“4. Narratives and the Making of Local 401” in “Defying Expectations”
4 | Narratives and the Making of Local 401
Over the past two decades, UFCW Local 401 has witnessed changes not only in its membership but also in the strategies pursued by its otherwise very stable leadership. This pattern of flexibility and innovation might initially appear somewhat perplexing, given that the controlling style of leadership and the top-down organizational structures found in Local 401 are not usually associated with militant activism and the embrace of change. After spending many months observing UFCW Local 401 from the vantage point of an insider, however, I began to be aware of an internal logic holding these seemingly contradictory elements together.
One way in which an organization builds internal logic is through the construction of narratives that reveal the nature of the organization and the rationale behind its actions. Narratives can order and make sense of actions and events. In this chapter, I examine the stories that UFCW Local 401 has told about itself and to itself and explore how those stories set into motion a logic that propelled the local forward during the past two decades. These narratives, which provide an internal context for the local’s external behaviours, offer rich insights into the evolution of Local 401. Analyzing the narratives created and used by the local draws out insights about the union’s trajectory over the past twenty years that traditional methods of observation, which generally focus on unions’ actions, fail to capture.
THE FUNCTION OF NARRATIVE
Narratives form an integral part of how humans understand the world around them; we construct narratives to create meaning for ourselves and others. By viewing narratives as an act of construction, we can probe both the meaning of the narrative and the interests it serves (Riessman 1993, 541). Narratives weave together separate moments and occurrences into a single temporal entity with a beginning, a middle, and an end. Humans are natural storytellers, and for both the teller and the listener, the story is an accessible, comfortable, reliable way to communicate information, express feelings, and relate experiences. Narratives add significance to stories by building a coherence to the storyline. There are multiple ways to tell a story, and narratives choose particular pathways to develop a sense of meaning. As a result, narratives possess an internal logic, or consistency, that we can use to define who we are and to organize our current and future action. We tell ourselves stories, and those stories feed into larger narratives that serve an organizing function for our actions. Studying those narratives can thus reveal insights into how people understand their experiences.
Narratives differ from propaganda. Propaganda has an explicit, agenda-ridden purpose: it is consciously designed to persuade. Although narratives may reflect conscious decisions, the meanings they convey emerge organically, through the interaction of our behaviour, interests, self-perceptions, and expectations, and in ways that may be invisible to us. Narratives emerge between the lines, so to speak, often as a consequence of individual and collective action, whereas the production of propaganda is deliberate, an act of creation of which we are fully aware.
Because narrative can give coherence to events and concepts that may appear contradictory and incongruent, we often use them to help us “make sense” of what we see and do (Boje 2010). Importantly, narratives are not about replicating the world with objective accuracy. In the act of creating a narrative, the teller bridges the objective and subjective. As Riessman (2004, 708) eloquently points out,
Narratives do not mirror, they refract the past. Imagination and strategic interests influence how storytellers choose to connect events and make them meaningful for others. Narratives are useful in research precisely because storytellers interpret the past rather than reproduce it as it was. The “truths” of narrative accounts are not in their faithful representations of a past world, but in the shifting connections they forge among past, present, and future.
It is in this fluid sense of truth where we find our insights into human motivation, behaviour, and reflection. Narratives are simultaneously interpretations of our past, reflections of our present, and predictors of our future.
Not everything is a narrative, of course, and not every narrative helps us understand human behaviour. What constitutes narrative is highly context dependent. A narrative may arise from the words spoken or from the spaces in between those words; the way in which it emerges does not determine its power. The significance of a narrative, whether explicit or implicit, is revealed through an iterative process of listening, reflecting, and understanding. Identifying and contextualizing narratives must occur within the analytical process.
Because narratives are intrinsic to human interaction, they become part of the fabric of human organizations. Narratives construct, for both organizational members and outsiders, a sense of the organization’s identity and of the role of each member in the organization (Czarniawska-Joerges 2004, 3–6). Because the ways in which we explain and make sense of our own actions and experiences as individuals extend to how we explain our organizations (Boje 2001, 4–5), narratives can provide useful insights into the functioning of organizations. Narratives can build an internal logic for disparate events and concepts, weaving them together into a coherent whole. Furthermore, organizational narratives, if they are to create coherence and an internal logic, are not about fabrication or delusion; they are grounded in actual human experience and cannot stretch the bounds of credulity (Boje 2001, 6–7). But neither can we say that narratives are neutral or objective; they are susceptible to the forces of human dynamics, meaning that they are also windows into how organizations (or at least their most powerful members) wish to construct themselves.
In management and organizational studies, narrative analysis has become widely adopted as an effective tool for understanding organizations (Bryman et al. 2011, 419–20). The fact that this tool has been used less frequently in the study of unions speaks more to the prevailing mood of the discipline than it does to the viability of the method. One could argue that narratives are particularly useful for studying unions. Unions are always acting, for they are institutions of an ongoing and always evolving relationship—the relationship between employers and workers. Because of this constant motion, making sense of how one action relates to another requires creating links between them, which occurs in the act of narrative construction. The meaning of the actions—the whys and hows of strategies, decisions, and events—takes shape through storytelling. As different acts in different points of time become linked, they become imbued with logic. Over time, the logic grows and a self-identity of the union and its members forms. Narrative both creates and reflects the internal logic of the union. Through understanding that logic, we can glean greater insights into how and why unions act in the ways they do.
