alien
power, which was not geared to serving, nor readily constrained
by, the needs of the local community. Thus they observe:
When a factory is locally owned the owner and supervisory staff
are likely to be influenced in many of their decisions regarding
factory policy by the broader community values to which they sub-
scribe and by the fact that many of their employees are old acquaint-
39
Explanations of Strikes
antes and friends. But when a factory is absentee-controlled few or
none of the workers are ever known to the higher officials and the
latter do not feel the pressures that a local owner would feel to
conform to the values of the community. Hence the absentee official
can set factory policies more nearly in strict accord with the profit-
making logic than a local owner, and to that extent the community
loses control over the factory and becomes dependent on outside
influences.l
The local managers at Yankee City, sons of the owner-managers
of the previous generation, are portrayed as shorn of their
effective power. They were stalked by the god-like figures of
their dead fathers who symbolised the security of a community
way of life which, to a large degree had been economically
independent. Their awareness of their weakening power was
indeed one factor which lowered the resistance of local manage-
ment to the demands of the strikers. They also resented the over-
riding dominance of the ‘outsiders’ and ‘foreigners’ in whose
hands the uncertain destinies of the community now lay. To that
extent the strike was not only a worker response but a community
response to its growing dependence on the exigencies and com-
plexities of the wider economic system.
By the same token, since the reciprocal ties and obligations,
which once existed between local management and their work
force, could no longer be sustained, because of the decline in
local managerial power, then the authority of local management
could no longer go unquestioned. But whose authority could
be obeyed?
It is certain that decisions charged with ruin or success for the
economy of Yankee City and the stability of the lives of its people
are made by men at the policy level of . . . international finance
houses who do not so much as know the name of Yankee City and
who beyond all doubt, do not care what happens to the town or
its people.2
The strike was a sign of a lack of faith in an impersonal, distant,
profit-oriented and unsympathetic power. When the depression,
to which the industry was particularly vulnerable took place, the
standardised response of the employers was to resort to wage-
cuts. This became the immediate source of worker grievance. As
l ibid., p. 179.
z ibid., p, 156.
60
Explanations of Strikes
such the employers’ action was a precipitant cause of the strike.
But the question still remains, why was the grievance manifested
in strike action as opposed to more amorphous and diffuse forms
of discontent ? What was it that made the work force both willing
and able to strike? The answer lies in tracing out the meaning
and consequences of the breakdown in the traditional craft system.
It is the craft system which is portrayed as providing the mechan-
ism for advancement of the individual worker. One aspired to
become a master craftsman: starting as an apprentice and gaining
proficiency in the basic skills, one moved onward and upward in
the craft hierarchy. There was typically a close correlation between
the age of a worker, his proficiency and skill level, his prestige
and his pay. If age allied to skill was the basis of social differen-
tiation among the work force, knowledge of the craft of shoe-
making was something to strive for, and it provided the basis of
one’s own self-respect and respect for others in the shoe-making
fraternity. Traditionally, one could, as a worker, entertain the
hope of becoming one’s own boss. In this sense the gap between
worker and owner-manager could be bridged. By the same token,
those who did become owners in this way could command the
respect of their workers since, by definition, they knew what
shoe-making was about. It is in this sense also that Warner and
Low can say:
Workers and managers were indissolubly interwoven into a common
enterprise, with a common set of values. In this system the internal
personal structure of workers and managers was made up of very
much the same aparatus,and their personalities were reinforced
by the social system of shoe-making.’
The changes in the industry, undertaken in the quest for
economic rationality, served to destroy the sense of communality
between managers and workers, the craft system itself and the
career pattern and way of life which this embodied. But a new
kind of work solidarity is created - a solidarity of the deprived
and the downwardly mobile, who, by virtue of their new-found
homogeneity, can more readily express a mass grievance. Further-
more, in such circumstances, the industrial union becomes an
alternative and attractive source of allegiance and bargaining
power. Indeed, the strike which began as a widespread but
* ibid., pp. 87-B.
GI
Explanations of Strikes
relatively unorganised expression of worker protest against
managerial behaviour, was taken over by the union and became,
in addition, a battle for union recognition.
The Loray mill strike, after a period of bitter struggle, resulted
in a victory for the employers. The Yankee City strike resulted
in a victory for the workers in the sense that, not only did
management agree to submit the wage grievances to an arbitra-
tion inquiry, but they also recognised the negotiating rights of
the union from that time forward. The difference between victory
and defeat in the two situations appears to be not simply a matter
of luck. In the Loray situation, the union had been a revolutionary
ginger-group, with an ideological commitment which did not
dispose it to make compromise settlements. It effectively organ-
ised the workers’ protest. But not all workers, as we have seen,
shared the deep commitment to the Communist aims of the union.
Hence as the strike was prolonged, doubt was cast on the
instrumental value of the union to remedy grievances, and the
more traditionally-minded workers were prepared to accept the
discredit and calumny which was heaped upon the union’s leaders.
Disaffection set in and the strike was broken. By contrast, the
industrial union to which the workers at Yankee City attached
themselves, was, as Stein has pointed out, ‘essentially a responsive
counter-bureaucracy through which workers as a group improve
their common lot’.l
1910
Alvin Gouldner’s Wildcat Strike has already become something
of a sociological classic. It is an attempt to describe and explain
a strike which broke out at a gypsum mine in Oscar Centre
(a pseudonym for a small community near the Great Lakes).
Certain similarities as well as differences with the preceding two
cases will emerge.
One important social process underpinning much of Gouldner’s
analysis is the shift in the character of management-worker
relations from a ‘leniency’ to a ‘stringency’ pattern. Traditionally,
within the plant certain expectations about how management
l A. Stein, The Eclipse of Communify (Harper, 1964). p. 89.
62
Explanations of Strikes
should behave towards workers had been built up by the
employees. These included not only the ‘rights’ of workers as
written into the labour contract, but other matters of more
tenuous legitimacy:
Workers did not define ‘leniency’ as a management obligation.
Instead leniency seems to refer to managerial compliances with
workers’ role preferences rather than role prescriptions. Further-
more, ‘leniency’ also involves managerial behaviour which is
tempered by taking into account the worker’s obligations in his
other roles, for example, his obligations as a family member to
maintain the family’s income, to fix broken things around the house,
or to leave work early to take ‘the wife’ on a special outing.1
Among the components of the indulgency pattern Gouldner
cites, was the willingness to give workers a ‘second chance’ when
they broke the company ruling on absenteeism or lateness, the
permission given to use company materials and equipment for
home repairs, and letting an injured worker come back on light
duties before he was fully recovered, so that he might get more
income than he could derive from accident compensation.
Gouldner does not use the term ‘paternalistic capitalism’ to
describe the ideology of the industrial relations system as Pope
and Warner and Low had done, but he does stress in a similar
fashion the personal ties that had characterised the social relations
in the community. He suggests that the community embodied
an egalitarian ethos, which reduced the potential social distance
existing between men and management (and particularly between
the men and first line supervision). The virtues of neighbour-
liness in a small community were carried over into the work
situation.
What Gouldner attempts to do is to describe the way in which,
on the one hand, the managerial interpretation of work obliga-
tions moves away from a position which has external support
from the community at large, while, on the other hand, the
cohesiveness of the community and its regulatory power of social
control is itself diminished. These two social processes are seen as
mutually reinforcing the other. But it should be noted that strains
on the community value system were not solely generated from
the company. Gouldner comments, for example, that ‘with the
64
Explanations of StnXes
of some workers, more deliberate restriction of output on the
part of others and, ultimately, the strike itself. The attempt to
introduce even closer and stricter supervision to deal with the
problem simply had the boomerang effect of lowering work
motivation and increasing aggressive feelings still further. Manage-
ment clearly thought, at the outset of its programme, that it had
the power to implement its decisions, even if some of them might
prove unpalatable to the work force. This was mainly based on
their knowledge that there were few alternative job opportunities
available at Oscar Centre. Indeed, they were even confident
enough to re-route an important export order to Oscar Centre,
from the strike-bound ‘Big City’ plant. This also had an unin-
tended consequence. To the workers at Oscar Centre the re-
routing episode symbolised the fact that the company’s orders
could be flouted and its power challenged. It reinforced grievance
feelings on the grounds that ‘we’re not the only ones who feel
this way’ and helps to explain the timing of the strike and the
fact that discontent was not simply expressed in more covert
ways.
It was not only the management’s ability to implement its
rationalisation policy which was challenged, however, but more
basically the legitimacy of its authority. The policy emanated, as
we have seen, from the company’s head oflice at Lakeport. This
at one and the same time emphasised the fact of external control
over the destinies of the work force resulting from absentee
ownership and, by the same token, encouraged the workers to
question the authority of plant management who were regarded
as puppets.
The strike is defined by Gouldner in sociological terms as a
‘breakdown in the flow of consent’.’ The social disruption, which
the strike reflected and symbolised, is seen as a consequence of
trying to ‘free’ the labour contract from the social ‘givens’ which
made it effective in the first place, namely, the shared traditional
beliefs and values in the community from which workers had
derived their complementary expectations. The attempt to sharpen
the terms of the labour contract, with precise and often written
statements about the duties and obligations of the worker, served
to highlight the conflict between these legalistic demands and the
traditional social supports which had sanctioned worker obed-
1 ibid., p. 66.
65
Exjdanatiom of Strikes
ience in the first place. The conflict which emerged is an
illustration of the fact that the ‘non-contractual element of
contract is . . . a system of common beliefs and sentiments’
which forms ‘an essential element in the basis of order in a
differentiated, individualistic society’.1
How then could the flow of consent be restored between
workers and management. J Two kinds of answers were in
evidence, classified as the traditionally-oriented and the market-
oriented respectively :
If the traditionalists sought to return to a relationship governed by
‘trust’, then the ‘market-men’ desired a situation in which trust did
not matter; they wanted their prerogatives guarded by legal guaran-
tee. If the traditionalists wanted to be able to return to the ‘fold’,
the ‘market-men’ wanted to be ‘taken into the business’. If the
traditionalists wanted workers and management to be ‘friends’, the
market-men wanted them to be ‘partners’. In sum, the traditionalists
wanted a return to the old indulgency pattern, while the ‘market-
men’ were willing to set aside the informal privileges of the
indulgency pattern in exchange for new, formally acknowledged
union power.2
Both of these positions represent an attempt to put certain
‘social givens’ into the labour contract. The traditionalist hopes
to restore the original social givens of the community norms and
values. The market man sees in the emergence of collective
bargaining structures a means of containing conflict and regulat-
ing the conditions of the ‘effort bargain’. Given the economic
and social changes that had already impinged on the community,
the first response was ritualistic rather than realistic. The second
aim was realistic in the context, but, given the fact that the labour
contract was conditioned by changing market and technological
forces, an element of instability is built into the system. Such
frictional conflict as ensues may be regarded as a reflection of
the politics of the work-place.
Unlike the Loray mill and Yankee City situations, the plant
was already unionised. But the strike was a ‘wildcat’ -that is it
took place without explicit union consent. Whereas in the Yankee
City study we observed how the union was utilised as a counter-
1 Talcott Parsons, The Structure of Social Action (Glencoe Free Press, 1g4g),
P* 338.
a Gouldner, Wi/dcat Strike, op. cit., p. 63.
66
Explanations of Strikers
bureaucracy to fight the impersonal, bureaucratic power of
management, in this instance the workers find themselves
estranged from the counter-bureaucracy as well. While then, as
we have seen, the strike symbolised a breakdown in the com-
munity-plant complex of norms and values, it also pointed to the
felt inadequacy of the existing grievance machinery. A different
kind of legitimacy crisis is implied:
When the formal union leaders are oriented toward managerial
expectations, and when they, therefore view certain of the workers’
grievances as non-legitimate, they may actually impair upward
communication1
If the labour contract is subject to scrutiny and re-negotiation
between management and labour, in the view of the market-men,
so also is the contract binding the union and the rank and file
together. What was once an acceptable grievance process need
not always remain so.
But one thing stands out clearly. If we ask whether the strike
was against management or against the union, the answer is that,
for different reasons, it was against both.
1 ibid., p. 102.
67
CHAPTER TWO
Unofficial Strikes
69
Unoficiaal Strikes
out the rigidity with which the sanction against unofficial strikes
is applied. In the context of this union there can scarcely be such
a phenomenon as the quasi-official strike. By comparison, even
the N.U.G.M.W., which can scarcely be described as militant,
has had officials who have warned stubborn managements that
unless a concession is made ‘they cannot be responsible for the
actions of their members’. As Clegg points out in his study on
the General Union:
On occasion, officers have been known to suggest to a shop steward
that a demonstration of the validity of this kind of statement by
their members would be of assistance in their negotiations.1
A very useful test enabling one to distinguish between the
quasi-official and the pure unoflicial strike is whether or not
dispute benefit is paid. Payment of dispute benefit is the mark
of ultimate justification. In the T.U.C.‘s own report unofficial
strikes were essentially regarded as those in which a dispute
benefit was not paid.2 One might also add, however, that there
are cases where a dispute benefit as such has not been paid to
strikers but an ex gratia payment has been given. In this way a
union’s policy about the non-payment of dispute benefit to strikes
that take place without official union sanction, can be circum-
vented. Such strikes also are clearly quasi-official.
It is important to recognise that what we have termed quasi-
official strikes are not always felt to be unofficial strikes. Thus
W. Gallacher separated unofficial strikes from spontaneous
strikes over trade union principles - ‘such a strike is often
necessary when something occurs leaving only the option of
submitting or fighting’.3 These might be described as ‘perishable
disputes’, where speed of action is placed at a premium by the
strikers. They might arise in circumstances where it is either
impossible to contact the union official, or where it is felt that by
the time the issue has gone through the negotiating procedure
the battle will have been lost. Perishable disputes might arise in
relation to such matters as the upholding of a closed shop
principle, objections to manning arrangements or other conditions
of work which were felt to be contrary to existing agreements
70
UnoJkial Strikes
and so on. Not all spontaneous strikes, therefore, need be re-
garded as wildcat strikes.1
A former Minister of Labour, Mr. Hare (now Lord Blakenham)
showed that he was aware of some of the pitfalls that await those
who try to define the unofficial strike. In the House of Commons
on 21 May 1962, he pointed out that:
There are difficulties in defining and classifying strikes as official
and unofficial. . . . Some strikes start as unofficial and end as official.
Some are official only when they are over. Some are official at
district level and are repudiated at headquarters. It is difficult to
give the breakdown.2
It is, however, a pity that only when specific questions are
asked in the House of Commons, does the Government make
any attempt to discover the incidence of unofficial strikes. It is
now a decade ago that Knowles suggested that the Ministry of
Labour improve its strike statistics by introducing a distinction
between official and unofficial strikes.3 He was thinking par-
ticularly of isolating the pure unofficial strikes, in order that the
extent to which the unions used the strike weapon as an instru-
ment of policy could be ascertained. Doubtful cases, he suggested,
could be classified as such. Despite the difficulties which Mr. Hare
outlined, it might still prove a rewarding and worthwhile
exercise. In the House of Commons Mr. Hare revealed that in
1961, three million days were lost through all strikes reported to
the Ministry of Labour. 4 Of these about 860,000 days were lost
through strikes which were definitely stated to be official. On
this reckoning 71% of time lost was through unofficial strikes.
These would mainly refer to pure unofficial strikes because many
of the quasi-official strikes would subsequently have been declared
official.
The categories around which the following discussion is hinged
are not regarded as water-tight. But they do provide a useful
framework and should serve to reduce some of the confusion
1 Seep. 78 below for a discussionof the wildcat strike.
a Hansard (May Ig6z), Vol. 660, col. 8.
8 op. cit., p. 305.
4 These refer to strikes involving ten or more workpeople and lasting for
one day or more. The aggregate number of days lost exceed IOO. Countless
small stoppages which characterise many unofficial strikes are thereby
excluded.
F 71
Un@iciaZ Strikes
that surrounds a rather controversial subject in which the
emotions rather than the intellect are the first to be stirred.
SocioZogt2aZO&ections
A number of sociological objections to unofficial strikes are rooted
in certain theories of conflict. In industrial sociology one form
of this is to be found in the style of thinking which tends to
assume that management/labour conflict can and must be
eliminated by ‘good’ human relations. Writing on ‘The Perspec-
tives of Elton Mayo’ Reinhard Bendix and Lloyd N. Fisher
argue that:
It is difficult to understand Mayo’s work unless one realises how
much he abhors conflict, competition or disagreement: conflict to
him is a ‘social disease’ and co-operation is ‘social health.1
This, perhaps, does less than justice to Mayo’s position but the
statement illustrates the type of theoretical approach we have in
mind. Landsberger 2 has reasonably noted that the epithet
‘management-oriented’ with which the Mayo school is dubbed
is more readily applicable to the Michigan studies of supervision
in industry and the Group Dynamics approach typified in Coch
and French’s ‘Overcoming Resistance to Social Change’.3
But the existence of authority relationships both within and
between particular social groups, which gives rise to real and
perceived differences when the costs of prescribed courses of
behaviour are evaluated, strongly suggests the inevitability of
conflict both at the social psychological and sociological level.
Certainly when one looks at the field of industrial sociology the
power element is far more evident than in some other areas of
sociological investigation. Yet, as John Rex has indicated:
Anyone with experience of industrial relations knows that the actual
relations between employers and employees are determined by a
contract which ends a period of negotiations in which both sides
are likely to deploy their powers in threatening strikes and lock
outs. Yet very often industrial sociology ignores ail this and discusses
the social relations of a factory as though they were akin to those of
1 R. Bendix and L. N. Fisher, ‘The Perspectives of Elton Mayo’, Review of
Economic.r and Statistics, Vol. 31, 1949, p. 272.
2 Henry A. Landsberger, Hawtborne Re-hited (Cornell, 1918).
* L. Coch and J. R. P. French, ‘Overcoming Resistance to Social Change’,
Human Relations, 1948, I, pp. 1x2~33.
72
Ufloj%aal Strikes
a village community, in terms of some sort of value framework
which is supposed to be accepted by both sides.1
This statement acts as a useful bridge to a sociological objection
which is rather more convincing. While strikes and lock outs
have always been a feature of the industrial relations landscape,
some observers are questioning whether they are a necessary
feature. The international comparisons of Ross and Hartman in
Changing Patterns of Indtistrial Confict2 show that in most countries
there has been a reduction in the number of days lost through
strike activity in the last 25 years. This trend provides grounds of
hope for those who believe that the strike will become outmoded
in mature industrial societies. B. C. Roberts, for example, argues
that:
The relative scarcity of major strikes will make the occurrence of
small protest strikes of greater significance and will probably induce
demands for some form of compulsory arbitration . . . when there
are many strikes arbitration is impossible, but when there are very
few there seems to be much less reason for letting them occur.8
It is not social conflict per se that is denied or abhorred, but
social conflict that expresses itself in strike action. The regulation
of conflict through collective bargaining procedures is advocated
in order that the sharper forms of social antagonisms might be
avoided, for, as Dahrendorf suggests:
Conciliation, mediation and arbitration and their normative and
structural prerequisites are the outstanding mechanisms for reducing
the violence of class conflict. When these routines of relationship
are established group conflict loses its sting and becomes an insti-
tutionalised pattern of social life.4
But it is precisely the normative and structural prerequisites
that need to be established before the mechanisms of conciliation,
mediation and arbitration are more acceptable to potential strikers
than the use of the strike weapon. There would appear to be at
1 J. Rex, Key Problems of Sociological Theory (Routledge and Kegan Paul,
1961), p. III.
2 Ross and Hartman, Changing Patterns of Industrial ConJ%ct(Wiley, 1960).
s B. C. Roberts, Indxrtrial Relations: Confemporary Problems and Perspectives
(Methuen, 1962), p. 17.
4 R. Dahrendorf, Class and Class Conflict in an Industrial Society (Routledge
and Kegan Paul, 1959), p. 230.
73
Unoj%iaal Strikes
least two presuppositions before the superiority of these mechan-
isms over the strike in general and the unofficial strike in par-
ticular can be admitted. The first presupposition is an acceptance
in principle of the broad outlines of the existing industrial order
by the major interest groups. Without this there will be an
insufficient consensus of opinion for the collective bargaining
procedures to work effectively. Where the legitimacy of an order
is being questioned by any of the major interest groups, an appeal
for industrial peace which would buttress that order can scarcely
expect to be heeded. The strike weapon is held to be justified, in
such a situation if it brings about the desired re-distribution of
rights, duties and privileges. This is the source of the political
strike. The Court of Inquiry into the Dispute in Civil Air Trans-
port in 195 8 admitted the possibility of the intrusion of political
issues into the field of industrial relations. The Court deplored
the use of industrial action for political ends, indicating that this
was ‘not compatible with the development of harmonious in-
dustrial relations and the smooth working of constitutional
procedures’.
The second presupposition is that the procedures of concilia-
tion mediation and arbitration are efficient, representative and
in some meaningful sense ‘fair’. Efficiency here refers to the speed
at which decisions are taken and communicated back to the
interested parties. Representativeness implies that, not only do
the interested parties have someone to plead their case, but that
the spokesman should understand the issues involved and be
trustworthy in his conduct of the case. The cleavage between the
style of life of the professional negotiator and the rank and file
member of the trade union has not escaped the attention of
commentators since the Webbs. This gives rise to a latent fear
that the negotiator will join ‘them’ and sell his group ‘down the
river’. The need for constitutional safeguards to keep this fear
in check is clear. Thus, Sir William Carron, at the annual con-
ference of the A.E.U. in 1961, replying to a claim that the
executive committee of the union had flouted a national com-
mittee resolution, maintained that:
In this extremely democratic union all members can have redress
by taking the executive to the final appeal court if it breaks the
ru1es.l
l The Guardian, 28 April I~GI.
74
Unoj%cial Strikes
The national committee here is the fifty-two man rank and file
committee. The barbed retort of Mr. W. Fleming, one of the
delegates, serves to illustrate the point that such constitutional
safeguards must be properly maintained if the professional leaders
are to be regarded as truly representative:
The final appeal court is supposed to over-rule the executive, but
when they over-rule them and the executive doesn’t like it, the
executive over-rules the final appeal court. So where are we? In
Fred Karno’s Army.1
The concept of ‘fairness’ is not susceptible to precise definition.
But in broad terms we suggest that it implies that, under existing
procedures, where gains and losses are involved, the parties
concerned should have a roughly equal share of them. Where
one union was constantly losing work as a result of decisions
under demarcation procedures, for example, one might safely
predict the advent of official or unofficial strikes. The concept of
fairness is therefore, concerned with the distribution of decisions
but it is also derived from the ideas of efficiency and representa-
tiveness. The expression of sentiments such as ‘it’s not fair that
the men should be kept waiting,’ or ‘we shouldn’t be kept in
the dark about what’s going on’, or ‘it’s only fair that our point
of view should be heard’, illustrate this.
Apart from the sharing of gains and losses referred to above,
it can also be maintained that there are situations in which the
use of collective bargaining procedures leads to outcomes that are
strategically preferable to all concerned. It is this kind of thinking,
no doubt, which led Mr. Bertil Kugelburg, Managing Director
of the Swedish Employers’ Confederation to say:
If you think of a negotiator, I think his first duty is to try to place
himself in the chair of his opponent and try to find out what are the
aims of the opposing party. What are their conditions, how do they
work? If you do that and try to find a solution, even if you have
strongly conflicting interests, I think it is possible to find a com-
promise which, to a certain degree, will be satisfactory to both of
them.2
The actual evaluation of the costs involved, and hence of the
l ibid.
* Quoted in Jack Cooper, ‘Industrial Relations: Sweden shows the Way’
(Fabian Research Pamphlet, May 1963)~ p. 3.
