5 | Accidental Revitalization and the Role of Leadership

The role of leadership in unions is often a paradoxical one. Unions, at their core, are anchored in collectivity, democracy, and workers’ rights. At least in theory, unions are the epitome of the democratic organization, born of worker mobilization and powered by solidarity. In practice, however, they are much more complicated, largely because, in the modern era, labour relations lend themselves to expertise and specialization. The result is that, in terms of concrete operations, unions often come to rely heavily on strong leaders and small cadres of professionals. It is thus at the intersection of the ideal and the real that the true nature of a union local can be found.

The basic organizational structures of Local 401 have not changed over time, nor has its tendency toward centralized authority. However, as we saw in part 1, over the past twenty years, Local 401 has evolved in both its internal affairs and its external actions. The membership has become more diverse, in part because of changes both within the industry and in the economy overall and in part as a result of the union’s successes in organizing new groups of workers, many of which have occurred in workplaces that other unions shied away from. The local has adopted new organizing strategies, it has developed methods for representing a wide range of workers, and it has become more politically active. And while it remains highly centralized, it has a membership unified around an informal, highly personalized style of leadership that emphasizes accessibility and accountability.

The previous chapter revealed an internal logic operating within Local 401 that brings a sense of coherence to what might otherwise appear to be contradictions. This logic, which emerges from the narratives that the local has constructed, makes possible the combination of factors we have witnessed. This chapter takes the discussion of Local 401’s transformation a step further by examining the changes in the local within the context of the broader phenomenon of union renewal. According to the standard wisdom, Local 401 should be an unlikely site for substantive union renewal because of its stable, centralized leadership and its lack of planning around reform. Yet, as the events outlined in part 1 demonstrate, Local 401 has indeed undergone a process of renewal over the past twenty years. How can this revitalization be explained in the light of current research into union renewal? The unexpected transformation of Local 401 offers a rich opportunity to examine the complex realities of union renewal.

THEORIZING UNION RENEWAL

Over the past three decades, the ground has shifted for the North American labour movement. The rise of globalization and neoliberal governments has weakened labour’s position in the economy. Employers, spurred on by these macro-forces, have ramped up their antiunion efforts. Simultaneously, the labour market has changed, with the rapid expansion of service industries and the growth of a diverse workforce. Unions have been struggling to respond to these challenges. In the face of these changes, numerous researchers have turned their attention to the question of how unions can successfully revitalize themselves and return to a position of strength. In particular, union renewal research has sought to diagnose how traditional union practices and structures have contributed to the present crisis and to identify specific strategies to revitalize and strengthen unions (see, for example, Fairbrother and Yates 2003; Kumar and Schenck 2006a).

Research by Kim Voss and Rachel Sherman (2000, 2003) suggests that, although union renewal sometimes occurs from the bottom up, it is typically a top-down process, initiated by senior staff and leadership at the national or international level. As Voss points out,

The research on union renewal in the US . . . questions the rosy picture of bottom-up, worker-driven democratic change so prevalent in the academic work on union democracy. Member engagement and rank-and-file involvement are clearly important in their own right, but, to date, paid union staff, strong leadership and central coordination have played a more consistent key role in union renewal. (Voss 2010, 377)

Voss argues that revitalization is most commonly sparked by the infusion of new ideas from levels above that of the individual local, occurring when senior leadership plots a change of course and mandates the necessary priorities and strategies to locals.

That is not to say that vibrant, democratic unions with active memberships are not important to developing stronger unions. Research has shown that internal democratic processes are important variables in union revitalization (Lévesque, Murray, and Le Queux 2005) and that rank-and-file activists are essential actors in the process (Murray et al. 2013). However, activist-initiated renewal usually occurs when a union’s members overturn the existing leadership so as to make room for leaders who will chart a new course for the local.

While member-driven upheaval is undeniably an inspiring source of union renewal—a recent example being the Chicago Teachers Union (Uetricht 2014)—the reality is that revitalization is more likely to occur through initiatives imposed on locals by national or international leadership. An instructive example in this regard is Justice for Janitors, a movement whose campaigns are organized by the Service Employees International Union (SEIU). For at least two decades now, the organizing model adopted by the SEIU has been lauded for its capacity to reach out to racialized and gendered workers in low-wage positions and for fundamentally reconfiguring the way in which union-based social justice campaigns are run (see Cranford 2004; Milkman 2006; Savage 2006). Indeed, the SEIU’s history of incorporating the broader community into its campaigns and creating activist avenues for workers is both well established and well reported. Less often discussed is the fact that most of SEIU’s successes were achieved through highly centralized leadership, a reliance on paid staff, and heavy-handed internal manoeuvres such as local mergers and trusteeships, which had a negative impact on internal democracy, activist empowerment, and member engagement (Moody 2007, 184–97). In addition, the strategies that the Justice for Janitors model uses to empower certain groups, such as recent immigrants, often unintentionally harm other groups, such as migrant workers (Foster and Barnetson 2012).

