Conclusion

There is something for everyone in the story of UFCW Local 401. For those who simply appreciate a strong narrative, it has bold, colourful personalities and no shortage of incidents. For activists, it is an inspiring tale of workers standing up for their rights, and for diversity advocates, it spotlights immigrants and racialized workers, women, and youth. For the labour historian, it offers some significant moments in modern labour history, including the Lakeside Packers strike and law-changing court challenges. Organizational scholars can get a glimpse into the nature of organizational culture and change, and labour relations practitioners can take away an array of strategies and tactics that can be employed elsewhere.

The story of Local may hold the greatest benefit, however, for those who care about the future of unions. Both those working with and in unions and those who study them can learn and apply important lessons from the past two decades of UFCW Local 401. Although Local 401 is only one local operating in a handful of sectors in one western Canadian province, the struggles it faces, the challenges it has overcome, and the dilemmas it confronts are essentially the same as those faced by all unions in the twenty-first century. Yet, while Local 401 is in many ways similar to other locals in Canada, it features a complex combination of internal dynamics rarely found within a single local. Once we begin to investigate these dynamics, we find we have little choice but to start asking questions about some of the bigger issues related to unionism in the twenty-first century and about our conventional understanding of how unions act.

THE (APPARENT) CONTRADICTIONS OF UFCW LOCAL 401

I selected UFCW Local 401 as a case study because it displayed fascinating inconsistencies. Indeed, contradiction has been at the heart of the study, and understanding Local 401 requires coming to terms with the nature of that contradiction. Indeed, it is through embracing the contradiction that the most valuable insights emerge. During the course of the study, it became increasingly clear that the apparent inconsistencies were, to some degree, a matter of complexity rather than contradiction.

However, contradiction did not entirely disappear. In fact, an element of contradiction is fundamental to unions. As Richard Hyman (1975, 199) reminds us, “There is an inherent dialectic in the processes of control over work relations: conflict and accommodation are two contradictory but inescapable aspects of industrial relations.” Hyman’s comment points to the reality that unions are born of and immersed in a contradiction—that of challenging the structures of capitalism and operating within its limits. We try to downplay the contradiction by adopting the business/social union divide, but the act of simplifying strips away some of the important insights we can gain by embracing the contradictory tendencies within union behaviour.

What, then, do we learn from a case study of Local 401? When the local is examined in detail, we discover that it wears neither a white nor a black hat. Studying Local 401 thus teaches us the importance of viewing unions in their totality and remaining open to the tensions and apparent contradictions that force their way into the picture. In addition, we discover that Local 401 is a union in motion, one that has changed significantly over the past two decades. It has more or less repudiated the UFCW International’s preference for voluntary recognitions and tame negotiations. It has branched out to new industries and found ways to attract workers underrepresented by unions, adopting innovative organizing strategies along the way. It has become a relatively militant union, if militancy is measured in terms of strikes and rhetoric. It is becoming more engaged with politics, not just with the NDP but with community-based groups such as Migrante Alberta and the Parkland Institute. Moreover, far from inhibiting transformative change, the local’s stable, highly centralized leadership has actually facilitated it.

Local 401 has also begun, somewhat belatedly, to improve its communication and engagement with members. At the same time, in terms of equity and democracy, it still lags behind. While the local has reached out to diverse groups of workers, its leaders have not taken the more difficult steps required to ensure that young, female, and/or racialized workers have a place of equality within the union. Similarly, it has, to a degree, empowered members on the shop floor and on picket lines, but it has not created democratic processes that would allow those members a formal voice in how the union is run. Although the local’s top-down structure has facilitated certain forms of change, it also places limits on internal openness and participation.

