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The prevalent legal wisdom today is
that compulsory collective bargaining through exclusive representation
is necessary in both private and public employment, because such bargaining
is the best way to achieve so-called "labor peace". As with much of the
legalistic knowledge percolating from within the Beltway and academia throughout
contemporary America, this notion—notwithstanding its widespread acceptance
among the mainstream of judges, labor lawyers, and legal commentators—is
fundamentally flawed. In private employment, the "labor-peace" theory found
perhaps its highest pseudo-scholarly apology in the famous work
by Felix Frankfurter and Nathan Greene, The Labor Injunction. Eventually,
this piece of propaganda was thoroughly debunked by Petro, but not before
it had done its damage in rationalizing the Norris-LaGuardia Act and analogous
State laws that promote and immunize union violence. And even today the
errant thesis of The Labor Injunction is accepted as gospel by most
people. In the public sector, too, the "labor-peace" theory is little more
than a legalistic smokescreen—one of those terms judges and lawyers employ
to defuse contrary argument and short-circuit critical thought. To any
careful observer, this is so obvious that the "labor-peace" theory merits
being labelled essentially fraudulent. Moreover, the responsibility for
perpetrating and perpetuating this fraud on the country lies primarily
with the Supreme Court of the United States.
I. Nowhere is the inherent fraudulence
of the "labor-peace" theory more apparent than in the Supreme Court’s devious
refusal to address—squarely and honestly—the serious constitutional issues
that compulsory public-sector collective bargaining through exclusive representation
raises. To appreciate this requires a review of the history of litigation
on that question from the 1930s, through which the legal landscape of employment
relations was so decisively altered.
In both the public and the private
sectors, contemporary collective bargaining under statutes and court decisions
differs from traditional collective bargaining under common law prior to
the 1930s, in that the latter was voluntary, whereas the former
is compulsory. Free collective bargaining involved negotiations
between willing parties on both sides: Employees freely chose unions to
bargain for them; and employers freely chose to bargain with those unions
rather than with individual employees. Except in the public sector, where
collective bargaining was generally—and quite correctly—disallowed as incompatible
with governmental sovereignty, free collective bargaining was always and
everywhere an option for employees and employers at common law. Sometimes
it proved more desirable to the parties than individual bargaining, sometimes
not. In any event, prior to the National Industrial Recovery Act in 1933,
the status of an exclusive representative empowered by law to dictate the
terms and conditions of employment for dissenting nonunion employees was
unknown in American private enterprise or in public employment. Rather,
employees’ exposure to majority rule by unions depended on voluntary association
under the principles of common-law contracts. And had the Supreme Court
not duplicitously retreated on the statutory construction it originally
employed to uphold the constitutionality of the Railway Labor and the National
Labor Relations Acts, something not very far from free collective bargaining
might have evolved under those statutes as well.
In contrast, modern compulsory collective
bargaining involves three components unknown at common law—two primarily
affecting employees; the third, employers—and all of which rely on coercion.
As to employees, the basic structural element of compulsory bargaining
is exclusive representation. The union selected by a majority of employees
in a bargaining unit becomes the exclusive representative for all
the employees for the purposes of negotiating their terms and conditions
of employment, whether they desire its services or not. For an employer
to negotiate or contract with individuals violates "the essential principle
of collective bargaining", "even though the employees consent * * * or
suggest the conduct". Under exclusive representation, "[i]ndividual contracts,
no matter what the circumstances that justify their execution or what their
terms, may not be availed of to defeat or delay the procedures prescribed"
for collective bargaining, "to forestall bargaining[,] or to limit or condition
the terms of the collective agreement". So, in stark contrast to—indeed,
in contradiction of—common-law contractual rights, exclusive representation
"extinguishes the individual’s power to order his own relations with his
employer and creates a power vested in the chosen representative", "strip[s
individual employees] of traditional forms of redress", and gives unions
"a thraldom over the men who designate [them]" by "creat[ing] rights in
[the] unions overriding those of the employees they represent".