Another key finding of union renewal research is that renewal is usually a conscious and planned process—that the actors are aware of their goal and make decisions to achieve that goal. Commonly held definitions of union renewal, such as that of Daniel Cornfield and Holly McCammon (2003, 16), have embedded within them a notion of intentionality: “Labour revitalization itself consists of initiatives conceived, developed and taken by labour organizations to redefine their relations with workers, employers and the state.” Union leaders and/or rank-and-file members are perceived as making calculated decisions based upon an explicit analysis of changing external conditions. Case studies of renewal (such as Milkman 2006; Stinson and Ballantyne 2006; Robertson and Murninghan 2006) highlight policy papers, internal debates, and structural and budgetary reforms aimed at achieving the explicit goals of renewal.

Union renewal research has thus tended to focus on empirical studies, with the emphasis falling on renewal as the product of conscious responses to external challenges. More recently, however, researchers have come to recognize that an examination of structures and policies is insufficient for an understanding of the dynamics at play if and when a union engages in renewal. As a result, attention has shifted to the internal dynamics that operate within unions, sometimes almost invisibly, and that, in combination with external forces, may either propel or frustrate change. As Christian Dufour and his colleagues (2010, 293) point out, at the same time that unions “reflect and refract” external forces, “they are also strategic agents, acting upon themselves and their broader operating environment.” This more recent research seeks to unravel the complex interplay of factors that determine whether a union will successfully revitalize its practices—variables such as power resources and strategic capabilities (Lévesque and Murray 2010), internalized collective identities (Murray et al. 2010), narrative resources (Lévesque and Murray 2013), and the framing of the crisis or problem (Yates 2010).

In particular, a number of researchers have begun looking at the role of internally constructed systems of meaning in determining union action. They identify these discursive constructions in different ways—as frames (Yates 1998, 2010), narrative resources (Lévesque and Murray 2013), or even fortifying myths (Voss 1996)—but all refer to essentially the same phenomenon: the construction of frames of meaning. These discursive constructions, as Christian Lévesque and Gregor Murray (2013, 3) explain, “consist of the range of values, shared understanding, stories and ideologies that aggregate identities and concerns. They frame understanding and union actions, and inform a sense of efficacy.” Unions draw upon these frames of meaning—which, while relatively stable, are not static—to make sense of ongoing events and to structure their responses.

REFERENTIAL UNIONISMS

Of particular value to our understanding of union renewal is the concept of referential unionisms developed by Murray and his colleagues (2010). In their definition, “referential unionisms” refers to “the production and internalization of sets of practices and norms that inform union behaviour” (313). Over time, they explain, “trade unionists develop principles and practices that translate both their comprehension of how unions function and the social structures in which that unionism is embedded. These principles and practices, however implicit, make up a system of social representation according to which new situations are evaluated and actions envisaged and undertaken” (313). Simply put, then, referential unionisms are internalized constructs on which a union bases its sense of self-identity and that serve as points of reference for interpreting the present and planning a way forward.

Referential unionisms emerge from the interplay among five fundamental features, or dimensions, of unions: collective identities, repertoires of action, resources, representative capacity, and strategic capacity (see Murray et al. 2010, 314–17). Collective identities are the self-identities associated with specific groups within a union; these identities interact with one another, sometimes generating tensions and sometimes favouring integration. Repertoires of action are the modes and patterns of action on which a union typically relies in pursuing its objectives, while resources are the internal capacities, external connections, and discursive mechanisms that a union can mobilize as sources of power. Representative capacity refers to the relative degree of engagement between a union’s leadership and the various groups within the union, whose interests may differ. Finally, strategic capacity consists in the ability of a union’s leaders to interpret, articulate, and act upon current situations. A union’s referential unionisms reflect certain combinations of, or relationships among, these five variables, and the manner in which they combine in turn influences the union’s ability to respond to change.

The model proposed by Murray et al. (2010) integrates the various components of union behaviour into a conceptual framework that can help us to understand the mechanisms that operate in union renewal and thus to explain how and why unions change (or do not). By emphasizing the dynamic interaction of the five dimensions of union behaviour, the concept of referential unionisms succeeds in capturing the internal complexity of unions. At the same time, as constructs, referential unionisms “link both internal and external factors in multiple and dynamic ways” (313). In focusing on internal processes, the model does not deny the importance of external factors; rather, it aims to reveal “how these external factors are filtered by interventions on the part of various actors,” whose actions may be influenced by internal frames of reference “of which the actors themselves are not always aware” (313). In other words, the concept of referential unionisms allows us to arrive at an integrated understanding of how the internal dynamics operating within a union interact with external forces.

In short, by moving beyond the conscious and overt to include less immediately observable influences on union behaviour, the concept of referential unionisms offers a new way to interpret empirical findings around union renewal. In particular, it emphasizes that outcomes are never determined solely by organizational structures or by decisions and actions founded on rational assessments but emerge as well from a range of tendencies, capacities, and contexts that come together in multiple and sometimes unpredictable ways.