These apparent inconsistences bring us to the issue of internal logic. What might at first appear inconsistent or perhaps even contradictory to an external observer acquires coherence when viewed within a narrative framework, one with which insiders are already familiar. Narratives articulate an organization’s sense of self-identity and purpose, on the basis of which we are then able to interpret its behaviour. When Local 401’s actions are understood within the framework provided by its narratives, those actions make sense. In other words, analyzing narratives allows us to grasp the internal logic that operates within the local. Grasping that logic does not oblige us to accept a union’s behaviour on its terms. In the end, we may conclude that the union’s internal logic is flawed or that it fails to justify certain actions—but first we must understand that logic, and we must suspend judgment long enough to do so.

A number of questions remain about the local. Yes, it is growing more political, but its politics are not really about transformation or substantial social change; rather, they are about practical electoral and community issues. How are we to assess this approach? Does Local 401 meet the standard of a so-called social union? How much less (or more) is it really doing than most unions in Canada these days?

Second, how are we to evaluate the local’s approach to union democracy? The dynamic within Local 401 forces us to confront the difficult question of the balance between participatory democracy (a central tenet of unionism) and the capacity to act decisively and quickly in response to crises. Are these aspects in conflict, as the Local 401 narrative suggests, or is there a way to achieve both?

Third, do the narratives within Local 401 exert a predominantly positive or negative force? As I mentioned at the end of chapter 4, how one views the impact of these narratives depends heavily on one’s perspective. What features of an organization does one deem most important? Which principles matter more in our assessment of this union local’s actions and their outcome? There is no single answer, nor should we expect one. Rather, evaluating Local 401 entails a series of partial answers accompanied by caveats: “Yes, but . . .” and “No, but . . .” Such equivocation suggests simply that we acknowledge the inevitability of contradictions and that we appreciate the manifold ways in which complex entities can be evaluated.

Much can be learned from the story of UFCW Local 401—and not just in terms of organizing innovations, bold communications, and timely legal appeals. We can use the case of Local 401 to develop more nuanced and enriched ways to understand unions and their actors, ways that more accurately reflect the complex, conflicted, and contingent realities of unionism in the twenty-first century. That may seem a lot to ask of a single union local, but President O’Halloran has always said he is up for any challenge, so it may not be so much to ask after all.

PRACTICAL LESSONS

A number of practical lessons can be taken from UFCW Local 401’s experiences over the past twenty years. The first and possibly most valuable lesson is the message that unions need not be afraid of experimenting, even if they haven’t fully worked out a path forward to renewal. Local 401 was constantly solving problems, trying new things to fix what wasn’t working. Not all of its attempts were successful, but those that worked were repeated. The case of Local 401 demonstrates that considerable positive change can occur through makeshift problem-solving. Too often, union leaders are afraid to make mistakes or believe that they have to have a sweeping strategy before change can occur. Local 401 has demonstrated otherwise.

Many of the innovations implemented by Local 401 serve as a useful reminder that in order to organize effectively in the twenty-first century, unions need to become more responsive, more creative, and more proactive. The local’s organizing success demonstrates the effectiveness of strong, well-trained, and well-supported inside committees; peer-to-peer organizing; and organic leaders nurtured within worker communities. Simple actions like translating materials into workers’ first languages can reap disproportionate benefits in an organizing drive. In general, the experiences of Local 401 are a lesson in the value of tailoring strategies to accommodate the specific needs and perspectives of the workers.

The effectiveness of Local 401’s decision to raise strike pay cannot be overstated. While not all unions may be in a financial position to offer strike pay that covers most of their members’ lost salaries (401’s members tend to be in lower-paid occupations), the labour movement needs to re-evaluate the economic price paid by workers for going on strike. Globalization and neoliberalism have undermined unions’ ability to exact economic pain on employers during labour disputes, since it is increasingly difficult to hamper production. Employers are in a stronger position than they were several decades ago to wait out picketing workers. One way to counter this change is to increase strike pay, which strengthens the resolve of striking workers. The day of token stipends for picketing may be coming to an end.