We must remember, however, that in unions (and organizations in general), not all actors have equal access to the tools of narrative construction. Because leaders possesses a disproportionate capacity to shape the union’s internal logic, narratives are a powerful vehicle for serving their interests. The link between narratives and internal power dynamics is critical to understanding the functions narratives play within a union. The analysis below—conducted using critical narrative analysis (CNA), as described in Appendix C—not only draws out the significance of the narratives themselves but also surfaces the power dynamics that are inherent in UFCW Local 401.
CONSTRUCTION AND REPRODUCTION OF NARRATIVES
There are only so many media available to a narrator to tell his or her story. Obviously, any time a person speaks to another person, the potential exists for the construction or reproduction of narratives. Some media are more effective than others because they reach a greater audience and/or they find the audience in a more receptive space. Before we examine Local 401’s narratives, it is important to look briefly at how they are created and maintained—at the mechanisms that are used to relay particular framings and stories to members and outsiders.
There are six primary sites of narrative construction and reproduction in Local 401. The first, and in some ways most obvious, is union literature intended for consumption by union members and/or the public, such as pamphlets, press releases, and posters. Such materials are designed to deliver clear messages and often do so in a blunt, straightforward manner, one that tends to suppress nuance. The leadership is, of course, well aware that such publications are powerful tools for image making and that they serve as tools for propaganda. Although the purpose of each pamphlet, press release, or poster is to persuade readers to act on a particular issue, taken together these items construct and reproduce a broader narrative about the local’s identity and its actions.
As one would expect, courses, workshops, and conferences put on by the union are a second important site of narrative construction. In these settings, the union’s leaders and staff have unrestricted access to a group of members for a continuous period of time. The overt goal of such sessions is the dissemination of information and training, and members often receive education that can serve them well in their workplaces and communities. But it would be naïve to think that union courses are simply a means to convey information: they are also opportunities to entrench particular union narratives. Again, the leaders of Local 401 seem quite conscious of the value of education as a means to instill attitudes that the union finds productive and also to feed a broader narrative about the union.
General meetings, ratification meetings, and other similar events constitute a third medium for narrative creation, giving leaders the opportunity to speak to members both formally and informally. Because members attend such meetings in expectation of receiving information, they are often unaware they are listening not merely to a factual report but to a narrative. Moreover, during informal exchanges after the meeting, such narratives can be elaborated and reinforced, both by leaders and by members themselves.
A fourth site of narrative production and, especially, reproduction is the relief representative system described in chapter 1, which the union uses to groom potential staffers. Not only are relief reps explicitly trained to take part in the internal processes of the union, such as grievance procedures and collective bargaining, but they are implicitly taught how to talk about union matters. They are narrators-in-training. Those who embrace the reigning narratives are more likely to be hired, as this will ensure a more consistent delivery of messages by the staff. The relief rep system thus serves to reinforce an homogeneous perspective. By allowing only those who adopt the accepted narratives to assume positions of power, it prevents alternative narratives from infiltrating the local.
A fifth element in the dissemination of narratives is the union’s organizational culture, as it emerges not merely in words but, especially, in modes of behaviour. Local 401 runs in a very relaxed manner. In meetings, even formal items are treated in a casual, almost offhand manner, while informal conversation becomes a key medium for the sharing of information and the circulation of narratives. The union offices are equally relaxed and welcoming. This atmosphere itself tells a story about the union, one that can be all the more powerful because it is largely nonverbal. Actions do speak louder than words, and union members constantly, and often unwittingly, absorb messages about the values central to the union through the behaviour of its staff.
Finally, the style of leadership characteristic of an organization is at once a source and a reflection of the narratives that define that organization. As a leader, O’Halloran’s style is bold and in many ways domineering. He leaves no doubt about who is in charge, and his words and actions communicate a clear message to members about what leadership is and how power operates. In this respect, he embodies a narrative about UFCW Local 401, namely, that this is a union that means business and is not afraid to express its opinions or take action. This narrative in turn acquires a prescriptive element, in that O’Halloran, as well as the local’s other leaders, must behave in ways that align with this narrative and thereby constantly reinforce it. In short, many of the stories that the union tells about itself are given concrete shape in the figure of O’Halloran himself.
These six narrative vehicles interact to create an effective system for constructing and relaying narratives about Local 401 and its membership. We can analyze the messages delivered through these means to identify the narrative fabric of UFCW Local 401’s identity.
LOCAL 401’S NARRATIVE FAMILIES
Over months of observation and analysis, a number of core stories about UFCW Local 401 emerged. These stories interact to paint a vivid picture of the local and why it acts in the way it does. The narratives identified fell naturally into clusters, or families. Each family answers part of the question “What is Local 401?” but each one comes at it from a different perspective and addresses a particular component of Local 401’s self-identity. The narratives can be grouped into three families: internal narratives, which explain the internal life of the local; external narratives, which tell the story of how Local 401 presents itself to others; and member narratives, which reveal who the members are and what the leadership’s role is in the union. Each of these families contains two or three “member” narratives. Since a narrative can serve multiple functions, the various member narratives and their families overlap, but for ease of presentation, the discussion that follows will focus on the primary purpose of each narrative family and its members.