Local 401’s narratives, as identified in the previous chapter, feed directly into the work around referential unionisms. In the case of Local 401, how did the union’s referential unionisms—created, in part, through its narrative resources—interact with the local’s leadership to create opportunities for renewal?

THE INFLUENCE OF LEADERSHIP ON CHANGE IN LOCAL 401

The history outlined in part 1 shows the degree of change that Local 401 has undergone in the past twenty years. Organizing strategies, political engagement, and member involvement all shifted significantly. Meanwhile, the strong, forceful leadership remained steadfast and stable. What role did this unusually stable leadership play in the local’s revitalization?

Three specific characteristics of Local 401’s leadership fostered and shaped renewal within the local. First, President O’Halloran’s combative approach to leadership and his strained and at times rebellious relationship with UFCW Canada carved a space for local action that was unusual for UFCW. Second, the void left by the lack of long-term vision was filled by a pragmatic, in-the-moment form of decision making. Third, the interactions of the leadership’s characteristics with the local’s narrative-created internal logic (in part shaped by the leadership) built a clear pathway toward renewal.

An Unexpected Rebel

Doug O’Halloran’s involvement in UFCW Canada is filled with contradiction. Deeply embedded in the union’s culture in the 1980s, he ascended to the presidency of Local 401 through appointment. However, once there, he took some significant steps to distinguish his leadership from that of both his predecessors and other UFCW locals in Canada.

In the 1980s, the structures of both UFCW Canada and Local 401 fed into strong presidents and weak processes for accountability, which in turn led to concentrated power and tight hierarchical control. UFCW was not known for its political involvement or its social conscience, and it had a reputation for arranging backroom deals and avoiding confrontation with the employer (Moody 1988, 179–82). A former national staff member confirmed this:

Our union lived on voluntary recognitions. The grocery store grew, we grew. Voluntarily recognized, wasn’t a lot of fights, not a lot of battles. [We] didn’t need to have a fight, a battle. You just got ’em. There they were. So as a president your job was to hire—we used to call them baggage carriers, who typed your letters, and you just floated on the membership rising. You didn’t have to fight, no organizing, you didn’t have to be smart, didn’t have to think. (KO, 38)

In the 1990s and 2000s, UFCW struggled to respond to changes in its core industries, and across the continent, it embarked on “a strategy of ‘controlled retreat’ . . . [which] meant a willingness to accept concessions . . . as long as this did not threaten the international union’s dues base” (Rachleff 1993, 81). Membership engagement was low and militancy was actively discouraged (Moody 1988, 199–206).

As a UFCW Canada staffer, O’Halloran was accustomed to operating with this context. When he was appointed president of Local 401, the leadership of UFCW Canada probably did not expect him to change the direction of the local, given how deeply entrenched he was in the culture. However, he made a distinct mark on the local:

The local 401 as we know it is Doug O’Halloran. Before him, this local ran just like so many other local unions did, very conservatively, very watch the money, watch the spending. . . . Most presidents don’t know who half their members are, they rarely go on a picket line. Doug leads the charge. That is Doug’s style, always been Doug’s style. (KO, 38)

As Local 401’s president, O’Halloran soon began charting an unusual course. As we have seen, his early actions included moving away from voluntary recognitions and rejecting sweetheart deals that he felt undermined the members’ bargaining position. O’Halloran took a highly independent stance, making decisions that he felt were best for the local regardless of consequences elsewhere. As a result, he developed a reputation for sparring with the national office. “National office has given Doug lots of leeway, first of all because they have to. Doug has his reputation. . . . He does what he needs to advance the interests of his local union. My guess is when Doug decides to retire, that national office will probably have more of a presence here and it will be toned down a bit” (staff, 27). O’Halloran acknowledges the dynamic: “The national office, some of the situations we get ourselves into, down there they just think we are fucking crazy. Well O’Halloran did it this time!” This dynamic with the national office is still evident, as exemplified by the pressure placed on O’Halloran to settle in the lead-up to the 2013 Superstore Strike.

It is unclear why UFCW Canada has allowed O’Halloran a greater degree of latitude than that afforded to the leaders of other locals—an autonomy that, as evidenced by the continuing tension between the two parties, is still contested ground. We must also be mindful that considerations other than O’Halloran’s determination may come into play. For example, some study participants suggested that UFCW Canada’s reluctant willingness to allow Local 401 to take Superstore on strike when other locals accepted rollbacks may have been affected by the recognition that Alberta, with its booming economy at the time, was a different economic context, making rollbacks a more difficult sell to members.