Local 401’s brash and aggressive communications strategies, especially during labour disputes, have been controversial. They universally earn the employer’s ire, sometimes land the local in legal hot water, and often teeter on the edge of incredulity. That said, they have also proven remarkably effective in garnering public attention, broadening the scope of the dispute to issues that are in the public interest, and embarrassing employers into settling—or at least altering their behaviour. While the local’s provocative ads, attack websites, and appeals to issues of marginal relevance to the bargaining table may seem outrageous and amateurish, especially to communications professionals, as strategic tools they work. These communications also have a secondary benefit—they send a message to their members that the local is fighting with every possible tool it can find. Other unions, and those who study unions, should take note of the ability of these strategies to goad employers into settlement.

Beyond specific tactics, some additional lessons emerge from the story of UFCW Local 401. Intentionally or not, the local’s leadership created a culture of learning within the union. Innovation was encouraged and new ideas were seriously considered. The local developed a capacity to learn from past failures and successes, a capacity that, over time, reaped substantial benefits. Although a discussion of how to create an organizational culture of learning is beyond the scope of this book, we would be wise to consider how to foster an environment where innovation and experimentation are encouraged. Local 401 has also demonstrated the power of building confidence, trust, and solidarity among members. The consequences of the Safeway strike twenty years ago—which failed because of apathy, unwillingness to strike, and internal division—are still being felt among portions of the membership. In contrast, the victory at Lakeside has helped prevent ethnic and cultural divisions from undermining the union. One reason why members believe that Local 401 is a militant union is because they can point to tangible examples of the union taking on the employer and winning. Obviously, victories cannot be manufactured at will, but unions can use the victories they earn to propel future activism. Victories need to become embedded in the self-identity of the union.

In addition, unions must not diminish the importance of perception. Members need to see their union standing up for them. In Local 401, the actions taken by the staff and leadership were highly visible to members. The leaders spent a great deal of energy on ensuring that members knew what the union was doing for them. From provocative ads, to workplace campaigns, to a boastful approach regarding past and current achievements, the leaders never missed an opportunity to inform their members about how great a job the local was doing. Some may consider this to be manipulation of the members, and there certainly was some self-interested motivation. But the self-promotion went beyond rhetoric; the leaders had to walk the talk. And it worked. Their efforts built pride and confidence among the members, which made mobilizing easier when the need arose.

We should also not lose sight of the interactions between formal and informal dynamics in a union. As Local 401 shows us, sometimes the informal processes and interactions that emerge can have a greater impact on the life of the union than the formalized structures. Union researchers often emphasize the formal aspects of internal union democracy. Perhaps more attention needs to be paid to those informal aspects and their ability to create change in a union.

There are some tougher lessons as well. Local 401 is credited, rightfully, for mobilizing and engaging hard-to-organize workers, particularly racialized workers. What the local’s experience shows us, however, is that it is one thing to bring new workers into the union. It is a much more difficult task to fully integrate them as equals into the life of the union. Having them sign union cards is the beginning of the work, not the end. Furthermore, establishing committees and providing sensitivity training are insufficient. Unions that wish to take diversity seriously need to critically examine their structures and processes to evaluate how they create barriers to participation for groups traditionally underserved by unions. Again, here is not the place to engage in a fuller discussion of the issue, but Hunt and Rayside (2007) offer an insightful examination of diversity in labour for those interested in exploring further.

Finally, the case of Local 401 leaves us with a challenging question around the issue of centralized leadership. Doug O’Halloran elicits strong reactions in the Alberta labour movement—and probably among readers of this book. Some may be tempted to dismiss his achievements because of the methods he sometimes employs. Others may wish to take the case study as an example of why internal union democracy is overrated or as confirmation that Robert Michels (2001) was right about the iron law of oligarchy after all. I would urge that a different kind of lesson be taken from this study. In unions, there will always be a tension between democratic control by members and the need for fast, clear decision-making. Union activists and researchers would be well-served by remaining mindful of that tension at all times and incorporating that awareness into their actions. Only if we are conscious of the enticing attraction of centralized control can we ensure that it does not overtake the interests of members, while at the same time preventing paralysis through process.

CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE STUDY OF UNIONS

From the beginning, this book has never been solely about UFCW Local 401. The local’s story was used as an instance upon which to foster generalizable insights. Case studies are valuable in their ability to use specific contexts to draw out issues of greater import. The specific conditions that brought about the changes in Local 401 cannot be wholly replicated elsewhere: some aspect will always be different. But that does not prevent us from considering the broader implications of what was found in examining their trajectory.

This book focused on three areas of inquiry: the effect of contradictions on the business union/social union conceptualization, emerging complexities of union renewal, and the role of narratives in shaping union dynamics. While those areas were made explicit throughout, it may be valuable to briefly discuss how the findings contribute to the study of unions in Canada.

Contradiction and the Unionism Divide

A key goal of the book was to examine the consequences of contradictory tendencies within a union on our perceptions of business and social unionisms, which have traditionally been regarded as two opposites, either as dichotomies or opposite ends of a spectrum. As was discussed at length in chapter 6, Local 401 is not easily categorized within the dominant conceptualization as it exists because neither category fully describes the characteristics of this local. The case teaches us that the reality is much more multidimensional and complex.

Paradoxically, the contradiction we see in union action is both inevitable and illusory. It is inevitable because unions exist in an ambivalent relationship to capitalism: they need both to work within it and to challenge it. Stated another way, when unions act on behalf of workers they strike at the heart of capitalist structures (i.e., capital’s control of the means of production), the very same structures upon which a union’s existence depends. How each union responds to this contradiction is conditioned by its history, its structure, the nature of its membership, and the context within which it operates, as well as by the internal logic that informs its actions and the stories that it tells about itself. The extent to which a union privileges one or the other of these two contradictory objectives will determine its position on the business-social union continuum. Especially in the case of unions situated toward the two extremes on the continuum, actions that support the objective that the union generally de-emphasizes may appear to contradict its fundamental identity.

But this contradiction is also illusory. The actions of a union gain an internal coherence if we adopt a more fluid approach to interpreting how unions behave. A new approach necessitates seeing unions not as static institutions, identified by skeletal observations of structure and outward appearance, but as bodies in motion. They are also bodies tethered to their history and structure, creating a form of bounded creation and re-creation. When we observe a union carefully in its context, examining closely the union’s self-identifying narratives and internal logic, what initially seems contradictory begins to become reconciled.

We must also develop more fluid notions of union forms, notions that allow for a union to exist in multiple spaces simultaneously. As noted in chapter 6, most current theorizing about unionisms adopts a paradigm like that of Newtonian physics, but a shift to something resembling quantum physics is required in order to explain apparent anomalies. If we can acknowledge that a union can embody aspects of both business and social unionism (in fact, is likely to), then we can build a more nuanced understanding of how unions function.

One of the barriers to adopting a more fluid and nimble conceptualization of unionisms is how we tend to use the terms business unionism and social unionism in practice. Often, these terms are used not to edify but to strategically position. The act of categorizing unions is not as dispassionately clinical as identifying species of birds by their plumage. Both those who are active in unions and those who study them have certain political or strategic agendas and are thus invested in the outcomes. These interests drive the tendency toward oversimplification. However, we may be doing unions a disservice by creating unattainable markers that lead ultimately to disappointment and confusion. There is a need to use the terms with greater care and subtlety.

So how should we deal with the business/social union divide? The terms social union and business union will continue to exist, since they serve a practical purpose as shorthand for the general priorities of particular unions, but the unintended consequence of their use is the stunting of our understanding of how and why unions act. Therefore, we need to find a way to open the concepts up to greater fluidity. This study cannot complete that task, but it may open the door to a possibility. Rather than evaluate unions on a single criterion (social/business), we need to recognize that unions exist on multiple planes and that both types of unionism can be embodied in a particular union and called on at different times and for different actions.