Internal Narratives
Three different narratives reveal the local’s manner of operation and internal principles. These narratives are central to understanding the internal dynamics of Local 401 and feed into and reflect the leaders’ and members’ sense of how the union operates. These narratives present Local 401 as a member-driven union, a diverse and inclusive union, and a family-like union.
A Member-Driven Union. There is a strong sense in Local 401, despite its centralized authority and hierarchical structures, that the actions taken and the decisions made by the leadership are driven, in some fashion, by the membership. “The bottom line’s the members,” asserted O’Halloran. “If they turn against you, you’re fucked. It doesn’t matter if you are doing a good job or a bad job or whatever. If they lose faith, you know, you’re done.” This is a narrative that is even told by those outside the local: “What makes Doug the best president is he is all about the members. . . . Member driven, everything is membership driven” (KO, 38). This focus on being motivated by members’ interests was noted by Hesse as a key factor in the union’s ability to mobilize and organize its workers, as during the Superstore dispute:
As much as some other unions might say we are top-down, wasn’t it fascinating that when it came time to take out nine thousand new Canadians, the majority of them women who had never been on strike in their life, . . . they all got out on the picket line. So if we were so top-down and the decisions were contrived . . . and only belonged to the leadership, disconnected from the members, then how does that happen? . . . Because there was nine thousand leaders on the picket line, not just Doug O’Halloran.
A nuance in this narrative is that the union is seen as being driven by the members’ interests, not necessarily by the members themselves. The leaders still maintain a strong authority to act, but the members have a high degree of faith that they will do so with the members’ interests at the centre of their actions.
A Diverse and Inclusive Union. The local’s leadership and staff boast about being the most diverse local in Alberta in terms of age, gender, and race and ethnicity. Its internal communications—whether new member orientations, posters, or conference brochures—play up the diversity of the membership with multicultural photos that emphasize young female workers of colour. Headlines and slogans stress the membership’s diversity: examples include “Many Faces, One Voice” (Lakeside pamphlet) and “Bargaining Strong Together” (Superstore strike slogan). The union is portrayed as a welcoming, inclusive place where race and gender are not sources of conflict:
There was no racism on the [Lakeside] picket line. Everybody was a union member, everybody helped one another, so it wasn’t an issue. And we didn’t want it to become a race issue. It might’ve been a race issue in Brooks, but it was not a race issue in the plant. So we downplayed that, and it was good. (O’Halloran, ALHI interview, 2005)
In the union it has all been positive. But I mean, there is definitely prejudice out there. Even at work when we have been in meetings with our management, we were told as soon as we left the room, our head manager said, “Are all lesbians that aggressive?” . . . [But in the union] you could tell they are very focused on human rights . . . They included it and it was fought for, but they want diversity in everything, they definitely are supporting it. (member, 36)
This narrative contains a claim of “colour-blindness” (and gender- and age-blindness), an assertion that these are simply not issues in the local. While the leaders acknowledge that they need to do more around engaging so-called minority members, they argue that the challenge is one of finding the right strategies rather than making the union environment respectful, welcoming, and inclusive, which it already is.
The Union as Family. The metaphor of Local 401 as a family recurred time and again in interviews of both members and leaders:
I can do anything for union because my soul is with them. I am closer with them than my family. (member, 17)
I always say we are the happiest dysfunctional work family ever created. (staff, 2)
Once you have gone into that [become active in the local] you’ve essentially married into the union. . . . Because once you become a part of it, it’s your family. (member, 16)
This narrative suggests that the relationships within Local 401 transcend traditional union relations. The metaphor of family implies loyalty, mutuality, love, commitment, and long-term relationships.
The concept of family also evokes a parental relationship, and this was referenced in interviews as well. In particular, O’Halloran was spoken of as a father figure for the union.
He is like a dad. For me he is like a dad that—you’re supposed to do this but at the same time he is trying to discipline you—this kind of thing. I see him like that. (member, 1)
I think it is like a relationship between family members. Parents and children. (KO, 20)
We run to the union for help, this man [O’Halloran] is like a father to us, he is a father to us, now who are we going to run to? (Lakeside striker quoted in McGinnis 2005, B1)
The metaphor of father gives O’Halloran authority and status within the union and implies that he is both responsible for the members and “in charge” of them.
External Narratives
The second family of narratives explains how Local 401 is positioned vis-à-vis other unions. The narratives describe what sets Local 401 apart from other unions: it is a militant union that will organize anyone; it is a union whose leaders are principled “truth-tellers”; and it is more effective, innovative, and assertive than other unions.
A Militant Union. Local 401 has a well-developed narrative as a militant union willing to organize any workers who want a union, regardless of how hard the fight. The idea of being willing to take on a fight appears in most of the union’s internal communications. In the local’s magazine for members, for example, Chris O’Halloran (2013, 16) expresses this stance: “UFCW Local 401 has never backed down from a fight and stands by workers who seek to improve working conditions for themselves and their co-workers.” The sense of strength and refusal to back away from a fight applies to both organizing new members and dealing with employers.