Regardless of the reason, during his tenure as president, O’Halloran has found a way to chart a semi-independent course for Local 401. This degree of freedom has proven to be an important starting point for the local’s path toward revitalization. Had UFCW Canada more strongly asserted its authority over the local or had O’Halloran proven less effective at staking out his territory, many of the initiatives and innovations undertaken by the local may have faltered or never occurred. This point is bolstered by the fact that many of the initiatives remain unique or rare across UFCW Canada. Local 401’s strike pay is unmatched by any other local. Its diverse organizing targets and ability to mobilize traditionally hard-to-organize workers, while not unique, remains the exception to the rule within private sector unionization and within UFCW in particular. Local 401 has the most robust and active strike record of any UFCW local in Canada.

Of course, creating space for local-level leadership does not necessarily lead to the use of that space to renew and revitalize. O’Halloran’s degree of independence from the national union does not fully explain how and why the local transformed so dramatically. However, O’Halloran’s rebel act was a necessary precursor to changing the direction of the local’s activities.

Pragmatic Change in Local 401

The second leadership characteristic that led to renewal has to do with how the local navigated innovation and change. The current study revealed no evidence that Local 401’s leadership actively and consciously set out to revitalize the local. To the contrary, the evidence suggests the union was engaging with decisions in the heat of battle, working out solutions to problems as they arose and trying to learn from past failures. There was no grand plan, no larger vision. The local’s leaders were just doing what they needed to do to serve their members and win their battles.

As an illustration, the decision to raise strike pay significantly, to a level almost equal to that of many members’ regular wage, was critical to strengthening the resolve of strikers and thus increasing the likelihood of winning a strike. This decision arose out of the aftermath of the failed 1997 Safeway strike. O’Halloran saw inadequate strike pay as a barrier to maintaining a strong picket line, so he corrected it. The key to getting picket line support, he said, “is being able to pay reasonable strike pay. And thank god the membership at 401 has recognized that. We try to pay the people 80 percent of their income in strike pay. No other union does that.” But the strike pay bump does not appear to have been made with any long view calculation. Rather, it appears that O’Halloran made the decision in response to a failed strike. It was an attempt to correct a mistake and prevent it from happening again.

Similar motivation can be seen with other initiatives. The relief rep system was implemented to address staff burnout. Increasing the responsibilities of stewards was a response to breakdowns in servicing. Establishing new committees (such as the Community Action Network Committee) was an effort to shore up weaknesses in the local’s outreach to diverse groups.

Another example is Local 401’s use of increasingly provocative and dramatic communications during strikes. During the two-decade period of study, communications became more pointed, assertive, and controversial. This change flowed from a growing recognition that bolder messaging was more effective at getting public and employer attention. As Hesse explained:

Ultimately the union should be the voice of reason and compassion, but to the extent that we do that, we get marginalized. We don’t get noticed by the media, and so you have got to be loud to get attention in a loud, provocative world. . . . Outrageous times will increasingly call for outrageous measures. There is a reactive component to what we do. We certainly try to be proactive, but there is a reactive component. . . . If people who are not involved in your cause or your purpose directly [are going] to be interested in or get your message, you need to be provocative.

Hesse’s repetition of the word reactive suggests an emphasis on a case-by-case response to the situation. There is evidence of ongoing learning from each strike experience, but participants articulated that the learning was more about fixing what didn’t work the previous time and tweaking what did work than about developing a new communications strategy for the local.

The shift in organizing strategies and tactics tells a similar story. The local did not set out to be an organizing union that adopts innovative approaches. A more accurate reflection may be that it fell into that identity. The initial impetus for additional efforts in organizing actually came from UFCW Canada. At the 2003 national convention, a decision “put percentage mandates on locals. . . . Whatever revenue you have, you have to spend a percentage on organizing” (staff, 2). This national resolution started the wheels of organizing within Local 401, but it was internal decisions that shaped the nature and targets of that organizing. While many nonunionized grocery stores and related food service companies were available to the local as potential new certifications, its leadership opted to organize new types of industries rather than focus on deepening the local’s density in grocery. As of the time of writing, the union has not engaged in a major grocery-related organizing drive in almost twenty years.

However, the outcome of organizing casinos, meat-packing plants, car rental companies, and so forth did not emerge out of a coherent set of strategic decisions. Neither leaders nor members could articulate a vision for Local 401’s organizing strategy. Instead, they self-identified as belonging to a local that “organizes anybody”:

We’re pretty proud of the fact that we’re the union that will represent anyone, even when other unions don’t want to because it’s economically not feasible. Shaw was the prime example. CUPE [Canadian Union of Public Employees] suggested the workers come to us because they believed that we could take on the kind of fight that it took to win there. (O’Halloran, quoted in Howell and Mah 2005)

The leaders and members alike take a great deal of pride in the local’s willingness to organize any group of workers who want unionization. “We certainly don’t turn anybody away,” said one member. “I’ve never heard of anybody approaching us looking to be unionized and we’ve said no” (member, 6). It is widely recognized by members that organizing targets are often decided by O’Halloran out of personal determination or stubbornness rather than a mapped-out strategy. For example, many feel that the victory at Lakeside was due to O’Halloran refusing to give up. Despite substantial defeats over multiple campaigns at the plant, O’Halloran kept ordering another effort. “So virtually for the first three or four years we never got our allotted 40 percent. But through the persistence of President O’Halloran for one, we remained here” (Duckworth, ALHI interview, 2007).