With respect to employers, the basic
structural element of compulsory bargaining is exactly that: a legally
enforceable duty on the part of the employer to bargain with the union
over terms and conditions of employment, and not to bargain with nonunion
employees.
As known and suffered today, compulsory
collective bargaining through exclusive representation is primarily the
artifact of decisions of the Supreme Court that intentionally created the
system as it now exists or carried that system to the extreme it has assumed,
in the face of and with disregard for numerous constitutional problems.
Moreover, having itself largely created the original problem of exclusive
representation in the 1940s, the Supreme Court has in more recent years
studiously attempted to avoid not only facing up to the deleterious consequences
of its own actions, but even telling the truth about how its own decisions
brought the country to this pass.
Although ideologically the story has
much earlier roots, the consequential, if convoluted, legal history begins
in 1993 with the National Industrial Recovery Act (NIRA). The NIRA authorized
private "trade or industrial associations or groups" to apply to the President
of the United States for approval of "codes of fair competition for [their]
trade or industry", made these codes "the standards of fair competition
for [each] such trade or industry" upon the President’s authorization,
and imposed sanctions on violators. The statute also required "[e]very
code of fair competition" to contain provisions for organization of unions
and collective bargaining within the particular trade or industry, and
gave "the standards established in [collective-bargaining] agreements *
* * the same effect as a code of fair competition". The sole substantive
requirement on the private "associations or groups" privileged to act as
exclusive representatives of their respective trades or industries was
that they "impose no inequitable restrictions on * * * membership * * *
and are truly representative of such trades or industries". This was similar
to the so-called "duty of fair representation" that the Supreme Court later
imposed on unions acting as exclusive representatives under the Railway
Labor and National Labor Relations Acts.
In A.L.A. Schechter Poultry Corp.
v. United States, the Supreme Court unanimously declared the NIRA
an unconstitutional delegation of legislative power to private parties.
To the government’s argument that the codes were valid because they "consist
of rules of competition deemed fair for each industry by representative
members of that industry * * * most vitally concerned and most familiar
with its problems", the Court retorted:
[W]ould it be seriously contended
that Congress could delegate its legislative authority to trade or industrial
associations or groups so as to empower them to enact the laws they deem
to be wise and beneficent for * * * their trades or industries? Could trade
or industrial associations or groups be constituted legislative bodies
for that purpose because such associations or groups are familiar with
the problems of their enterprises? * * * The answer is obvious. Such
a delegation of legislative power is unknown to our law and is utterly
inconsistent with the constitutional prerogatives and duties of Congress.
Shortly thereafter, Congress enacted the
Bituminous Coal Conservation Act (BCCA). The BCCA authorized the organization
of private "district boards of coal producers" as exclusive representatives
for their segments of the industry, empowered the boards to fix prices
and regulate "the sale and distribution of coal by code members" subject
to approval by a commission of the national government, and imposed sanctions
on dissenters. The BCCA also mandated collective bargaining "between representatives
of the majority of mine workers [in each district]" to fix terms and conditions
of employment for all workers.
In Carter v. Carter Coal
Co., the Supreme Court declared the BCCA an unconstitutional delegation
of legislative power to private parties. Referring specifically to the
provisions of the statute providing for exclusive representation among
employees, the Court observed that
[t]he effect, in respect of
wages and hours, is to subject the dissentient minority * * * of * * *
miners * * * to the will of the * * * majority * * * .
The power conferred upon the
majority is * * * the power to regulate the affairs of an unwilling minority.
This is legislative delegation in its most obnoxious form; for it
is not even delegation to an official or an official body, presumptively
disinterested, but to private persons whose interests may be and often
are adverse to the interests of others in the same business. * * * [A]
statute which attempts to confer such power undertakes an intolerable
and unconstitutional interference with personal liberty and private property.
And, as Chief Justice Hughes added,
[t]he provision [for exclusive
representation] permits a group of * * * employees, according to their
own views of expediency, to make rules as to hours and wages for other
* * * employees who are not parties to the agreements. Such a provision,
apart from the mere question of delegation of legislative power, is not
in accord with the requirements of due process of law.