75
Unoflciaal Strikes
superiority of the procedural methods to the strike weapon, is a
matter for the parties concerned. But the empirical difficulties
here for the student are considerable. Not only is it likely that the
main interest groups will perceive the elements and issues of the
bargaining situation differently, but the individual groups them-
selves are by no means homogeneous. In a trade union, for
example, not only will there be differences potentially in the
assessment of a situation as between the National Executive, the
District Officials, the Branches, the Shop Stewards and the rank
and file, but also between different skills and industry groupings
as any dispute over wage differentials reveals.
Belief in the legitimacy of the industrial order, and the adequacy
of the collective bargaining procedures are analytically separate
propositions. But, as we have indicated, without the establishment
of the first proposition, it is hardly likely that the collective
bargaining procedures will work effectively. Similarly, if the
negotiating procedures as laid down were constantly failing the
tests of efficiency, representativeness and fairness, the legitimacy
of the order would eventually be questioned.
Administrative O&e&ions
The administrative objections to unofficial strikes arise in part
from resistance to change which, to a greater or lesser extent is
encountered in all bureaucratic organisations and in part from
the dilemmas which the functionaries of the parties involved find
themselves in as a result of such strikes. The position of minority
groups is a perennial problem of democratic theory and highlights
the issue of bureaucratic resistance to change. In industry, a group
of workers who wish to transfer their allegiance from one union
to another or to establish a new union, will meet the formidable
opposition of the entrenched union and employers’ bureaucratic
structures. The employers and their Associations are reluctant to
give negotiating rights to unions with which they are unused to
dealing. The T.U.C. is likewise reluctant to recognise new unions
and further holds that a union’s right to retain its members is
supreme over the member’s right to change his affiliation, as the
analysis of post-war jurisdictional disputes awards emphatically
sh0ws.l A small breakaway group does not easily gain control
l See S. W. Lerner, Breakaway Unions and the Smalc Trade Union (1961)
Chapter 2, The T.U.C. Jurisdictional Dispute Settlement.
76
Unojicial Strikes
over the means of communication to present its point of view
adequately to potential converts. When, therefore, the group
draws attention to itself in the form of an unofficial stoppage, its
leaders are likely to be described and dismissed as ‘troublemakers’.
Mr. Harry Douglas, General Secretary of B.I.S.A.K.T.A., speak-
ing at the T.U.C. Conference debate on unofficial strikes in 1960,
declared :
The individual unions have set up a constitution democratically by
their own elected members and then have come to this rostrum to
support those who defy that constitution. . . . If self-elected dictators
attempt to destroy the agreements democratically negotiated, they
will just as surely destroy the Movement which negotiated these
agreements.l
This is an expression of what Karl Mannheim in a more general
context described as ‘bureaucratic conservatism’, the type of
mentality which attempts to turn all problems of politics into
problems of administration. 8 In its extreme form bureaucratic
conservatism refuses to accept any revolutionary tendencies as
legitimate and seeks to control industrial discontent by the
manipulative techniques at its disposal. The moral objections to
‘unconstitutional’ behaviour, which we discuss separately, pro-
vide the ideological content and justification of bureaucratic
conservatism.
Turning to the dilemmas which the functionaries of the parties
involved find themselves in as a result of unofficial strikes, one
can see that too many disputes when trade union officials are thin
on the ground, makes it physically impossible to cope. The time
and resources of the official may be stretched beyond endurance.
In addition, there is the further dilemma of how to respond when
an unofficial strike is brought to the attention of the trade union
official. V. L. Allen has well illustrated this problem in connection
with the dockworkers. When strikes were being spread from
port to port by unofficial strike leaders, the union officials had to
try to get to the ports first. They then had to decide whether to
hold their own properly constituted union meetings, with the risk
IIbid., p. 351.
* K. Mannheim, Ideolog and Utopia (Routledge and Kegan Paul, rgbo),
p. 107.
a V. L. Allen, Trade Union Leadership (Longmans, 1937). Chapter 12:
(I) Dockworkers in the Union; (2) Union Leadership in the Docks.
77
Unoj%iaZ Strikes
that those they really wanted to be present would not come, or
would even hold their own rival meetings, or to attend the
unofficial meetings to put the official union view across. While
the latter approach might appear to concede recognition to the
unofficial group and certainly puts the union officials on the spot
in a hotly dissentient atmosphere, on balance it appears to have
been the most successful tactic in resolving the dilemma to the
union’s advantage.
It is what is commonly called the wildcat strike that gives rise
to the union’s administrative dilemma in its most acute form.
The genuine wildcat strike is defined by Gouldner as:
One in which the formal union leaders have actually lost control
and the strike is led by individuals whose position in the formal
structure does not prescribe such a role for them.1
Such strikes may give the appearance of being ‘unreasonable’ and
apparently unpredictable, but Paterson who equates the wildcat
strike to his ‘operative variable’ strike suggests that they are
always preceded by changes in performance indices and to that
extent can be expected.2 They have, as it were, an internal logic
of their own. It is a failure to read the signs embodied in an
increased rate of accidents, work spoilage, labour turnover,
psychosomatic illness and a lowered rate of productivity that
gives the appearance of spontaneity. Contrary to popular notions,
the wildcat strike is no new phenomenon. Writing of the nine-
teenth-century experience in The Growth of British Indmtrial
Relations, E. H. Phelps-Brown observed :
From time to time anxieties, grievances and vague resentments
(regarding type of work, supervision, disruption of work groups,
insecurity or technical change) seemed to cumulate and re-inforce
one another . . . No issue had arisen of the kind with which union
headquarters were used to dealing. So when strike followed, it broke
out suddenly, men suffering from a real but undefined sense of
grievance formulated some unreasonable complaint; a trivial in-
1 A. W. Gouldner, lV’j&zt 5’Mze (Routledge and Kegan Paul, 195 y), p. 93.
Gouldner distinguishes between the genuine wildcat and the pseudo wildcat
strike, the latter being the situation in which the formal union leaders have
employed concealed influence in sanctioning and leading the strike (p. 95).
In our terminology this would be a form of quasi-official strike, whereas the
former is pure unofficial.
z T. T. Paterson, GlasgowLimited (Cambridge, 1960).
78
Unoj%ial Strikes
cident precipitated an unofficial strike. The men felt they had to
take action into their own hands because the union was no help to
them. The officials at headquarters and the national executive were
taken by surprise, and found fault with the men for breaking an
agreement made in their name. The public blamed the leaders for
being out of touch with the rank and file.1
It is not only the spontaneous element of the strike but the sense
of alienation from the established union that characterises the
wildcat strike. As far as the existing union organisation is con-
cerned, the perishable dispute, which we noted earlier, is essentially
defensive, whereas the wildcat strike is aggressive. (‘The men
felt they had to take action into their own hands because the
union was no help to them.‘)
An administrative dilemma also confronts the Ministry of
Labour in its conciliatory activities. Can it consult with the
unofficial strike leaders without undermining the authority of the
union officials and unjustifiably elevating the status of the strike
leaders, thereby encouraging imitation by other potential strikers ?
Yet not to consult might only prolong the dispute. Michael
Shanks has suggested that the official conciliation service should
be separated from the Ministry of Labour.2 but what it gains in
freedom it might lose in authority for its own status would suffer
by such a reorganisation.
Economic Objections
One of the most frequently stated views is that this country
cannot afford unofficial strikes. Vigorous exponents of the
attitude stress the disruption caused to industry by these disputes,
and castigate the union leaders for not preventing strikes which
hold back production, lose exports and reduce the national
income. A motion in 1963 to the Central Council of the Con-
servative Party exemplifies this kind of thinking:
We cannot afford unofficial strikes any more than we can afford tax
avoidance or financial manoeuvrings that put quick profits . . .
ahead of the national interest.a
over one-third of one per cent in engineering and less than two-
thirds of one per cent in the most strike prone industry of all,
the motor industry.
As we have already suggested however, the loss of working
days may not be an accurate measure of the loss of output, for
without consideration of a wider range of variables this measure
alone may easily over-state or under-estimate the actual loss of
output. In national terms, for example, it is conceivable that the
loss of output in strike bound producing units may simply be
off-set by the increase in the demand for output from plants with
spare capacity and similar products; or, in the extreme case,
national output may be maintained by the flow of goods or
services from producers who were on the point of destroying
their surpluses. Even if it is not possible to replace lost output
in this way, there is no certainty that the strike bound plant will
not be able to maintain normal output by using management
officials, oflice staff, new workers and even, in some cases, with
the aid of customers themselves. One interesting incident of
re-manning occurred in the 1961 strike of I 10 seamen who
delayed the departure of their vessel in order to force the manage-
ment to dismiss a bosun:
The Canadian Pacific Company had recruited replacements from
other ports, who travelled overnight to Liverpool. And in the
November dawn, the vessel slipped quietly out into the Mersey,
fully manned.
The strikers, confident that they were going to achieve their object
of either getting the ship’s bosun removed or tying up the vessel
indefinitely, were dumbfounded when they discovered she had
sailed.
‘Our Christmas money has gone down the Mersey’ shouted one of
the angry strikers who had previously rejected the advice of the
General Secretary of the National Union of Seamen, to end their
strike.1
Obviously, the ease with which strikers can be replaced will
depend on a host of factors-how many men are on strike,
whether their work is of a highly specialised nature whether the
safety of their replacements is imperilled by under-manning, and
whether non-striking workers within and outside of the plant
will work with the replacements. Of greater importance, perhaps,
1 Da@ Telegvaph, 17 November rgbr.
82
is the attitude of the strikers themselves to the use of replacement
personnel, or in some cases strikes have been prolonged until
‘black labour’ was withdrawn.
It is considerations of this kind which result in a seemingly
large loss of output in the shipbuilding industry. Figures given
by the shipbuilding employers imply that over the three years
195 S-60, an annual average loss of 4% was due to unofficial
strikes. Here the strict demarcation of trades, and the assembly
type of production dictate that each trade must wait its turn to
start its work on the vessel, and this is complicated by the
difficulty of not only finding replacement labour, but of per-
suading the non-strikers to work with these replacements.
The 1962 strike in the Wearside yard of J. L. Thompson is a
good example of how the inability to replace a small number of
strikers resulted in a general lay off and a considerable loss of
output :
. . . The yard was closed (to 1,300 workers) because the absence of
(ten) fitters meant that the cranes could not be serviced. The re-
sumption of work has been made possible because two apprentice
fitters have gone back to work. With the departmental foreman they
have been checking the cranes, and as a result it is hoped that
several hundred men will resume today with more to follow.2
On the other hand, employers may not always regret the loss
of the workers’ output, for the strike may enable managements to
make improvements to plant lay-out. This may be particularly
true of short strikes in ‘round-the-clock’ industries. A case in
point has come to our attention in one such industry - steel
rolling - where the management used a one day strike of main-
tenance craftsmen to try a new (and successful) method of
changing rolls.
Even allowing for the fact that national output may be main-
tained by an increase in substitute output, by replacement
workers, or in the long term by improvements resulting from
the strike, it is clear that the loss of working days may, in some
instances, understate the actual loss of production. This is most
clearly seen when the actions of unofficial strikers in a few
companies, deter overseas buyers from placing orders from all
the companies in the country in question. The views of a leading
Swedish shipowner, Mr. Tore Ulff are relevant when he said:
1 The Guardian, 3 May 1962.
83
Unofficiaal Strikes
. . . there are things in British shipbuilding that are not at all satis-
factory-the strikes and the threatened strikes. If it were not for
the unfortunate effect of these disputes foreign owners would have
more tonnage built in Britain - and they would have great confidence
about the orders they placed . . . shipyard strikes on the continent
are on a far smaller scale. Some countries just don’t have strikes . . .1
‘Future output’ may also be impaired by the damage caused to
plant and equipment as a result of a strike. If, for example, a steel
furnace is left unattended during a strike, then there may not
only be a loss of metal but damage to the furnace as well, which
holds up production on the return of the strikers.
All of these factors suggest that the national loss of output
from unofficial strikes can easily be exaggerated or minimised.
This is also true of the loss resulting from the effects of strikes
on other producers. Here three questions are relevant. First, does
the producer possess a stock of products, or can he obtain stocks
which can tide him over the strike? Second, are there any sub-
stitutes which can be used instead of the ‘strike product’?
Finally, can consumption of the strike output be delayed tem-
porarily? To take the last-mentioned it may be possible for a
firm to do without its steel supplies for one day but not its supply
of electricity to run the machinery.
The after effects of strikes on output are, as we have suggested,
extremely difficult to estimate. Some writers consider that as a
strike involves a rest from work, output is sure to rise when the
workers return.2 ‘I’. T. Paterson puts the strike in quite a different
perspective when he argues:
The loss of coal output through strikes is comparatively small, the
loss through bad performance is immense. And though miners may
be castigated for striking, the real culprits are the agents who
produce the frustrating and insecure situations . . . It might be the
case in the coal mining industry that the ‘wildcat’ strike is ‘good
for production (in the aggression causing environment) for the
cathartic effect of the strike, ‘It lets them get it off their chests’, the
recovery makes up part of the leeway lost in the approach to the
strikes.3
In the same volume Nancy Sear has this to say of the unofficial
strike :
In the British system of industrial relations in which agreements
have no legal backing and are, therefore, valueless unless voluntarily
Conchsion
It should be made clear that we have not presented an apologia
for the unofficial strike, but rather we have attempted to examine
l T.U.C. Report, op. cit., p. 126.
2 The Observer, 20 November rg6o.
89
Uno$%aal Strikes
some of the assumptions on which objections to unofficial strikes
are based. In conclusion it must be emphasised that the unofficial
strike is a relative concept varying in scope, content and tactical
significance as between unions, and within a union over time.
Further, it is only one form of conflict which, in other situations,
might give rise to go-slows, increased absenteeism and labour
turnover and so forth (although, of course, these factors may
co-exist with, as well as be substitutes for unofficial strikes).
Unofficial strikes need, ultimately, to be incorporated into a
more general theory of industrial conflict. They may be seen as
a particular expression of dissatisfaction with the existing rules
of the industrial game (or a particular aspect of those rules). The
rules, which are extensive and complex in modern industrial
societies, are those which govern relations within a union
organisation, between various unions, between the unions and
the employers, between the employers and the work force - and
all are influenced by social, political and legal sanctions exerted
by the state. The same weapon, the industrial stoppage, may be
used to express various forms of dissatisfaction with the existing
‘reign of rules’. It may be an anarchical type of protest against
the fact that there has to be a reign of rules at all. The work group
becomes more than usually aware of the essentially coercive
nature of the rules and rebels from a sense of oppressiveness.
The unofficial strike then becomes a gesture of defiance against
their industrial lot (although it may not always be consciously
understood and defined as such). It may, however, be a protest
against the fact that some other groups have broken the existing
rules. This is a struggle for ‘rights’ as they are currently defined.
Or again it may be used to point to existing anomalies in the
rules and to demand that they be reformed and/or extended,
either to cover adequately existing conditions, or, as the case may
be, to cater effectively for changed conditions. Finally, the strikers
may accept the necessity for a reign of rules, but wish substan-
tially to re-model or revolutionise the existing industrial order.
Unofficial strikes may therefore, be evaluated at a philosophical
and tactical level. At the first level, judgment will rest on whether
we regard the goals of the strikers as legitimate. But such
judgment may be modified by whether or not we regard the
unofficial strike as tactically most efficacious, in the light of
available alternatives, in achieving the stated goals.
90
CHAPTER THREE
T
HE shipbuilding industry in this country has long been a
battlefield in which demarcation disputes have taken place.
From the standpoint of the sociologist, one is concerned
neither to condone nor condemn such behaviour in its various
manifestations, but simply to try and understand it. This par-
ticular study has emerged, in the first instance, from field work
conducted on the North East Coast, hence special attention will
be given to that area. 1 However, this work is considered in rela-
tion both to historical and contemporary aspects of the industry
as a whole. The description, analysis and interpretation of the
demarcation dispute presented here is organised in four sections :
92
The Demarcation Disptlte in the Shipbuilding Industry
terise the groups participating in such disputes, and certain
environmental factors external to, but impinging upon, these
groups.
The groups themselves were, of course, primarily craft groups.
A whole range of trades was regarded as necessary for the build-
ing and fitting out of a ship: shipwrights, platers, riveters,
caulkers, smiths, joiners, engineers, patternmakers, cabinet-
makers, painters, drillers and so on. The social solidarity of these
groups which is reflected in the tenacity with which they entered
into demarcation strikes at this time may be seen as stemming
from a number. of inter-related group properties. There is first
the actual pattern of recruitment to the group. It is traditionally
the very nature of a craft to demand entry to the trade through
apprenticeship. In this way the mystery of the craft is passed on
from generation to generation. Tricks of the trade, standards of
workmanship, pride in one’s work, are the marks of such a
sociological inheritance involved in the transmission of skills.
This mode of recruitment makes for a clear social definition of
group membership and a homogeneous group composition. The
importance of group homogeneity, as Roethlisberger and
Dickson, and Sayles have notably demonstrated,’ lies in the fact
that the willingness to exert pressure to achieve common group
goals is not dissipated by internal conflicts of interest. Insofar as
common norms and values are internalised through these patterns
of recruitment and training, social cohesion within the group
may be said to be culturally induced.
It may be inferred that membership of such an occupational
group was of central importance in the life experience of the
group member. Not only did his craft training implant in him a
sense of exclusive competence in relation to a particular range of
techniques, which members of the trade could undertake, but his
work expectations were geared to that particular craft. To this
extent he was a captive by his occupation and, upon the fortunes
of his occupation in the labour market, hinged his own personal
and familial security. Merton has argued that ‘it seems likely that
the greater the culturally defined degree of engagement in a group
the greater the probability that it will serve as a reference group
l F. J. Roethlisberger and W. J. Dickson, MumgemenS and the Worker
(Harvard, 1947) and L. R. Sayles, Behaviour of Industrial Work Groups (Wiley,
195 8).
93
The Demarcation Dispute in the Shipbzdlding Industry
with respect to varied evaluations and behaviour.‘1 Hence the
readiness to put up with some short term suffering in the form
of a demarcation strike, when seen in the context of the longer
term group interest, is not so surprising. Solidarity arises with
the realisation that personal and group goals effectively depend
upon the interdependent activities of group members for their
achievement. To this extent social cohesion may be said to be
organisationally induced.
This feature of organisationally induced social cohesion is
underlined by the formation of craft unions. These unions were
characterised by a high degree of completeness, to use Simmel’s
term. Thar is to say, the ratio of actual group membership to
potential group membership was very high.2 This enhanced the
power of the union to act as an interest group. It must be pointed
out, however, that in the late nineteenth century, there were
different unions competing for the control of identical crafts.
This was notably so in the engineering trades where the Amalga-
mated Society of Engineers competed with the Steam Engine
Makers’ Society, the National Trade Society of Engineers, the
United Machine Workers’ Association, and the Amalgamated
Society of Metal Planers, Shapers and Slotters, to organise
workers engaged in fitting and turning. Thus the demarcation
question was overlaid with jurisdictional problems. The energetic
pursuit of demarcation claims by the union could be regarded as
at least one sign that they were looking after the interests of their
members and thus could serve as a basis for recruiting new
94
The Demarcation Disptite in the Shipbh’ding Indxrtg
members and maintaining the allegiance of the existing member-
ship.
The distinction between culturally induced and organisation-
ally induced social cohesion which we have utilised here, follow-
ing Merton,’ is particularly helpful since the former tends to
stress the ‘moral’ aspects of group behaviour, while the latter
tends to emphasise the ‘expedient’ considerations. Given the
organisational possibilities outlined above, it may be suggested
that a threat to certain patterned norms and values will give rise
to the mobilisation of interest groups as a defence against such
threats. This helps to explain both the tenacity of the disputants,
but also the limitations which may be put on participation in
such conflict. The point concerning group tenacity is well re-
flected in the sympathetic observation of the Tyneside shipbuilder
John Wigham Richardson, commenting at the end of the last
century on the protracted nature of demarcation strikes:
Imagine what your feelings would be if you believed (as if it were
the Gospel) that you had a prescriptive right to certain work of
which you were being unjustly deprived . . . Unless you first realise
that the men during a strike grow to look upon themselves as
martyrs and to feel a martyr’s exultation, you will never be able to
understand how strikes last as long as they do, after the struggle is
evidently hopeless.2
The willingness to embark on demarcation strikes would appear,
in the first instance, to be limited by certain normative considera-
tions. This comes out very well in a circular issued by the United
Patternmakers Association, in 1889, justifying a strike:
We are fighting this battle on the principle that every trade shall
have the right to earn its bread without the interference of out-
siders; a principle jealously guarded by every skilled trade . . . and
one which we are fully determined shall apply to US.~
Explicit here is the recognition not only of one’s own rights but
also of the rights of others. One is not saying of course that an
interest group, once it has realised its effective power, may not
seek to extend its control over the work environment and ration-
1 Merton, op. cit., p. 316.
2 Quoted by E. H. Phelps-Brown, The Growth of British Industrial Relations
(Macmillan, 19j9), p. rbo.
3 Quoted by S. and B. Webb, op. cit., p. 114.
91
The Demarcation Disptrte in the Shipbzlilding Indxrtry
alise its behaviour in terms of the existing group morality. Ways
in which this may be done and the circumstances promoting this
form of behaviour will be discussed below.
Merton has also indicated that social cohesion in a group may
be induced by the structural context in which the group finds
itself.1 It is basically the situation in which the group is bound
more closely together in the face of threats to its existence or
stability from environmental forces or groups. In the shipbuild-
ing industry one may trace the nature of these threats to several
sources. First the industry was subject to severe cyclical fluctua-
tions. The insecurity which this bred was heightened by the fact
that notice to quit the job could be given with less than a day’s
warning. It was further accentuated by the fact that employment
opportunities outside the industry were usually very limited. If
other industries existed at all in a shipbuilding town, they were
usually heavy industries which endured slumps at the same time
as shipbuilding and would probably have surplus labour of their
own. In any case, many of the skills of shipyard workers were
not directly transferable to other industries. There is, for example,
nothing quite comparable to the shipwright’s task of framing
and fairing a ship. To exercise effective job control over a specified
range of tasks was, therefore, to provide a cushion against
shrinking employment opportunities in times of slump.
Secondly, one may observe that the industry was subject to
technical changes that were continually upsetting any established
division of labour. There were, for example, changes in the types
of material used for ship construction, the most far-reaching of
course being the change from wood to iron. The shipwrights, in
consequence, found themselves working with the same material
as the platers, and were correspondingly more vulnerable to
challenges from them. At the same time, there was the ever-
present need to cope with the additional features which came to
be regarded as a necessary part of shipbuilding: refrigeration
facilities, telegraph installations and the various luxuries associ-
ated with passenger liners. It has been fairly said, as far as
demarcation disputes are concerned, that ‘the industry had the
misfortune to be the meeting ground of many well-organised
crafts during a revolution in its technique, and to offer an expand-
ing range of new jobs which lent themselves to much hairsplitting
l Merton, op. cit., p. 316.
96
The Demarcation Dispte in the Sbipbtlild;ng Irzdxrtry
debate.‘1 Apart from changes taking place that were new to the
industry there was also the disruptive effect on existing work
arrangements caused by a firm’s decision to diversify its product,
moving, say, from cargo ships and tankers to include passenger
ships and Admiralty ships.
Thirdly, it was evident that different yards were in different
stages of technical development as far as ship construction was
concerned. This gave rise not only to different rates for the job
as between yards (and hence provided a fertile ground for wage
disputes) but also to different yard practices in the allocation of
work. Shipbuilder John Price of Palmers, Jarrow, commenting
on this state of affairs, observed:
The principal dXiculty in composing the disputes has arisen from
the variety of practice in the different works and districts . . . Each
society proposes to itself to have the largest possible number of its
members employed at the same time . . . and to this end tries to
secure the whole of the work it considers belongs to its members
in accordance with usage and custom . . .2
When workers moved between yards, even on the same river,
they were often confronted with situations that on the basis of
their previous experience seemed to them anomalous. This could
provide a source of discontent and friction when unfavourable
comparisons were drawn with the rights of their particular
occupation enjoyed in other yards.