Often, Local 401 did not actively target employers but simply responded to requests. It was always O’Halloran who decided whether to take on the challenge. In interviews, none of the three leaders were able to articulate a long-term rationale for selecting organizing targets, leaving the impression that campaigns were chosen based on a mixture of opportunity, stubbornness, and personal impulses.

The development of innovative organizing and representation strategies appears to have occurred through a similar ad hoc process. The new approaches to campaigns described in part 1—including multilingual literature, peer-to-peer organizing, involvement in the cultural communities, and new means of persuading potential members—were sometimes strategies that had been used by unions elsewhere, but often they were developed internally through trial and error. But again, the emergence of new tactics was less strategic and proactive than it was reactive, combined with the organizers learning from past mistakes. In the Lakeside experience, for example, the successful drive was an act of jumping on an opportunity created by the immigrant activists who staged a wildcat strike, and the innovations implemented during the drive represented an attempt to learn from past failures. Staff and activists in the local talk about doing things on the fly in response to changing circumstances. A common message among those involved was that they tried new things because old tactics were not working, and at the time, they were not at all sure the innovations would help.

For Local 401, being innovative was simply a survival strategy. “We were going to organize on a large scale,” a staffer recalled. “But that meant massive litigation and not being afraid to litigate. And not being afraid to litigate meant you needed the creative argument and a creative way of doing things” (staff, 24). The local developed a tendency to draw in community groups, such as churches and advocacy organizations, into their disputes and broadening the nature of the issues discussed. It also increased its use of paid advertising to persuade the public and to expand the scope of the dispute. Both were efforts aimed at increasing the profile of the local’s disputes and were developed for specific campaigns rather than as part of an overarching plan for renewal.

Finally, it must be remembered that all of the changes and innovations undertaken by Local 401 occurred in the context of a highly centralized, top-down structure. Decisions to try something new did not have to be debated by a large body or wait on the approval of an oversight committee. Changing course was usually a matter of persuading O’Halloran that something was a good idea. In other words, while it is not impossible that a similar dynamic would have emerged even if the local had operated in a more democratic manner, Local 401’s hierarchical structure and internal processes facilitated the implementation of fast-paced, ad hoc decisions. Furthermore, the presence of a highly streamlined decision-making process, which allowed the local to change direction as need be, tended to discourage its leadership from sitting down to plan for the future. As a result, the local did not develop grand schemes and new visions for how to chart its future. Instead, change came from a series of reactive decisions that had longer-term ramifications for the organization.

Interactions with Narratives

The local engaged in reactive, pragmatic innovations that proved effective in revitalizing the union in a number of ways. Both the centralized structures and O’Halloran’s ability to carve out an independent space for the local were integral to facilitating the implementation of those innovations. But what led to the cumulative nature of the reforms? Something set in motion a dynamic that encouraged continuous improvement and ongoing experimentation. To answer that question, we return to the notion of narrative.

In chapter 4, I argued that families of narratives created an internal logic that made sense of the local’s experiences. The logic flowed into a self-identity that defined 401’s character and behaviour. While the local’s leaders clearly did not have an overarching plan for renewal, within the logic created by their narratives, they believed that their actions were consistent with Local 401’s identity and that what they were doing simply made sense. It is this sense of consistency that sets in motion the possibility of ongoing revitalization.

That the leaders perceived themselves to be acting in accord with this broader self-identity is illustrated in how they framed the rationales for many of their actions, frequently justifying their innovations, changes, and actions through the claim of being guided by higher principles. In doing so, they brought in the language of many of their narratives, speaking of the union as being member-driven, militant, and principled and claiming that effectiveness requires strong, accessible leadership. Also implicit in their language was the narrative that Local 401 is different from other unions.

A few examples may illustrate the degree to which they appealed to the internal logic created by their narratives to understand and explain their actions. On the issue of increasing strike pay, O’Halloran, in addition to acknowledging the strategic benefits, emphasized that they acted out of a sense of fairness and concern for their members’ well-being: “We are able to keep the wolf away from the door” (quoted in Kleiss 2009).

The local’s leadership returned time and time again to the concept of acting upon principles or a broader philosophy. When explaining why the local is willing to organize anyone, O’Halloran put it down to principles:

You know, some places that have twenty members, forty members, fifty members—a lot of unions won’t organize them. A lot of unions won’t organize places where you know you are going to have a fight. We have always had a different philosophy. The union should always be there with morals and principles to do the job for the underdog.

Here, O’Halloran draws upon both the commitment to principles and the local’s superiority to other unions, which further elevates the nobility of the union’s cause.

