Feb 202012
 

I remember, whilst living in Spain, working as a language-learning provider for a car components manufacturer.  Their job it was to build the plastic linings of car roofs and doors; car and coach seats; and a multitude of other items.

Their customers were companies like Mercedes and Renault.  The factories in the group we supplied the language services for were never larger than about 250 workers – and specific to each customer.  The machines they used and the methods of working they employed were imposed by the customers too.  The relationship was close, claustrophobic, hard-bitten – but relatively long-term.  The latter factor was therefore the upside which supposedly helped justify all the other pretty hard-to-live-with downsides.

I also remember my students telling me how they had to work till eight in the evening, designing and redesigning industrial objects of art; and this extra time was never paid as overtime.  They were glad of their jobs – and complied with the unspoken requirements.  Even though theirs, in the main, were not executive responsibilities.  Clocking on in the morning was one of their primary duties; it was just the clocking-off in the evening at any time possible to predict that they were allowed to forgo.

Their philosophy of working was called total quality management – or TQM for short.  In their particular version of TQM, they had a decalogue – a kind of industrial Ten Commandments – which the workers in each factory had created for themselves.  The first item on the list was common across the group: “The customer is king.”  But theirs was not the baleful appeal to external pressures designed to make workers work harder in the absence of effective people managers; the con, that is, which is competition.  No.  When they said the customer was king, this was on the understanding that everyone in a company was both customer and supplier at different moments in the processes that led to external customers being supplied with their products and services.

For example, if my boss required a report of me by Friday and promised me data to complete it by Thursday, the report made me the supplier and my boss the customer and the data made me the customer and my boss the supplier.  The beauty of such a philosophy was that good person management – at least in theory – became par for the industrial course.

In reality, I am pretty sure that in very few places in our latterday capitalism is such a circular paradise of rights and responsibilities properly and pleasingly implemented.  Competition is more often than not used – by those who appeal to its supposed virtues – to supplement the insufficient abilities of the managerial class to effectively and humanely carry out their day-to-day responsibilities.

So when ideologues ask for more competition in public services, they should be encouraged to explain why better management wouldn’t – in itself – work just as well.  That is to say, the application of a similarly circular form of TQM as described and experienced above.

For it’s not fear on which we should be building the foundations of this 21st century but trust, respect and professionalism.

It’s not the indignity and pain of losing one’s job that should be used to drive us but our pride in doing everything we do as well as we can.

So where – and when – did we begin to get it all so wrong?

Jan 302012
 

On Saturday I argued:

I do wonder if the crisis isn’t rather more profound, mind.  What if the deficit isn’t really financial?  I mean obviously there’s a shortage of political will to spend our way out of encroaching crisis, as perhaps we have preferred to do so on previous occasions – but, in reality, perhaps the problem is actually that we simply no longer have enough jobs to go around.  No mystery here – nor a particularly perceptive remark.  But, nevertheless, maybe – in the circumstances – worth revisiting.  As the past century progressed, automation struck in more and more professions: we now learn by ourselves; medicate ourselves; bank by ourselves; book our holidays by ourselves; even get to the point where we contemplate the possibility of legally representing ourselves.  And maybe – just maybe – all the aforementioned just goes to show that the balance generated by our economic structures between jobs and consumers is suddenly and irrevocably tipping in favour of the latter.

That is to say, our latterday Western economies – as they are set up and structured these days (and for some reason my unpractised eye is totally unable to fathom) – require far more of us to play the role of passive consumers than that of productive workers.

Meanwhile, this terrifying paragraph (from page 31 of this TUC-discussion .pdf) (the bold is mine) only serves to confirm my unhappy and inexpert intuition:

[...] The Office for Budget Responsibility (OBR) has forecast that labour’s share of the output of the economy will have fallen by four percentage points between 2009 and 2016. On present policies and trends, it is unlikely to recover this lost ground beyond that year. As in the past, it will be those in the lower half of the pay distribution that are most likely to be bearing this fall. The gains from recovery, when it comes, are likely to continue to be unevenly divided. This means a continuation of the trend of the last 30 years, with those on middle and low incomes likely to face a continued shrinking in their combined share of the nation’s annual output. Indeed, TUC analysis has shown that the amount paid to employees in wages in 2011 was £60bn less than would have been the case had wages continued to rise at the same rate as in 1978. Our growing wage gap is significant.

All I can see, then, and for various reasons, is that the way we have engineered our economies (whether consciously or otherwise) – both in relation to the forces that operate to drive them as well as in relation to the very human instincts that underlie multiple intra- and inter-company decision-making processes – has meant everything significant in such economic activity is fully taken care of except its ability to generate sustainably plentiful and quality jobs.  The free markets do work after all – we get millions of iPads for half the price a desktop cost five years ago; business waste is eliminated year on year by good businesses using total quality management strategies; and even faraway developing countries out there get to share in some of the progress this all supposedly implies.

But jobs, quality jobs, quality work-life balances, seem to be becoming evermore distant as realistic prospects on the horizon.  In the end, we as workers are nothing more than those suppliers at the very end and bottom of the food chain that is Western civilisation.  What else could we expect now than to be squeezed forever and always?

As well as blamed for losing our jobs – when the blame clearly lies with the system, its parameters and awfully limiting ground rules.

If only we had an ISO quality mark to define the ability of a company to generate those plentiful and quality jobs I mention above.  Something we could take into account when we signed a contract or made a purchasing commitment. 

An idea, don’t you think? 

An idea at the very least.

Whether a good idea … whether sufficiently groundbreaking … well, that’s a separate matter …

Perhaps not for me to say.

What I do know, however, is that our issue most definitely isn’t with the workshy but, rather, with an economic system which designs and makes new machines far more efficiently than it does new tasks, jobs and roles.  And in the light of such a reality, there really should exist no government out there honestly able to declaim the problem lies with workforces not wanting to work. 

For it’s simply not true.  And to say otherwise is to tell monumental porkies.