Lewis Coser has suggested that one may use Simmel’s differen-
tiation between conflict as a means and conflict as an end in
itself as a criterion by which one may distinguish between
realistic and non-realistic conflict:
Conflicts which arise from frustration of specific demands within
the relationship and from estimates of the gains of the participants,
and which are directed at the presumed frustrating object, can be
called realistic conflicts, insofar as they are a means toward a specific
result.3
Given the kind of environment in which different groups are
97
The Demarcation Dispute in the Shipbuilding Industry
competing for a scarce resource, namely, employment oppor-
tunities, the demarcation dispute may be described as a form of
realistic conflict. To that extent it is clearly misleading to charac-
terise all demarcation disputes as irrational, They may be
dysfunctional as far as the needs of the industry measured in
terms of optimum efficiency are concerned, but insofar as they
are an effective means of achieving the stated goal of job security,
they may be said to be a form of rational action, in the defence
of particular group interests and the felt needs of the individuals
composing them. Of course, in the long run such action may be
self-defeating if it contributes to the overall decline of the in-
dustry, but this is not a problem which can be dealt with merely
by exhortation and an appeal to the workers to refrain from
‘irresponsibility’. When the interaction between group structure
and function on the one hand and environmental context of the
group on the other is drawn to our attention, then possible
changes in group behaviour must be seen in the light of the
industrial relations system of the industry seen as a whole. Some
concrete ways in which a move towards the integration of this
system in relation to the value of efficiency is currently taking
place are indicated in the concluding section of this essay.
The great reliance on the strike as a means of settling de-
marcation disputes, to which the Webbs alluded, is of interest in
itself. Since these were long drawn out affairs, they were inevitably
tests of the economic endurance of the participants. It is a
process of attrition through which one group can measure its
own power vis-a-vis another. In this respect Coser’s observation
would appear to be pertinent:
Since power can often be appraised only in its actual exercise,
accommodation may frequently be reached only after the contenders
have measured their respective strength in c0nflict.l
In the case of the shipbuilding industry, the matter may be put
a little more precisely by saying that the strike as an overt form
of conflict makes plain in a dramatic way the realities of power
between the contending parties, but that it then becomes possible
in ways which are discussed in more detail below, to build the
realities of the balance of power into a normative system of
conflict regulation. This balance of power may be challenged
1 Ibid., p. 135.
98
TABLE VIII
RECORDED STRIKES IN MARINE ENGINEERING, SHIPBUILDING AND SHIP REPAIR IN NORTH EAST 1949-60
- - - - - -
Demarcafionl Other Work
Year Wages Hours
I .- -
I. J
Redundancy a Industrial Arrangements T.U. Issues’ Total6
I
=949 (:a) Horizontal (b) Vertical Discipline and R.&s3
-- .- .- -- -- _- --
- - I - 2 - - -
= 949 3
- - I - 2 I - I
IPSO
- - - - I - I i
1951 4
II - I - - I -
1952 3 I7
- I - I - I - 8
1913
i - 2 I I - I -
1954 I3
- - - I - -
=PIl 3 3 7
1956 IO - 3 2 I 2 I 2 22
8 - - - 2 2
1917 3 17
I d - I 2 2 2
1958 5 I9
I - 2 2 - - - 8
=9s9 3
1960 - - I 2 - 2
‘3 5 23
-- .- .- -- _- -- -,-
I I
Total / 66 1 I 1 rp / 4 / IO / IO ‘5 13 IO
- I I
Notes: I.
Horizontal demarcation = inter-trade disputes.
Vertical demarcation = trade versus non-trade disputes (i.e. ‘dilution’ disputes).
2. Redundancy includes disputes over short time working.
3. Other Work Arrangements and Rules includes disputes over working conditions and disputes over the
employment of classes of persons.
4. T.U. issues includes disputes over trade union recognition, victimisation, and ‘sympathy’ strikes.
5. In this and subsequent tables, disputes lasting less than a day, or involving fewer than IO workers
(except where the total loss of working days exceeds IOO) are excluded.
Source: Newspapers checked with Ministry of Labour.
The Demarcafion Disptte in the Sbipbklding Indzrsty
from time to time and may result in strike activity, but what is
suggested is that the frequency with which the strike is used is
diminishing. A regional analysis of the North East Coast over
an extended period provides some useful information on this and
to that I now turn.
TABLE X
LENGTH OF STOPPAGE OF DEMARCATION STRIKES COMPARED
WITH ALLOTHER STRIKESINNORTH EASTMARINEENGINEERING,
SHIP REPAIR AND SHIPBUILDING 1949-60
Length of Horizon tal Vertical All
Stoppage Demarcation Demarcation Other
% % %
1-3 days 42.1 7.5 68.8
4-7 days 31.6 *I 14’4
Over 7 days 26.3 - 16.8
most strikes in the industry tend to involve less than 200 workers
directly, this is not so in the case of horizontal demarcation
strikes. This is a reminder of the solidarity of response, which is
manifested when an inter-craft dispute takes place. But it also
reflects the fact that it is the numerically stronger trades which
tend to strike - platers and shipwrights in particular. By contrast,
vertical demarcation strikes did not involve many men directly.
These appear to have been very localised strikes against in-
troducing dilutee labour into particular work situations.
What may be stressed here is that while the evidence from the
North East Coast suggests that resort to the demarcation strike
is not frequent (in eight of the twelve years there were two or
l Cameron, op. cit., p. x8.
H 103
The Demarcation Dispute in the Shipbuilding Industry
less) and that they tend to be restricted to the platers and boiler-
makers, nevertheless, when they do take place between crafts,
they involve more men and take longer to settle than the average
strike in the region’s industry.
CASE I
Item: The fitting of water ballast tanks and bilge suction pipes.
Contending parties: Fitters (members of the A.E.U.)
Plumbers (members of the P.T.U.)
Procedure : Shipyard Procedure Agreement.
Level Reached: Yard conference (second stage in procedure).
At this stage the trade union District Officials are called in for
the first time. They join the shop stewards at a meeting chaired
by the Yard Manager. The local employers’ association sent along
their Technical Delegate. The occupant of such a post is expected
to have a wide knowledge of ship construction and of the existing
union agreements and practices governing work arrangements.
The Chairman first formulated the problem. He acknowledged
that the arrangement of the ship differed from an ordinary cargo
ship as regarded the job in question. A plan of the job was
produced and it was explained that it involved ‘a ring main going
right round the ballast tanks in the double bottom and at each
division of the tank there is a valve connected by a pad to the
floor with a gearing rod connected going right up to the deck.’
The Plumbers were in possession of the job as the Yard Manager
believed this to be consistent with yard practice. The Fitters
claimed that they should do the pipe work on the job. The
A.E.U. representatives were accordingly asked to state the basis
of their claim.
This claim was in fact based primarily on their understanding
of the Book of Apportionment of Work existing between them
and the P.T.U. The text cited comes under the general heading
of Water Services and reads as follows:
AE.U. fix, joint and strap complete all salt water services if of cast
iron flanged pipes. If wrought iron or steel is used on this line for
107
The Demarcation Disptlte in the J’hipbzlilding Indtistry
filling oil cargo tanks for testing purposes these to be jointed by
Engineers.
This clause to be applied to all deep tanks on merchant steamers if
the pipe is six inches or over in diameter.
The supporting argument was based on custom and practice.
It was said that it was the general practice of fitters to do all cast
iron pipes over six inches in diameter. In this way, therefore, the
Book of Apportionment between the A.E.U. and the P.T.U.,
and custom and practice were regarded as important criteria for
judgment and the case was put in a manner which suggested that
they were mutually supportive.
However, the P.T.U., the Yard Manager and the Technical
Delegate each brought forward evidence and information which
challenged the A.E.U.‘s contention.
The P.T.U. considered the clause from the Book of Apportion-
ment which the A.E.U. had quoted, to be irrelevant, since the
Item from which it was extracted referred to Works Plant. Having
examined the Book of Apportionment, my own view is that there
was scope for confusion between the two unions because several
subjects were dealt with under one Item. The first subject is
headed Works Plant, as the P.T.U. noted but the immediate
subject dealt with under the clause quoted is Water Services and
does not appear to refer to Works Plant at all but to work on
ships of a particular kind. It was the actual setting out of the
Book of Apportionment that gave rise to a difference of opinion
on this point. (Appendix B illustrates the way in which Apportion-
ment Lists are set out.)
The Yard Manager’s objection to the use made by the A.E.U.
of the clause quoted from the Book of Apportionment was more
substantial. He observed that the clause was inappropriate
because in context it referred only to water services for tank
testing. Further, he quoted from another Item in the Book of
Apportionment, which, he maintained, was more directly applic-
able to the case in hand. It was headed Water Ballast Tanks and
Bilge Suction Pipes. He said that it supported the Plumber’s case
since it was stated under that Item that their work included:
Cast iron flanged pipes complete on new and repair work except in
boiler room, engine room and tunnel.
The Yard Manager went on to challenge the fitters’ claim that
108
The Demarcation Dispute in the Sbipbzti1dit.g Indust
the job was theirs by virtue of general practice. He pointed out
that on an ore carrier built by a neighbouring firm on the river,
the work in question was done by plumbers.
The Technical Delegate, for his part, supported the contentions
of the Yard Manager. He added that the work on the ore carrier,
to which the Yard Manager had referred, was on pipes that were
nine inches in diameter. The A.E.U.‘s claim to do pipe work over
six inches in diameter was, in consequence, not beyond dispute.
It is evident that the criteria which the A.E.U. used to support
their case - ‘the book’ and ‘custom and practice’ - are accepted
as valid. What is questioned is the relevance, applicability and
accuracy of the information brought forward by them to sub-
stantiate their case.
At this point a deadlock was reached and the A.E.U. announced
that they would carry the matter further to the next stage of
procedure. Essentially the technique employed by the Chairman
to resolve the question was to widen the area of discussion
between the two parties. The issue as defined in the debate so
so far had referred solely to pipe work. However, there was still
the question of deciding who should work on the valves men-
tioned in the description of the total job. The A.E.U. claimed
that this too was their work on the grounds that ‘the pad that
has to be fitted to the floor is just as important as the pipe itself.
It has to be machined in such a way as to take the valve in correct
alignment’. When they had heard the claim put forward in these
terms, the plumbers’ contingent retired for a private discussion
and, on returning, announced :
We have considered this question very carefully and have arrived
at the conclusion that it would not be right for us to claim this part
of the work and that, in our opinion, it is rightfully fitter work.
CASE II
CASE III
112
The Demarcation Dispute in the Jbipbzlilding Industry
It will be recalled that under the terms of this procedure
agreement the employer from the yard where the dispute has
taken place is not permitted to be present.
The shipwrights, who had initiated proceedings, claimed the
work in question on the basis of custom and practice. In the yard
concerned, it was said, any pillar, whether fixed or portable, solid
or tubular, round or oval, hexagonal or any other shape, had
been erected by shipwrights on all ships. The only exception
consisted of pillars that were of angle bar construction and these,
it was admitted, had been erected by platers. But the pillars now
in dispute were I 5 inch diameter cargo hold pillars, octagonal in
shape and portable, and, it was maintained, there was a clear
distinction between these pillars and the angle-bar type erected
by platers.
The boilermakers (platers) also claimed the work on the basis
of custom and practice. Their delegate quoted the testimony of
a Foreman in the yard, which he regarded as impartial and
conclusive :
These temporary pillars were hinged at the top and were about
6 inches short at the bottom to be wedged up. I was surprised at
the time that the shipwrights made any claim to them because all
temporary or portable pillars in the yard had always been platers’
work, such as pillars under winch decks, between decks and all
pillars in connection with grain shifting boards . . .
The difference between the two unions was that in the case of
the shipwrights the method of construction was put forward as
the deciding factor, whereas, in the case of the platers, the purpose
for which the pillars were used was held to be the significant
consideration. In particular, by stressing the portability and tem-
porary nature of the pillars, the platers were emphasising that the
pillars had nothing to do with the alignment of the ship (which,
had it done, would have provided an unambiguous basis for the
shipwrights’ claim). This explains the significance of the following
exchange, which looks like the work of Lewis Carroll:
Boilermakers’ Delegate : ‘It is possible for these pillars, which are
hinged at the top end, to be stowed under the deck and never used
at all. Would they then be properly regarded as pillars ?’
Chairman: ‘They would certainly not be used as pillars while they
were stowed in this way.’
‘13
The Demarcation Dispute in the Shipbuilding Induty
However, the shipwrights, for their part, refused to accept the
position that they could only claim work connected with the
alignment of the ship. They had always fitted such pillars and
felt that they should continue to do so. They discounted the
testimony of the foreman, whom the Boilermakers had quoted,
pointing out that all the previous examples he had referred to,
related to pillars of angle-bar construction.
In this case then, both unions based their claim on considera-
tions of custom and practice. In fact, the job concerned was new
to the yard in the sense that tubular pillars had never been used
before. It was probably this slight element of uncertainty arising
from the innovation which caused the issue to emerge.
In the event, the employers’ casting vote went to the ship-
wrights. It is interesting to notice how the Boilermakers’ Delegate
accepted the decision. He said that his members would accept
the decision of the committee. He was satisfied that he always
got a fair hearing and was firmly of the opinion that the procedure
laid down in the 1912 Demarcation Agreement constituted a
right and proper manner of dealing with these questions. In his
opinion, the dispute affected three parties, two unions and the
employers. He considered that it was reasonable that the em-
ployers should have an equal right with the two unions to take
part in the discussions.
The use of procedures, such as those we have described here,
indicates the possibilities of obtaining a working consensus
between conflicting parties. In the light of these examples, one
may suggest certain ways in which this consensus is developed
and maintained.
(a) The introduction of order through the use of procedures
tends to encourage a stylised approach to the problem under
discussion. There is a definite arrangement as to who should be
present at proceedings, who should take the chair, who should
speak first (the chairman giving the aggrieved party the chance
to state its case). At the end of the debate following the decision
it is common for the rival claimants to thank each other and the
employers for the way in which the meeting has been conducted.
Even where quite harsh things are said by one party against
another, the debating framework lends it the appearance of a set-
piece in a drama, as though it is an expression of militancy or
aggressiveness which, at that particular stage in the proceedings,
114
The Demarcation Dispztte in the Sbipbztilding Indzisfy
is felt to be an appropriate step to take in the ritual performance.
These patterned enmities may serve the function of setting
boundaries between groups within the industrial relations system,
but without the economic costs attached to the alternative mode
of conflict, namely strike activity. One is reminded here of
Erving Goffman’s perceptive observation :
An interaction can be purposively set up as a time and place for
voicing differences in opinion, but in such cases participants must
be careful not to disagree on the proper tone of voice, vocabulary
and degree of seriousness in which all arguments are to be phrased,
and upon the mutual respect which disagreeing participants must
carefully continue to express toward one another. This debaters’
or academic definition of the situation may also be invoked suddenly
and judiciously as a way of translating a serious conflict of views
into one that can be handled within a framework acceptable to all
present.l
(b) The cases I have discussed draw attention to the employer
as an impartial party to the proceedings and exemplified in his
role as chairman. At the same time the employer’s impartiality is
not nai;ve in quality, since he is obviously seeped in a technical
understanding of ship construction and on points of detail may
be aided by the Technical Delegate. It is interesting to see that
another multi-craft industry, building, also operates procedures
in which employers play an active and informed part in the
settlement of disputes. As B. J. McCormick observes:
Employers, of course, have a stake in the settlement of demarcation
disputes if only because present work can be speedily and harmon-
iously completed and future work not be subject to uncertainty.2
In the building industry, the employers are assisted in their
efforts not only to be but to appear impartial by the existence of a
uniform rate for all craftsmen. Thus they cannot, in any direct
sense, be accused of choosing the cheapest way of doing the job,
regardless of the justice of the claim before them. Objections
which are sometimes heard to the employer’s decisive role in
Note: Figures include ships of IOO gross tons and above World
tonnage does not include U.S.S.R., East Germany or People’s
Republic of China.
Source: Lloyd’s Register of Shipping.
The national federation and the associations remain the most im-
portant levels of authority, because they are centres of original
power, and because they control the funds. Their importance is
increased by the collective bargaining procedure of the industry
which deals with disputes which are no longer entirely internal to
an individual firm first by ‘district’ meetings (where the local
association handles the employers’ business) and then at national
I33
An Oficial Dis-ute in the Constructiomal Engineering Industq
work and that a high accident rate in the industry and the in-
trinsic dangers of the job merited a higher wage in compensation.
To this the employers replied that these things had been taken
into account in the existing wage payments. But central to the
dispute was the disagreement over the status of the erector.1 and
where such conflicts occur it cannot be said that occupational costs
are strictly determinate. In so far as occupational costs are linked
to status considerations, conflicts over status ranking introduce
an element of indeterminacy into the discussion of occupational
costs. Indeed, one suspects that difficulty of resolving many con-
flicts between management and labour arises because at the same
time there are differences of opinion on both the ‘effort’ and the
‘occupational costs’ axes. This is perhaps notably the case in
arguments over wage differentials in which arguments about the
reward for effort are inevitably comparative and introduce status
elements into the discussion. Just as the concept of effort lacks
an ‘objective’ frame of reference by which rewards can be agreed
upon by all the parties concerned, so too may the concept of
occupational costs .2 And since they may be interacting rather than
separate features of the industrial conflict situation it is mis-
leading to apportion ‘harmony of interests’ to the alleged self-
regulating mechanism of occupational costs and rewards, and to
attribute ‘conflicts of interest’ simply to disputes over the reward
for effort.
In order to justify the wage increase it was necessary for the
C.E.U. not only to establish the skilled status of the steel erector,
but also the relevance of the comparison with the Building in-
dustry. Conflict over the legitimacy of the comparison highlights
the essential boundary position of the Constructional Engineering
industry. Not only was it linked procedurally with the general
Engineering industry, but in many cases constructional engineer-
ing was a branch or section of a general engineering firm. There
were, therefore organisational and procedural ties to that industry.
1 For an account of a similar type of disagreement over welding in the
U.S.A. see Herbert J. Lahne, ‘The Welder’s Search for Craft Recognition’,
Indusirial and Labor Relations Review, July rgj 8, pp. Tgr-Go7.
a cf. T. H. Marshall, ‘It is . . . possible by deliberate action to raise the
social status of an occupational group, partly by altering the objective
character of the job, and partly by changing the attitude towards it.’ ‘The
Nature and Determinants of Social Status’, in Sociology at the Crossroods
(Heinemann, rg63), pp. 206-7.
I34
An Oficial Dispute in the Constructional Engineering Ina’tistr_y
At the same time, however, Constructional Engineering shares
necessarily the technological context of constructional work.
Some of the more important technological characteristics have
been summarised by John Dunlop:
Work operations on a particular site are characteristically of a short
duration; at times they may only last a few hours or days; on other
sites they may last some months or even a few years. Some projects
have a large number of separate enterprises and workers; others
may involve only a single enterprise and a single worker. The size
and craft composition of the work force is likely to change markedly
in the course of construction. Sites tend to be geographically
variable; some are isolated from urban areas. A number of operations
take place out of doors, and the weather has a significant effect upon
the regularity of these work operations. The technology of building
. . . requires a very wide range of different skills of a high order,
many of which may be necessary on a single project, such as steam
generating plant, or only one of which may be used, as on a re-
painting job. Construction operations as a whole are relatively
hazardous, although not to the same degree as underground coal
mining, as a consequence of heights, material handling, temporary
installations, and the interdependence of workers of different con-
tractors on a job site. There are very wide differences in physical
working conditions and in the technological characteristics of
different construction sites and operations; the wide variety of sites
poses special problems in rule-making designed to cover such
diverse conditions.1
Hence, within this frame of reference it is clearly meaningful,
if not desirable from the Federation’s point of view, for the C.E.U.
to link its aspirations to the Building industry. If one asks why
they had not done so before, the answer is very simple: there was
nothing to be gained. The dispute was prompted by the fact that,
for the first time since the war, the rate of pay for Building crafts-
men had gone above the Engineering rate of pay, to which the
steel erectors were tied.2
In order to bolster its claim further, the C.E.U. applied the
principle of comparability in yet another way. The union asserted
that in both the Building and the Civil Engineering industries,
men had a greater opportunity to work under incentive schemes
INCENTIVESCHEME
TIME WORKERS WORKERS
Hours worked Gross Hours worked Gross
per week Earnings per week Earnings
Local Men (60% of 54’7 EII 15 Id. 52’3 E13 18 zfd.
total employed)
Away men (40% of 57.6 A12 9 rid. 14’9 E14 I r Ifd.
total employed)
This table includes those paid wholly or partly under any such
system. It includes piece work arrangements, output bonus
schemes, or any other systems of payment which vary according
to the output of individuals, groups or departments. The figures
apply to the last pay week in the month.
The markedly greater opportunity for P.B.R. work in the
Constructional Engineering industry, as opposed to either Build-
ing or Civil Engineering, prompts the observation that it is
strange that the employers did not refer to the Ministry of Labour
enquiry for 1953 in the arbitration proceedings. Could it be that
they were ignorant of these official and easily accessible statistics ?
Or was it merely that they regarded the C.E.U.‘s assertion as
self-evidently wrong to all those concerned with the industry?
In either case, their own earnings inquiry seems rather beside the
point. One suspects that the C.E.U., for their part, were making
generalisations on the basis of a few cases. Perhaps in the London
area, where the difficulties first arose, there were particular sites
where those employed in the Constructional Engineering industry
had less opportunity for P.B.R. work. But on this we have no
positive information.
138
An Oficial Dispute in the Constructional Engineering Industry
The following day two more sites were called out, making a
total of IIO erectors on strike.1 Clearly, the financial burden on
a union with 22,000 in its membership, was minute, but the with-
drawal of key men could greatly slow down or even bring to a
standstill work on large sites. The claim that this would hit the
employers where it hurt was not an idle one.
The Director of the Engineering and Allied Employers
National Federation promptly convened a meeting of the Bridge
Building and Constructional group members to discuss how they
should deal with this development. The official view presented
and impressed on the members was that to concede the C.E.U.‘s
claim for ‘comparability’ with Building craftsmen would involve
a greater increase in wage costs than the alternative of rejecting
the claim and upholding the traditional link with the general
Engineering industry. This viewpoint was supported by the fact
that the craftsmen in the Building industry had just presented
their employers with a claim for an extra qd. an hour.
The Engineering employers’ readiness to battle for a principle
was a preview, on a smaller scale, of their subsequent battle on
a wider front with the Confederation, which resulted in the 1917
Shipbuilding and Engineering strike. Indeed, it pre-dates Clegg
and Adams’ comment that:
By 1956, a majority of organised employers seem to have come to
the conclusion that there was an even greater danger than industrial
conflict - continuous inflation.2
The major decision which the employers took at this meeting
was to formally report the existence of the dispute to the Minister
of Labour and ask him to appoint a Court of Inquiry or to refer
the matter to the Industrial Disputes Tribunal. Because of this
decision firms were asked to take no counter-action against the
strikers; but they were asked to give the Federation the names of
workers on strike. In addition, a sub-committee was set up to
consider what counter-action should be taken if attempts at con-
ciliation or arbitration failed. The sub-committee was an advisory
group responsible to the Management Board of the Federation.
It is when there are no further steps available for settling
disputes within an industry that the Ministry of Labour’s con-
l The Times, 28 October 1914.
a H. A. Clegg and R. Adams, The Employers Challenge (Blackwell, x957),
Pa 743.
‘39
An O&al Dispute in the Constrxctional Engineering Indtrshy
ciliation service can begin to operate, if one of the parties chooses
to invite an industrial relations officer in.1 As far as the general
public is concerned, these are the hidden men of the British
system of industrial relations. They have no legal sanctions but
operate typically in an informal way, meeting the parties to the
dispute separately, finding out the salient issues which divide the
disputants, seeking always for some kind of compromise which
may be acceptable to both parties. They may be able to discern
some difference between the public utterances of the parties
involved and the private views expressed. In this respect they
may act as an unofficial emissary. between the parties filtering
information about the ‘real’ state of the conflict, if they think it
may lead to a resolution of the dispute. If necessary or possible,
they may hold joint meetings between the parties and take the
chair at them, but their role is always quite distinct from that of
an arbitrator.
