Division of Labor

WHEN UNITED Auto Worker president Douglas A. Fraser came to Harvard to deliver a speech in April 1980, he took five minutes beforehand to huddle with the organizing committee of District 65, which had just become affiliated with UAW. Wearing a brown pinstriped suit, Fraser told the organizers, "It's been my experience that if you lose the first time, you can get them the second." He was then whisked away to address about 150 people at the School of Public Health--with which he was involved as a visiting committee member.

In 1977, District 65 had lost its first bid to unionize the 900 or so clerical and technical workers in the Medical Area. After a protracted legal struggle with University attorneys over the "appropriateness" of the Med Area as a bargaining unit, the union finally gained the right to hold an election. Harvard lawyers argued that all University secretaries and technicians had the same community of interest; the union contended that because of the Med Area's location downtown, its clerical and technical personnel had distinct interests. Following three years of procedural twists and turns, the federal National Labor Relations Board ruled in District 65's favor, declaring that the Med Area did in fact compose an appropriate bargaining unit.

But the union lost the subsequent vote, 436-346, and charged that Harvard had engaged in coercive tactics to frighten workers away from District 65's side. The allegations were never substantiated, though the University's anti-union forces--led by Daniel Steiner '54, general counsel to the University--readily admitted they had waged a vigorous campaign. Why was Harvard so opposed to the union getting a foothold in the Med Area? Publicly, officials like Steiner, associate general counsel for labor relations Edward W. Powers and head of personnel Daniel Canter all cited the negative effects of "fragmented" bargaining units. In other words, a union for secretaries in only one sector of the University would lead to an uneven benefit and salary structure. Furthermore, the argument continued, employee mobility would be crimped. Thus only a University-wide union would be appropriate.

Privately, however, University administrators acknowledge that they feared an increasing likelihood of strikes if the union became established. Strikes always prove costly to Harvard, and in times of economic austerity the menace is even more acute. Imagine, if you will, a scenario in which the entire Med area is deprived of its secretaries--the effect would be paralyzing. And in their most ingenuous moments, Harvard officials concede their distaste for District 65.

THE LATEST renewal of the dispute between Harvard and the union started in the spring of 1980, shortly after Fraser visited the 12 determined organizers on District 65's Med Area committee. The union began laying the groundwork for a second representation effort by quietly enlisting support and loudly associating itself with causes celebres. By that fall, they were fully immersed in the organizing drive, signing clerical and technical workers to cards (Under labor law, a union needs 30 per cent of the proposed unit to sign cards.) The union filed for the right to hold and election last December, and District 65 organizers voiced confidence. "We'll win this time," said Kris Rondeau, who spearheaded the card-signing drive.

Rather than spend large sums of money for legal expenses by challenging the NLRB's 1977 ruling in court, Steiner and his team decided to pour funds into another anti-union campaign. Both the union and the University thought the experience of the 1977 vote would help them, and the two sides assented to an April election date.

During the campaign, both the union and the University worked around the clock; both sides were completely open--often scathing--in their criticisms of each other. When the workers went to the polls, Harvard prevailed again, 390-328--a significantly lighter turnout than in 1977. "The low turnout hurt us," Rondeau said the night of the defeat. "I think many people expected us to win so easily that they didn't bother to vote."

WITHIN TWO DAYS, District 65 had apparently established a different cause for its downfall--illegal conduct by Harvard supervisors during the campaign. Its lawyers filed six sets of objections with the NLRB, requesting a new election on the grounds that the behavior of University representatives unfairly influenced the vote's outcome. The union then withdrew five sets of its objections, leaving regional NLRB hearing officer Maria C. Walsh to decide whether certain statements made by supervisory personnel to eligible voters had enough impact to warrant another election.

In mid-August, Walsh handed down her ruling, which recommended that the results of the vote be overturned and a new election ordered. The move took both sides by surprise, and District 65 was buoyed sufficiently to announce intentions to organize clerical and technical workers throughout the University's main campus, about 3000 in all. Expecting NLRB regional director Robert M. Fuchs to uphold Wlash's decision and to call for a new election, the union stepped up its organization drive in the Med Area.

Last week, however, Fuchs threw a wrench into district 65's master plan, overruling Walsh and certifying the results of last spring's vote. The union will ask the NLRB's Washington office to review the case, Rondeau said this week. In addition, District 65 will start the entire process in motion again, filing a petition with the NLRB in February for an April election (the earliest date possible according to labor law). Thus the union will continue its organizing efforts this winter in the hope that the third election will finally grant a victory.