Thus, Schechter and Carter
held that the government may not constitutionally require private persons
to submit their economic affairs to the control of exclusive representatives
selected from among other private persons in the same industry or employment,
notwithstanding that the highest public officials in the land supervised
the selection and decisions of the representatives.
Although little known today among most
people, including lawyers, Schechter and Carter were among
the most important cases of the 1930s, demolishing as they did one of the
main pillars of the Roosevelt New Deal (the cartelization of private industry).
Moreover, on the question of exclusive representation for employers and
employees they were unequivocal: Exclusive representation was "a delegation
of legislative power * * * unknown to our law and * * * utterly inconsistent
with the constitutional prerogatives and duties of Congress", "legislative
delegation in its most obnoxious form", "an intolerable and unconstitutional
interference with personal liberty and private property", and even "apart
from the mere question of delegation of legislative power * * * not in
accord with * * * due process of law". One wonders how a constitutional
condemnation could be phrased in language stronger and less equivocal than
this.
Until a by-the-way, wholly unexplicated
comment in Minnesota State Board for Community Colleges v. Knight
(Knight II), any legally trained observer would have concluded that
the holdings in Schechter and Carter remained as directly
relevant to every form of governmentally imposed exclusive representation,
and as intellectually valid and legally vital, as when the Court enunciated
them. Moreover, where, as in public employment, political as well
as economic interests were involved, these decisions should have been considered
to have had a particularly compelling force.
Between Schechter and Carter,
on the one hand, and Knight II, on the other, the unconstitutionality
of exclusive representation in both private and public employment escaped
judicial review on numerous occasions. In a challenge to the constitutionality
of the Railway Labor Act (RLA) in Virginian Railway v. System
Federation No. 40, the Supreme Court sidestepped the problem of exclusive
representation in two ways: First, to the railway’s argument that,
[i]f the Act empowers the
majority [of employees] to speak for the minority, it in effect delegates
to the majority the right to prevent the [employer] from making a contract
with the minority which the minority may be willing to make. A somewhat
similar delegation to the majority of power to bind the minority was recently
condemned by this Court in Carter v. Carter Coal Co., 298
U.S. 238[,]
the Court responded that "[t]he railroad
can complain only of the infringement of its own constitutional immunity,
not that of its employees". So that issue remained unheard.
Second, the Court held as a matter
of statutory construction that exclusive representation was "exclusive"
in only a narrow way. The RLA’s provision for exclusivity, the Court opined,
imposes the affirmative duty
[on the employer] to treat only with the true representative [of the employees],
and hence the negative duty to treat with no other. We think, as the
Government concedes in its brief, that the injunction against [the
employer’s] entering into any contract concerning rules, rates of pay and
working conditions, except with [the majority union], is designed only
to prevent collective bargaining with anyone purporting to represent employees,
other than [the majority union], who has been ascertained to be their true
representative. When read in this context it must be taken to prohibit
the negotiation of labor contracts, generally applicable to employees *
* * , with any representative other than [the majority union], but not
as precluding such individual contracts as [the employer] may
elect to make directly with individual employees.
The Court did, however, uphold the constitutionality
of compulsory collective bargaining itself (through "nonexclusive exclusive
representatives") on a "labor-peace" theory:
[W]e cannot ignore the judgment
of Congress * * * that * * * the meeting of employers and employees at
the conference table is a powerful aid to industrial peace.
[The] provisions [of the RLA]
are aimed at the settlement of industrial disputes by the promotion of
collective bargaining * * * . It was for Congress to make the choice of
the means by which its objective of securing the uninterrupted service
of interstate railroads was to be secured, and its judgment * * * is not
open to review here.
Noteworthy is that the Court did not investigate,
but simply deferred to, the judgment of Congress—not even bothering to
define what "industrial peace" meant or to identify what party was responsible,
in the sense of incurring some legally cognizable fault, for its absence.