The Local 401 case serves as a practical application of Ross’s (2012) three dimensions of union practice—collective action frames, strategic repertoires, and internal organizational practices—and demonstrates that her conceptualization has potential to draw out nuances regarding the nature of union forms. This study suggests that Ross’s dimensions can be expanded to include other relevant aspects of unions, including formal versus informal processes, approaches to employer relations, staff roles, and so on. The combination of Ross’s theoretical work and the empirical findings of this case study suggest that rather than relying upon a single continuum when evaluating union practice and forms of unionism, we should construct a matrix that incorporates the various aspects of union structure and action. By isolating these aspects and permitting them to potentially conflict and contradict one another, we can build a richer picture of union life. A preliminary sketch of this matrix would include measures for the union’s formal structures, informal processes, leadership style, roles of members and staff, member activism, approach to employer relations, organizing methods, and political activism, among others. The union’s narratives are also a necessary element of the matrix, for they create an internal logic that ties the separate components together.

Dynamics in Revitalization

The second central focus of the book is how the internal processes and dynamics within unions advance our knowledge of how unions revitalize and renew. The case of Local 401 reveals that renewal can be more complex than the literature anticipates and that the process is more uneven and can be less planned than previously thought.

Local 401 did not set out to revitalize, yet a degree of renewal occurred. Furthermore, it took the shape of bounded change within a context of leadership stability. Both unplanned renewal and revitalization through the initiatives of local, stable leadership are unexpected and unaccounted for in the renewal literature. It shows that reform need not arise out of a grand plan or strategy; it can emerge through the compiled logic of moment-specific decisions. The increased field of possibility exists because unions are created at the nexus of structure and action. Unions possess a variety of structures and engage in renewal actions in a manner consistent with their context. This complexity allows for greater scope around when and how unions revitalize themselves than is often acknowledged.

This lack of acknowledgement may stem, in part, from the fact that much of the renewal literature has looked at the more obvious cases of intentional, planned renewal. The most famous case, SIEU’s Justice for Janitors, possessed a scope and range that left an indelible mark on the renewal literature. Other, more grassroots reforms arose from dramatic local events and thus were also highly noticeable. Change at Local 401, in contrast, took place under the radar. No one really saw the transformation because it was never announced as a plan and it occurred in slow motion, over many years. Further masking the renewal was the entrenched senior leadership, giving the impression of inertia rather than change. The lesson here is that sometimes we need to take both a longer view and a closer look at what is happening inside unions to ascertain whether renewal is occurring or has already taken place, for it is not always obvious from the outside. The dynamics that foster (or inhibit) renewal can be both more subtle and more complex than expected. Renewal can appear in multiple forms and via myriad processes. Accidental revitalization, as described in chapter 5, is a source of so-called stable change. How widespread this form of renewal is remains unknown, but this study demonstrates that it is possible to establish the conditions that lead to accidental revitalization through a stable yet motivated leadership. This new form of revitalization can sit comfortably alongside existing descriptions of renewal. Its purpose is to highlight our emerging awareness of the complexities of union renewal. It may well be that the bulk of union renewal efforts occur via either planned strategy from above or directed change from below. Accidental revitalization may be rare, but its presence confirms the importance of contingence in union renewal. Further research will have to demonstrate how common this accidental form of renewal might be.

The Role of Narratives

The third purpose of the book is to demonstrate that narratives are a fruitful avenue of inquiry to explain union behaviour. Using critical narrative analysis, I sought to draw out insights into how the leaders and members themselves come to understand their own actions and responses—in other words, what narratives they constructed about their actions. Actors’ interpretations of events is an underexamined phenomenon in the study of unions; we seem preoccupied by cataloging what unions do and thus lose sight of why they do it. Critical narrative analysis opens a window into the internal world of unionists, allowing us both to see how they come to understand their actions and to question those actions and the interpretations of them.