During the first two weeks of November 1954, the Chief
Conciliation OfIicer of the Ministry of Labour met first the
employers’ federation and then the C.E.U. The union was still
firm in its resolve not to accept ,arbitration as a solution. They
expressed a preference for direct negotiations with the employers,
whom they were prepared to meet. However, a certain ambiguity
in the rationale of the union’s position emerged which was to
colour the employers’ response. While the union reiterated its
claim that the erectors should receive the building trade crafts-
mens’ current rate, they added that they were not claiming that
rates in the Constructional Engineering industry should move or
be geared permanently to those of the Building industry. The
union presumably took this attitude in the light of the new claim
of 4d. an hour for Building trade craftsmen. The dilemma con-
fronting the C.E.U. was that it could either add this 4d. an hour
into its claim and lay itself open to the charge of making exor-
bitant and unreal demands, or take the course which it did and
risk the charge of opportunism. It could perhaps be argued that
a more effective union strategy would have been to take the
former course, more particularly since the Confederation of Ship-
building and Engineering Unions had also put in for a wage
increase. Had the C.E.U. kept to its intention of linking its wage
l For the official description of the Conciliation Service, see Indusrtial
Relafions,op. cit., pp. 134-36.
140
An OjTcial Dispute in the Constructional Engineering Industry
rate to the Building industry, the extra qd. being claimed there
would be offset by the award they would have received from
being a member of the C.S.E.U. To this extent their claim would
not have been unrealistic and it would certainly have been more
consistent with their declared policy. As it was, when the
employers learned of the C.E.U.‘s attitude, they were strengthened
in the belief in the morality of their own stand. They inferred
that the union was not interested so much in obtaining for its
members the status and pay of building craftsmen, but rather in
using the comparison as a convenient vaulting pole to secure a
simple wage increase. In the light of this, they refused to agree
to the C.E.U.‘s suggestion that a further meeting be held, since
they did not wish to imply by such a meeting, any willingness to
make concessions. They decided instead to refer the dispute to
the Ministry of Labour under the terms of the Industrial Disputes
Order.
During this period of attempted conciliation, the C.E.U. strike
continued to spread. The guerilla aspect of the strike activity was
underlined by the comment of the union’s General Secretary to
the press :
There will definitely be a spread, but nobody will know anything
about it until it starts. It may be both in and out of London.1
Token strikes, as in the case of a day strike of erectors in Notting-
ham, were used in addition to the snowball tactic. Throughout
this period (and subsequently) the union took care to call mass
meetings of strikers (notably in London) to explain the purpose
of the strike, to encourage the strikers and to obtain their support
of the executive decision.
In the light of the C.E.U.‘s rejection of arbitration as the
appropriate next step, the Ministry of Labour suggested that a
committee of investigation be set up to examine the sources of
the dispute. This was used, apart from its intrinsic value, as a
technique to take the steam out of the dispute, since the condition
was that the strikers return to work. The union refused to accept
the condition. By the end of December, when the matter was
finally considered by the Industrial Disputes Tribunal, the union
had some 298 erectors on strike on fifteen sites throughout the
U.K.
1 The Times, 6 November 1914.
141
An Oficial Dispute in the Constructional Engineering Industry
The Use of Arbitration Machinery
During the period 1951-59, under the terms of the Industrial
Disputes Order, a modified form of compulsory arbitration
existed in the British system of industrial relations. Either side
in a dispute could voluntarily refer the issue to the Ministry of
Labour for reference to the Industrial Disputes Tribunal. The
consent of the other party was not necessary, for such a Tribunal
to be convened, but the awards made by the Tribunal were
legally binding on both sides. It was under this arrangement that
the employers were able to take unilateral action.
The Tribunal met on 31 December 1954, over two months
after the first strike action had occurred. The union carried out
its threat to boycott proceedings, claiming that the employers had
refused to consider the case on its merits before rejecting it. To
refer the claim to arbitration in these circumstances was, the
union leaders argued, to ‘make a mockery’ of the negotiating
machinery and procedure. l The employers’ federation, however,
submitted evidence to the Tribunal. The federation also sent the
Tribunal the documents it had received from the C.E.U. in
support of the claim.
The award, published on 5 January 195 5, was as follows :
The Tribunal have given careful consideration to the . . . statements
and submissions. On the evidence made available to them, they find
that the claim made by the union has not been established. The
Tribunal award accordingly.2
Here, of course, theoretically, the matter should have ended.
In practice, this was very far from the case. As we shall see, the
dispute was not finally resolved until March.
When in 1919 the Industrial Disputes Order was rescinded, the
then Minister of Labour pointed out that as a system of com-
pulsory arbitration, it had depended on the willingness of
employers and unions to make it work.3 Employers had become
increasingly disenchanted with the system and, in the light of
events such as those we are discussing, it is not difficult to see
why. Where unions were strong, the results of such arbitration
1 The Times, 14 December 1934.
a Award 660.
3 See Ministry of Labow Gaxette, November rgy 8 and January 1959, where
employer dissatisfaction with the system is noted.
142
An Oflcial Dispute in the ConstructZonal Engineering Industry
awards were not always heeded if they upheld the employers’
position. Where unions were weak they provided employees with
a resource which, so to speak, enhanced in an artificial way their
power position. In such a context it was an effective substitute to
a strike (which the employees may not have been well organised
enough to have called). Thus although the T.U.C. in its recent
representations to the Minister of Labour, has claimed that a
unilateral reference leading to compulsory arbitration ensures
that disputes are settled in situations where one of the parties is
reluctant to submit to independent judgment,1 the employers’
criticism that in practice the system was one-sided, is not without
substance.
From the policy point of view, however, one may wish to
consider in what circumstances arbitration is likely to be effective
in resolving social conflicts. Sociological analysis may, perhaps,
make a contribution here. To illustrate, we will describe and
apply to our present dispute an approach outlined by David
Lockwood in his paper ‘Arbitration and Industrial Conflict’.2
Lockwood indicates that there are two contrasting views about
the function of arbitration: the ‘judicial’ and the ‘political’.
The judicial view implies that there is some ‘just’ solution to the
dispute possible, and that it is the business of the arbitrator to decide
on the principles and facts involved . . . Political theory regards
arbitration as an extension of collective bargaining and, of course,
collective coercion. The arbitrator now becomes a kind of sensitive
instrument which wiIl accurately record the relative strengths of
the parties and makes sure that the lion gets his share.s
In answering the question, ‘how effective are arbitration pro-
cedures likely to be?‘, Lockwood notes that this will depend in
part on the way in which the arbitration function is viewed by
the parties and by the arbitrator. But it will also depend upon the
l See T.U.C. Rejort, rg6y : ‘At the Meeting with the Minister (of Labour)
. . . General Council representatives said that . . . any machinery which pro-
vided opportunities for peaceful settlement of disputes was beneficial and
that action taken by the Ministry’s officers on reports made under the Order
had stimulated voluntary negotiations in that a number of cases were settled
voluntarily because employers were aware that otherwise they would be sent
to arbitration.’ p. 147.
‘B.J.S., Vol. 6, xgss, PP. 335-47.
3 Ibid., p. 336.
I43
An Oficial Dispute in the Constructional Engineering Industy
type of conflict under consideration. Here he distinguishes be-
tween ‘institutional conflict’, ‘conflicts of interest’, and ‘conflicts
of right’. The first refers to ‘conflicts about the legitimacy of the
institutional framework within which contractual relationships
take place’; the second to ‘conflicts about the establishment of
terms of contracts’; and the third to ‘conflicts about the interpre-
tation of the terms of contracts’.1 We may summarise his position
on the effectiveness of arbitration procedures in the following
chart:
I4j
An Oficial Disptlte in the Constructional Engineering Industy
ramifications of this cannot be entered into here, but we may note
that the British system of industrial relations does not allow much
scope for this kind of mediation. The logical development within
the system is the extension of the role of the industrial relations
officers of the Ministry of Labour. Although the British Em-
ployers’ Confederation have recently expressed the opinion that
the role should not be extended in this way,1 it is perhaps a
functional alternative to a system of compulsory arbitration,
which both they and the trade unions would, in the event, find
more acceptable.
146
An O&cial Dispute in the Constructional Engineering Industry
Stage 3. If Stage 2 is not effective, then firms should lock all
C.E.U. members out of erection sites.
The basic policy behind this campaign was to widen the battle
front in order to stretch the union’s resources and cause dis-
satisfaction within the union membership by affecting their take-
home pay. The lock-out was in fact the classic response to the
‘rolling strike’ but it was most effective in times of high or rising
unemployment1 That was far from the case in 195 5. The primary
step of the overtime ban, preceded step two of the partial lock-
out and step three of the total lock-out partly at least because the
employers wished to maintain their public image of constitutional
behaviour. Public opinion as mediated through the Press was
certainly consciously considered by the employers. Although an
intangible factor, if Press support is obtained it serves to develop
the morale of the group, while adding to the pressures on the
opposing group. Indeed it is noteworthy that the employers
decided to implement their overtime ban after a token strike
called by the C.E.U. They could thus present a picture of an
injured party hitting back only after extreme and continuous
provocation.
What should be stressed at this point are the inherent difliculties
in evaluating the costs to the parties or the consequences of the
kind of campaign outlined by the federation. There are several
clear reasons for this which may be enumerated.
First the Federation was faced with the internal problem of
maintaining cohesion among its membership. This was partly an
administrative problem. The sub-committee set up to suggest the
tactical campaign was permitted to handle the day-to-day running
of things - but a decision on when to move from one step to
another had to be taken by a full meeting of the members of the
Federation. Cohesion was also affected, however, by the fact that
employers were differentially hit by the dispute. Some who were
strike-bound would have preferred more drastic measures to be
taken straight away. Others, who had been able to continue
working, saw even the overtime ban as too costly. They were
conscious of client pressures upon them and, in some cases, felt
that they risked falling foul of penalty clauses in their contracts.
Some firms maintained that they were particularly dependent on
1 See H. A. Turner, op. cit., p. 371.
147
An Oficial Dispzlte in the Consttwctional Engineering Indtrstry
week-end working. Those working on railway contracts were a
case in point, since it was more convenient to do much of the
work when railway services were reduced over the week-end. It
was, no doubt, with such considerations in mind that the General
Secretary of the C.E.U., when the overtime ban was announced,
described it as ‘a rather Gilbertian situation’. He believed that
the employers’ plan would in fact support the union and he noted
that on some sites C.E.U. members had themselves imposed an
overtime ban.1
The Federation attempted to deal with this problem of internal
cohesion, by establishing a common rule to apply to all members
that the overtime ban would only be lifted on member firms if
the delaying of work gave rise to a clear safety problem. An
Appeals Court was set up to decide when exemption could be
granted.
Secondly, the Federation had to consider how non-member
firms would behave in the situation. Would they actively support
the policy? Would they tacitly support it by not employing labour
from strike-bound firms? Or would they cash in on the situation
by happily poaching labour?
The third imponderable was how would the C.E.U. react?
Would they sue for settlement or would they develop their own
campaign and attempt to raise the costs of the dispute for the
employers yet again by the adoption of go-slows or work-to-
rules ?
Finally, in this respect, the Federation also had to consider the
effect that its counter-tactics might have on other trade unionists
and lead to the development of ‘sympathy’ strikes or other
gestures of support for the C.E.U.?a
Given that the costs and consequences of such a campaign are
based upon imperfect knowledge, there is an inevitable element
of indeterminacy about such conflict. At best one can hope for a
feed-back during the on-going process so that fresh calculations
a The Times, I 3 January 193 5.
s Here they predicted correctly that such support, if forthcoming at all
would he very limited. The attempt to raise the status of erectors, could have
the effect of altering the prestige hierarchy of trade union organisations.
The enthusiastic support of the established skilled unions or the general
unions who would, so to speak, be left behind, could hardly be expected.
Nevertheless, the point remains that the employers could not be sure that
the C.E.U. would remain without support.
148
An Oficial Dispute in the Constructional Engineering Industy
can be made with the addition of new knowledge and, if necessary,
modifications about the timing or implementations of the tactics
may be made.
The employers’ ban on overtime came into effect on 21
January 19jj. Five days later the Federation asked the 250
member firms concerned to report the number of sites and C.E.U.
workers affected and to indicate how the workers were reacting
to the ban. Replies were received from 130 firms. Of these, 32
said they were not involved, either because they did not employ
C.E.U. members or because they were not currently engaged in
site work. The replies are summarised in Table XIV. The Federa-
TABLE XIV
SOMEEFFECTS OFTHEOVERTIMEBANINTHECONSTRUCTIONAL
ENGINEERINGINDUSTRY(JANUARY 1911)
No. of C.E.U.
Section No. offrms No. of rites No. of sites members
imposing ban involved not involved involved
tion considered that the bulk of the firms which failed to reply
were not committed to work on outside sites and that information
had been received from all the important sites and from the major
employers. Certainly a large proportion of C.E.U. members in
the industry were affected by the ban.
In the week following the implementation of stage I of the
employers’ campaign, the C.E.U. announced its intention to
extend the guerilla strikes and to introduce either a work-to-rule
and/or a go-slow on further sites. Thus during February the
union called 160 members out on strike at the Tilbury Power
Station site. This brought the work of several federated firms to
a standstill. Towards the end of February, the C.E.U. instructed
strikers from some of the London sites (who had been out the
longest) to return to work. They did this and then promptly
I49
An OjiZal Dispute in the Constrtlctional Engineering Industy
began to work to rule. This infuriated many of the employers
who argued that, to all intents and purposes, they were now
paying the men strike pay. The C.E.U. had simply shifted the
financial burden across to them. Such firms tended to anticipate
stage 3 of the national campaign by closing down the contract.
Thus a partial lock-out occurred in the industry, although it was
not officially sanctioned by the Federation.
In the main, the members of the C.E.U. seemed to have main-
tained quite a high degree of solidarity during the dispute, but a
number of minor exceptions were reported. Several small groups
of C.E.U. men, working on sites when the overtime ban was
declared, told their employers that they had resigned from the
union. Their action appears to have been prompted partly by
their resentment of the prospect of reduced earnings and partly
by their disagreement with the way in which the union had
conducted its case. The employers made an effort to keep these
groups together and worked them as non-union labour through-
out the dispute. They were not, of course, employed on jobs with
union men. The general effectiveness of the overtime ban was,
however, called into question by the following report:
The National Executive (of the C.E.U.) will meet on Sunday to
consider their next step in the strike of steel erectors which has been
going on for I 8 weeks. The strike, which began at I I building sites
in the City of London, now affects loo men at 24 sites.
There is no sign of any move for a settlement. The union say
they are quite prepared to go on for another 18 weeks or more. The
cost to their general funds is comparatively slight because it is mainly
met by a levy on members who are working . . .
For the past 4 weeks the employers have imposed a ban on over-
time. As a result workers have been inclined to leave them for
non-federated firms, with whom they can still obtain overtime earn-
ings. According to the union, some federated firms are paying
bonuses to keep their workers, which make up their earnings to
what they would have been if they had been working overtime. . . .r
The Federation tended to play down the extent to which
bonuses were paid to workers as compensation for the loss of
overtime, or to discourage go-slows and work-to-rules. Com-
ment here, however, is bound to be conjectural, since the essence
of such inducements was that they were concealed.
* The Times, 4 March 1911.
IlO
An O#cial Dispute in the Constructional Engineering Industry
Resolution of the Dispute: The ‘Face-saving Formula
It might at first sight be a cause for wonder that the employers
fighting for a principle against a union pursuing an interest which
was in direct conflict with that principle, could ever reach agree-
ment. However, with the passage of time, the pressure on the
parties to settle the dispute, increases.
To begin with, the fundamental problems of social control over
the membership became greater both for the employers and for
the union as the dispute became more protracted. The basic aim
of the employers’ federation was to maintain the status quo of
the established bargaining relationships with the C.E.U. In that
sense it was acting essentially in a defensive manner. Having
initiated the policy of defence it then had to ensure that the policy
was kept. It sought to do this by suggesting that the interest of
one was the interest of all in the long run and that it would be
to the employers’ overall advantage to subordinate short term
considerations for ‘the common good’. However, short term
considerations are by definition those which give rise to im-
mediate concern. And these concerns were directly related to the
contractual arrangements with clients, the penalties that might be
incurred and the good-will that might be lost. The situation was
not made easier by the fact that in a few instances contracts were
lost to non-federated firms, as too was scarce labour. Such events
serve as symbolic signposts, to use Coser’s phrase,1 and under-
mine the morale of the party affected more than the numerical
significance of them might suggest.
Essentially, one suspects that the Federation did not have
adequate knowledge about whether everyone was toeing the line,
though it could send out morale boosting messages to the effect
that this was the case. The geographical diversity of the sites and
the possibility of paying concealed bonuses, made their task very
difficult. Further, although it could and did attempt to mobilise
the support of non-federated firms and circulated a black list of
strikers’ names to them, it had no sanctions that it could use to
ensure compliance. Indeed, even against member firms the only
real sanction was the threat of expulsion from the Federation. But
113
An O$ciaal Dispute in the Constructional Engineering Industg
ment of improvers would be examined at a later date, with a view
to its possible revision.
Both sides managed in varying degrees to ‘save face’. The
employers had confined the union to Iid. an hour instead of the
3;td. demanded. And they had not conceded at that time the
claim of the erectors to a skilled status. The C.E.U. did not return
to their members empty-handed and were thus not ‘defeated’.
Furthermore, these negotiations were concluded only a week
after a general increase of 3d. an hour was obtained by the
C.S.E.U. It is not unlikely that C.E.U. members would feel that
the aggregate increase had been brought about by their own
efforts.
CHAPTER FIVE
T
HE
steel industry has in large measure been the history of
industrial peace or, more accurately, of regulated conflict.
It has become fashionable to use ‘technology’ as the important
variable in accounting for the degree of friction in industrial
relations. There is reason, however, for caution when it comes to
applying this approach to the iron and steel industry. The reason
is to be found in Clark Kerr and Abraham Siegel’s study, ‘The
Interindustry Propensity to Strike - An International Com-
parison’ and it has been singled out for special comment by
Siegel subsequently :
No generally valid explanation for the pattern of strike activity re-
vealed in this international comparison (where the steel industries
ranked ‘low’ in strike experience in six countries, ‘moderate’ in three,
and in the United States would rank between ‘moderate’ and ‘high’)
emerges from this study. There simply does not appear (as there did
in the case of the coal-mining and long-shoring industries) to be
any inherent characteristic of the industrial environment in iron and
steel fabrication which tends to over-ride the effects of differences in
national industrial relations systems, industrial collective bargaining
history and machinery, or cultural contexts, and which bids fair to
predominate in the shaping of employee-employer relations in the
industry, whatever its industrial location. The basic environment
1 Some of the material contained in this essay has been previously published
in my paper, ‘Plant Bargaining in Steel: North East Case Studies’, Sociological
Review, Vol. 13, No. 2, July 1965.
s In A. Kornhauser, R. Dubin and A. Ross (eds.), Zndusfrial Conflict
(McGraw Hill, rgf4), pp. r8g--ZIZ.
‘r5
Industrial Relations in the North East Steel Indm-try
involving the relationships of workers, work process, and employers
in the production of steel does not per se lead toward industrial
peace or industrial conflict. In short, the explanations for the
historical experience in steel appear to be at best partial and are
frequently combined with unique causal factors. Both the partially
transferable and the unique factors appear to lie outside the charac-
teristics of the industrial environment imposed by the technology
of steel production.1
In this chapter I shall indicate some of the factors which have
been held to account for the industrial relations climate of the
British iron and steel industry and the North East sector of it in
particular. I shall then pay particular attention to the post-war
experience of industrial conflict in the North East sector of the
industry. In discussing the extent to which and the ways in which
conflict is contained within the industrial relations system, I will
develop the theme that technological influences are more
adequately seen as interacting with cultural, economic and
organisational factors.
158
Indtistrial Relations in the North East Steel Industy
Mundella’s work on arbitration and conciliation and commented
in the Ironworkers’ Journal:
The history of the trade disputes at Nottingham and their disastrous
end-the loss to the men, to the manufacturers and the public
generally has happily been brought to an end by the appointment
of an independent Board of Arbitration. Surely, if it is possible for
the hosiery trade of Nottingham to settle their disputes, where they
have 6,000 different articles tabulated and requiring separate con-
sideration, it would be an easy matter for the ironworkers and their
employers to settle their disputes.l
The composition of the Board eventually consisted of one
employers’ representative and one operatives’ representative from
each of the member works. The operatives, who were elected
annually to the Board by their fellows at the individual works,
were not elected as trade unionists, but simply as operatives. But
in practice the operatives were trade unionists and their side of
the Board was dominated by the Ironworkers’ Union (led first by
Kane and after his death in 1876, by Trow). The Board elected
annually its own President (an employer), Vice-President (an
operative), two Secretaries (one employer, one operative), two
Auditors and two Treasurers. Further, the Board appointed a
Standing Committee - President, Vice-President and five mem-
bers from each side. The function of the Board was to discuss
general questions arising from changes in trade conditions,
whereas the function of the Standing Committee was to discuss
disputes which had arisen in particular works. When a deadlock
was reached on the Board, provision was made for an independent
arbitrator to be called in whose decision was final and binding.
Writing at the end of the nineteenth century, the Webbs
describe the Board as ‘the classical example of the success of
arbitration’.2 Resort had been made to arbitration on twenty
occasions in the first twenty-eight years of the Board’s life ‘with
regard to the settlement of future wage contracts; and on every
occasion the arbitrator’s award has been accepted by both em-
ployers and employed’.3 The more detailed account of Arthur
Pugh on the early history of the Board makes clear that this
161
Indtlstrial Relations in the North East Steel Indtistry
of mines should be ‘good’ owners and not tyrants and oppressors.
The ownership of the means of production was not typically a
matter for questioning, rather was the attempt made to mitigate
the evils of the existing order by establishing the legitimacy of
labour to bargain over terms and conditions of employment.
Once the existing order was reformed in this way, compliance
with it was justified. Thus the Durham Miners’ Federation
Executive Committee could comment in 1899:
We have previously expressed the opinion that the steadier we can
make our trade, and the more certainty we can infuse into our
industrial relationship with our employers, the better it will be for
the workmen; and there is nothing more calculated to foster this
desirable condition than the principle of conciliation.l
The Methodist influence although not so clear-cut as in the
case of mining, can certainly not be discounted when we turn to
the iron and steel industry. John Kane himself came from a
Methodist background. James Cox, the third General Secretary
of the Ironworkers Union, was a Wesleyan Methodist from
Darlington. Arthur Pugh, commenting on this maintains:
There was nothing unusual in the fact of the general secretary of
the Ironworkers’ Union being an active member of the Wesleyan
Church. At least the majority of the men who became trade union
leaders in both the iron and coal trades in the latter half of the
nineteenth century in the English counties, were fervent Methodists,
as were large numbers of the rank and file.2
One is not surprised to see embodied in the branch bye-laws
prohibitions against smokin g, cursing, swearing and taking the
name of God in vain.
Social justice then, was seen as abiding by the rules of the
conciliation system. Since some employers were also professing
Christians, inconsistencies between their profession and their
industrial behaviour might be noted by the union leaders, in an
attempt to shame then and bring them into conformity. The
163
Indmtrial Relations in the North East Steel Indmtty
amalgamation of various unions of the British Iron Steel and
Kindred Trades Association.’ Any understanding of industrial
relations in the iron and steel industry, must recognise the
dominating influence which this industrial union has traditionally
had. It has been the pace-setter in terms of wage negotiations and
other unions - the general and craft unions whose interests are
not geared exclusively to the industry - have been treated by the
employers in the perspective of these negotiations.
