Shuttle Diplomacy

THE ON-AND-OFF SAGA of unionizing student shuttle bus drivers during the past three weeks could be mistaken for a case study from Lipsey and Steiner, the Ec 10 textbook.

That's because like Ec 10, the lesson in shuttle diplomacy ended when the principals--in this case, representatives for the drivers--finally ran out of bullshit. Explaining on Wednesday why the drivers would probably' reject the Teamsters' offer of support. Thomas E. Curtis '81, who had coordinated the second phase of the drivers' protest, revealed the key to their strategy.

"We had to give the University a full two weeks of intense bullshit before they would change the schedule," he said, adding, "Now we have a moral victory."

The drivers scored a moral victory over the University because moral victory means defeat.

The shuttle drivers won nothing of importance in their efforts to pressure the University into revising its policy. They could have succeeded, because their string of bluffs finally led them to the Teamsters. The Teamsters are not known for fooling around, and they were ready for action. But the shuttle drivers preferred building a moral victory on individual failures.

The drivers' fundamental demand was that the University recognize their right to unionize. Harvard said nothing. They asked to negotiate with the "real power" of the University instead of Buildings and Grounds. Harvard refused. The shuttle drivers asked for a permanent system of input into the schedule-making process. They got none.

The University made one change in the shuttle schedule--it lengthened the time between runs from 12 to 15 minutes. But the University would not admit that this revision resulted from drivers' demands and thus retained its autocratic control over student workers.

UNLIKE THE DRIVERS, the Teamsters organizers were not interested in three-minute adjustments. "If we came to Harvard we would be fighting for the rights of students to negotiate for conditions of their industrial existence," one official from Local 379 explained.

Unfortunately, the drivers did not seek to improve working conditions for the entire Harvard student community but merely aimed for an extra 50 cents per hour in their own pockets. The confusion which continually surrounded their efforts effectively blurred the fact that the drivers had a greater cause to fight for.

It is doubtful that the drivers ever intended to unionize. Because of several misconceptions, the drivers believed that the University would probably grant their demands before the protest reached the unionization stage. They learned that few Harvard officials back down in public. Instead, the drivers retreated from their announced positions time and time again.

Almost three weeks ago, a group of four or five drivers, headed by Michael T. Crehan '81, threatened that a majority of drivers would go on strike unless the University granted them a pay increase. The University replied that it would be prepared with alternate plans in the event of a strike.

Another faction of drivers led by Curtis, emerged saying Crehan and his following had represented their own views as those of the whole group. Several days later, a majority of the drivers voted to officially call off the threat of a strike. But the drivers also voted to unionize, preferably independently. They hinted at the possibility of joining District 65 of the United Auto Workers, which historically has enjoyed a highly antagonistic relationship with the University.

One problem, though, was that Curtis forgot to let District 65 know the drivers were intent on joining the UAW. District 65 leaders wisely chose to disassociate themselves from the case.

This was not the first time that Curtis had committed an important error of omission. Curtis criticized Crehan's strike announcement, not because it lacked driver support, but because it conflicted with his own plans. Without telling anyone, Curtis had been researching the possibility of the drivers unionizing at the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB).

"Should I have kept my mouth shut on the off chance that Tom Curtis had a secret plan for the drivers to unionize?" Crehan asked.

Finally, the drivers retreated from the Teamsters' sincere offer of support. The drivers had promised to file a petition with the NLRB for a union election if Harvard refused to recognize their right to unionize. The Teamsters realized that NLRB precedent indicated the drivers' legal case was hopeless, but they weren't prepared to give up.

"We're ready to go and shut down Harvard if we could," a Teamsters official said. "We'd love to have the drivers join us."

In effect, the Teamsters hoped to help stage an old-fashioned organization effort. There would be no NLRB to back them up. But if the shuttle drivers would strike and picket, enough support might be drawn from the community to force the University to bargain for a shuttle contract.

No real pressure was ever put on the University by the drivers because there never was any groundswell of public support. People realized that the drivers were out to butter only their own bread.

The tragedy was that, as the Teamsters knew, knew, the shuttle drivers held a perfect opportunity to fight for all students' rights. By striking, and the going to court, the drivers might have reversed NLRB precedent, that fails to grasp the realities of student employment.

The relevant NLRB case states that the board generally has not allowed students who are employed by their own schools in a capacity unrelated to their course of study to unionize, either independently, or in affiliation with outside labor units.

The Board's reasoning is easy to follow. The educational process is intensely personal. Thus, the student-teacher relationship is not at all analagous to the employee-employer relationship. Collective bargaining might infringe upon traditional academic freedoms such as free speech if allowed-to penetrate the student-teacher relationship. Therefore, in many respects, collective bargaining may be said to represent the "very antithesis of personal individualized education."

Although the NLRB decided this case in 1977, its description of the student-teacher relationship has not applied since the days when the Boylston Professor of English exercised his right to graze a cow in the Yard.

DRIVING A BUS has nothing to do with any student/teacher relationship. The shuttle drivers work for part of a vast bureaucracy which has enormous power at its disposal. Under the guise of financial assistance, Harvard possesses a captive labor force--the students. Instead of having to pay wages determined on the free market, the University can label a job as financial aid, and pay students any wage it chooses. The students, for lack of anything better or any apparent way of changing the system, must accept.

The NLRB reasoned that collective bargaining among students "would not be in the public interest." The Board really meant that unionization would force students without jobs to pay higher tuition in order to fund the increased wages of student workers. The NLRB thus subordinated the rights of student workers, who generally can least affort the cost of an education, to the rights of non-workers, who in most cases don't need the money.

The shuttle saga represented a fundamental conflict between the rich and the poor. It should come as no surprise that the rich won easily. They successfully employed the deceiving concept of the public interest--namely, that some must necessaily sacrifice in order to ensure the welfare of everyone. But who is this everyone, and why are the rich never asked to contribute to the public interest?

Although they may not have known, it the shuttle bus drivers had the opportunity to ask these questions, and possibly force Harvard into providing some honest answers. Unlike the drivers or EC 10, Harvard will never run out of bullshit.