The case study makes clear that how activists and leaders understand the forces acting on them and interpret their own responses to those forces have very real consequences for union action. Narratives play a critical role in constructing internal logics that propel certain actions while limiting others. In the case of Local 401, those narratives created space for a particular kind of change while simultaneously entrenching leadership styles that benefit those in power in the local. Other unions might come to understand their situations differently, and their narratives might shape a different form of union action.

Narratives both arise from and shape a union’s history, structure, and context, so how a union’s members and leaders come to understand external forces and their own responses to them will be internally consistent but will vary from union to union. In other words, a union’s response to the challenges of the twenty-first century is highly contingent.

Narratives play a clear role in union dynamics. They organize experience and build a self-identity upon which an internal logic is formed. This internal logic propels the union forward, creating a coherency behind the apparent confusion of union action. Narratives are crucial to creating solidarity and member affinity with the union. They can also function as tools for maintaining power structures within the local, since they can provide rationales for the status quo. Futhermore, narratives provide insight into the internal life of unions and into union revitalization, revealing things not observable through other means. In this regard, they contribute to our understanding of unions in multiple ways. They provide glimpses into the motivations and perspectives of union actors, helping us to refine our understanding of forms of unionism and acting as a conduit between experience and self-identity.

In addition to using narrative to help understand union actions and motivation, it is important to apply a critical analysis to reveal how power is exercised in unions. By recognizing that narratives are not neutral, we can isolate the ways in which the powerful legitimize their power within the union through the construction of narratives. Narrative provides us with deeper insights into how union actors understand and interpret their actions, but recognizing its role in power dynamics allows us to remain critical of those actions by revealing the interests being served through narrative.

LOCAL 401: NOT AN ANOMALY

One of the challenges facing any case study is demonstrating that the study is relevant to a more general set of circumstances. It is possible that UFCW Local 401 is an anomaly, an entity created by a set of circumstances so distinct as to be virtually unrepeatable. In that event, the conclusions we draw cannot be generalized: they lose their capacity to reveal something about unions in Canada. All case studies run the risk of failing to demonstrate relevance, and often only time can adequately determine whether they pass or fail in that regard.

In one sense, replicability is not the issue, since case studies, which are always embedded in specific contexts, are by definition not replicable (Flyvbjerg 2006). For insights from the Local 401 case to be generalizable, then, the local must, in some fashion, reflect what happens in other union locals. The key question here is whether the unexpected mixture of centralized and stable leadership and slow, evolutionary renewal is so unusual as to be an anomaly, an exception that demonstrates the broader rule. It is possible that the apparent contradictions found in Local 401 are normally unsustainable and that one or the other—the leadership or the move toward change—will collapse if translated to other contexts. However, I argue that by focusing only on the specific dynamics of Local 401, however interesting and illuminating they are, we may miss the broader lessons that can be learned from the case study.

The story of Local 401 becomes more relevant if we remind ourselves that all unions live with contradiction in that they must, in some fashion, grapple with the reality that their raison d’être is both to contest capitalism and to accommodate it. Unions operate within the system, but they must also—if they are to be effective—challenge it. This fundamental relationship with external forces establishes the dynamic of contradiction, and that dynamic will show itself in some fashion in every union. In the case of Local 401, it is possible that the contradictions manifest themselves in a way unique to this local, perhaps appearing starker to the external observer than in other unions, but that is saying something profoundly different than that Local 401 is an anomaly in the labour movement. Every union has its contradictions.

Take, for example, the Canadian Auto Workers (CAW, now Unifor), which for years strongly advocated for government subsidies on behalf of its members’ employers. It also embraced strategic voting, supporting one set of “bad guys” to prevent the victory of a worse set of “bad guys” (Savage 2012). Despite those actions, CAW’s efforts toward building activism, advancing gender equality, and arguing for a greater role for workers in the economy, among other similar efforts, were not diminished. Other unions demonstrate a similar complexity. Likewise, Local 401’s efforts to extend unionization to racialized workers, young workers, and women are not diminished because of its rather top-heavy leadership approach.

