Turning coffee into unions: Mathematicians and collective bargaining

Abstract

world of the ivory tower? Or can one deny the relevance of that adjunct’s working conditions because they are not working in one’s particular institution or department (yet)? This perspective reminds me of the situation in which those who want to address issues such as racism, sexism, homophobia, and transphobia in the arts, or the academy, or any number of other settings are accused of wanting to “politicize” things that were somehow beautiful and pure and blessedly unworldly. This kind of argument might be out of favor at the moment, as individuals and organizations are forced to confront one of the many truths that the Me Too Movement and Black Lives Matter have put in front of us, that the “neutral” position is one of the most politically-charged of all. But it will return, and it will find new places to deploy itself. A particular feature of this last perspective is a preservationism based on the image of a past in which the academy was a highly functional community of scholars. There are others who, while believing that there is little or nothing left of this past to preserve, nevertheless see a return to it as the ideal towards which our reformist work should be directed. But those who would live in Xanadu always imagine themselves the Khan, never a servant. I hope it is no longer controversial to point out the general idea that the “good old days” were good for very few. Even if there are aspects of how colleges and universities used to function that we would like to recapture, a naive regress, even if it were possible, would get us nowhere near where we need to be. We need a way forward that minimizes the harm done by our individual inabilities to see much beyond our own interests. To me, a promising direction is pointed to by broadly collective organizations like the UChicago Labor Council, which brings together officers, stewards, and members of various university and university-related labor unions, academic and nonacademic alike, as well as other solidary groups, including student and community organizations. The aims of the council include mutual support, knowledge-sharing, the coordination of efforts, and visibility. Particularly important is its underlying premise that there is common cause between workers of various kinds at the university and beyond, as well as those affected by its policies. I would also like to highlight the case of Rutgers University, as outlined by Todd Wolfson, president of the Rutgers AAUP-AFT Executive Council, in his recent interview [24] with Astra Taylor, where he describes an expansive and ambitious kind of coalition-building, and an organizing framework known as Bargaining for the Common Good [26]. I am very glad that this interview was published before I had completed revisions to this essay, so that I could cite it and note that Wolfson discusses many of the issues I’ve touched on here, with the concrete details of a particular multi-campus institution’s realities, making a compelling case for a broad form of solidarity within the context of academic labor organizing. In “Critical University Studies and the Crisis Consensus” [6], Abigail Boggs and Nick Mitchell point out that critics of academia of all political stripes agree that academia is in crisis (and this pre-pandemic. . . ). They say that [t]he crisis consensus is a mainstay of political ideology that functions with particular ardor in higher education, where it pivots on the invocation of the university as a good in itself, as an institution defined ultimately by the progressive nature at its core. The crisis consensus thereby settles in advance the constitutive problems and TURNING COFFEE INTO UNIONS 21 paradoxes—to say nothing of the forms of real expropriation and violence—that continue to constitute the university as such. Later, talking about the field of Critical University Studies specifically, they further point out that this work has too often made the crisis consensus normative, and that this consensus itself is “normed, often silently, by an analytical predisposition toward rescue and restoration.” There are a couple of vague thoughts I have had a for a while, which crystallized when I read their analysis. One is that this predisposition is particularly relevant to unionization because the “good old days” that many critics of present-day academic institutions long for did not have academic unions as an important constituent part, or to the extent that they did, these unions’ contributions have been largely forgotten. Unionization as a way forward may not appeal to those who would rather move back in time. Even with the best intentions, the desire to revisit a mythical past (which in reality was worse than the current moment in several aspects) can serve to bolster the status quo by undermining institutions like academic labor unions, especially in their role within a new labor movement. The other thing that particularly struck me while reading [6] is just how clearly right its perspective appears to be to the people I interact with in settings like the Labor Council and other organizations that involve people whose relationships to the university are very different from that of tenured faculty. Community organizations in particular have the memory that whatever good old days there might have been within the academy were bought at a great cost to many outside it (and, of course, to many within it). To give just one example of how this process has worked, the Reparations at UChicago Working Group (see [14]) has built a case based not only on the original founding gift to the university from capital gained at the expense of enslaved people, but also on a long history of complicity with racist practices extending well beyond its early days. Of course, it’s possible to separate an institution’s internal and external practices, faculty can be teaching responsibly even when their institution behaves irresponsibly, camels do sometimes pass through the eyes of needles, but it’s an iffy proposition. Particularly so for those who devote significant labor to institution-building, who then take on a responsibility for the actions of the institutions they help build, and deserve a real say in those actions, even outside their particular spheres. It might be a strange idea to some that helping to build up a mathematics program, say, confers both a duty and a right to play a part in determining the overall practices of the institution within which it exists, but it should be a powerfully motivating one if we are willing to engage with it seriously. One doesn’t have to agree with the specific diagnoses or demands of organizations that bring a critical eye to the practices of colleges and universities to find their perspectives important, to see the benefits of having a broader array of voices at the table, or to want to work toward a more democratic future, indeed, one in which we ourselves can have a greater say. It does require us to talk to each other, to negotiate alliances, and not to think of our institutions as the only sources 20In fact, these organizations often disagree with each other, which is of course very healthy. When these disagreements happen, however, universities often seek those whose positions are most closely aligned with institutional interests, and market their voices as the predominant “will of the people”. My point here is not that university administrations are unique in amplifying only the voices they agree with, but that on many issues, they are currently the only ones with a sufficient loud amplifier to be heard above the ambient noise. 22 DENIS R. HIRSCHFELDT of possible solutions. It also requires us to educate ourselves about organizing strategies, to understand processes like power mapping (see [18]), perhaps to put into real practice what is sometimes an empty commonplace and learn from our students. And it does raise the distinct possibility that we ourselves will be called to account for some of our own practices, will be made uncomfortable, and will not be able to remain in our carefully carved-out niches in the status quo. None of these are drawbacks. Some of what I’ve said above might sound dismal and depressing. I know there are those who see as dismal in itself any analysis of academic life that describes it as at least in part a system of power relationships. To me, it’s only the same kind of acknowledgment of reality that architects and engineers must face when building on difficult terrain. I began this essay with a sense of possibility, and I want to end that way as well. It’s not easy to keep that spirit up, particularly so at this time in which I’m writing, but I don’t think we have the option to give up. It’s once again time to do the Hokey Pokey while walking in a circle. Labor unions are a tool, not an end in themselves. They are not the only collectivities we need to build on and around campuses, and they certainly should not be a way for us to abdicate our responsibilities to an organization. As I said before, unions have suffered from many corrupting and corroding forces, and a 21st century labor movement requires constant participation and vigilance, in all directions. We need to ensure that unions work in our interest and that of the common good, and we need to fight institutional reactions, including ones deliberately designed to cause damage and blame it on unions. For instance, it is a central part of universities’ union-busting playbook to try to portray graduate student worker unions and non-tenure-track faculty unions as oppositional to tenured faculty. It is particularly important to resist this trope, which is part of the overall corporate strategy of turning workers against each other. So yes, labor unions are a tool, but they are a crucial one. We need institutions with real power, to demand and decide, not merely to request and advise, and to help set the agenda in the first place, so that our decisions are not merely symbolic. We also need