In interviews, members expressed pride at being part of a strong union. “It really is a no guff union. They are not going to lie down. They are willing to do whatever it takes to get what the workers are expecting” (member, 36). Even critical outsiders acknowledged that Local 401’s actions make it “militant” (KO, 13).
The local’s narrative arc includes a tendency to talk big about settlements. O’Halloran at one point referred to a recent contract as a “Cadillac agreement.” Hesse went further:
I can show you the best retail food collective agreement in North America at Loblaws. We have it. I can show you contract language that does not exist in collective agreements where people have all sorts of bargaining power, full-time, skilled workers. I can show you language that focuses on social justice issues, stuff we didn’t have to bargain, stuff we chose to bargain. . . . I can bring you a bunch of collective agreements and show you the kind of unique things that we pursue.
The members’ magazine boasts of a contract that “set a higher standard for all retail workers across the province” (McMeckan and Hesse 2014, 12). Getting results is the narrative flipside to fighting tough battles and is part of framing Local 401 as a militant union.
A Principled Union. Local 401 couches its actions under the guise of principles and a willingness to speak truth to power. Its outspokenness relates to its aggressive, provocative approach to labour disputes, and its principles provide a rationale for decisions. The principles are expressed somewhat vaguely, suggesting some sense of commitment to working people. As O’Halloran asserted, “The union should always be there with morals and principles to do the job for the underdog.” There is a proud awareness that the local rubs employers the wrong way. A staffer described the general tone of Local 401 negotiations: “No employer is going to sit there and say that we had a nice conversation with a 401 union rep and we got to an agreement on something. No. Somebody said something offensive, somebody called you names. . . . If you are not willing to stand and fight, you are not working for us” (staff, 24). For those involved in the local, the willingness to be outspoken and aggressive is linked to the notion of acting on higher principles.
A Union Unlike Others. Local 401 supplements the storylines above with one of standing apart from other unions by doing more, a sense of superiority that comes from being militant and principled.
It is always 401 that steps up to the plate. Not a whole bunch of unions out there are putting their hands up first, you know what I am saying? (McLaren)
To me that is what sets us apart from some of the others. I mean, Doug is a smart man. He can look at a situation and realize, yeah, this isn’t going to be good. But he is still willing to take them on because it is the right thing to do. (staff, 9)
[We are] probably one of the most active locals in Alberta, if not the most active local. Bar none. Probably one of the most active locals in Canada. (member, 6)
Accompanying this sense of superiority is a belief that many unions dislike Local 401 because of their “out there” approach:
There are certainly unions out there that don’t like us. We’re too aggressive, maybe we’re a little too forward thinking or we’re sticking our nose where it doesn’t belong. And I think there’re other unions out there [that] have very high praise for us. (member, 6)
I would probably say, whether they like us or not, they would have to say that, like Star Trek, we have gone where no man has gone before. And I think we are admired for that, possibly resented in some cases. (McLaren)
Part of this narrative of standing apart is that the opinions of others don’t matter because any criticism comes from a resentment of Local 401’s achievements. The pride in being militant is complemented with a sense of “us against the world,” which strengthens internal unity.
Member Narratives
Four narratives create a self-identity for Local 401 members and leaders. The first is that Local 401 represents members who are difficult to mobilize, are somewhat passive, and are looking for a strong leader. Second, Local 401 leaders are very accessible and down-to-earth. Third, the leaders are also strong, and they actively advance their members’ interests. And finally, the external forces battling the local are increasingly aggressive, which necessitates fast-acting, centralized, strong leadership.
Local 401 Members. Local 401 members are portrayed in the local’s narratives as multifaceted and as a relatively challenging group to represent. They are passive, marginalized, and hard to mobilize; they prioritize results over process and trust the leadership to do the right thing. These qualities, according to the narrative, relate to the nature of members’ jobs—part-time; short-term; low-wage, necessitating working multiple jobs—and to characteristics of the workers themselves—young, new to the country, relatively less educated. This portrait of the membership is exemplified in the following comments:
The makeup of our membership is lots of part-time, lots of vulnerable people, because there’s new Canadians, lots of young workers, very high female percentage of the workforce as well. I mean these are all groups of people who have historically, in the workforce, been underrepresented and been marginalized and not been given their due. . . . They’re scared to speak up, so they tend not to get their issues addressed. (staff, 2)
[It’s] where East Indian ladies come from. Not educated family, not broad family. Far away, farmer’s people mostly you see here. . . . First off, we have fear in the family. Ladies, girls, have no right to say anything. They can’t go out, you won’t see them drink in the bar with husband. (member, 17)
It’s just hard to get young people involved. Young people just quit, most young people quit. (member, 16)
Embedded within this narrative is a message that it is more difficult to engage a membership with these characteristics, so although the union wants to get them involved, there is only so much they can do.
The second aspect of the narrative fills the void created by the lack of activism among members. Members want the leadership to take an active role in representing their interests. As Hesse put it:
When you have part-time workers, you may end up with a structure that, in order to give them meaningful representation, you are going to have to make some decisions that they neither have the time nor the interest in making themselves. . . . I think the member cares about the product. . . . The value of a union to them [is] in two things: What does our collective agreement say? What rights do I have, what wage do I make, what benefits do I have, and does my union enforce it? Are they visible and do they enforce it? That is what people care about. (Hesse)
A picture is thus created of the local responding to the characteristics of its members and what they want.