Local 401 is therefore not an anomaly because its contradictions only lay bare what every union is forced to confront. Pure forms of social unionism (or business unionism) are not possible because unions live in a complex reality with competing demands. All unions are a mixture of class interest and self-interest. I chose to study Local 401 because I believe it reveals that reality in a particularly intriguing and interesting way. The particularities of its dynamic remain: it is entirely possible, for example, that few union leaders could achieve the degree of legitimized, centralized authority as Doug O’Halloran has. Those particularities, however, should not distract from the possibilities the case brings to light. And in that way, Local 401’s experience is relevant to anyone who is interested in the study of unions.

THE FUTURE

UFCW Local 401 has changed significantly over the past twenty years. We can be certain that it will continue to evolve during the next twenty. The question—one for which there can be no clear answer—is, What form will that evolution take? One of the core lessons of this case study is that unions are created at the intersection of structure, action, and actors. They are constantly in the process of re-creation, but that process is bounded by what has come before. That logic applies to Local 401.

The Future of Local 401

The current leaders of Local 401 were central to the nature of the change that occurred in the union during the period of study. Indeed, it is impossible to disentangle their impact—that of Doug O’Halloran, in particular—from the story of Local 401. As was said many times by interviewees, Local 401 is “Doug’s local”—so important has he been to its development. But O’Halloran is getting older. Having been president for almost thirty years, he has indicated an interest in retiring soon. The prospect of a leadership transition raises many interesting questions about the future of Local 401.

One question of particular relevance is how a leadership shift would impact the careful balance of stability and change that has marked Local 401 for the past two decades. Much of the leadership’s legitimacy flows from O’Halloran’s larger-than-life personality, vocal populism, and centralized authority. It seems unlikely that a successor would possess a similar combination of traits. However, we must be careful not to overestimate the impact of a single individual. O’Halloran’s leadership operated within a broader context of structures, organizational culture, and dynamics. Those broader contexts will not change with O’Halloran’s departure, at least not immediately.

Yet the legitimacy matrix in Local 401 is centred by O’Halloran’s presidency, and his departure will set that dynamic into flux. Aspects of the matrix will remain static, such as the formal structures of the local (in particular, those affording significant authority to the president). Others will need to be reconstructed. The members’ intense loyalty to O’Halloran will not easily transfer to his successor, who will have to find new avenues for creating and maintaining legitimacy. Innovative approaches to organizing and mobilizing will not cease, since they become forms of organizational learning, but they may take directions not contemplated currently. It is impossible to predict whether the local’s militant approach to employers will continue or whether it will revert to something closer to the UFCW Canada norm.

Narratives will no doubt continue to play a role in the union’s behaviour. They will, at least initially, serve as source of stability and continuity within the local, since the narratives transcend the president and are used to define the local’s identity. That definition will hold at least for the immediate transition. But one of the most important features of narratives is their ability to evolve over time while still retaining their form. They will be a resource that the new leader will draw upon to create legitimacy, but they will also be shaped by the actions taken by the new leader.

It is quite possible that what members today allow in terms of centralized authority due to their trust of the current leadership will be deemed unacceptable under a new regime. Transitions are often a time when the internal workings of a local can be altered. Having built a significant activist base in the local and having encouraged new groups of workers to join the union, the future leadership of Local 401 may find those activists and new workers beginning to demand a greater role within the union. The business union–like structures of the local may then begin to falter under a call for greater union democracy.

Of course, the opposite path is also possible: the centralized structures embedded in the local’s bylaws may facilitate a shift back to the business-union approaches used in the earlier days of the local. However, this seems unlikely. The stability of the narratives and the awareness within the local of the union’s recent battles and victories seem forceful enough to prevent a retreat from such practices. Another likely scenario is that the existing patterns will continue, changing slightly to accommodate the particularities of the new leadership.