The leaders were unable to provide strategic reasons why they target the workplaces they do for organizing. Again, they returned to principle. “It really is a philosophy that either you have or you don’t have,” said O’Halloran. Hesse argued that the local’s more controversial communications strategies arise from the fact that its leaders are “truth tellers.” “I think there is an element of responsibility,” he said. “Employers will say it is outrageously provocative to talk about food safety in Lakeside, but it would be irresponsible not to.”

One could argue that these justifications are simply examples of rhetoric designed to create the impression of acting upon principle. But why would Local 401’s leaders be reluctant to admit that their decisions were actually based on strategic considerations? Furthermore, the language of principles was used by a wide range of participants in the study, not just the leadership trio. Narratives about social responsibility are evidently deeply ingrained in the identity of Local 401.

It is clear that the local’s leadership, staff, and members draw from the constructed narratives to explain and make sense of their action. But it is equally clear that the internal logic arising from those narratives shapes the actions that the local takes. When confronted with the need to decide how to respond to a new situation or problem, we naturally draw upon past experiences and learning. Since narratives help us make sense of our experiences, the stories we have constructed about our past actions will loom large at that moment of decision. Such is the dynamic that took shape in Local 401. When faced with a new challenge—a tough organizing drive, demands for rollbacks, difficulty in mobilizing new members—Local 401 leaders, staff, and activists have drawn upon past experiences, which have been ordered and explained through the prism of their constructed narratives, to inform their decisions and actions. Having built a self-identity of a principled, militant, responsive, member-driven union, a logic kicks in that propels them to act in a similar fashion the next time. Subsequently, innovation begets further innovation, even if it was not strictly planned. Add to that a structure and leadership style that facilitates the implementation of innovative ideas, and the local is set upon a course of revitalization, even if its members and leaders are unaware of that direction.

THE DYNAMICS OF UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES

As Local 401’s evolution over the past twenty years reveals, renewal arose from a series of pragmatic, reactive decisions rather than from any conscious strategy to revamp the local’s practices and approach. This raises the question of the relationship between intention and outcome in the context of union renewal. Clearly, in the absence of decisions made by Local 401’s leaders, it is very unlikely that renewal would have occurred—and yet those decisions were not intended to produce renewal. Such a scenario, in which union revitalization occurs inadvertently, stands in a position to add nuance and depth to our understanding of union renewal processes.

Accidental Revitalization

I began this project expecting to find that Local 401’s leaders had experienced a eureka moment, a point when they recognized the need to change if the local was to survive. That moment never came. While the leaders recognized the threats of a downward trend in the grocery industry, the rising wave of neoliberalism and its associated antiunion animus, and the challenges of increasing diversity in the workforce, they never crafted a strategy to combat or address these challenges. Perhaps they were too busy fighting immediate battles. Instead, renewal came via a series of ad hoc decisions as they tried not to repeat past mistakes and to become more effective in a pragmatic way.

The particular path taken by UFCW Local 401 does not fit neatly with current theories about how unions reform themselves. As discussed earlier, reform efforts are seen as resulting either from directed, centralized action by national leadership in response to an analysis of a problem (Voss 2010; Stinson and Ballantyne 2006) or from rank-and-file insurgence that turns the local toward activist unionism (Cranford and Ladd 2003; Kainer 2009, 15–32). In the case of Local 401, it was a bit of both and a lot of neither. The national union played a minor role in directing resources for organizing, and a subset of local members had become more active, spurring some change. However, the bulk of the transformation resulted from the actions of local staff and leadership. Furthermore, renewal occurred without an identifiable crisis within the local, without a change in leadership, and without a vocal call for change by the membership, all of which are regularly identified as necessary precursors to renewal efforts. Perhaps most important, the change occurred without an intentional, conscious plan of action. The leaders of Local 401 did not set out to renew their local; they were simply going about their business as best they could.

The patterns observed in the case of Local 401 might usefully be termed “accidental revitalization”—although this is not to imply that revitalization was a matter of blind luck or chance. Accidental revitalization refers to a situation in which actions that have an immediate, short-term goal end up leading to longer-term transformations of union behaviour and structure. Local 401 leaders did not embark on a project to revamp how their local operates; in fact, in many respects, they were (and still are) highly conservative. Instead, they responded to specific issues with focused decisions designed to win particular battles. However, taken together, their decisions developed an internal consistency, fuelled by a strong self-identity narrative, and thus built upon one another in a way that served to alter the longer-term trajectory of the local.

The notion of accidental revitalization does not deny the existence of logic and intentionality. Rather, the “accident” in accidental revitalization resides in the relationship between immediate intention and eventual outcome. In arriving at decisions, Local 401’s leaders sought to identify actions that it perceived would serve the best interests of the local in the present situation. Overall, their goal was to expand and strengthen the union. Some might thus argue that the renewal of Local 401 was not accidental at all but was rather a deliberate process spearheaded by the union’s leaders. O’Halloran, in particular, made key decisions at key moments. He decided to organize outside the grocery industry. He decided to increase picket pay. He decided to adopt innovative organizing tactics. Inarguably, these actions led to revitalization. So what is accidental here?