--
IRON AND STEELINDUSTRY-NORTH EAST COAST AREA
NUMBBR AT WORK*
-- Total
Year General Admin. Number
Procers and Technical Total
Workers i Mainlenanct and at Work Pgrol
Workers Clerical
--
1949 23,640 14,450 2,rrot 40,200 42,150
1950 23,410 14,5 30 3,520 41.460 43,650
I
1951 22,910 14.480 3,840 41,230 43,040
1952 23,380 14.540 3,910 41,830 43,940
‘953 23,710 14,500 4.030 42,240 44,200
1954 (4 22,460 14.410 3>9so 40,820 42,750
1955 22,470 14,oGo 4.050 40,580 42,770
1956 22,350 13,670 4,100 40,120 42,700
1917 04 21,510 14,160 4,190 39,860 43,620
1958 =%W 14,750 4,370 3 8,600 40,860
1959 19,770 =dgo 4,420 38,880 41,030
1960 21,650 16,040 4,9 30 42,620 45,020
1961 20,690 15,630 5.030 41,350 43,780
1
(a) Prior to 1954 the figures include General and Maintenance and
Administrative, Technical and Clerical workers associated with
Drop Forgings, Wire and Wire Manufacturers employed by com-
panies also engaged in other Iron and Steel Processes.
(b) From 1957 onwards excludes Labour employed in the Production
of Welded Tubes over 16" o.d.
* Two part-time female workers taken as being equal to one unit.
The number at work excludes absentees owing to sickness, holidays
and other causes.
t Clerical workers only.
Source: British Iron and Steel Federation.
1 This does not include iron, hence the N.U.B. is excluded from this
analysis. But see Chapter 6 Redundancy Conflict in an Isolated Steel Com-
munity, in which the role of the N.U.B. is fully discussed.
‘69
mo 0 0 00 ( m
- -
i-A
- -
*too0 o- 0 m
z
--
- -0 0 -0 0 3
-
A
,“N 0 c( d-m 0
-
Indtistrial Relations in the North East Steel Indwtry
a close similarity in this tendency as between B.I.S.A.K.T.A. and
the total for the craft groups (excluding the A.U.B.T.W.). The
A.U.B.T.W. which, as we have seen, operates under a separate
negotiating procedure from the other craft unions, was more
prone to have a District Official present. One must recognise that
different unions may have different policies so far as calling in
union officials is concerned, but given the general reluctance to
call them in, this does suggest that the system of plant bargaining
was under some strain at this point. I comment further on
this below.
For the purpose of further analysis, I have distinguished eight
elements, any one or more of which might make up the content
of a particular meeting. The classification is derived from one
used by the Ministry of Labour in its analysis of strikes. The
categories are, in the main, self explanatory, but it should perhaps
be noted that ‘Other Work Arrangements’ refers to problems
arising from work load, organisation or conditions not wholly
covered by any other element. And ‘Trade Union issues’ refers to
matters affecting the status or perceived rights of a union (apart
from a straight demarcation issue, which is treated separately). It
is clear that in this kind of analysis we can only deal with the
manifest elements in a discussion. The question of cause in any
formal sense must lie in abeyance, since we cannot account for
any underlying latent elements, which may have played a part in
promoting the discussion in the first place. But, the manifest
elements cannot in any case be discounted and by recognising
that more than one element may be present in a discussion, we
have not been obliged to ‘fit’ any meeting into a single category.
In quantitative terms the three most important elements making
up the bargaining discussion, during this period, were Wages,
Manning and Other Work Arrangements, in that order. How-
ever, when the craft unions are taken as a distinct group, the
emphasis is slightly different : Manning first and Wages and
Demarcation in second place equally. The Demarcation element
stems from the meetings held with the A.E.U. There is also a
slightly different emphasis of elements in the case of the
A.U.B.T.W., where Wages, Hours and Manning are the three
elements most frequently discussed.
In Table XVIB, I have indicated how far one element provided
the topic of discussion at a meeting and how far it was combined
171
TABLE XVIB
1. Wages 24 - - 16 - 20 -
3 57
2. Hours - I 2 - - -
3 4
3. Demarcation - - - 2 - - - z
4
4. Redundancy - I - 2 I - - 2 6
5. Manning 16 2 2 I 9 - 9 I 34
6. Industrial
Discipline - - - - - - -
s I
7. Other Work
Arrangements 20 - - - - -
9 7 31
8. T.U. Issues - - - 2 I - - -
3
- i - - -
N.B. It should not be assumed that in any one meeting only 2 elements at most were involved. In some cases
we noted issues involving a cluster of three elements. These were: ‘Wages, Manning, Other Work
Arrangements’ - 3 times: and ‘Wages, Hours, Manning’ - once.
Indtrstral Relations in the North East Steel Industry
with any other element. This helps one to see the extent to which
particular elements were associated with each other. Again the
main quantitative conclusions may be readily seen. Wages
questions were very often self-contained, but where this was not
so, they tended to be linked with Manning and/or Other Work
Arrangements. This association of elements was clearly, in
numerical terms, the dominant theme of plant bargaining during
this period. It is also interesting to see, however, the variety of
elements with which the Manning category was linked. This
perhaps is a reflection of the fact that matters of custom and
practice in the work place, when they are called into question or
challenged, directly or indirectly impinge upon established Man-
ning arrangements. By contrast one can see that the element
Industrial Discipline is self-contained. If in fact one ranks the
elements according to the degree of diffusion they have with
other elements the picture is as follows:
Manning with five other elements. Wages, Hours and Redun-
dancy with three other elements. Other Work Arrangements
and T.U. issues with two other elements. Demarcation with
one other element.
This kind of approach does then enable one to see the ‘cluster’
of elements, which are actually found in bargaining situations:
the frequency and range of combinations. Given adequate
empirical data to work on, the possibility of intra-industry and
inter-industry comparisons looks inviting.
In Table XVIC, I have taken the analysis a step further. There
I have shown, not only the frequency with which Trade Union
officials were called in, but the extent to which they were called
in when particular combinations of elements were under dis-
cussion. One important general point which emerges is that while,
as we have seen, Wages, Manning and Work Arrangements
elements were most frequently under discussion, it was when
Trade Union issues, Demarcation and Industrial Discipline
matters came up that the trade union official was most likely to
be present. It may therefore be suggested that it is not simply the
umber of issues but the kind of issues which determines whether
the industrial relations system is under pressure - and by this
approach one is able to give more sharpness to that kind of state-
ment. Indeed, having located these areas of conflict, the case
‘73
TABLE XVIC
Element No. y. No. % No. y. No. y. No. yd, No. % No. % No. % No. y.
- - -
Industrial Other Work T.U.
Wages Hours Demarcation Manning Discipline Arrangements Issues TotaZ
-- _- -- _-
176
Indmtrial Relations in the North East Steel Indtlstv_r
the average earnings of their previous job with the firm. This is
partly done to ease the worker’s transition from one job to
another - since faced with the problem of adaptation to a new
job, he may not be able to make an adequate wage, if his wages
are related straight away to production. Or for that matter there
may be factors outside his control, which impede production
during the early commissioning of the mill. But this kind of wage
arrangement may also be sensible at the very early stage since it
is sometimes necessary for a new union branch to be formed
before effective wage negotiations can be started.
The union branches then negotiate an interim rate for the
individual jobs. This is composed of a base rate, a bonus related
to tonnage output and a cost of living adjustment.1 It is the pro-
portion of bonus allocated to individual jobs that is the critical
variable in determining the total wage. The higher up the pro-
motion ladder a job is, the greater amount of bonus in relation
to base rate that is permitted. Interim rates are established because
it is realised on both sides that any new mill presents problems
of adjustment to the men manning it and that there will be
teething problems of a technical nature. In practice this means
something like eighteen months, two years, or even longer, before
rates are finalised. Once this happens the matter is virtually closed
unless there is a major change of practice. The problem is one of
getting an adequate wage structure, such that differentials be-
tween jobs supply sufficient incentive for workers to go up the
promotion ladder (and not choose to ‘stick’ half-way up) and of
getting an appropriate wage level. It is technical change which
creates these problems, but it is recession that intensifies the
difficulties inherent in the task of wage negotiations.
If a mill is opened in time of recession, nobody really knows
what its full capacity is. Because the issue is so crucial to the whole
pattern of wages in the mill over an extended period, the union
is reluctant to accept management’s forecasts on the subject, no
matter how well-intentioned they may be. Both sides are liable to
1 The selling price sliding scale which characterised the iron and steel
industry for such an extended period was ‘suspended’ in 1940 during the
Second World War, when increasing government control and a rising cost of
living made it unrealistic. The melters’ sliding scale was stabilised at a stated
percentage and, at the same time, the cost of living adjustment was made.
See Sharp, op. cit., p. 97.
‘77
Indzlstral Relations in the North East Steel Induty
be somewhat jaundiced in their approach to the whole question.
During the recession, not only will total output be low, but the
manner in which the output is produced is not likely to inspire
confidence on the union side of management’s forecasts. This is
because the orders, when they do come, are usually smaller. This
necessitates frequent roll changes which aggravates any teething
troubles which the mill may be experiencing. Management, for
their part, will be very much concerned at such a time with costs
and are not, therefore, likely to be over-generous in their offers.
This is even true for an industry like steel that is not labour
intensive. In times of acute competition attempts are made to
minimise costs wherever the firm has some control over them.l
Let us turn now to some specific case studies.
187
Industrial Relations in the North East Steel Industry
Yet in the situation that I have been describing it is precisely
the dichotomous elements that have been made to stand out in
terms of organisation, rights and contrasting symbols as between
the various interested parties. It is the B.I.S.A.K.T.A. guide
setters, seeking to defend themselves against threats to job and
union security, who appeal to custom and practice and symbolise
this by stressing territorial differences between themselves and
the challengers. They are arrayed against the A.E.U. fitters, who
seek to maintain their skill monopoly and who appeal to the skill
differential as symbolised in the type of tools used. Management,
which would like to regard itself as an innocent and injured third
party (if not impartial) finds itself accused by B.I.S.A.K.T.A. of
having let them down, while A.E.U. members simultaneously
accuse management of procrastination. Management is to be
found, therefore, in the maelstrom of a power struggle.
The peaceful resolution of such a conflict occurs as the dicho-
tomies are shown to be in some sense false (if that is possible)
which is usually attendant upon some sort of package deal or
quid pro quo. Management, by virtue of its position is able to
take some initiative in this. Thus throughout the negotiations
and included in the final settlement was the promise that no
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. men would be made redundant if a fitter was
brought into the guide shop. The clash between job security and
skill monopoly was accordingly minimised. Similarly, it was made
plain to the B.I.S.A.K.T.A. representatives that management
was not prepared to let the A.E.U. use this case as a representative
issue, as a result of which they could touch off a series of other
claims. By containing and particularising the issue management
sought to reduce the perceived polarisation of interest, between
union security and union prerogatives. Management also, as we
have seen, sought to make the change more palatable to the
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. members by altering the physical arrangement of
the work and attempting to create a guide-fitting shop.
The final settlement, which arranged for a fitter to go into the
guide shop, also permitted the guide setters to do the final part
of the assembly work, which involved pushing two rollers into
each guide. This was accepted as a ‘necessary’ preliminary to their
task as guide setters.
During the final meeting no additional factual evidence was
presented, but the meeting was a reminder of the latent power
188
Indzhial Relations in the North East Steel Industy
which each side possessed. It was used, in effect, as a basis for
re-affirming the legitimacy of each group to govern over specified
areas. Thus the B.I.S.A.K.T.A. representative observed that his
union appreciated the increased mechanisation of rolling mills
and that there was no intention on the part of his organisation to
impinge on the work of the A.E.U. They knew the feeling the
A.E.U. had about the quality of work and skill required. It was
in B.I.S.A.K.T.A.‘s interest that this should be accepted. At the
same time, he noted that guide setting and guide assembly work
had gone on in the industry for many years and his union had to
be very careful that the A.E.U. did not take over their work.
The A.E.U., for their part, having got a fitter admitted to the
guide shop, were prepared to stress the virtues of team spirit and
to point to the abnormality of such disputes with B.I.S.A.K.T.A.
There were in fact prizes all round since, while the A.E.U.
achieved its objective, B.I.S.A.K.T.A. were able to go back to
their members and say that the guide setters could continue to
do the work they had been doing for the last four years. The
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. concession, then, was a moderate one and well
illustrates the use of casuistry in smoothing the sharp edges of an
issue. As Schelling puts it in The Strategy of Cony%?:
. . . when the opponent has resolved to make a moderate concession
one may help him by proving that he can make a moderate con-
cession consistent with his former position and that if he does there
are no grounds for believing it to reflect on his original princip1es.l
It is clear, by contrast, that where such a face-saving formula
cannot be devised; where, that is, there are ‘real’ losses attendant
upon change, in terms of job or union security, the disputes are
correspondingly more intense and intractable.
The plant in which this dispute was located was not the only
one owned by the Company. The conflict underlying this issue
arose when the Company employed in the plant five men, from
other plants in the combine. These men, it was alleged by
B.I.S.A.K.T.A., were either out of compliance, or had not been
1 Thomas C. Schelling, The Stvutesy of Con@ (O.U.P., 1963). p. 35.
‘89
Indt/sriaal Relations in the North East Steel Indz/str_y
associated at all with the union. The principle at stake was
whether in compliance B.I.S.A.K.T.A. membership took pre-
cedence over the company service. This clash of loyalties which
reflected different managerial and union perspectives was brought
into the open by the fact of recession. It is at such a time that the
union makes strenuous efforts to get its redundant members re-
employed, when any job opportunities occur.
In this case the Company claimed that it was not binding on
management to engage only B.I.S.A.K.T.A. labour and that,
until there was some national agreement on the matter, they had
a free hand in the recruitment of labour. The union claimed that
they were acting on a resolution adopted by their national execu-
tive at the beginning of the year (1963). So sure was the branch
of the orthodoxy of its position and so intense was the feeling of
the membership on the matter, that the branch indicated to
management that a request was being put through to the union’s
executive asking them to call an official strike. The use of this
ultimate sanction against an employer is extremely rare for
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. Just as in the earlier case we noted that the
semantic argument over what constitutes normal working con-
ditions reflected a genuine conflict of interest, so too in this case
did arguments over the concept of seniority. Management
indicated that they had some sympathy with the union view that
only B.I.S.A.K.T.A. members should be employed, but added
that it was difficult to see how to apply what the union were
asking for without giving up fundamental rights of management
in regard to the recruitment of labour. They agreed that the union
had an obligation to its members, but pointed out that the
Company also had an obligation to its employees when re-
dundancy arose.
A peaceful solution was achieved because it was discovered
that, in this case, there was enough area of overlap between these
conflicting principles to make a face-saving solution possible.
Three of the five men were made redundant on the grounds that
one had no previous service with the Company and the other two
had less claim to employment in terms of Company service than
other men who had just been made redundant on another plant
(and who were in compliance). In future, the Company agreed
to give preference to in compliance B.I.S.A.K.T.A. men, but
only within the Company, not the District. For its part, the
190
hdzlstrial Relations in the North East Steel Indztstr_y
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. branch recognised the Company’s right to operate
a ‘black list’. This consisted of men, who through misdemeanours
of one kind or another, were not felt to be worth re-employing.
The recession, therefore, not only brought this latent conflict
into the open, but also tended to put pressure on both sides to
formalise loose informal arrangements or ‘understandings’. The
Company had to acknowledge openly that it was prepared to
recognise the closed shop principle. B.I.S.A.K.T.A. had to accept
the legitimacy of the ‘black list’. The black list thus served the
function of saving face for management by prescribing an area
in which freedom still existed for them in the recruitment of
labour. The case serves as an instructive example of the kind of
adjustment that is necessary to accommodate conflicting principles
within the existing framework of negotiation.
1945 - - - - 0
1946 - - - - 0
1947 - - - - 0
1948 - I - - I
1949 - - - - 0
I - - I
1950
1951 - - - - 0
‘952 - - - - 0
I - - I
‘953
1954 - 4 - -
4
1955 I - - I
- - I
1956 I
1957 - - - 0
- - - I
1958 I
- - -
1959 2
1960 2 4 - - l
rg6r I 2 2 I 6
Total 3 77 3 I a4
four settlements took place in 1958 and the following three years.
These included all the Arbitration cases, the ad hoc committees
and the Industrial Court settlement, together with eight of the
seventeen matters, which were settled by neutral committees.
Indeed, the 1960-61 period accounts for exactly half of the issues
during the whole period covered.
As Table XV makes clear, this is not to be accounted for by
an increase in the numbers of production workers during the
period, for in fact the reverse was the case. Indeed, this fact lay
behind the union belief that the greater use of formal bargaining
procedures in the post 1918 period was a sign that management
was using the recession to tighten control over matters of
discipline. The use of procedures, which involve going outside
the plant for settlement of disputes, is a useful indicator of the
severity of management-union conflict. Although I am inclined
Industrial Relafions in the North East SteJ Industry
to accept the union interpretation, it should be pointed out that
the system itself did not appear to be seriously threatened at this
stage, since the absolute number of issues going through in this
way is not great. Further, it should be noted that there were
considerable differences as between firms, in the use made of such
procedures. In particular, one firm, and that not the largest, was
responsible for one ad hoc committee, nine neutral committees
and two arbitration issues, in other words, half of the total issues.
In this respect, therefore, there was not uniform pressure on the
system from all the firms in the district.
In Table XVIIB, I have classified the issues that were settled
outside the individual plant, in relation to the main content of the
question. It will be seen that they relate predominantly to wages
TABLE XVIIB
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. ANDTHE SETTLEMENTOF DISPUTES
Wages - 16 2 I 19
Hours - I - - I
Demarcation - - - - 0
Redundancy - - - - 0
Manning - - - - 0
Industrial
Discipline 3 - I - 4
Other work
Arrangements - - - - 0
T.U. issues - - - - 0
Total 3 I7 3 I 24
Length of Stoppage
Type of Issue Total
1-3 days 4-7 days Over 7 days
Wages 3 2 5 IO
Hours I - - I
Demarcation - - - 0
Redundancy - - - 0
Manning 2 I - 3
Industrial
Discipline I - - I
Other Work
Arrangements I - - I
Trade Union
Issues I - 6
s
Total 13 4 5 22
TABLE XVIIIC
Wages 6 2 - 2 IO
Hours - - - I I
Demarcation - - - - 0
Redundancy - - - - 0
Manning 2 - I -
3
Industrial
Discipline I - - -
Other work
Arrangements - I - -
Trade Union
Issues 6 - _ -
Total 15 3 I 3 22
0 ‘99
Indtlstrial Relations in the North East Steel Indzutry
gain from such action, It appeared to stem from certain moral
feelings about what is or is not ‘fair’.
Another indicator of the severity of strike activity relates to
the numbers directly involved. This is shown in Table XVIIIC.
Here we see that in two-thirds of the recorded strikes IOO or less
men were directly involved. In only 14% of the strikes were more
than 300 men directly involved. These included the Allied
Crafts strike, to which I have already referred, which arose from
the change in the basis of the tonnage bonus. There was also an
official Allied Crafts strike in I 9 16 in support of a wage claim for
all craftsmen in the industry. This strike involved the 7,000 crafts-
men then employed in the North East sector of the industry.
The only other strike in this category occurred in 19>9 when a
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. branch closed a plant down by bringing out some
800 members. The branch claimed that management had caused
short time to be worked in a way which broke a guaranteed
minimum week agreement. The case is of some interest and we
will outline it briefly.
When a straightening machine in a particular mill broke down,
on a Thursday, management sent telegrams to the nine men due
to come in on the next shift, who were affected by this break-
down, telling them not to report back until the following Monday.
The branch officials claimed that a written domestic agreement
included prior consultation with the branch before such action
could properly be taken. This condition, they asserted, had not
been fulfllled. They argued that the men should have been trans-
ferred to other work, particularly as it was near Christmas. They
felt that it was especially unfair that the men’s earnings should
have been adversely affected at such a time. Although the branch
officials acted unconstitutionally against the rules of a union which
has a reputation for keeping its representatives in line, there is no
evidence that these officials were disciplined by their national
executive in any way. The branch officials themselves maintained
that this action did lead to some improvement subsequently in
the management-union consultation procedure.
In Table XVIIID, I have shown the extent to which particular
unions were involved in strike activity during the period I 949-61.
Plainly, the craft unions were the main instigators and participants
in strike action. The relatively large number attributed to the
Boilermakers as compared to other unions is of interest but ought
200
TABLE XVIIID
UNIONS INVOLVED IN RECORDED IRON AND STEEL STRIKES ON THE NORTH EAST COAST 1949-61
-
UNION
- * 2 I 2 I I I r I 2 -
4 7.
I - - - _ - - - - - - - -
Demarcation - - - - - _ - - - - - - - -
Redundancy - - - - - _ - - - - - - - -
Manning I I - - - _ - - - - - - _ 1
Industrial
Discipline - - - I - - - - - - - - - -
Other Work
Arrangements - I - - - - - - - - - - - -
Trade Union
Issues - 6 - - - - - - - - - - _ -
--
Total 7. 12 1 3 2 I 2 I I I I I 2 I
Indztstrial Relations in the North East Steel Indg.rtty
not, perhaps to be exaggerated. It will be recalled that the five
sympathy strikes were called by members of this union. While
they were separate strikes and to some extent involved different
personnel, they were all over the same issue. Again, in two other
cases the Boilermakers acted in conjunction with other unions.
The greater militancy of the craft unions so far as strike activity
is concerned, is reflected also in the fact that they alone were
involved in strikes that lasted over a week. One case here relates
to a strike which was not exclusively confined to the steel in-
dustry. It arose when the Patternmakers came out in all Pattern-
making establishments in the North East, in 1960, on the grounds
that the employers had refused to negotiate with them over a
wage claim.
Only two strikes involved B.I.S.A.K.T.A. members during
the whole period. One of these we have discussed already. The
other dispute occurred in 1960. Fifty machine operators, who
were working under an incentive payment scheme, objected to
being taken off the job on which the incentive applied and told
to off-load material which was coming into the shop.
There were then during this period very few recorded strikes
in the North East steel industry. The typical strike was of short
duration. It was usually called by a single union and directly
involved less than IOO men. It usually occurred in a particular
plant. All the strikes which did begin in individual firms began
as ‘unofficial’ and started before negotiating procedures had been
exhausted. But most of them also might be characterised as
‘perishable’ disputes, in which a premium is placed on speed of
action in response to what is felt to be unconstitutional or unfair
managerial behaviour. They might be regarded in a sense as the
backwash arising from the belief in the sanctity of custom and
practice as the regulating principle of industrial relations. For
example, the only strike which involved a general union, the
N.U.G.M.W., was in 19j1 when 275 labourers, platers’ helpers
and loaders walked out of a plant. This was because a plater’s
helper had been transferred to a job as slinger’s helper, when the
plater he had been helping was unoccupied. The union convener
objected to the management’s decision because, he said, there
were other platers who were short of help at the time and that,
in any case, the job of slingers’ helper belonged to another union
(presumably the C.E.U.).
202
Industrial Relations in the North East Steel Indzlstr_y
There is no evidence of concerted strike action being taken by
all unions in a plant at any one time. There is a curious irony in
the fact that the nearest likelihood of that occurred in 19j 5 when
a joint strike was threatened at South Durham in an attempt to
get the Cargo Fleet plant Works Manager reinstated, as reported
in the Northern Echo during January and February. A difference
of opinion had arisen between the Managing Director and the
Works Manager as to whether or not one could get more output
with existing plant and layout. The men described the Works
Manager as ‘the most popular boss they ever had’ and said that
he had their respect and confidence. Justifying their strike threat
they observed: ‘The trades union movement has such a broad
democratic basis in opposing what we regard as injustice, that
this extends to what happens within the management . . . and we
do feel an injustice has been done’.