For example, it was, and today still
is, generally assumed that the cause of industrial unrest, disputes, and
even violent strikes prior to the advent of compulsory collective bargaining
in the 1930s can or should be traced to the refusal of employers voluntarily
to accept the procedure of collective bargaining with unions. As the Supreme
Court said in NLRB v. Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp.,
the right of employees to
self-organization and to have representatives of their own choosing for
the purpose of collective bargaining is often an essential condition of
industrial peace. Refusal to confer and negotiate has been one of the most
prolific causes of strife.
Even if that description of the situation
were true—and, of course, it was never completely true, because even under
common law many employers did choose to bargain collectively with unions—it
would not inexorably lead to the conclusion that employers were somehow
uniquely at fault, for two reasons. First, prior to the 1930s employers
had a legal right to refuse to bargain collectively, and instead to bargain
individually, with their employees. Second, individual bargaining succeeded
because many employees did not desire to be represented by unions,
which was their legal right, too. After all, employers could hardly bargain
individually with employees unless those employees voluntarily bargained
with them.
The dispute over collective bargaining
in the 1930s, then, was never a matter of employers’ as a class unilaterally
denying the "rights" of employees or of unions as a class, but of many
employers’ and many employees’ standing together on their own legal rights
against the demands of other employees and their unions. Indeed, if employers
and employees exercised their then-undoubted common-law rights to bargain
individually, unions and their members had by legal hypothesis no
rights as against those employers and employees to bargain collectively.
So, to the extent that industrial unrest did result from the refusal of
employers and employees to accept the procedure of collective bargaining,
its cause can just as easily be assigned to the refusal of unions and their
members to accept the traditional common-law procedures of voluntary, free-market
bargaining and contract, but instead to demand that employers and employees
surrender their rights and knuckle under to the coercive device of exclusive
representation.
In any event, no one in the early 1930s,
and especially after Schechter and Carter, believed that
exclusive representation was easily defensible as consistent with American
economic or legal traditions. Indeed, so sure were even its partisans of
the opposite, that, when the constitutional validity of the National Labor
Relations Act (NLRA) was first at issue in the mid-1930s, the National
Labor Relations Board intentionally selected its test cases to keep the
sensitive question of exclusive representation from the Court. The Labor
Board’s brain trust well recognized the significance of Carter as
an adverse precedent.
This strategy bore fruit, probably
saving the NLRA from invalidation. For in NLRB v. Jones &
Laughlin Steel Corp. the Court followed the reasoning of Virginian
Railway to hold, as a matter of statutory construction, that exclusive
representation under the NLRA was analogous to exclusive representation
under the RLA, and not really "exclusive" at all.
The decree * * * affirmed
in [Virginian Railway] required the Railway Company to treat with
the representative chosen by the employees and also to refrain from entering
into collective labor agreements with anyone other than their true representative
as ascertained in accordance with the provisions of the [RLA]. We said
that the obligation to treat with the true representative was exclusive
and hence imposed the negative duty to treat with no other. We also pointed
out that, as conceded by the Government, the injunction against
the Company’s entering into any contract concerning rules, rates of pay
and working conditions except with a chosen representative was "designed
only to prevent collective bargaining with anyone purporting to represent
employees" other than the representative they had selected. It was taken
"to prohibit the negotiation of labor contracts generally applicable to
employees" in the described unit with any other representative than the
one so chosen, "but not as precluding such individual contracts" as the
Company might "elect to make directly with individual employees." We think
this construction appliles to [the provision for exclusive representation]
of the [NLRA].
As in Virginian Railway, this holding
reflected the unanimous position the litigants—including the government—presented
on the issue of exclusivity.
As in Virginian Railway, however,
the Court in Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp. upheld the constitutionality
of compulsory collective bargaining on the "labor-peace" theory that
[e]xperience has abundantly
demonstrated that the recognition of the right of employees to self-organization
and to have representatives of their own choosing for the purpose of collective
bargaining is often an essential condition of industrial peace. Refusal
to confer and negotiate has been one of the most prolific causes of strife.