A return visit to Local 401 a few years from now could prove interesting. While the direction of future change is somewhat uncertain, we can be fairly confident that Local 401 will continue to be an intriguing union local offering much to researchers and interested readers.

The Future of Studying Unions

In this book, I tell the story of one union and extract some lessons that might be applied to the broader study of unions. The approach taken in this case study has some potential to shape how we understand unions and how we come to study them.

First, it gives us the opportunity to step outside the structural functionalism that has pervaded much of union research. Most union studies look at structures, actors, and action, with a focus on formalized processes and verifiable facts. Collecting and analyzing quantitative data as objectively as possible is, of course, critical to the credibility of the research. While these approaches are good at drawing out what happened, the question of why it happened remains unanswered. There is room in the study of unions to explore more fully how the actors understand their actions and to examine how key decisions were made. Answering those questions requires some additional tools. Critical narrative analysis (CNA) is one such tool (Souto-Manning 2014b). CNA is new to the field of industrial relations but has proven beneficial in other disciplines for drawing out the experience of actors within the context of power dynamics. And as this case study demonstrates, it has the potential to unearth interesting new insights into the life of unions. This is not a pitch for CNA, in particular. CNA is simply an example of how applying new and innovative approaches to the examination of unions can reveal dimensions previously overlooked. Union researchers should be exploring the potential of a wide range of methods, analytical approaches, and research topics. A diversity of research questions and study designs can only enrich the body of knowledge about unions.

Second, by embracing contradiction in this study, I stumbled across a new way of understanding union behaviour, stepping outside the either-or dichotomies that litter industrial relations research. Using this perspective, we can see unions in all of their complexity, both as entities born of and bound to a contradictory relationship with capital and capitalism and as bodies in motion, capable of displaying multiple forms of behaviour. Personally, I am excited by the prospect of altering my perspectives on how to understand what unions do and why they do it. I believe there is much to be gained from doing so. Unions are complex human organizations, and that complexity needs to be fully embraced and explored.

As much as the past two decades have been a period of crisis for unions, they have also been a period of challenge for the study of unions. Just as unions are attempting to renew themselves, as union researchers, we have an opportunity to revitalize our craft. Employing new approaches and adopting new perspectives on unions has the potential to reveal things that were previously obscured from view and thus to inject new vigour into the study of unions.

The Future of Unions

Ultimately, the story of UFCW Local 401 is a story of hope. It demonstrates that unions can make the necessary changes to meet the challenges of the twenty-first century. I do not wish to overstate the accomplishments of Local 401, which is merely one local attempting to do the best it can. Many of its innovations and tactics have been tried elsewhere. Its internal dynamics are not an ideal example of democracy in action. Its new certifications, successful strikes, and militant outlook have not altered the economic realities of the industries in which it is engaged.

No, Local 401 has not re-created unionism. But its story is one of hope precisely because of its imperfections and its limited scope. It is a story of a real life, warts-and-all organization attempting to do some good for its members and for society. It shows very clearly that unions can respond to challenges in real time and in real communities to find ways to make the lives of real workers just a little bit better. Local 401 demonstrates that unions are not anachronistic dinosaurs from the industrial age. They can be relevant today among the kinds of worker we have been told for years don’t want unions. They can reach across racial, ethnic, and gender divides and build new expressions of solidarity. They can take on big employers and eke out some victories, at least some of the time.

For me, what gives the greatest sense of hope for the future of unions is that Local 401 shows that change doesn’t have to be perfect; it doesn’t have to be mapped out and efficiently implemented. It can be haphazard, lacking finesse, and still be effective. Unions are run by humans, after all, and a human endeavour is never perfect. It doesn’t have to be. It just has to be good enough.