Conch4sion
What I have tried to show in this chapter is, first, the conjunction
of circumstances which promoted and sustained a prolonged
period of industrial peace in the British iron and steel industry,
and, in particular, its North East sector. Secondly, I have looked
at a number of salient features of the structure and functioning
of the industrial relations system of the North East steel industry
during the post-war period.
In terms of strike statistics it is quite evident that in the North
East, the industry’s reputation for industrial peace is still justified.
The vicissitudes of private and public ownership, Conservative
and Labour governments are not in any obvious way related to
the level of strike activity. Equally, we noted that the largest union
in the industry, B.I.S.A.K.T.A., did not commonly take disputes
which arose in the plant for external plant settlement. Neverthe-
less, in the post-1958 period some slack in the system was, so to
speak, taken up, insofar as increasing (though scarcely excessive)
use was made of extra-plant dispute procedures. What I would
suggest is that the sources of this strain on the system are to be
located in the organisational and technological changes which
were implemented in a climate of recession. A common union
interpretation was that the recession altered the balance of power
in management’s favour. In consequence there were, for example,
203
Indx&aZ Relations in the North East Steel Industry
managerial attempts to tighten control over matters of discipline:
In full employment, management tends to allow things in an attempt
to get 19 shifts, for which it needs a special application to the union
every week. They then, after I 918, tried to put their house in order
a little too late, which led to arbitrary behaviour. For example, on
absenteeism, which was pretty high in full employment, they have
tightened up. The men feel strongly about this . . . Also, in this
area the mill stops working at the changeover of shift times for
20-40 minutes. The national agreement says that there should be
no stoppage . . . since I 918 they have tried to implement the
agreement.
This cashing-in on their power resources might be said to
constitute a management offensive. It represents a shift from a
leniency to a stringency pattern of labour relations. But it was
also maintained by the union that, by following procedure closely
(and refusing to settle matters formally or informally at plant
level) management could use such institutional arrangements as
a defensive measure against union aggression during periods of
recession. Thus it was said: ‘Problems tend to drag on and take
a long time before being settled . . . when we had the boot on
our foot we could move more quickly. Management now are
deliberately stalling on certain issues and our lads have guessed
this.’
Here is an example of the kind of stalling tactics that could be
applied. A particular plant, because of the tight market, was look-
ing for all possible sales openings. They took on a substantial
number of orders for semi-finished material in the form of billets
for export. The craftsmen’s tonnage bonus, however, was only
paid on finished material. They claimed that, because of the
alteration in the pattern of selling, semi-finished material should
also be included - ‘it had passed through the rolls and in their
opinion was finished material so far as the Company was con-
cerned’. The matter could not be settled by the shop stewards
and the relevant District Oflicials were called in. The Company
then suggested that the matter be held over until some new mills
were completed, when the whole question of the craftsmen’s
bonus would be reviewed. This was not well received by the
unions. The Company then called for an adjournment on the
grounds that, having inspected the wording of the relevant
district agreement, they were not at all clear whether they would
204
Indzrstrial Relations in the North East Steel Indu.str_y
be correct in including semi-finished material for bonus, even
with a reduction of the bonus rate. This kind of behaviour may
not unfairly be described as the managerial equivalent of working-
to-rule.
However, the movement towards a more stringent pattern of
industrial relations has not been as great as it could have been.
In particular one suspects that managerial prerogatives on man-
ning have, on the whole, been exercised judiciously. In the first
place manning arrangements in relation to new plant and equip-
ment have not, during the period surveyed, departed quantita-
tively from traditional manning patterns in any radical way.
Secondly, and very important, the running-in period of new plant
has been a time when the original manning decisions taken by
management could be challenged by the unions in the light of
experience. Hence final agreements about rates and manning have
been collectively decided upon in the context of plant bargaining.
Since much adverse comment exists about the state of British
industrial relations, often in a very parochial perspective, it is
perhaps of interest to hear the view of the American scholar,
Abraham Siegel, on the British steel industry:
In the light of the 1919 American experience with the work rules
issue, the practices of the British bargaining machinery, for example,
with respect to the relegation of issues to the proper working level
of familiarity in the bargaining hierarchy, are certainly worth more
than a casual glance.’
Redundancy Conflict in an
Isolated Steel Community
T
HE
when different answers were given to the question ‘who
should be dismissed?‘, following a recession in trade at the
Consett Iron Company in 1961 .1 I attempt to demonstrate that by
a social-structural analysis one can obtain a clearer understanding
of the nature of such conflict. While any particular case will have
idiosyncratic features that make it unique, the mode of analysis
may be applied to other situations which have a family resem-
blance.
The paper is divided into two main sections:
I. A discussion of the extent to which a generalised belief system
exists in the country at large concerning the principles which should
govern dismissals arising from redundancy. I shall indicate some
potential sources of conflict arising from the application of any
such principles.
II. A presentation of the Consett case in the light of the above dis-
cussion. Essentially I shall ask: how the various interest groups
defined the situation confronting them. Towards what goal or goals
was their action directed? What criteria did they appeal to, what
means did they advocate and what resources did they mobilise
in the pursuit of their goals ?
1 My thanks are due to the Consett Iron Company for permission to carry
out the research and for their generous help and co-operation.
206
Redzmdang Conflict in an Isolated Steel Communit_y
(i) Acton Society Trust, Redztndancy: A Stirvey of Problems and
Practices (19j8). This work was carried out on a national basis
and reported on policies pursued by the nationalised sector of
industry and zoo firms in the private sector.
(ii) Ministry of Labour, ‘Redundancy in Great Britain’, Ministry
of Labour Gaxette, February 1963. This was another national
survey and brought up to date an earlier Ministry of Labour
publication, ‘Security and Change’. It reports on the policies of
371 private firms, industry-wide arrangements existing in the
private sector, provisions in the nationalised industries and in
National and Local Government Service.
(iii) Hilda R. K ahn, Repercxrions of Redundancy (1964).1 This
was a I in IO sample inquiry into the experiences and attitudes
of workers who were made redundant in Birmingham in 195 6.
Redundancy in this area arose mainly as a result of a temporary
recession in the car industry.
(iv) Dorothy Wedderburn, Redundanq and the Raifwaymen
(1963).~ This is a study of the impact of the railway contraction
plan, announced in 1962, upon two railway workshops: Gorton,
Manchester and Faverdale, Darlington. Redundancy in this con-
text was a direct result of structural changes taking place in the
industry.
(v) Dorothy Wedderburn, White Collar Redundany: a Case .Stu~$
(I 964).3 This was an account of a redundancy episode occurring
in a particular firm, English Electric. The redundancy arose
following the sudden cancellation, by the Government of a
defence contract for the Blue Water Guided Missile. It affected
workers in two of the firm’s plants: Stevenage and Luton.
In the two studies conducted by Wedderburn, the official re-
dundancy policies are described and the attitudes of the men
affected to these policies ascertained through interviews.
Apart from situations in which a firm closes down and all
employees are made redundant, the question ‘who should go
first?’ inevitably arises. On the evidence of the representative
studies referred to above, one may suggest that at a very general
212
Redund.znc_yCon@ in an Isolated Steel Commtmit_y
over into an industrial context. This kind of relationship has, over
the years, been profoundly modified, although at least one
manager in the Company was prepared to argue that the ‘psycho-
logical remnants of feudalism’ was still in evidence. Be that as it
may, the sense of dependence on the Company, which the
economic decline of the West Durham Coalfield served to
emphasise, was still felt and voiced. In September 1960, for
example, the then Chairman of the Consett Urban District Council
could write in the Company’s House Journal:
I feel I am voicing the public thought when I say how much we
appreciate having the Consett Iron Company as the centre of our
activities . . . and how much the inhabitants, workers, and traders,
not forgetting the Council, are dependent on the progress and
expansion which have made Consett known all over the world. . . .
The Management and the Directors are to be congratulated and
praised for their decisions (during the very difficult times) to resist
the temptation to move the works to the coast, and for the decision
to modernise and extend at Consett.
The period alluded to in the last sentence was the 1930s
Immediately before the Second World War, the Company had
set up a strip mill in Jarrow and the rumour was strong that this
was the first step of a gradual transfer of the whole Company. It
was in the recognition of this special relationship with the
surrounding community that the Company chose, as the central
plank in its redundancy arrangements, the principle of ‘last in
first out’ on a plant basis. Since the most recent arrivals were, in
the main, not Consett men, it was argued that this method was
least harmful to the community itself. Further, by operating the
rule on a plant wide basis, it meant that middle-aged men would
be less likely to suffer redundancy than younger men and, in
particular, that fathers would not be out of work while their sons
were still employed.
The rules for dismissal relating to the ascribed status, the
seniority or the needs of the participants serve, it may be
suggested, to reflect and reinforce both the in-group/out-group
dichotomy between community and non-community members,
and the internal social differentiations existing within the com-
munity.
We may notice, secondly, that, in the interests of efficiency, the
Company had to concern itself, not only with the size of its
aI3
Redtlndancy Conflict in an Isolated Steel Commtmity
labour force, but also with the quality of it. Craftsmen and
‘specialists’, either because of the conventions of existing union
rules, and/or for clear functional reasons, could be regarded as
having skills that were non-transferable, at least in any immediate
sense. The problem the Company faced in relation to these
groups was one of relative shortage of supply in the array of
skills that they represented.
When, after a long period of prosperity, a recession hits an
industry, it is usually possible to defer for a limited period any
thought of laying off maintenance craftsmen. Such workers can
be deployed in the thorough overhaul of machinery and equip-
ment. This is particularly true in a continuous shift industry. As
these tasks are completed, however, the decision then has to be
taken as to whether to make some of these men redundant or
whether to under-employ the existing manpower. In the Consett
case, bearing in mind the relative geographical isolation of the
town, to make craftsmen redundant might be to lose many of
them altogether. Given that their skills were a prerequisite of
efficient plant utilisation, a shortage of such personnel could
impair the efficiency of the Company when trade returned to
normal.
This dual concern on the part of Company policy-makers to
accommodate itself to the value system of the local community,
on the one hand, and attempt to maintain the plant as a viable
economic unit on the other hand, led to the selection of criteria
for redundancy which were at least partially conflicting. But it
was the elaboration of a particular form of compound justice.
Further, in arriving at what they regarded as the appropriate
‘mix’, the Company claimed that it was following an established
precedent: its policy was not only in line with pre-war redundancy
procedures, but also with the practice which was followed in
19j 8 - their only experience of post-war redundancy. On that
occasion, the Company maintained, the unions agreed and the
policy was put into effect ‘in a completely harmonious manner’.
We may now go on to consider the extent to which, and the
ways in which particular groups deviated from the official Com-
pany policy. Although a great deal of the debate crystallised
round the question: should the ‘last in first out’ principle be
applied on a plant or a departmental basis ? this does not in itself
bring out the complexity of the issues. In the Summary Chart of
214
Redundancy Confict in an Isolated Steel Community
the Sources of Redundancy Conflict at Consett,l I have listed the
major groups involved, their evaluation of the character of the
recession, their goal orientation in relation to redundancy policy
and the instrumental behaviour they adopted in an attempt to
achieve their goals. It now remains to work through this and to
describe and to analyse the conflict in terms of the social processes
involved.
On the grounds that their function is essential, the craftsmen
were exempted from the redundancy procedure. Therefore,
objections from the craft unions were not to be expected and,
with the exception of the E.T.U., they were not forthcoming.
The E.T.U., however, included electricians’ mates within its
membership. The union argued, on their behalf, that the electrical
department, including mates, should be regarded as a separate
maintenance department and that any necessary redundancy of
craftsmen’s mates should be treated solely with reference to
departmental needs. The E.T.U. position may be viewed in the
light of the fact that B.I.S.A.K.T.A. had competing claims for
the allegiance of craftsmen’s mates. The Company scheme of the
plant-wide seniority rule involved the transfer of men between
departments. This meant that B.I.S.A.K.T.A. men would in-
evitably infiltrate into the Electrical Department. The E.T.U. had
not always organised craftsmen’s mates, hence the fear that the
Company scheme would lead to a reversal of the union’s fortunes
in this respect. Indeed, in subsequent discussion with the Com-
pany, there were differences of opinion concerning how many
electricians’ mates were in the E.T.U. and how many in
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. The E.T.U. claimed that all the men were in
their union, but the existence of a debate on a factual question
perhaps indicates the relative insecurity of the E.T.U. in relation
to the organisation of this group. To oppose the scheme would
be to indicate to the mates that the union had their interests at
heart. By denoting electricians mates as a class distinct from other
labourers, who should not go into the general category of inter-
changeable labour, the number of E.T.U. men made redundant
would be minimised. At the same time, if successful, the opposi-
tion would be of strategic value to the E.T.U. in that, effectively,
a single union department would have been established. In that
the Electrical Department did have a well established, auto-
l See below, pp. 226-8.
P 215
Redundanc_yConj%ct in an Isolated Steel Community
nomous and acceptable consultative system, the union’s attempt
to draw the boundary line there was understandable. The difficulty
was, however, that if the electricians’ mates were to be treated
as a special category, then what about the fitters’ mates? The
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. branch to which fitters’ mates belonged also
wanted redundancy to operate on a departmental basis. The Joint
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. Branches Committee in the plant did not support
this view, however, for reasons which we discuss below. This
gave added strength to the Company’s position when it came to
negotiating with the E.T.U. area official. Further, the Company
was able to point out that the union was a signatory to a 1942
domestic agreement, which gave the firm the right to deploy its
labourers and dispense with them as it saw fit.
It is significant that, even under stress, the E.T.U. official was
prepared to accept as binding an agreement into which his union
had voluntarily entered, and overt conflict was in this case
avoided. This is not to say that in the light of the current
experience, the union might not subsequently seek to revoke or
change the agreement by constitutional means. Indeed, the union
official indicated that the whole question would be re-opened
when normal working conditions were resumed at the works.
It is also worth noting that there has been a tendency in the
steel industry on the part of management to try and get away
from the one for one craftsman/mate ratio. It is possible, though
by no means clear, that the E.T.U. was worried that the recession
might result in changes of this kind. Clearly, to have all the mates
in their union, should such an issue manifest itself, would add to
their bargaining strength. And organisational changes of this sort
could be more readily disguised if redundancy operated on a
plant-wide basis.
Although the E.T.U.‘s objections led to a skirmish with the
Company, it was the dissent of the National Union of Blast-
furnacemen which had the widest repercussions. The N.U.B., like
the E.T.U., was concerned to maintain union control of jobs in
particular departments. It resisted, therefore, the suggestion that
redundancy procedures should operate on a plant-wide basis,
since this would involve the transfer of B.I.S.A.K.T.A. members
into the Blast Furnaces and Coke Works Departments. This they
regarded as infiltration. In any case, there was a further advantage
to be gained from departmentally based redundancy schemes. It
216
Redtlndancy Confrct in an Isolated Steel Commtlnit_y
is the finishing processes that suffer first in the event of a re-
dundancy and, bearing this in mind, the N.U.B. members would
be the last to suffer from the effects of recession. But the union
felt that there were impartial grounds on which its positon could
be justified. When, therefore, N.U.B. members were dismissed
under the official redundancy arrangements, the union took the
case through the negotiating procedure, appealing on behaIf of
its members on the grounds of wrongful dismissal.
In its appeal, which went outside the Company to an ad hoc
Joint Committee and then to National Arbitration, the N.U.B.
demonstrated that, in the steel industry at large, it was common
practice to operate redundancy procedures on a departmenta
basis. Recent examples were brought forward from South Dur-
ham and Dorman Long as evidence. These firms were in the
same region, the North East Coast, and this perhaps gave added
strength to the union’s case, for the Company was not in a
position to suggest that there were regional agreements that
differed from national practice. In making this point, it is clear
that the N.U.B. was not accepting as valid the distinctive com-
munity frame of reference on which the Company placed so much
emphasis. Instead it implied that a standardised redundancy pro-
cedure applicable throughout the industry was a preferable and
more just solution. Insofar as it could portray the Company as
being out of step with other firms in the industry (with the
implication that its geographical position did not entitle it to
special consideration) it could hope to gain the sympathy of the
arbitrator. The Company challenged the validity of the union’s
contention. It maintained that in all the cases cited there was an
important difference. The redundancies did not occur in integrated
steel works such as Consett but on sites where there was only
one type of plant and hence, it was argued, the question under
discussion at Consett did not arise. This is a fine point in that the
plants in question were parts of wider combines, but it represents
a difference of opinion with the union over the substantive content
of the industrial rule of law on this point.
The N.U.B. went on to challenge the consistency of a Company
policy which operated a system of promotion by seniority on a
departmental basis for production workers, while, at the same
time, adhering to a system of redundancy and demotion on a
plant-wide basis. The contradiction lay in the fact that plant-wide
217
Redundany Confict in an Isolated Steel Communit_
redundancy resulted in inter-departmental transfers, but the men
who were so transferred were replacing men to whom, in depart-
mental terms, they were inevitably junior. Thus the custom and
practice of the seniority system was held to invalidate the
redundancy procedure.
Finally, the N.U.B. questioned the procedural method by which
the redundancy was handled. They did not accept the right of
the Joint Consultative Committee to make decisions about re-
dundancy, which could be regarded as in any way binding on
individual unions. In this they were constitutionally correct. The
1946 Agreement between the Iron and Steel Trades Employers’
Association and the N.U.B.:
Provides the following machinery for dealing with questions affect-
ing blast furnaces, which is characteristic of procedures both written
and unwritten in the industry:
I. Questions of a general character are to be dealt with at meetings
between representatives of the Association and of the Union.
2. Differences at individual works are to be dealt with in the first
place between the works management and the workmen con-
cerned. The workmen have the right to call in the works’
delegate and/or the district official of the union and the manage-
ment likewise have the right to call in a district association or a
district sectional official . . .l
The high degree of consensus on the Joint Consultative Com-
mittee, to which the Company could rightly point, was therefore
set aside by the N.U.B. as irrelevant since, in procedural terms
it was not a decision taking body.
On the basis of these contentions the N.U.B. claimed that,
although it was in a minority camp vis-a-vis other unions, it was
still justified in appealing against wrongful dismissal on behalf
of its members. The Arbitrator upheld the union’s claim. In his
summing up he observed:
There is no material difference between the parties on matters of
fact so far as the present dispute is concerned. Further, both agree
that seniority in the sense of length of service should be the decisive
factor in determining which men should be declared redundant.
The difference lies in how seniority should be defined. It is clear
The Company and the trade unions both recognised that the Con-
sultative Committee is not the negotiating body but it is the medium
by which the firm notifies the trade union representatives of major
policies, then leaving it to the union to go back to their members
after the official statement to see what would be their line of
approach; then for the unions to contact the firm through their
negotiating machinery whether they agree or not to the suggestions
outlined by the firm.
219
Redtlnd?nc_yConfEiGtin an Isolated Steei Community
For B.I.S.A.K.T.A. a collective decision was taken in favour of
the Company’s policy, but this decision was not reached without
inter-branch conflict. Each B.I.S.A.K.T.A. branch has a jealously
guarded autonomy in negotiating with the firm. The role of the
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. Joint Branches Committee is, therefore, a very
delicate one. Its formal scope is laid down in Rule 16 of the
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. Rule Book:
For the purpose of co-ordination and consultation on matters of
common and general interest to the members, the Executive Council
shall authorise where it considers necessary, the establishment of
Joint Committees at works where there are a number of branches
of the organisation or in an area within the division. It shall draw
up standing orders under which such committees shall function so
as to ensure that they do not in any way encroach upon the autonomy
of the branches nor interfere with the functioning of negotiating
machinery existing in the various sections of the industry.
The practical problem is: when does legitimate co-ordination
become illegitimate coercion ? Two of the branches wanted the
seniority rule to be applied on a departmental basis. The case of
the fitters’ mates we have already discussed. In the same branch
were the general labourers. These mainly were composed of
recent entrants. They belonged to a pool of labour before going
on to particular promotion lines, and as such were allocated to
various departments. As a group they were very much at risk
when it came to redundancy, but more of their members were
likely to be sheltered if dismissal was departmentally based. The
other dissenting branch was a small stocktakers’ branch. They
not only favoured the departmental ruling but also felt that they
should be classified as specialists and thus kept in employment.
The sensitivity of the branches to their independent status was
reflected in the fact that charges of unwarranted interference of
branch officials in the affairs of other branches were sent to the
Executive Council of the union. Neither the validity of these
charges nor the outcome is known, but they are obvious symp-
toms of inter-branch conflict.
The presentation of a united front, as symbolised in the joint
statement to the Arbitrator is most likely to be attributed to the
political expertise of two union ‘elder statesmen’ who, besides
holding senior branch positions, were lay members of the union’s
National Executive Council. Their leadership, in Weberian terms,
220
Redundancy ConfEit in an Isolated Steel Community
was based on a mixture of traditional and legal components. They
had been union officials for many years and were commonly re-
elected without opposition, but they were of course elected on
the basis of the union constitution. It was not impossible for
them so to structure the situation that a majority vote on the
B.I.S.A.K.T.A. Joint Committee would constitute a democratic
decision of B.I.S.A.K.T.A. The Joint Committee could then act
as a means of social control bringing deviant branches into line
with ‘oflicial’ union policy. To put it another way, the Joint
Branches Committee effectively prescribed what was the legi-
timate response to the redundancy situation and this circum-
scribed the decision-making role of individual branches.
(b) The joint statement to the Arbitrator re-affirmed the Com-
pany’s recognition of its special relationship with the Consett
community. Given the hope that this was a temporary recession,
it was argued that ‘last in first out’ on a Company basis was a fair
and equitable basis and the best method suitable to that particular
time. It was stated that the men of Consett ‘have got their
commitments and ties in the town . . . and have been very good
workers’. The cross-cutting ties of the Company and community
were emphasised when the writer went on to observe:
We stressed very strongly that we did not want to use this for
individual trade union advantage because it was dangerous for a
community like ours where recession at all times brings hardship
to create any friction between respective unions.
1 L. Coser, The Ftmnctions of Social Conflict (Routledge and Kegan Paul, I y 5 6),
P. 69.
222
Redmhxy Con~%ctin an IsoZated Steel Commtmit_y
their awareness of the issues at stake, and for an increase in par-
ticipation; in short, the danger signal brings about the mobilisation
of all group defences. Just because the struggle concentrates the
group’s energies for purposes of self-defence, it ties the members
more closely to each other and promotes group integration.1
The Arbitration award to the N.U.B. meant that, in order to
accommodate the legitimated minority view and the strongly held
majority union view any future redundancies would have to be
worked out partly on a plant-wide basis and partly on a depart-
mental basis. This gave added administrative difficulty and,
indeed, a small redundancy which was attempted on this mixed
basis proved very troublesome to handle. This tended to lead to
a situation in which work sharing was preferred to redundancy.2
I have left until last those whom we have characterised as
management dissentients. These men were not an organised
group as such, but it was noticeable that at middle management
level there was a tendency to support the view that departmentally
based redundancy was preferable to considerations of plant-wide
redundancy. The rationale behind this view may be briefly
enumerated :
I. Redundancy on a plant-wide basis with the concomitant
inter-departmental transfers of work-people involves an initial re-
training programme. In practice this training was frequently given
to them by the men whom they were going to replace. This could
not be an easy relationship to sustain, Sometimes the trainer
would leave before the new occupant of the job was fully trained.
z. Newness in a job characteristically gives rise to poorer
workmanship. This was reflected in an increased wastage on
scrap. The firm was, in consequence, losing in competitive
strength at a time when it was most needed.