Once again, though, the Court did not
inquire into what "industrial peace" entailed, either operationally or
legally. However, in the context of then-contemporary events, it was obvious
that the Court was alluding to the often violent strikes and lockouts that
had occurred during the early 1930s in the depths of the Depression.
In the mid-1940s, however, in two cases
that raised only issues of statutory construction and application—J.I.
Case Co. v. NLRB and Order of Railroad Telegraphers v.
Railway Express Agency, Inc.—the Supreme Court purported to reinterpret
the NLRA and RLA so as to preclude individual employment contracts in most
circumstances. Revealingly, neither of these decisions bothered to reconsider—or
even to delineate—the constitutional issues of exclusive representation
raised and avoided in Virginian Railway and Jones & Laughlin Steel
Corp., and how those issues (and particularly their avoidance) had
controlled the statutory constructions the Court employed in the latter
two cases. And this, notwithstanding that the statutory constructions in
Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp. and Virginian Railway had
served as the necessary predicates for those cases’ constitutional holdings,
and had been put forward by the government itself as the interpretation
on which it claimed the constitutionality of the statutes rested.
Rather cavalierly, the Court in J.I.
Case Co. acknowledged what it was doing, but did it anyway, without
explication of its reasons:
[I]t is urged that where *
* * the contracts [with individual employees] were not unfairly or unlawfully
obtained, the court indicated a contrary rule [of statutory construction]
in [Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp. and Virginian Railway].
Without reviewing those cases in detail, it may be said that their decision
called for nothing and their opinions contain nothing which may be properly
read to rule the case before us. The court in those cases recognized the
existence of some scope for individual contracts, but it did not undertake
to define it or to consider the relations between lawful individual and
collective agreements * * * .
Having redefined exclusive representation
in J.I. Case Co. and Order of Railroad Telegraphers, though,
the Court ought to have considered itself duty-bound to determine whether
that new construction raised the very constitutional problems its earlier
constructions of the statutes had been designed to avoid. Instead, it simply
avoided the issue, conveniently "[w]ithout reviewing those cases in detail".
For "review[ of] those cases" would doubtlessly have embarrassed its new
agenda. To call this transparent tactic on the Court’s part a rather crass
use of the "bait and switch" gambit is hardly harsh.
However, the Court did find space in
its opinion in J.I. Case Co. to reassert a "labor-peace" rationale
for its new construction of exclusive representation: "The practice and
philosophy of collective bargaining looks with suspicion on * * * individual
advantages. * * * [A]dvantages to individuals may prove as disruptive of
industrial peace as disadvantages." But precisely why "advantages
to individuals", honestly obtained, should be legally suspect—and, in fact,
legally proscribed, as J.I. Case Co. and Order of Railroad Telegraphers
held—simply because "[t]he practice and philosophy of collective bargaining
* * * looks" on them that way the Court did not feel compelled to explain.
The contemporaneous decision in Steele
v. Louisville & Nashville Railroad Co. also sidestepped the
(un)constitutionality of exclusive representation in private-sector employment
by imposing on unions the so-called "duty of fair representation" as to
nonunion employees, in order to avoid the particular issues of due process
and equal protection of the law that exclusive representation raised in
that case. The Court explained that
the [exclusive] representative
is clothed with power not unlike that of a legislature which is subject
to constitutional limitations on its power to deny, restrict, destroy or
discriminate against the rights of those for whom it legislates and which
is also under an affirmative constitutional duty equally to protect those
rights. If the Railway Labor Act purports to impose on [nonunion
employees] the legal duty to comply with the terms of a [collective-bargaining]
contract whereby the representative has discriminatorily restricted their
employment for the benefit and advantage of the [union’s] own members,
we must decide the constitutional questions * * * .
However, dodging those questions, the
Court concluded that
the Railway Labor Act imposes
on the * * * representative * * * at least as exacting a duty to protect
equally the interests of the members of the craft as the Constitution imposes
upon a legislature to give equal protection to the interests of those for
whom it legislates. Congress has seen fit to clothe the representative
with powers comparable to those possessed by a legislative body both to
create and restrict the rights of those whom it represents, * * * but it
has also imposed on the representative a corresponding duty.