The answer has to do with intention. In making decisions, the intention of the Local 401 leadership was to take the most promising next step, and their logic was thus circumscribed by the moment. At no point were the union’s leaders able to articulate an overall strategy for the local or even, for that matter, a concrete vision. Their account of events revealed a high degree of short-term thinking, with little apparent attention given to mapping out the future. Their focus fell on the moment, not on sustaining the vibrancy of the local over the longer term. To engage in an intentional process of renewal, however, one needs more than ad hoc decisions. Most studies of union renewal find the presence of an explicit plan for change, and that was lacking in the case of Local 401. Yet the fact that no policy papers or grand edicts informed the actions taken by the union’s leadership does not diminish their impact, nor does it reduce their effectiveness in contributing to long-term change.

The concept of accidental revitalization opens up space for an understanding of change within unions capable of accommodating the complex practical considerations that operate on the ground. Often there is insufficient time to ponder a long-term strategy for survival: sometimes unions have to react immediately. The term “accidental revitalization” seeks to capture the fact that a union’s trajectory is often the result of a series of responses to continually evolving conditions, internal as well as external—responses that interact to produce unanticipated consequences over time. The term serves to focus our attention on the unintended or inadvertent nature of the long-term change, which emerges almost as a by-product. In the case of Local 401, renewal was not the goal, but it was the result.

Accidental revitalization can be integrated into more deliberate models of renewal, creating a multifaceted explanation of how unions renew themselves. Whether from the top down or through rank-and-file action, a union may construct a framework for reform and then implement critical decisions, yet the outcome is still contingent on the reactions of individual actors to immediate situations. In the context of a renewal project, a local’s executive staff, along with union organizers and activists, are called upon to engage with workers, employers, and representatives of external agencies (such as the state or the press), all of whom have their own interests. Those actors must frequently make judgment calls, and, while their judgment may be informed by broader strategies, the specific choices they make shape the overall direction of the renewal project. Accidental revitalization recognizes that any organization committed to its own evolution is caught in a dialectic between intentions and consequences. Actions may be purposeful, but their outcome can rarely be predicted with certainty.

Local 401 from the Perspective of Referential Unionisms

Perhaps not surprisingly, union renewal is often associated with a change in leadership, given the tendency of power become entrenched. But it is important not to overstate the case. As Local 401 illustrates, at least in some circumstances, strong and well-established leaders can act as agents of transformation. The willingness of leaders to make bold decisions is contingent upon a variety of factors, including the internalized narrative frameworks within which they operate and the opportunities available to them to implement change without undermining the security of their position. If the decisions made by Local 401’s leadership ultimately played a central role in the union’s revitalization, however, they did so in the context of the local’s existing and emerging referential unionisms. The concept of referential unionisms thus offers a useful lens through which to view the changes that occurred at Local 401.

The most visible aspect of the local’s evolution lies in its repertoire of actions. The toolbox of actions available to the local’s leadership both shifted and expanded significantly over the years. As Murray et al. (2010, 315) point out, new repertoires of action generally evolve through a process in which “defeat and victory, support and opposition, imagination and repression variously overlap” (315). The more effective certain actions were in the past, the more likely they are to be repeated, with the result that repertoires of action can function as obstacles to change. In the critical estimation of Local 401’s leaders, however, many of the union’s past actions seemed unlikely to be successful in present circumstances. They therefore exercised their imagination, rejecting long-standing approaches and developing new organizing tactics.

Although, during the period of study, the leadership of Local 401 remained stable, collective identities within the union underwent a significant transformation. Along with an influx of women and youth, the ethnic composition of the local shifted dramatically, multiplying the number of collective identities gathered beneath the Local 401 umbrella. This, in turn, placed pressure on the representative capacity of the local’s leadership. Its response was to foster a strong identity for Local 401 as a whole, thereby creating a group cohesion that transcended other identities and facilitated collective action against employers. In creating this sense of shared identity, the union’s leaders made effective use of the power resources at their disposal, most notably narrative resources, which played a central role in building an internal logic and diminishing resistance to change. In addition, the leadership drew on both internal and external resources, by enhancing communication strategies and cultivating organic leaders and by forging political alliances.

At the time, changes in the union’s core industry, including an increasingly antagonistic stance on the part of employers, had raised questions about the sustainability of relatively collaborative approaches to negotiating with employers. The need for new tactics was a test of the local’s strategic capacity. Its leaders responded successfully, displaying a clear ability to interpret new situations and adjust the union’s actions accordingly. They were particularly adept at the use of one of the key components of strategic capacity, namely, framing. As Murray et al. (2010, 317) explain, framing refers to “the capacity of unions to develop and put forward their own projects and relate them to a larger whole,” a process that entails “shaping a common understanding of society, collective action and the role of unions.” Local 401’s leaders were very good at articulating a broader framework within which to situate and justify the union’s actions.