3. It was felt that the official Company policy gave rise to an
inordinate loss of younger men. It was pointed out, for example,
that it was the younger men who went out in the redundancy of
1958. Now, 22 months later, many of them were out of work
again. Because I 9 38 was the first post-war redundancy to hit the
1 Ibid., p. 71.
2 Even on this, the N.U.B. found themselves out of step with the majority.
After a period of work sharing they had a secret ballot on whether to con-
tinue or whether to have redundancy in the department by seniority. They
chose the latter course.
aa3
Redundary Conjict in an Isolated Steel Commzmi~
firm it was, perhaps, not too difficult to adopt the ‘it can happen
once but it won’t happen again’ attitude. But a repeat episode in
1961 was bound to create much more uncertainty and to bring
thoughts of migration to the fore. In that young men tend to be
more foot-loose, it could reasonably be argued that the Company’s
policy, so far as it emphasised seniority of service as a criterion
of discrimination (particularly in its plant-based form) was liable
to accelerate a movement away from the area. It was in fact
estimated by the Personnel Department of the Company that of
the 600 men who lost their jobs, some 50% were lost to the firm -
though possibly not all of them permanently. But certainly the
loss of confidence on the part of the younger generation in the
area as a source of job opportunities and economic security,
insofar as it encouraged migration, would lead to an ageing work
population and a declining community.
4. There was, finally, the secondary re-training problem which,
it was pointed out, would emerge as the recession began to lift.
As that happened, men who had been transferred were given the
choice of staying in their present job or reverting to their old
one. Those who chose to stay in their present job, might well
cause the men whom they replaced, and who were now returning,
to take a different kind of job, for which they would need some
training. Conversely, those who chose to return to their old jobs
would theoretically be replaced by the returning original in-
cumbents of the job. But not all of the men who were made
redundant did return and the men who actually took the jobs
might need special training.
It is likely that the tendency of middle management to think
in this way was a function of the immediacy of responsibility for
output which was theirs. The Company policy-makers, for their
part, were aware that the plant-wide method of redundancy
involved them in more administrative cost and inconvenience,
but they argued that this was a positive indication of their good
faith towards the Consett community. The essence of the alterna-
tive view put forward here was that such good faith was best
expressed by an over-riding concern with competitive efficiency.
As one proponent of this view put it:
The plant is detached from the rest of the steel industry and there-
fore there is a need to be very competitive. The area as a whole
depends on the plant. There is a humanitarian or community aspect
224
Redtln&zc_y Conficcf in an Isolated Steel Commun&y
in our stress on efficiency. We do this in the men’s interest as well
as our own.
In other words the conviction was expressed that while in the
short run the official policy on redundancy might promote a
feeling of well-being in the community, in the long run the pro-
posed solution might defeat the ends it purported to serve,
namely, the survival and welfare of the community.
Conclwion
I have sought in this account to locate the sources and levels of
inter-group conflict, which arose in relation to the Company’s
official redundancy dismissal policy. In order to do this effectively
the problem was first placed in the context of the generalised
belief system concerning redundancy procedures for dismissal,
as revealed in surveys undertaken on the subject in this country.
The particular case studied here showed no basic disagreement
with the legitimacy of the generalised belief system and in that
sense at least it may be said to be a ‘representative’ case study.
At the same time, to do justice to the social processes involved
in the particular case, it has been necessary to seek to understand
the ways in which the various groups perceived their interests
and defined the situation in which they found themselves.
As one proceeds to analyse the issue in this way, it becomes
evident that one may talk meaningfully about the existence of
competing rationalities : since strong logical arguments are
advanced on the basis of different value assumptions. The implica-
tion is that one cannot speak of ‘pure rationality’. Each system
of rationality is bounded by evaluative considerations of what is
the desirable end(s) to achieve and by normative considerations
of what are the appropriate means to utilise in attaining such an
end(s). Both these sets of considerations are themselves based on
calculations which are typically imperfect of the costs and con-
sequences of particular actions.
The sociologist, by using the method advocated by Max Weber,
of ‘subjective understanding’ may seek in a systematic way to
make explicit the value assumptions, which underlie the behaviour
of the interested parties. This approach takes conflicts of interest
as a normal feature of social relations. But, at the same time, it
would be a mistake to conclude that value assumptions are
Redundancy Confict in an Isolated Steel Communit3,
necessarily ‘closed’ categories (or ‘sentiments’, as the Hawthorne
investigators and others have called them). They are at least in
some measure amenable to attention by the impact of empirical
evidence. For example, one would expect that the evaluation of
the character of the recession is something which can be affected
by the introduction of new information. Or again, through inter-
group discussion, agreement may be reached about the priority
of goals, or accommodation may be reached over the extent to
which conflicting goals may be attained. One is not of course
suggesting that this is automatically the case over all issues. But,
insofar as it is so, the positive implication for management is that
by contributing to a greater cognitive awareness of a particular
situation, sociological analysis may aid managerial skills in
minimising conflicts of interest.l
AT CONSETT
l It remains the case however, that since perception is selective, there are
built in constraints which will affect the degree of acceptance of a cognitive
statement issued by a member of an ‘opposing’ group, even when evidence
is brought forward, to substantiate it.
226
Redmday Confzict in an Isolated Steel Commt/nit_y
227
Redmdancy Conflict in an Isolated Steel Commztnit_y
SUMMARY CHART OF THE SOURCES OF REDUNDANCY CONFLICT
AT CONSETT-CO&.
228
APPENDIX A
1 This Appendix is based upon, but not identical with, a broadcast talk
given in January 196G, in the B.B.C. study series, ‘The Sphere of the
Sociologist’.
2 T. B. Bottomore and M. Rubel (eds.) Karl Marx. Selected Writings in
Sociology and Social Philosophy (Penguin, 1963), p. I IO.
sIbid, p. III.
229
Appendix A
of the impact of industrialism on the division of labour. But it
helps to explain the assessment of the trend.
‘The stunting of man’s faculties,’ claims Engels, ‘grows in the
same measure as the division of labour which attains its highest
development in manufacturing. Manufacturing splits up each
trade into its separate fractional operations, allots each of them
to an individual labourer as his life calling and then claims him
for life to a particular detail function and a particular tool. And
not only labourers, but also the classes directly or indirectly
exploiting the labourers are made subject through the division
of labour to the tool of their function.”
Durkheim, in his celebrated book on the division of labour,
unlike Marx and Engels, stresses in many places the social benefits
which a properly co-ordinated and agreed upon division of tasks
can confer upon a society. Yet he also recognises that industrial
societies may be prone to certain ‘abnormal’ forms of the division
of labour, which may be de-humanising in their effects on the
individual :
Q 231
Appendix A
team relations and can accordingly influence the degree to which
the worker can become part of an effective pressure group and
thus exercise some control over the conditions of his work
situation. Some groups lack sufficient internal cohesion to imple-
ment their demands or even formulate them to management;
other elite groups performing essential tasks rarely have to fight
for their rights since they are usually conceded by management;
but in still other situations groups are sufficiently mobilised to
fight for their rights but these are not automatically granted by
management. Such an approach has interesting implications when
considering the industrial relations climate of a plant. Sayles
identifies and illustrates the kind of work situation in which overt
conflict is likely to occur:
Serious problems are likely to occur in that middle ground between
jobs which are obviously machine- or management-paced and jobs
over which the employee retains a large degree of controls, as is
true of craft occupations. A good example in the middle range is
the trim line in plants manufacturing automobile bodies. Manage-
ment has developed extensive time studies to support the speed at
which the line moves - all without worker control. But employees
in the department have never given up insisting that time studies
are not accurate, that the recalitrance of trim materials (cloth) and
the ‘judgmental’ qualities of their jobs make many of these studies
inaccurate. The continuous struggle caused by the differences
between the rates demanded by employees is one of the outstanding
sources of wildcat strikes in the automobile industry.1
Much assembly line work, however, is such that the worker
has little control over the pace, rhythm, quality or method of
work. Most contemporary observers would certainly agree that
these are the marks of alienation. Highly rationalised production
control provides a text book example of the scientific manage-
ment concern to transfer intelligence from the shop floor. Yet the
militance of car workers, in spite of, or through their unions is
a by-word, which suggests that such workers do not passively
accept their alienated condition. Similarly Warner and Low’s well
documented account of the strike at Newburyport in the New
England shoe industry, is seen as a response to the supplanting
of craft techniques of manufacture by mass production techniques.
As control over job content, techniques and standards was taken
1 L. Sayles, The Behauior of Indwtrial Work Groups (Wiley, 1958), p. 65.
a32
Appendix A
from the worker, he reacted by linking up with a national union
organisation whose collective resources and bargaining expertise
ensured that he was not left powerless.
But in any case, as Robert Blauner has pointed out in his
significant book Alienation and Freedom, technological progress is
not always associated with an increasingly minute sub-division
of labour, as the earlier sociologists tended to assume. In con-
tinuous process industries, such as chemicals, the opportunities
for a worker to play a vital part in operating and maintaining
expensive plant are stressed. The result, in his opinion, is ‘mean-
ingful work in a more cohesive, integrated industrial climate . . .
new dignity from responsibility and a sense of individual
function.‘l
More generally, the possibility that work may be humanised
as automated forms of production are applied to large scale
industry, where technically and economically feasible, has been
discussed by a number of writers, notably the French sociologist
Georges Friedmann. He sees them as eliminating the need for
semi-skilled machine operators, generating a demand for a new
artisan class and new skills involving the creation and regulation
of delicate and precise equipment and, in so doing, restoring an
intellectual quality to work. Automation, in his judgment, con-
stitutes a new stage in the dialectics of mechanisation and, at the
same time grounds for hope rather than pessimism for those
working with such productive systems.
When one turns to the treatment of bureaucracy in industrial
society one finds again that the tradition of sociological pessimism
has left its mark. It is indeed embellished in the late C. Wright
Mills’ study of the American Middle Classes, lI%te Collar. The
office worker is seen as subject to standardised and mechanised
oflice routines. He is not a person by simply ‘an item in an
enormous file’. The centrality of the selling function is viewed
with grave misgivings by Mills. The salesmen are depicted as
alienated from themselves, since their very personalities, their
smiles and their kindly gestures, are exploited in the selling
situation for their commercial relevance. Even the old professions
of law, medicine and teaching are regarded as falling bastions of
freedom. Since they now operate typically in bureaucratic con-
texts the result in Mills’ view is to reduce the status of the pro-
* R. Blauner, Alienation and Freedom (Wiley, 1964).
233
Appendix A
fessional to that of a technician who purveys packaged advice of
one sort or another. Needless to say, Mills is not impressed with
studies which purport to show that many white collar workers
are satisfied with their jobs. Such sentiments simply reflect the
morale of cheerful robots. ‘Whatever satisfaction alienated men
gain from work occurs within the framework of alienation’.
Mills’ emphasis on the negative aspects of white collar work is
too selective and impressionistic to be really convincing. Certainly
the uniformly oppressive nature of bureaucracy is contested by
other writers. Alvin Gouldner, for example, argues that for too
long the study of bureaucracy has been associated with what he
calls a mood of metaphysical pathos. In his study of an American
gypsum plant he shows that not all bureaucratic rules are imposed
from above unilaterally. Some rules may be the product of dis-
cussion and be regarded as beneficial to the parties concerned
rather than crippling. In this respect it makes sense to talk about
representative bureaucracy.
But whether rules are representatively based or not, they may
often be manipulated by people who are allegedly controlled by
them. Rules governing appointments, promotion and even the
job classifications on which salary scales are based, may in fact be
subject to bargaining and personal influence. Melville Dalton’s
colourful study Men Who Manage, is in large measure a description
of the ways in which rules are used as bargaining counters. ‘To
those with power and using power,’ he writes, ‘rules and pro-
cedures were not sacred guides but working tools to be revised,
ignored or dropped as required in striking successive balances
between company goals on the one side and their personal ends
and the claims of their supporters on the other . . .’ Those who
barely filled their offices were all rule devotees. ‘They resisted
change and were quick to fear any clique activity and to label it
as “dirty”.’ Those who worked through cliques tended for their
part to view it as ‘a way of dealing with situations that were too
urgent and dynamic for formal handling’.l
What current research into bureaucratic organisations has
tended to emphasise, is that while a precisely delineated division
of labour based on hierarchical authority may be efficient for
conditions in which past decisions and patterns of behaviour are
a reliable guide for the future, in conditions of rapid social and
1 M. Dalton, Mm Who Manage (Wiley, 1g5g), pp. 30-1.
a34
Appendix A
economic change other arrangements may be more appropriate.
The electronics industry, for example, needs managers who have
to search for innovations which will give them an edge in a highly
competitive market, and, at the same time adapt to and live with
the innovations of their competitors. Roles may be blurred, com-
munications may be problem-centred based on technical know-
ledge and expertise rather than formal authority. The demand for
flexibility of behaviour in such a context makes the alleged
conformity of the organisation man pathological and ritualistic.
It is for these and other reasons that Michael Crazier puts forward,
albeit with qualifications, the view that ‘contrary to the fear of
so many humanists and revolutionary prophets of doom, we can
expect more promises of liberalisation than standardisation’.l
Contemporary sociological writing has, then, continued to
handle these great themes of the influence of technology and
bureaucracy on man in industrial society. But insofar as it stresses
the diversity of work experiences which may co-exist within these
frameworks there is less readiness to speak in global terms about
the lot of industrial man and the plight of the bureaucrat. Aliena-
tion may be a risk but it is not always a reality. And not all the
signposts point in the direction of increasing alienation. To this
extent modern sociology speaks the language of guarded optim-
ism. No doubt Marx and Wright Mills are muttering in the wings
that it is also the language of false consciousness !
An Example of a
Demarcation Procedural and
Apportionment Agreement
DEMARCATION PROCEDURE
I be substituted
of the Notes
Engineers’
for and supersede
appended
and Plumbers’ Work,
that laid down in Clause 8
to the List of Apportionment
dated 14 September 1914,
of
viz. :
LIST OF APPORTIONMENT OF
ENGINEERS’ AND PLUMBERS’ WORK
ITEM ONE
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Valve Boxes complete. Cast Iron Flanged Pipes
Cast Iron Flanged Pipes complete on repair work, ex-
complete on new work; and on cept in Boiler Rooms, Engine
repair work in Boiler Rooms, Rooms and Tunnels - outside
Engine Rooms and Tunnels - of Double Bottom.
outside of Double Bottom. Wrought Iron or Steel Pipes,
Wrought Iron or Steel Pipes, with rough or unfaced flanges
with flanges machined or faced, and screwed ferrule joints, to
to fix, joint and strap. fix, joint and strap.
Make template, bend and fit
Copper Pipes complete, in- all wrought iron or steel pipes.
&ding jointing to pipes of Lead Pipes complete, in-
any other material except lead. eluding jointing to pipes of
any other material.
239
Appendix B
ITEM TWO
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Fit and fix to steel decks Fit and fix pump extension
Downton and Hand Deck chambers, if of lead, wrought
Pumps, with their mechanical iron, or steel.
gearing, also valves and deck
change plates in connection Lead Pipes complete.
therewith, including pump ex- Wrought Iron or Steel Pipes
tension chambers, other than complete, in&ding bending.
lead, wrought iron, or steel. Foot Valves, Deck, Bulk-
Copper Pipes complete. head, and Ship Side fittings
Cast Iron Pipes complete. connecting to the foregoing
pipes.
Foot Valves, Deck, Bulk-
head, and Ship Side fittings
connecting to the foregoing
pipes.
ITEM THREE
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Magazine direct Flooding Lead Pipes complete.
Pipes and Valves. Drain Pipes from intermed-
Copper Pipes complete. iate decks and flats to ship’s
Cast Iron Pipes complete. Bottom, including valves not
Drain Pipes from Barbettes attached to Ship’s deck or
and Torpedo Tubes, also from structure, also drains from
Torpedo Rooms when they Torpedo Rooms when led
join either of the former as a independentIy to the Ship’s
combined drain to the Ship’s Bottom, to fix, joint and strap.
Bottom, to fix, joint and strap.
Fit and fix valves attached Fit and joint Wrought Iron
to ship’s deck or structure, in- deck pieces.
cluding gearing complete.
Fit and joint cast deck pieces.
All Pipes and Valves which are Suctions from bilges or other corn
partments are provided for under Item I.
240
Appendix B
ITEM FOUR
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Fit and fit Scupper Valves Fit and fix Scupper Valves
attached to side and bottom of to side and bottom of Mer-
War Vessels, and where they chant Vessels excepting where
are required to be chipped and they are required to be chipped
filed to place on Merchant and filed to place.
Vessels. Scupper Pipes complete.
ITEM FIVE
PLUMBERS
Sounding Pipes, Air, Over-
flow, and independent Filling
Pipes for Fresh and Salt Water
Tanks, Ballast Tanks, and Fore
and After Peaks complete.
ITEM SIX
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Copper and Brass Pipes com- Lead Pipes complete.
plete. Wrought Iron or Steel Pipes
Wrought Iron or Steel Pipes to fix, joint and strap all pipes
on engines to fix, joint and except those on engines.
strap.
Appendix B
ITEM SEVEN
ITEM EIGHT
ITEM NINE
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Work complete on War Work complete on Merchant
Vessels. Vessels, excepting Copper
Copper Pipes complete on Pipes.
Merchant Vessels.
ITEM ELEVEN
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Steam, Exhaust, and Drain Steam, Exhaust, and Drain
Pipes, when of Copper or Cast Pipes, when of Wrought Iron,
Iron, complete. complete.
Steam Pipes, when of Steel, Exhaust and Drain Pipes,
to fix, joint and strap. when of Steel, to fix, joint and
strap.
ITEM TWELVE
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Work complete on War Work complete on Merchant
Vessels. Vessels.
ITEM THIRTEEN
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Fit and fix Automatic Valves Fit and fix Magazine Cooling
and Valves of the Sluice Type. Pipes, also Ventilating Pipes
and Louvres.
243
Appendix B
ITEM FOURTEEN
ITEM FIFTEEN
Pipes and Connections for Bulk Oil Cargoes, and Oil Fuel
for the Engines and Boilers.
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Cargo Filling, Suction and Running up with lead of
Discharge Pipes complete, in- Thimbles, or Expansion Joints.
cluding Cofferdam and Pump
Room Suction Connections. Fuel Filling and Suction
Valves, Deck Pieces and Pipes complete on Merchant
Branch Pipes complete from Vessels except when of copper.
Steam and Exhaust Pipes on Heating and Steaming-out
Deck to Heating and Steam- Pipes inside Oil Cargo and
ing-out Pipes inside Oil Cargo Fuel Compartments complete
and Fuel Compartments. on Merchant Vessels except
Fuel Discharge Pipes to when of copper.
Engines and Boilers, to fix, Gas Escape Pipes complete,
joint and strap. except when of copper.
Fuel Filling and Suction
Pipes complete on War Ves-
sels.
Fuel Heating Pipes complete
on War Vessels.
Copper Pipes complete.
Deck Steam and Exhaust Pipes follow the line of demarcation as in
Item II.
This item to apply to installations for Molasses or other liquid cargoes
carried in bulk.
a44
Appendix B
ITEM SIXTEEN
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Cocks, Valves and Fittings Cocks, Valves and Fittings
in continuation of Pipes fixed in continuation of Pipes fixed
by Engineers. by Plumbers.
Gearing and Rods to Cocks
and Valves, including Univer- Fit and fix Wrought Iron or
sal and other Joints, Stuffing Steel Pipes for protection of
Boxes and Bushes. valve rods, except when tubes
Fit and fix Wrought Iron or are split in halves and secured
Steel Pipes for protection of by tap bolts.
valve rods when tubes are split
in halves and secured by tap
bolts.
ITEM SEVENTEEN
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
All valves. Cocks on Merchant Vessels.
Cocks on War Vessels. Fit and Fix Wrought Iron
Gearing and Rods to Cocks or Steel Pipes for protection
and Valves, including Univer- of Valve Rods.
sal and other Joints, Stuffing
Boxes and Bushes.
ITEM EIGHTEEN
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
On work done by Engineers. On work done by Plumbers.
a41
Appendix B
ITEM NINETEEN
Works Plant.
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Steam and Exhaust Pipes Steam Heating Pipes of
complete. Copper, with screwed joints
Steam Heating Pipes of complete.
Copper, with flanged joints Steam Heating Pipes of
complete. Wrought Iron or Steel com-
Hydraulic Pressure and Re- plete.
turn Water Pipes complete. Gas Pipes complete.
Compressed Air Pipes, when Water Pipes complete for all
of Cast Iron, complete with purposes except hydraulic.
valves and fittings. All pipes Lead Pipes complete.
and connections between Com- Running up with lead of
pressors and 1st Reservoirs. spigot and faucet joints.
Compressed Air Pipes, when
of Wrought Iron or Steel, com-
plete, including cocks, valves,
fittings, hoses and their con-
nections.
ITEM TWENTY
Sundries.
ENGINEERS PLUMBERS
Fixing, jointing and strap- Chemical Fire Extinguishing
ping the following: and Disinfecting Pipes, Valves
Internal Pipes for Boilers. and Fittings complete.
Boiler Feeds and Suctions. Filling Pipes to Oil Store
Main and Auxiliary Steam Tanks complete.
Pipes. Ash Cooling Pipes when of
Waste Steam Pipes. lead complete.
Ash Cooling Pipes, except Brine Pipes complete.
when of lead. Metal Lining of Store
Oil Cooling and Oil Service Rooms, etc.
Pipes.
Water Cooling Pipes on In-
ternal Combustion Engines.
Hydraulic Pipes on board
ship.
Pipes and fittings for compressed air when used for power purposes on
board ship to follow the apportionment laid down for Steam Pipes.
246
Appendix B
NOTES
I. Where the word ‘complete’ is used, it includes marking all holes
making template, fitting and fixing, jointing and strapping.
2. Screwing and fitting of flanges to be done at the option of Em-
ployers.
3. Making templates for, and bending of Wrought Iron and Welded
Steel Pipes to be done by Plumbers.
4. When a joint has to be made between pipes or fittings fixed by
Engineers and pipes or fittings fixed by Plumbers, it shall, failing
agreement between the two trades, be done as directed by the
Employer.
5. In the foregoing List the purpose for which any installation or
fitting is primarily required is to decide its title; subsidiary or emer-
gency connections and uses are not to affect the apportionment.
6. This apportionment List is for the purpose of regulating work
between Engineers and Plumbers only, and does not award it to either
of the foregoing to the exclusion of other trades.
7. This List shall come into operation on 19 October 1914, for all
jobs not actually started, but work on all jobs in progress shall be
finished by the respective Trades under existing conditions.
*8. The undersigned as the Revision Committee, shall decide any
question that may arise as to the interpretation or application of any
of the items in the foregoing List:
Status in Steel
T
HE
cussion between four blue collar workers in a Steel
company, members of a W.E.A. class and two research
workers. Names are not revealed and the company not identified
in this edited version. The discussion centres on various kinds
of status distinction evident in the Steel industry and the group
members’ perception of the significance of the distinctions and
the factors affecting them. The earlier part of the discussion, not
reported here, dealt with status distinctions between clerical and
manual workers. We take up the discussion as a research worker
is turning the group’s attention to a new set of status considera-
tions: those linked with the seniority system on the production
side of the plant:
Research Worker: Well, I think we will just move off this note for a bit
and move to a different aspect of status and this is concerned with
the question of the age of different workers. Now this, I think, is
particularly relevant to the production side of things where you have
got the seniority system. Now what sort of status would you say
that the older worker has in either a Rolling Mill or a Steel Plant,
in relation to his age ? Does it make much difference ?
Electrician: Do you mean on production?
ResearchWorker: I’m thinking of production now in particular.
Crane Driver: Well, I don’t think it raises any. In fact there is one chap
a roller, who has asked to come off rolling and to go onto labour-
ing.
Research Worker: When did this happen ?
Crane Driver: A fortnight since. And I have tried to weigh that up and
I can’t because actually he has done that himself.
Research Worker: He has asked to come off?
249
Appendix C
Crane Driver: To come off.
Research Worker: But you don’t know why?
Crane Driver: Well, I would say maybe he thinks the job is too much
for him, but in status - it does not mean a thing.
Electrician: I think seniority is the best word to use, purely seniority.
But that’s a job, if you were on the production side, you hope to
get someday, but you realise that there are so many in line for it
that it would take another atom bomb to clear a few out.