In his concurring opinion, Justice Murphy
followed the same strategy, observing that the
constitutional problem inherent
in this instance is clear. Congress, through the Railway Labor Act, has
conferred upon the union * * * the power to represent the entire craft
* * * in all collective bargaining matters. While such a union is essentially
a private organization, its power to represent and bind all members of
a class * * * is derived solely from Congress. * * * [I]t cannot be assumed
that Congress meant to authorize the representative to act so as to ignore
rights guaranteed by the Constitution. Otherwise the Act would bear the
stigma of unconstitutionality under the Fifth Amendment * * * .
Thus, both the Court’s and Justice Murphy’s
opinions set out rather clear-cut recognition of the problem of delegation
of legislative power that had formed the predicates for Schechter
and Carter:
Congress has seen fit to clothe
the representative with powers comparable to those possessed by a legislative
body both to create and restrict the rights of those whom it represents
* * * .
While such a union is essentially
a private organization, its power to represent and bind all members of
a class * * * is derived solely from Congress.
However, as in Virginian Railway
and Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., the Court avoided the delegation-of-power
issue through clever statutory construction—namely, cutting from whole
cloth the duty of fair representation.
In Steele, this artful-dodger
approach was possible because the complaining nonunion employees sought
either nondiscriminatory representation by the union or a judgment that
they could not be required to accept the union’s control over their employment
relations, but did not argue that nondiscriminatory exclusive representation
in and of itself was unconstitutional. The nonunion employees asked for
"an injunction against the [union] * * * from purporting to act as [their
exclusive] representative * * * so long as the discrimination continues".
Thus, Steele left completely open the question of the constitutionality
of concededly nondiscriminatory exclusive representation. Indeed, Steele’s
construction of exclusive representation as implying a duty of fair representation
would have been perfectly consistent with a determination in that or some
other case that exclusive representation is unconstitutional on grounds
other than the presence of invidious discrimination. For example, Schechter
held the NIRA unconstitutional on delegation-of-power grounds, notwithstanding
that that statute contained an explicit duty of fair representation.
The next case to touch on (although
not to decide any aspect of the constitutionality of) exclusive representation,
City of Madison, Joint School District No. 8 v. Wisconsin Employment
Relations Commission, arose in the public sector. There, the Court
held that a State may not constitutionally require an elected board of
education to prohibit a nonunion teacher from speaking at a public meeting
on a matter then the subject of collective bargaining between the board
and the teacher’s exclusive bargaining representative. The constitutionality
of exclusive representation itself, however, was in no way at issue. Indeed,
the Court found it unnecessary to define "the extent to which true contract
negotiations between a public body and its employees may be regulated".
Nevertheless, the Court held that, "[r]egardless of the extent to which
true contract negotiations between a public body and its employees may
be regulated—an issue we need not consider at this time—the participation
in public discussion of public business cannot be confined to one category
of interested individuals. To permit one side of a debatable public question
to have a monopoly in expressing its views to the government is the antithesis
of constitutional guarantees."
One would have thought that the rather
self-evident and quite unequivocal point—that "[t]o permit one side of
a debatable public question to have a monopoly in expressing its views
to the government is the antithesis of constitutional guarantees"—would
have seriously undermined the validity of exclusive representation in public-sector
employment, inasmuch as exclusive representation in that context is operationally
nothing if not "[t]o permit one side of a debatable public question to
have a monopoly in expressing its views to the government". Nonetheless,
in a concurring opinion in City of Madison, Justice Brennan claimed
that
Wisconsin has adopted, as
unquestionably the State constitutionally may adopt, a statutory policy
that authorizes public bodies to accord exclusive recognition to representatives
for collective bargaining chosen by the majority of an appropriate unit
of employees. In that circumstance the First Amendment plainly does
not prohibit Wisconsin from limiting attendance at a collective-bargaining
session to school board and union bargaining representative and denying
[an individual nonunion employee] the right to attend and speak at the
session.