Accessible Leadership. O’Halloran’s leadership style can be described as informal, relaxed, accessible, and responsive to the membership, while also firm and in control. Members interviewed for the project said they could call O’Halloran directly with their concerns and that they felt comfortable talking to him:
He is very down to earth, and he treats us all on an equal level. It doesn’t matter what your job description is—as a member there are no levels. I mean somebody may be a plant manager and there may be someone who is a casual maintenance worker, and he’ll talk to both at the same level and the same time and give you the same consideration. I also like the fact that he is strong and won’t be pushed around, and he lets your company know that, yeah, these people are members of my union and we will protect them. So I have always felt comfortable around Doug and Theresa. (member, 36)
These comments also hint at the other side of O’Halloran’s style as a leader. Although he was friendly and approachable, he was also tough, and, despite his egalitarian spirit, he was willing to take charge. As Theresa McLaren put it:
I think because he has never been sitting up here [in the office], he’s always been accessible to the members. . . . He likes to joke around with members. He doesn’t bullshit them. He will tell them the hard fast truth if he has to. But he is also very caring. I think it just comes out. (McLaren)
The narrative arc suggests that this accessibility has influenced the local in two ways: members have developed a high degree of trust in the centralized authority of the president, and an informal feedback loop has evolved that, as a mechanism of accountability, seems to carry greater weight than the formal structures laid down by bylaws.
Strong Leadership. Similarly, the local has developed a narrative of strong leaders actively “taking care” of their members, aggressively pursuing issues on behalf of their members, and making decisions in members’ best interests. The leaders’ virtues include taking action when necessary, sometimes without consultation but always with a clear vision and motivation. Proof that the leaders are doing the right thing rests in the outcomes they achieve. Do they bargain good agreements? Are they successful in certifying? This narrative also points to members’ faith and trust in the leadership as evidence that the leadership is performing its role appropriately. And that trust is based upon getting results: “You can place your trust in the union because they can make things happen” (member, 29). This narrative intertwines closely with the accessible leadership storyline.
External Forces. The nature of forces that impose pressure on the local from outside—such as corporations, capitalism, and globalization—figure large in Local 401’s self-narratives. These external forces justify many of its actions and approaches because of the necessity of dealing with large players who have become increasingly aggressive in the past two decades. Staff and leaders view the growing aggressiveness in the local’s communications as paralleling the aggressiveness of employers. Their narratives about their internal processes, like acting quickly through centralized decision-making, are linked to necessities imposed by external forces. In general, their approach of strong, centralized leadership is portrayed as both necessary and, if not virtuous, at least responsive to reality. Hesse said it most clearly:
Employers are at you quickly [snaps fingers]. They move hundreds of millions of dollars around and make quick business decisions. And you’ve got to be able to turn on a dime. Do you call a union meeting every single time you need a decision on a grievance? . . . CUPE’s structure, as it is presented, is much more democratic than ours. Little local unions, lots of local autonomy, the president works in the plant. And some members say to me that was really nice in fairytale times, really nice. But I don’t want to count on a coworker to represent me now when labour relations are more complicated. They got an MBA and four lawyers. I don’t want that anymore. . . . You need money and resources to take on capital now. In an ideal world, if there is ten plants you should have ten locals, each with a working president from the plant, fifty shop stewards, 100 percent turnout at union meetings. In this sociopolitical and economic context? Right! You could look at 401 and say, oh my god, they are top-down. And you can try to hang on to that model and watch yourself die.
This narrative has two implications. First, it places a limitation on what is possible. Greater internal democracy is desirable but not feasible because of the nature of capitalism. Second, it marks Local 401 as forward-thinking and proactive. The leaders recognize the threats to the union, and rather than hang onto the past, they are responding to new realities—and the implication is that the local is surviving and thriving as a result.
MEMBERS’ RECEPTION OF LEADERS’ NARRATIVES
Before discussing the role of these narratives in the life of Local 401, it is important to establish to what extent the members embrace and internalize the framings created by the leadership. How much do they share these perspectives and participate in maintaining and reproducing them? For the narratives to play a part in shaping the actions of the union, the membership must see them as legitimate and reflective of their personal experiences.
In general, I found a high degree of buy-in by members, as was evident by the similarity in language, including the common usage of specific terms across the members interviewed and consulted. This noticeable consistency in framing is a central feature of Local 401. Particularly pronounced was the shared language around external narratives. The use of the word aggressive and its synonyms in describing Local 401 was almost universal among members, regardless of their background or experience with the local. Even new members who had had little interaction with the leaders adopted this frame. Most participants also expressed a sense that Local 401 was in some way different from other unions. Often, this difference was related very specifically: the union had more internal cohesiveness or was more member-driven or more willing to fight. One comment offers an interesting perspective: “Sometimes [unions] lose track a little bit but then they gotta pull themselves back on track. And during that time they’re off, it can cause some harm. I’ve never really seen, at least not in my twenty-five years, I’ve never seen 401 off-track” (member, 6). Sometimes this sentiment was relayed in more general terms. One member, for example, could not pinpoint what made Local 401 different, but expressed that somehow Local 401 is more responsive, more active, more aggressive: “Local 401 is the one that stands beside us, is the most, that will take them [our issues] on compared to other locals” (member, 7). Taken together, members’ comments implied a sense of pride that Local 401 does its job better than other unions.