THE ISSUES surrounding unionization remain somewhat fuzzy. Just prior to the campaign last spring, Harvard officials gave all University clerical and technical workers the largest raise ever--between 9.5 and 15.5 per cent, depending on the employee's classification. While District 65 immediately pointed to the pay hikes as an attempt to subvert its drive, University administrators pleaded innocence, saying the wage increase was an equitable response to growing inflation.

When the union first began organizing in 1974, the average salary for a Harvard secretary stood at slightly more than $400 a week. Now the focus has shifted, with District 65 emphasizing fringe benefits and the democratic advantages of unionization. District 65's own periodical pamphlet, The Working Solution, lists tuition assistance and sick pay before wages in its September 30 issue. The passage entitled "Money" states, "We all expect a raise every July," adding that the only times Harvard has granted wage increases besides July 1 came when the threat of the union was heating up, in 1974 and 1979. Among the other benefits the union proposes to fight for are pension and health plan improvements and safety.

Further, the union has tried to tie its cause to the women's movement, because of the predominance of women in the clerical profession. As an earlier issue of The Working Solution says, at the end of an article on the history of women in the labor movement, "We at the Harvard Medical Area, along with clerical and other workers across the country, are pioneers for benefits we regard as equally necessary for a dignified life in contemporary America: job equity, wages that keep up with inflation, affirmative action, employer-paid health insurance, and a decent retirement plan."

Then, the same pamphlet dispenses a barrage of statistics: It quotes the Bureau of Labor as saying that unionization for clerical workers translates to an average of $47 more per week in pay; it notes that Boston's clerical workers are the fifth-lowest paid of the 15 largest U.S. cities; and it puts forward the alarming fact that 90 per cent of all working women receive no pension whatsoever. Those who do have a pension receive an average of $70 a month less than their male counterparts.

WHY, THEN, have the Med Area's clerical and technical workers so far resisted the alternative of unionization? District 65 sees its failure in simple terms. The University, it claims, has used subtle but coercive tactics to dissuade workers from voting for the union. Harvard has played on the insecurities of low-paying jobs, painted itself as a model of stable and faithful management, and appealed to the workers as a strong yet sensitive institution, the union argues. And it has given workers the occasional, timely raise to soothe doubts about its sincerity. District 65's response can be neatly summed up by quoting its slogan: "We can't eat prestige."

But in these times of economic uncertainty and a watered-down and disunited labor movement, the University's anti-union campaigners forward a different analysis. Perhaps, they suggest, the voters have perceived correctly that unions have not been scoring large gains for their members of late; perhaps they sense that District 65 would not prove a worthy ally in the struggle for better wages and fringe benefits. Either Harvard has been a satisfactory employer or district 65 would not provide substantially stronger advocacy, they conclude. Staunch solidarity among workers can sometimes prove painful, as followers of the recent air traffic controllers' debacle can attest. A union's ability to mobilize support through unity not-withstanding, it may be said that the Med Area's clerical and technical workers fear strikes and the uncertainty they create as much as their present employer does. Or, it may be that they think District 65 is merely seeking 850 dues-paying members for the money.

THE UNION and the University can continue playing this cat-and-mouse game indefinitely--or, as would seem more likely, until District 65 wins a representation election. Even then, if Harvard feels strongly enough, the University's lawyers can simply refuse to recognize the union, forcing District 65 to take Harvard to court. There, Harvard effective attorneys can challenge the NLRB's 1977 ruling that the Med Area composes an "appropriate" bargaining unit. It could take months, years, for a verdict to be reached. And in the meantime, the 30-percent annual turnover rate among clerical and technical employees in the Med Area would give the unit an entirely different face. Part of District 65's current dilemma stems from the fact that many eligible voters are transient workers, young and on the move. The older workers who stay tend to be more conservative, less open to the dramatic change the union's presence would stir.

If, on the other hand, District 65 loses another election in April, its Med Area initiative will be severely--perhaps irreparably--damaged. Yet another rejection would constitute a clear message; a mandate, as it were, to cease organizing.

Still, as last spring's returns indicate, a significant number of Med Area secretaries and technicians are restless enough to support the uncertainty of a unionized workplace instead of the status quo. The labyrinthine road to unionization is one of the biggest obstacles District 65 faces, particularly when the resources of Harvard's formidable legal team are marshalled against the organization effort.

AFTER LAYERS of complex argument are peeled away, the image of District 65's organizing committee conferring with a pinstriped Douglas Fraser remains. For a union that has staked so much on a slogan like "We can't eat prestige." District 65 was strongly buoyed by the appearance of a national labor official. But Fraser found only a few minutes to spare. After all, he was in a rush to make his speech, and he wanted some time to rest before his visiting committee meeting that evening. Like Fraser, the clerical and technical workers in the Med Area are tugged two ways; the majority, like Fraser has thus far demonstrated its preference.