One wonders by what chain of reasoning,
in light of the rather clear-cut litigational history of exclusive representation
set out heretofore, anyone—let alone a Justice of the Supreme Court—could
opine with a straight face that exclusive representation was "unquestionably"
or "plainly" constitutional in any respect, least of all under the First
Amendment.
For Justice Brennan, though, the liceity
of compulsory bargaining through an exclusive representative was apparently
"implicit in the words of Mr. Justice Holmes, that the ‘Constitution does
not require all public acts to be done in town meeting or in assembly of
the whole.’ Bi-Metallic Investment Co. v. State Board of Equalization,
239 U.S. 441, 445 (1915)". As anyone—even a Justice of the Supreme Court—can
conclude simply by reading Bi-Metallic Investment Co., however,
that case in fact had nothing whatsoever to say about the constitutional
problems exclusive representation raises. Neither could it have
had anything to say about those problems. For Bi-Metallic Investment
Co. was decided two decades before statutory union representation
came into existence in the Railway Labor and National Labor Relations Acts,
and three decades before the Supreme Court transmogrified the essentially
non-exclusive representation upheld in Virginian Railway
and Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp. into the strictly exclusive
representation common in the private and public sectors today. Thus, the
length of Justice Brennan’s reach for a supposed precedent rather "unquestionably"
and "plainly" exposed his own recognition sotto voce that no real
authority for exclusive representation existed either temporally or intellectually.
The next case to touch on (but, once
again, not to decide any aspect of the constitutionality of) exclusive
representation was Abood v. Detroit Board of Education. Abood
held that an agency-shop arrangement in public-sector employment did not,
on its face, violate the First and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution—although
such a scheme could possibly abridge individual nonunion employees’ fundamental
rights as applied.
Abood neither decided, nor even
addressed, the issue of the unconstitutionality of exclusive representation,
because that issue was not raised in the case in any way, shape, or form.
The nonunion employees did not challenge exclusive representation in their
original or amended complaints. The lower courts did not rule on any constitutional
question touching on exclusive representation. The parties did not present
any such constitutional question to the Supreme Court. Indeed, to the contrary,
the nonunion employees explicitly stated that their "appeal * * * does
not raise the question of the unconstitutionality of exclusive representation
in public employment". "Therefore," the nonunion employees told the Court,
"we must and shall refrain from addressing the merits of that issue [i.e.,
exclusive representation], secure in the knowledge that they will wend
their tortuous way to this Court, sooner or later." "We repeat: Our concern
here is not to attack the principle of exclusive representation
as such." And the union agreed that the nonunion employees "do not challenge"
exclusive representation. Moreover, Justice Stewart’s plurality opinion
in Abood stated the question before the Court as being "whether
[an agency shop] arrangement violates * * * constitutional rights", and
held that "[a]ll we decide is that * * * the complaint * * * establish[es]
a cause of action" with respect to the agency shop. Therefore, if (as they
did) the nonunion employees’ complaints challenged only the agency shop
(and not exclusive representation), if (as they did) the parties litigated
only the constitutionality of the agency shop (and not exclusive representation),
if (as they did) the parties explicitly stated that no challenge to exclusive
representation was before the Court, and if (as it did) the Court itself
held no more than that "the complaint[s] establish[ed] a cause of action"
as to the agency shop, then a constitutional ruling on exclusive representation
in Abood was not legally possible.
Not surprisingly, therefore, none of
the opinions in Abood focussed on the constitutionality vel non
of exclusive representation. Justice Stewart’s plurality opinion referred
to various responsibilities of an exclusive representative in collective
bargaining, in order to set out the traditional "free-rider" rationale
for the agency shop. However, he cited no decision of the Supreme Court
that had sustained exclusive representation in either public or private
employment. This, of course, was no mere oversight. For the only decision
of the Court then extant on exclusive representation by a labor union—Carter
v. Carter Coal Co.—had held exclusive representation unconstitutional.