You know I don’t think we look at it from the status point of
view as I say. I would say that we do on the maintenance side with
regard to people upgraded to foreman. There’s a certain status. You
hear a chap say, as a chap said in our place: ‘I’m on the other side
of the fence now’. But, as I said, he might say that, but we don’t
take it as it would mean in the old days. I mean we tend to make a
joke of it now, where at one time it probably meant something. But
it only meant something because you were ignorant of the true facts,
where today you know that even though he is a foreman, he is not
going to get any more money. The only thing he is going to have
is, if he is off sick, his wages are going to come in. But we know that
will be ironed out in a few years time when we achieve the same
thing.
Crane Driver: Another thing, comparing the old and the new. A roller
in the old mills enjoyed the status in so much as the rolling gear was
a separate unit - and he decided when to put stuff on or not to, in
his own particular time. The new mill is part of an assembly line
where he finds he is only one of a team. He has to go as fast as the
assembly line is moved, so, actually speaking, for all he is still a
roller, he is a smaller cog, and I don’t think even the emphasis is on
his turning the professional job out. The machine is actually set . . .
Down at the old mill it used to be a continuous back and forwards,
you know, until you got it exact, sort of style, but not so now. The
plate comes along the line and it goes automatically through and
nine times out of ten its correct, its level.
Research Worker: He doesn’t decide how many times it has to pass
through now ?
Crane Driver: He might have two passes, but very rare. But as I say,
his status is going so much that he can’t stop that line nowadays, as
he would do in the old days. He hasn’t the authority. He would have
the authority in so much as a plate was bad, of course. He could stop
it and roll it back. But it doesn’t amount to any great thing.
Electrician: It hasn’t the meaning it had in the old days.
Welder A: The big thing I would like to mention is that I know two
or three that’s had the opportunity to make progress in the steel
2JO
Appendix C
industry, as we have been discussing, but they preferred to remain
put and stay as they are.
Research Worker: As opposed to becoming a roller you mean, or what ?
Welder A: Yes, or even progressing further up the tree,
Research Worker: Up into the staff?
Welder A: They preferred to stay where they are. They were quite
happy in the jobs they were doing. They had a certain amount of
responsibility -they were quite happy with that amount and they
were not prepared to take any more, even for considerably higher
wages. And I know one chap in particular, that, as far as he is
concerned, he doesn’t look up to any man higher up in the tree than
he is. And I think he is as well off - I mean this has a big bearing
on it hasn’t it ? - how you are situated at home. Now he is fairly well
off, he always smokes the best cigarettes and one thing and another,
you know. He probably smokes better cigarettes than the roller does.
He’s gone on like this for years. He owns his own motor car and he
can chop it and change it whenever he feels like it, and of course,
as far as he is concerned, status doesn’t come into it with him. He’s
doing the job he chooses.
Research Worker: Does this mean in fact that he is on a line, a seniority
line, and he chooses not to go up the line? Is this right?
Welder A: That’s true, yes.
Research Worker: How often does this happen then?
Crane Driver: It happens fairly frequently.
Research Worker: Does it?
Crane Driver: Yes. I will tell you why in a lot of cases. I will take my
own for instance. We have sixteen cranes, overhead cranes, in M.
and between the bottom crane, the lowest crane, and the top crane,
there is a very narrow margin in the wage. Now somewhere in
between that line you find some chaps will say: ‘Oh dear, this job’s
easier than what the higher job is.’ And there’s maybe only z/-
difference, so he says: ‘Oh, I’ll stay put’. And the man behind him
moves up. But he is moving up to nowhere - maybe moving up to
harder work, but without recompense. Of course, these things are
in the new mill. We are discussing wages now that are not actually
fixed. They are supposed to get only a ‘temporary’ wage - but it’s
two years of course.
Electrician: But there is a movement that way, that there are not the
big gaps between any jobs now, as there used to be.
Research Worker: You mean in wages ?
Electrician: But unfortunately in wages the move is not upward. It is
downward, sometimes, even to the likes of us. We are approaching
the stage now where you might as well say we are semi-skilled. The
251
Appendix C
steel industry is not a happy industry as compared to others. I mean
when I look at our union magazine and I see people getting 7/6d
an hour on day work and I’m only getting 6/- for shift work-1
begin to think, well, things are not as good as they should be. But
status - I don’t think we even look at it as status . . .
Welder B: Would you not say that status is more a matter of mind than
it is of actual wages or something that is tangible?
Re.reurch Worker: I would have thought, you see, that in the old days,
because the roller was obviously in control of things, much more
than he is now, that people would look up to him and say that
obviously he is a fine fellow. He is doing a really good job and he is
being paid a lot of money compared to us. Now isn’t what you are
saying really that you don’t think in terms of status now, because
he’s really no different from everybody else to a large extent? Can
this be the case ?
Crane Driver: Well . . . you mentioned a roller - that’s a different thing
altogether. When I mentioned rollers before, these rollers on an
assembly line, called rollers and so forth are pretty high paid jobs.
But the top rollers at the beginning of your mill, well I’m afraid
that them chaps do still think along those lines of what you are
quoting. But I mean nobody takes any notice of it of course, but
they still come to work dressed as good as what you are now Jack.
And they don’t seem to like to mingle with the chaps.
Electrician: Well, they can’t, they are sort of . . .
Crane Driver: That’s true.
Welder A: But I still say that it is the individual. Whilst the roller
thinks he owns a high position the people don’t look up to him at
present day as what they did pre-war. That feeling’s not there with
all the undermen, so to speak.
Crane Driver: Well, I think if we were talking to a roller and talking
between ourselves, I mean there’s a big gap you see. We know with
working on the shop floor, and they must know it, that these chaps
are the chaps that force the pace, whether we like it or not. But they
may not admit that to you.
Electrician: Oh, they do.
Crane Driver: You might say: ‘Well, what’s he playing at, he’s belting
stuff through there regardless’. You are on short time, but he is still
on Er or Er 10s. a shift. Even if he only worked four shifts, he has
still got Ezo and you are on four shifts along with him - you are
down to ES. He doesn’t consider in the likes that: ‘Oh well, I’ll
ease up here.’ No doubt maybe he has no alternative, but I don’t
even think they consider that. They are the chaps that make the pace.
Welder A: That’s what I was going to come in with - they have got
212
Appendix C
no alternative. Everything is pre-planned now and they have to
work to a programme. So, whilst the chap along the line says:
‘What’s he playing at ? He’s still belting it through,’ and, you know,
‘We’ve got our shift’s work done’, sort of style, in the planning
office, which is doing all the pre-planning, they are not worried
about whether you may be shifted out or not. They want a certain
amount of work production. So whereas before the rollers had more
or less control of the mill, that’s practically taken off altogether
now.
Crane Driver: Well, he must have lost status, in so much as his job is
concerned. As David says, he is working to a set rule from the
planning office, and so forth. In the old mill again, I think the roller
was a man something like the old steel smelter was. He knew what
was best when he rolled a plate. Under the new process, a lot of that
is taken away from him . . .
Welder A: Another instance was in the olden times, if a slab came up
for re-roll and the roller looked at it and thought it was not hot
enough, he just automatically kicked it off the rolls and sent it back
and waited for the next one. And if that was not hot enough he sent
that back, and then he went and complained to the heater and made
them put more gas in the furnace. Now when that slab comes up
I’ve seen them break rolls valued at E800-L900.
Research Worker: Why’s this ?
Welder A: The slab goes through-but it’s not hot enough. But it’s
sent off - it’s supposed to be right: ‘Thy make the decisions. We
couldn’t care less.’
Chortts: Yes, that’s right.
Crane Driver: This is perfectly true. At present we have a spindle
cradle in the mill that’s broken in two or three places.
Electrician: Now you see we (i.e. electricians) are sitting in a room
where we can’t see the rolls - just the motors going round. But we
can tell by the number of alarms we get up, and by the charts, that
he’s having an awful job to get that roll. You can hear the speed of
the set going down.
WeZder A: But he cannot make the decision and say: ‘I’m sending
that down.’
Research Worker: No. Who does make the decision now?
Welder A: The planning officer - sitting over in an office.
Crane Driver: I wouldn’t say to that extent, David. I mean, at the same
time, for all we are running him down, sort of style, he is in charge
of them rolls. And if a slab comes along there and it is not correct,
I would say that it’s more than his life’s worth to attempt to roll it.
What they do is - the gears there just automatically lift it clear. It’s
233
Appendix C
just the same thing as a cobble. When the plate goes wrong, it’s just
lifted clear. It is not - you just try and roll it, sort of style. I mean
you just could not do that. It’s not just the plates that you are doing
no good - you are breaking the gear. Well, that just wouldn’t do
at all.
Welder A: I mean in the past they have broken numerous rolls and
they have also broken the main shears.
Cborzls: Aye. Yes, yes.
Research Worker: Is this because the roller is not trained sufficiently
well to go on the new job ?
Welder A: No. I think all this work has been taken away from him.
Crane Driver: Somebody is pushing him.
Research Worker: Could that be the important thing? Especially with
the new mill starting, perhaps he feels that he’s really got to get a
shift on, otherwise he will be out of that box and they will be trying
someone else. And so he wants to really try and get the tonnage up,
so that the output during the time that he is running it, is as good
as it is during the time the other blokes are running it?
Crane Driver: You hit the nail on the head there.
Electrician: You see, when you come to status, it doesn’t always mean
from the outside looking in. It’s within as well, among the rollermen.
Whatever friction you get at the lowest level, it is always far more
sensitive when you get to the top level, until you get the sort of
gloating that goes on at someone else’s mistake.
And you get that among a lot of foremen on the craftsmen side:
a sort of smug satisfaction that some other foreman ‘dropped a
clanger’, you see. Now this is not the tendency at the bottom level
to do that. You would rather shield a chap than sort of give it an
airing. But as it moves up, there seems to be more eyes watching on
it, you see, and more people are interested in the mistake.
Crane Driver: In the new mill at present it seems to me as if they have
reached, I wouldn’t say their target, but they have reached what they
can do. It took off with yo slabs on A shift and B came out with yt.
And the next shift came out, C shift it was, y 5 and it went on and on
and on and on, each one. I mean if anyone has a mind to go and look
at the records you will find that it is true. It has crept up shift by
shift, until it has reached a state now where I suppose they say:
‘Well, he’s got two different from me. It doesn’t matter, I couldn’t
do it.’
Electrician: It would just have to be like the long distance runner.
The wind would just have to be right and everything just right, just
to get that little bit, that fraction.
Crane Driver: There comes a happy feeling when A shift has a zoo
2J4
Appendix C
and B shift 199 - ‘Well, he is only one in front, so it doesn’t really
matter.’ It’s reached that.
Electrician: But it has reached a maximum, then the firm start talking
about a bonus for you-which is going to be a pittance over the
maximum amount.
Welder A: I would like to say in comparison you could think of this -
status has been taken away from the roller in the same way as it has
from the first hand smelter. He (the smelter) hasn’t got control of
that furnace now. He knows what the carbon should be, but he
hasn’t got control. He doesn’t say: ‘We tap now-the carbon’s
ready.’ And there are numerous cases happening now where there
aren’t actually losses of full furnaces of special carbon, because they
can turn it down into mild steel. It is not wasted, but there are
numerous times that there is special steel put into that furnace and
special ingredients to bring the carbon up to a certain height. They
reach that and, at the moment of tapping everything isn’t just right -
or they haven’t had word from the office in time -but for all that
the smelter could tap. He’s not allowed to - and they may have lost
several hundred pounds, and all the special ingredients - and it’s
reduced to mild steel. It’s just the same as the roller - he’s had his
status taken away from him - he doesn’t have the same status now
as he had pre-war.
Re.rearch Worker: Well, what we seem to have established pretty well
is that the smelter and the head roller seem to have lost out a bit in
terms of the number of decisions they actually take and the amount
of responsibility that they have. Now another thing that has occurred
to me here: is the chief roller, for example, still an older man, or
might he be a younger man? And the same question might apply
to the smelters as well.
Crane Driver: I don’t know about the smelters, but what has happened
down in the old and new (mills) again - two rollers came up and
they are now on burning.
Welder B: They were two rollers from the old mill moved back.
Re.rearch Worker: They didn’t start rolling at all at the new mill?
Crane Driver: No. They didn’t get that opportunity.
Welder B: No. You see at the new mill, the firm reserve the right to
make the appointments. There is no seniority.
Rexear& Worker: Yes. You think that’s right do you ?
Welder B: No. That’s normal.
Crane Driver: We actually fought against it, but it somehow or other
just petered out, like. And I think it is generally accepted now, I
think even by the two chaps concerned. They felt that they couldn’t
have coped.
255
Appendix C
Electrician: That was the point I wanted to come to, like. The older
rollers, when they do come into the new mill, I don’t say the oldest
of them, but the older of them, probably get a try at the new gear.
But not being sufficiently young in outlook, they operate in a sort
of grudging manner - probably psychological reasons come into it.
But then, at that particular time, you have the manager breathing
down your neck and it doesn’t take much to start an argument.
And the next thing is that the roller packs up. Well they (manage-
ment) are quite happy about that. You see, they haven’t made him
pack up. And you usually find that that happens.
Research Worker: Is this the case here ?
Crane Driver: It’s happened. Now it’s happened on the automatic
shears. They did give two chaps that I know a test on them and,
believe me, they went through hell, like, trying to keep up with the
new ideas, you see. Well, since then, these two have actually reached
the age of retirement. But instead of, in the old mill there was a set
line of seniority, that was altered. And now there is actually young
chaps on these jobs. Probably a seniority line will be established
now with the young chaps at the head. That’s giving the younger
ones that much time, so that they can adjust themselves to it. But
the older ones just couldn’t keep up with them.
Research Worker: It was too fast for them?
Crane Driver: It was too fast, yes.
Research Worker: What about when the oxygen lances were introduced
into the smelting shop. Now this must have posed a number of
problems to the actual . . . Well, I suppose you would know about
that (Welder A) because you were on the welding side?
Welder A: There’s no pre-training.
Research Worker.- There’s no pre-training at all?
Welder A: Trial by error.
Research Worker: As far as the smelters are concerned this is ?
Welder A: Yes.
Research Worker: What did the senior smelters think about this. Were
they reluctant to receive these oxygen lances ?
Welder A: They were very reluctant to try anything that’s new.
Actually, put yourself in their place. You are asked to operate them
and you don’t actually know what’s happening. And you are in the
dark, and you are pressing buttons and one thing and another, and
you don’t know . . .
Electrician: And at the back of your mind you don’t want to make a
mistake, if you can help it. And it makes you very wary you see.
You hold the can if anything should go wrong. You’ve made the
mistake. But you couldn’t say: ‘Well, I haven’t been trained on it.’
256
Appendix C
Research Worker: So it was actually the first hands who were respon-
sible for this ?
Welder B: There is always the point as well that introducing new
methods of speeding up production and getting more tonnage out
is inclined to bring down the wage.
Electrician: All this is in the back of your mind while you are being . . .
Welder B: I think that the majority of good trade unionists are inclined
to hang back a little bit, you know, always have a little bit at the
back of the boot.
Re+rearch Worker: But with smelters, they would be on the smelters’
scale. So if more tonnage came out this would cause no trouble?
Electrician: But at the back of their minds they are thinking . . .
Welder A: How long does this go on? You see, if they found they
were getting 25 thousand tons out instead of the previous 16
thousand tons, well, the manager, or someone like, will not allow
that. This has happened before, when an old mill closed down and a
new one opened . . . The Company officials weren’t happy with the
amount of tonnage bonus. You see, we reached a stage where we
received a k2 a week bonus, as against the previous I r/- or 17/-.
So they said: ‘We (management) cannot have this.’ So they brought
all the unions in and we had a revision of bonus and they brought
us back down to 21/- with a maximum of 25 I-, which hung around
25/- for a long, long time, until, eventually, it went up to some-
where in the region of 3 2/- to 3 3 I-.
Research Worker: This was a local agreement was it?
Welder A: Yes. You get this type of thing reoccurring though, when
they are introducing anything as far as boosting production. This
is always at the back of the mind of the operator. ‘How much am
I going to lose?’ at the outset.
El’ectrician: And it’s not wrong to think that way as far as he is
concerned.
Wel’der A: Maybe not. But getting back to the point we were dis-
cussing about the training, they definitely haven’t had half an hour’s
training . . .
Welder B: Would this not be a question - whether it is possible to
train anybody in a thing like that? I mean, it was purely experi-
mental.
Welder A: Well, they have been used in other firms. We weren’t the
first.
Research Worker: I am interested to find out what role the senior men
and people like the head roller and the first hand smelter actually
play in the branch. Do they play an important role in the branch?
If you have meetings, for instance, what sort of role do these blokes
2j7
Appendix C
play? I mean, as likely as not, they would not be actually holding
a union position, but because they are very experienced and because
they are senior men, does this give them any edge in the argument ?
Crane Driver: It has done, Graham, it has in the past. I’ve noticed the
top roller who used to be down there was Brown and he was
secretary of that particular union branch. But in the course of events
he has just dropped out and now you find, at least I have found,
that they don’t bother going to meetings at all. We used to look up
to them and I think that the secretary or the chairman was always
the roller or somebody pretty well up towards that. But not so now.
They don’t seem to bother.
El’ectrician: Yes. Here is where status comes in again. A change has
definitely taken place.
Crane Driver: I don’t think they are really interested now. I think one
time they did look along the lines and say: ‘Yes, I am the roller.
I am the secretary too.’ By being the roIIer his name was on the
sheet. You automatically said: ‘He’s the roller. He is the man.’ But
they had more responsibility towards the men than they have now.
Electrician: Well, it’s gone. It’s gone by the way.
APPENDIX D
Nine out of ten grievances aren’t as good as a man thinks and you’ll
maybe talk him out of it. If you listen to them you’ve got no idea
what some of the fellows come with. Some fellows are fantastic.
One man a fortnight ago was two thou’ down on a cut, so it was
scrapped. He wanted me to go round and argue that it wasn’t his
fault. It was the drawing or the machine or anything. I checked it,
found that everything was O.K. and refused to go.
The official will come down to the works any time if there is a
problem that can’t be resolved. A week yesterday he came down and
informed the crane men and slingers of a new agreement reached
with management on wages. This was the first time since 1947 that
a local official has been called in and I feel that this is a pretty good
record. The shop stewards try to avoid bringing in the local officials
as far as possible. In this particular case we felt that in some respects
we had failed but at least we did get an offer from the firm which we
had of course rejected in this case.
S 263
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268
Index of Names
269
IIzdex of Names
Jenkins, W., 212 Parsons, T., y, 66
Paterson, T. T., 78, 84. 85. 126
Pope, L., 5~~63
Kahn, H. R., 207, zoy, 210 Price, J., 97
Kane, J., 157, 158, 159, 160, 162 Pugh, A., 159, 161, 162,164
Kaplan, A., 6
Kerr,C., 2,~. IT, 36,37,38,39,40,
42. 44, 4.5, 51, 141, 155 Ratcliffe, J., 247
Knight, R., 157
Rex, J., 72, 73
Knowles, K., 15, 41, 42, 68, 71, 80, Richardson, J. W., 95
84,156, '~37 Richardson, K., 124
Kornhauser, A., 15 5 Roberts, B. C., I, 73, 79, 86, 259
Kugelburg, B., 75 Roberts, G., 4, 7, 91, 126, 211
Kuhn, J. W., 7.3, 42, 43, 44, 45, 47, Robinson, T. R., 247
48 Roethlisberger, F. J., 93, 187
Ross, A. M., 12, 14, 23, 24, 25, 26
Lahne, H. J., 134 28, 30, 32. 34, 3.5. 39,4o, 73, 135
Landsberger, H. A., 72 Rubel, M., 229
Lenski, G., y
Lerner, S. W., 76
Liepmann, K., IOO Sayles, L., 46, 48, 50, 93, 231, 232
Little, J. C., 238 Schelling, T. C., 189
Livernash, R., 31 Scorer, R., 248
Lling, K. A., 171 Seear, N., 86, 87
Lockwood, D., 4. 143, 144, 145 Shanks, M., 79
Low,J. O., 58, sy,61, 63, 232 Sharp, I. G., 158, 177
Siegel, A., 14, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40
42,449 41, ‘55. 2='J
MacDonald, D. R., 238, 248 Sigsworth, S., 248
Macdonald, L., 248
Simmel, G., 94, 97, 132
Mannheim, K., 77 Simpson, W., 238, 248
Marshall, T. H., 134 Smelser, N., 3 7, 3 8
Marx,K., y, IO, 229, 230, 235 Stalker, G., II, 183
Mayo, E., 72 Stein, A., 62
McBride, T. B., 238 Stephenson, J. W., 238
McCarthy, W. E. J., 118
McCormick, B. J., I I 5
Merton, R. K., 93, 94, 91, 96, 152
Miller, D., 126 Tawney, R. H., 161
Thompson, A. F., 97
Mills, W., y, 231, 233, 234, 235
Thompson, E. P., 162
Mundella, A. J., 158, 159
Tocher, V. W., 239
Myrdal, G., 6, I 5 7. I I 8
Trow, E., 159
Turner, H. A., 32, 34, 43, 49, 94
Noble, A., 157 126,x38,147
270
Itzdex of Names
Wallis, R., 248 Willett, F. J., 126
Warner, W. L., j8, 59. 61, 63, 232 Wilson, H., 22, 32, 33, 80
Wearmouth, R. F., 161 Wilson, J., 161
Weber, M., 6, 8, IO, 225, 229, 231 Wiper, J., 238
Webb, B. & S. 74, gz, 95, 97, 98, Woodcock, G., 8g
IOO, Ijg,160
Wedderburn, D., 207
Wigham, G., I Zweig, F., g2
271
Subject Index
Efficiency, 21, 51, 53. 64, 74. 75,98, Go-slow, yo, 148, 149, 150, 152
117,120,122,187,208
Employers’ Associations 1, 76 Human Relations School, 57
B.E.C., 146
Engineering, I 26-54
Iron & Steel Trades, 164,167, 168, Ideology, 19. 20, 22, 52, ~4, 57, 62
184,218 63:.77
North East Coast Ship Repairers Industrial discipline, 22, gg, 106, 170
274
Subject Index
North East of England, 3, 7, 8, gr, causes of, x, 15, 19, 40
100-17,1~~-20~,2~g-6j definition of, 65
Norms, ~2, s>, 36, 66, 67, 93, 95, ‘downers’, 262
107, ZII,ZZJ, 226 explanation of, 12-67, 5 7-5 8
normative consensus, 5 guerilla, 146
normative order, 54, 56 meaning of, 30, 3 3, 3 I
normative pre-requisites, 73 operative variable, 78
normative standards, I 16 patterns, 7, 12, 13, 26, 28, 29, 34
normative system, g, g8 45, ‘95-203
problems of classification of, 3, I 3
Overtime ban, 147, 148, 150
proneness, 3 T-45
Power, 56, 72, 91, 204, 234 recording of, I 3, 14, I 7
alien, 39 ‘rolling’, 138, 147
as scarce resource, 8 seamen’s, 22, 32, 34, 86
balance of, g, IO, 54, 98, 104, 203 Shipbuilding & Engineering, I 917
countervailing, 2, 163 ‘39
context, 19, 20, 3.5, 39, 14 ‘snowball’, I 3 8, I 5 z
distribution of, 19, 20 sympathy, 148, 149, 196, 199
employer, I I8 tally clerks’, 86
latent, 120, 189 token, 141
managerial, 53, 56, yg, 60, 65 unofficial, I, 3, 68-90, 202, 219
shop stewards, 263 U.S.A. Steel Igj7, 31
social, I 52 wildcat, 43, 48, 62-7, 71, 78-g,
structure, 28 84. 232
union,66, 86, I@,, 163 ‘withering away’ thesis, 3~-, 39-41
workshop, 43 Swedish Employers’ Confederation,
Professions, 23 3 75
27f
Subject Index