Similarly, internal and member narratives associated with how responsive the union is to members were widely adopted. Members felt that the leaders were both strong and accessible and that they were listening to the membership. Almost all participants agreed with the sentiment that they could “pick up that phone and reach the president” (member, 23).
Not all narratives, however, were reproduced so universally. Members were less likely to accept the leadership’s framing of the necessity of and value in strong, centralized leadership. More than one member interviewed expressed concern about O’Halloran’s “dictatorial” tendencies. But even people expressing concern about his tight control tempered it with a vague sense that someone needs to be “in charge.” At times, the concern about the centralized control in the local surfaced as expressions of frustration at how the leadership uses activists. “It was sort of like being a chess piece in a game,” said one member. “So I would show up and sometimes they would say, okay, today you’re going to be getting pictures done for posters. And I didn’t object to any of it. I knew full well what was going on. But sometimes it kind of felt like the strings on my hand were getting pulled this way and that” (member, 3).
The other narrative that was somewhat contested was about who the members are. While members seemed to agree that their background and labour market positions make them harder to organize, they diverged somewhat from the official perspective. Some members were less likely than the local’s leaders to interpret the lack of activism as an implied desire for the leadership to do it for them. More commonly, members saw the difficulty in mobilizing as a challenge for the union, which needed to do more educating of members and put more effort into bringing the inactive workers around: “People need to be encouraged. Shop stewards, we have to be out speaking, encouraging our members. When someone says why that is not happening, I teach them that we have the meetings, and it is good for them to come to the meeting and air also your concerns” (member, 14). Apathy and lack of involvement is not seen as a justification for centralized authority but as a reason for putting more effort into fostering activism.
Despite these two exceptions, the self-identity constructed within Local 401 is widely accepted by the local’s members. They appear to have internalized much of the framing that is generated through the various vehicles of leadership-member interactions. These findings suggest that the narratives identified in the analysis are effective in organizing experiences and events in the local. It lends weight to the conclusion that the narratives play a key role in understanding why Local 401 took the actions it did over the past twenty years.
THE ROLE OF NARRATIVES IN UFCW LOCAL 401
In addition to describing Local 401’s narratives and the internal logic they create, we need to ask what purpose they serve within the local. Whose interests are served? How do the narratives support the power dynamics in the local? An exploration of these questions yields deeper insight into the function of narratives and how, within Local 401, they bolster the existing power regime within the union. It also helps to explain the transformation that occurred over the past two decades.
The narratives told by the local’s members and leaders help make sense of Local 401’s actions and evolution in three ways. First, they build legitimacy for and create a sense of normalcy in the unique leadership structures and behaviours in the local. Second, they help create unity and decrease dissent within the local. Third, they create a framework for managing change while simultaneously strengthening stability within the local.
Creating Legitimacy and Normalcy
One of the primary purposes of narratives in Local 401 is to build legitimacy around and normalize the decision-making structures and leadership style of the local. The narratives lead to this outcome in several ways. First, they divert members’ (and others’) attention from the formal aspects of the local’s structure and its firm-handed, top-down design by implying that formal structure matters less than other aspects of leadership—in particular, being down-to-earth, accessible, and responsive. When one accepts this framing, it doesn’t matter that O’Halloran was originally appointed to his position by UFCW Canada, nor is it important that he possesses an inordinate amount of authority in the local. The narrative shows him to be populist, accessible, and caring. His credibility rests not in his formal authority but in his decades-long practice of being “out and about” with his members. Furthermore, the emphasis on his informal accessibility dampens potential for the nondemocratic features of the local’s structures to create a serious challenge to his presidency.
More than that, the centralized style exhibited by the leadership team is turned by the narratives into a point of strength for the local rather than a point of critique. The phrase “Doug’s local” is expressed both as reality and as shorthand for the union being strong, clear, and focused. It’s okay for Local 401 to be “Doug’s local” because Doug is popular, accessible, and perceived to be responsive to the members. Democratic engagement, transparency, or respect for minority opinion cease to be measures of good leadership, replaced by an ability to take on the employer on behalf of members. Militancy becomes both an active tendency and a signpost for good leadership. Paired with the “fighting union” narrative is the “principled union” narrative, which, post hoc, promotes the militant actions as serving a higher interest. Within the narrative logic, the union’s actions are not acts of self-preservation or self-interest; they are done in the name of a loosely defined higher principle.
By any objective measure, the difficult struggles taken on by Local 401 in recent years would be considered admirable, and they clearly do point to a commitment to defending the rights of workers. The narratives are not problematic in that respect. But they do serve the leaders’ interests when they legitimize their actions in a manner that papers over other, more concerning aspects of their leadership. The lack of mechanisms for dissent and member engagement in key decisions and the weak accountability frameworks fall out of focus under the bright lights of what is perceived as strong, principled leadership.