During the periods under study, Local 401’s leadership faced two major challenges—one internal, in the form of an increasingly diverse membership, and the other external, in the form of the reaction of employers to changes in the economy. The challenge to the union’s representative capacity created by the development of new collective identities demanded that the leadership work to foster and maintain internal solidarity, while also safeguarding their own authority. In response, the local’s leaders drew on power resources, especially discursive resources, to create a sense of stability—to define a clear identity for Local 401 around which workers could rally and to persuade members to have faith in existing organizational structures and centralized leadership.

At the same time, shifts in the negotiating climate required the leadership to pursue new tactics, which not only further expanded and diversified its membership, as the local successfully organized new workplaces, but also altered its familiar repertoire of action. As a result, Local 401’s leaders had to find ways to justify these new modes of behaviour, both to union members and to the broader community. Again, they drew on narrative resources to create an internal logic that, while reinforcing a sense of unity and stability, also expanded the union’s strategic capacity by providing a framing that legitimated the decisions made by its leadership. The union’s high degree of strategic capacity in turn facilitated changes to both its repertoire of action and its representative capacity, changes that were bolstered, especially, by the use of narrative resources.

In the case of Local 401, the interaction of the five dimensions thus reveals a complex and dynamic matrix of factors that created a pathway for renewal. One can speculate that, had changes within one of the dimensions taken a different shape, the matrix might have disintegrated, and possibly revitalization might not have occurred at all. In other words, even though Local 401 might initially seem an unexpected site for renewal, one can construct a coherent explanation for the phenomenon by examining the interconnections among the union’s five basic dimensions. While narrative resources and the logic they impose on leadership are central to the story of Local 401, narratives do not exist in isolation. Rather, the changes observed at Local 401 were produced in part by interactions between narratives and other factors.

An analysis of union behaviour based on the model of referential unionisms, which emphasizes the dynamic nature of the interpretive frameworks that give rise to a union’s self-definition, dovetails easily with the notion of accidental revitalization. Understanding change as the product of interaction among a series of variables—the five dimensions—allows space for accident. Not only is the precise form that these dimensions assume in the context of a particular union itself contingent on human action, but so are the outcomes of the interactions among them. At a micro level, the model allows us to identify points at which a contingency intervened to alter the intended outcome of a specific action, as well as to trace the ramifications of this unexpected outcome for the union ecosystem as a whole. At a macro level, we can see how, over time, changes within one or more of the variables—whether these changes were prompted by internal decisions or external forces—altered existing patterns of interaction to produce results (such as renewal) that union actors did not actually set out to create.

LESSONS FROM LOCAL 401

As we have seen, the transformation of Local 401 over the past two decades challenges much of the standard wisdom about the circumstances that give rise to union renewal. Although the Local 401 leadership recognized the need to respond to an increasingly inhospitable climate within the grocery industry, which it did by choosing to organize outside that industry, we cannot point to a particular point of crisis or a specific moment when a strategic decision was made to alter the basic philosophy or character of the union. The changes in Local 401 did not result from rank-and-file agitation, nor did they reflect strategic decisions made at the national level. The standard triggers of renewal are absent.

Bearing in mind that Local 401 is only a single case, what can we learn from the particular way in which its revitalization occurred? Certain conditions were present, even if they were not the familiar ones. The leadership was secure, but it was not isolated from the local’s members. It faced immediate challenges that sparked innovative strategies, and it had enough legitimacy and authority to implement these strategies. And, finally, the local’s narrative self-framing—the stories it told about itself—created the image of a bold, “fighting” union, willing to embrace change, while at the same time affirming a number of enduring principles that served as an anchor. Even if the actions taken by Local 401’s leaders were motivated more by pragmatics than principle, the narrative framework lent coherence to those actions.

In short, in the case of Local 401, the process of revitalization rested on a combination of internal logic, narratives, and structures that facilitate action. In addition, the local’s leaders obviously played a central role in the changes that occurred—yet they did not intentionally embark on renewal. Their focus fell on the immediate future, and their decisions aimed to achieve short-term objectives. But the actions they took altered the union’s equilibrium, changing the patterns of interaction among its various components. In the longer term, then, the result was a shift in Local 401’s referential unionisms. Although inadvertently, the local redefined itself, and in a way that produced revitalization.

The concept of accidental revitalization has the potential to deepen and strengthen our understanding of how unions change. For the most part, union leaders and activists are preoccupied with daily issues and challenges. They focus their energy on the latest round of negotiations, the current organizing drive, or a looming political campaign. At the local level, unionists are pragmatic practitioners. While they are most certainly capable of long-term vision and strategizing, the emphasis often falls on more immediate concerns. There is an intuitive logic to understanding renewal as a by-product of shorter-term decisions. Drawing upon that intuitive logic can contribute to a more robust theorizing of union renewal.