The danger for the leadership team in emphasizing the fighting spirit and principles of the local is that if the leaders fail to deliver, they risk undermining their primary source of legitimacy. If they lose an organizing drive or sign a substandard collective agreement, the threads of the narrative start to fray—thus their tendency to oversell their accomplishments. The message to members is not “We have a good contract”; it is “We have the best contracts in this province, we have the best Loblaws contract in Canada, we have the best Safeway contract in Canada” (staff, 24). With members’ general inability to confirm the accuracy of such claims, the message is not easily disproven and thus helps keep the threads intact. In this manner, the realities of bargaining (including compromise) and incomplete achievements are subsumed under chest-thumping declarations of victory, and the local ends up looking more effective than it may be in reality. Indeed, no union is ever as effective as it wishes to be.
Thus, we can see the formation of a legitimation matrix. The informality and the focus on action combine with the active effort on the part of the leadership to construct a model of leadership that emphasizes strong individuals, decisive action, and minimal collaboration, all of which are created and reinforced through an interlocking network of narratives. Each narrative prevents the others from being undermined by the niggling details of reality. The role of leadership in this matrix is to equate the traits exhibited by the leaders—strong, heroic, and principled—as desirable traits. Thus, when they act in a top-down manner, their legitimacy as leaders is, ironically, confirmed, not challenged. For example, O’Halloran’s practice of entering tough negotiations at the very end in order to be the “closer” becomes evidence of his strong leadership rather than of his usurping the role of the bargaining committee. The narratives carve out the space the leadership needs to maintain its legitimacy and credibility while acting as it has for decades.
Two final pieces complete the legitimation matrix. Sketching a picture of a passive, difficult-to-mobilize membership that wants a strong, decisive leader to act on its behalf further supports Local 401’s current structures and allows for less emphasis on member mobilization and member-based decision making. Furthermore, the argument that the growing power of external forces renders a less centralized process ineffective (or impossible) closes off the possibility for an alternative model for the local. Not only are the leaders doing their job for the members, but they would be placing the local at risk by decentralizing authority and allowing more rank-and-file input into key decisions.
Maintaining a stable, centralized leadership in a democratic organization during volatile times requires that a number of pieces fit into place. In the case of Local 401, the narratives play their role well by narrowing the range of possibilities, emphasizing certain criteria over others, and ensuring that characteristics and behaviours that could be seen negatively are marked as positive by the membership. No one could survive twenty-five years as a union leader—especially as a centralized, controlling one—without finding a way to earn and maintain legitimacy. The internal logic within Local 401 plays a large role in sustaining that legitimacy on behalf of the existing leadership of the local.
Building Unity and Reducing Dissent
The second function of the narratives and the internal logic they create relates to increasing the level of solidarity and unity within the union and, concomitantly, decreasing expressed dissent. Various narratives feed into a process that connects members with the union, creates a sense of belonging and common cause, and motivates acts of solidarity. The flipside of this is that many of these narratives also restrict opportunity for dissent and open debate within the union. The framing of Local 401 as a close-knit family is the most explicit of the unifying narratives. Members are given a sense that they belong to something bigger than a collection of workplaces, that when they come together in the union, they are connected in some higher fashion. A sense of family invokes loyalty, as well as a notion of “fatherliness.”
Both feeding into and fed by the family narrative is the informal nature of accountability within the local. When members believe they can address issues directly with the leadership, this leads to a sense of personal engagement. However, it is a double-edged sword, for while it may engender trust and connection, it also individualizes dissent. Members are encouraged to raise matters one-on-one with the leaders. This approach has the potential of preventing spaces for collective expression of disagreement or concern. It reduces the opportunities for open debate, where dissent can be observed by others. The formulaic, almost flippant manner in which the general membership meetings are run is indicative of this dynamic. The local’s leadership style fosters unity and a sense of organic familiarity, but it also quietly closes off avenues of public debate and discussion. The ramifications of this closure cannot be understated. Even in democratic organizations, the temptation exists to confuse dissent with disloyalty and to give greater priority to consensus than to the value of free debate. The narratives employed in Local 401 exacerbate these tendencies and risk forfeiting the vibrancy and resilience that can come from open debate.
The unity created by internal narratives is bolstered by the storyline that Local 401 is different from other unions and that many unions are jealous of the local’s achievements. First, it creates a sense of us versus them, which is always an effective tool for engendering internal unity and discouraging dissent. Second, the narrative inoculates members against internalizing any of the criticism they hear. The “different than others” narrative creates an automated response: those others are envious or do not understand how 401 works. This response makes it less likely that members may seriously reflect upon the nature of the criticisms and raise uncomfortable questions internally.
The storyline of being a diverse and inclusive union creates a particularly interesting dynamic, with a twofold outcome. First, through direct observation, I can confirm that it does create an environment in which everyone is welcomed and respected. The creation of such an atmosphere is bound to instill loyalty among members of minority groups and create a sense of solidarity between groups. However, the way in which the narrative is constructed—that Local 401 is “blind” to race, gender, and so on—also serves to limit the story to easier aspects of accommodating diversity. It becomes an easy way to “whitewash” more challenging issues related to race, gender, and age, such as power inequities and the entrenchment of particular intergroup relations. In this way, paradoxically, the narratives embrace diverse identities while simultaneously sidelining them. Other identities are rendered secondary to the “UFCW Local 401” union identity, a prioritization internalized by members themselves. This particular vein of the narrative network is not so much about diminishing dissent as it is about maintaining existing power relations within the union. Fully embracing diversity would require asking serious questions about how the union is run, who runs it, and how people may be differentially included in its locus of power. Those questions point to the leadership structures themselves and could cause the entire power dynamic to unravel. Thus, diversity is a force that must be contained, and the narratives of inclusivity, family, and unity help keep it in a narrow box.
Striving to achieve unity is a difficult tightrope for unions to walk. Solidarity, a core union principle, is created through building a sense of belonging, mutuality, and common interest. Unity lies at the core of that process and is a precursor to solidarity. However, nurturing unity can also lead unions to see dissent, disagreement, and internal debate as a threat. Too many identities and perspectives muddy the effort to create a single goal upon which to build solidarity. The case of Local 401 shows us two sides of the narrative coin: storylines can both foster unity and discourage disagreement and dissent.
Frameworks for Managing Change
Local 401 narratives also serve to create a set of frameworks that facilitate leadership-managed change. The internal logic that develops from these narratives has led to a pattern of organizational innovation and to an institutional environment which facilitates that innovation. However, it is very much a leadership-directed form of innovation, occurring when and how the leadership determines, meaning that the frameworks also serve to strengthen stability for the leadership.
While Local 401 has adopted centralized authority and top-down decision-making, certain narratives require the leadership to use that authority actively, responsively, and militantly. In short, the leadership must deliver, or at least be seen to be delivering. The need to maintain an appearance of accomplishment creates a dynamic in which the leaders are constantly looking for new ways to improve their performance. Interacting with this motivation are the structural particularities of Local 401 that lower barriers to achieving innovation.
Of particular importance here are the frames related to strong, responsive, and accessible leadership and a militant, principled, and member-driven union. While they work to legitimize many aspects of the local’s top-down structures and processes, they also create an expectation that the leadership’s actions will be consistent with the narratives. While narratives are not deterministic, their ability to organize experience into coherent stories will shape how the leaders themselves interpret a given situation. Local 401’s particular matrix of narratives fosters a tendency to try new things, be on the lookout for new organizing opportunities, and take tough stances against employers. The union’s track record of change is, in part, a by-product of its construction of narratives. In addition, the local’s strong centralized control permits change to happen at a pace and in a manner that does not destabilize the organization. In short, the leaders must act, but they have great latitude in ascertaining when and how to do so.
It may be the combination of change and stability, both motivated by narrative, that has created the unique dynamics observed in Local 401. This combination, which has the potential to create tension and fracture, has instead created sustainable change within the status quo, at least during the two decades examined here.
NARRATIVE INFLUENCE: POSITIVE OR NEGATIVE?
As we have seen, narratives appear to both reflect and influence dynamics within Local 401. They serve the interests of the powerful within the union to maintain legitimacy, stability, and the status quo. This outcome can raise questions about what happens to other perspectives, such as those coming from individuals or groups who hold dissenting opinions or who offer alternative ways to run the union. An outsider to the local may find it difficult to justify narratives that squelch internal democracy, entrench highly centralized authority, and encourage notions of leadership residing in one strong (male) individual. At the same time, however, narratives also impose a logic upon the powerful that restricts their available options. They are, of course, better positioned than others to create and amend the narratives, but that can be difficult to do if the existing narratives are effective at stabilizing power relations. The end result is a complex matrix of narrative consequences.
The question of whether, on the whole, narratives have a positive or negative impact is complicated by the fact that answers to that question will vary depending upon the perspective one takes. Is organizing the unorganized a union’s most important function? Should unions have a vibrant internal democracy with mobilized activists? Is the purpose of unions to promote class consciousness? What one sees as the most appropriate or valuable goals of union action will colour one’s judgment of these narratives. While I was in the process of analyzing the narratives that dominate Local 401, I discussed preliminary findings with friends. When I described how certain narratives work to create unity, one friend, looking at the case from a psychological perspective, was impressed by how effectively these narratives fostered feelings of inclusion, acceptance, and belonging, which he felt would be beneficial for the members and make for a stronger organization. Another friend, who came from a union activist background, was appalled at what she perceived as the union leaders’ manipulation of members to advance their own self-interest. The narratives and their effects did not change; what differed was the perspectives of the judges.
Whether for better or for worse, however, narratives have undeniably played a key role in shaping the trajectory of UFCW Local 401 over the past two decades. The leadership, like any powerful group, has taken advantage of narratives to create and maintain legitimacy and unity within the union. The narratives have also created a particular logic that has propelled the local toward certain decisions and actions and facilitated and directed change. What seems, from the outside, to be an apparently contradictory set of patterns in Local 401’s behaviour and history gains coherence through an analysis of the narratives constructed and reproduced within the local.
Of course, narratives do not explain everything. Yet by studying action and structure alone, we risk missing important aspects of union life. By bringing in narratives and the internal logics and identities they create, we can start to see inside the processes that led to the outward actions. The leaders of Local 401 were acting consistently, based on the sense they had made of their experiences. Furthermore, the narratives that were constructed had the effect, intentionally or not, of shaping the power dynamics within the local, creating legitimacy for the leadership while at the same time compelling them to act in ways consistent with the stories they were telling. And thus we begin to see the why behind the what.
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