In a separate opinion, Justice Powell
observed that a "collective bargaining agreement to which a public agency
is a party * * * has all the attributes of legislation", and admonished
his colleagues that "voters could complain with force and reason that their
voting power and influence on the [governmental] decision making process
ha[ve] been constitutionally diluted" by delegation of power to a union
to participate in making such economic laws. In these comments, Justice
Powell implicitly recognized the problems of corporativism and unequal
political influence inherent in compulsory public-sector bargaining through
exclusive representation. He did not articulate any opinion on those constitutional
issues, though, the very tense of the verb he used ("could complain")
showing the purely hypothetical nature of his comments. For no litigants
presenting their rights as "voters" were then before the Court.
Furthermore, in their brief, the nonunion
employees also disclaimed any intent to litigate the issue of delegation
of power, saying that
[w]e need not explain in detail
how prior decisions of this Court foreclose the question of the unconstitutionaluity
of such a delegation of power to private parties to structure the public
interest according to their own. E.g., A.L.A. Schechter Poultry Corp.
v. United States, 295 U.S. 495, 537 (1935); Carter v. Carter Coal
Co., 298 U.S. 238, 311, 318 (1936) (opinion of the Court; Hughes, C.J.,
concurring); and cf. Lathrop v. Donohue, 367 U.S. 820, 853-55, 878
n.1 (1961) (Harlan, J., concurring; Douglas, J., dissenting). Neither need
we advert to the controlling nature of these decisions on the issue of
exclusive representation which underlies the whole agency-shop problem.
It is not our purpose to raise the constitutional conundrums which both
Justices Harlan and Douglas in Lathrop considered pregnant with
danger and difficulty * * * .
And the union neither discussed the issue
nor even cited any of the cases to which the nonunion employees referred.
Justice Stewart’s plurality opinion
also ignored Schechter and Carter, and acknowledged the marginally
relevant Lathrop decision only correctly to note that that case
"does not provide a clear holding to guide us in adjudicating the constitutional
questions here presented".
In his opinion, however, Justice Powell
made a very curious observation:
Because this appeal reaches
this Court on a motion to dismiss, the record is barren of any demonstration
by the State, that excluding minority views from the processes by which
governmental policy is made is necessary to serve overriding governmental
interests. For the Court to sustain the exclusivity principle in the public
sector in the absence of a carefully documented record is to ignore, rather
than respect, "the importance of avoiding unnecessary decision of constitutional
questions."
As explained above, "the record [in Abood
was] barren of any demonstration by the State, that excluding minority
views from the processes by which governmental policy is made is necessary
to serve overriding governmental interests" precisely because the litigants
did not raise that issue, and therefore had no occasion to make such a
record, even by way of allegations in their complaints. Therefore, it was
constitutionally impossible "[f]or the Court to [have] sustain[ed]
the exclusivity principle in the public sector", because the Court lacks
constitutional authority to give advisory opinions on issues not presented
to it in a specific "Case" or "Controversy". Presumably, Justice Powell
knew all this. And he had before him the record of the case, which if it
was not self-explanatory was supplemented by the nonunion employees’ unequivocal
statements in their brief that their appeal did not raise the issue of
exclusivity. So why did Justice Powell say what he did? Was it mere confusion?
Or was it perhaps intended to plant the seeds of a legend—the legend that
later sprouted (as described below) in Chicago Teachers Union, Local
No. 1 v. Hudson?
Finally, in their separate concurring
opinions in Abood, Justices Rehnquist and Stevens said nothing at
all on the subject of the constitutionality vel non of exclusive
representation.
As in its earlier decisions, the Abood
Court mechanically and unthinkingly brought forth the "labor-peace" argument
to rationalize compulsory public-sector collective bargaining. Justice
Stewart’s plurality opinion adverted at several places to the view that
"labor stability will be served by a system of exclusive representation".
These statements, however, constituted no decision of constitutional law,
but mere and even question-begging dicta. Many things that might
serve "labor stability"—such as slavery—could also violate the Constitution.
For one example of what could fairly
be described as Abood’s double-talk on this subject, Justice Stewart
contended that
[t]he designation of a single
representative avoids the confusion that would result from attempting to
enforce two or more agreements specifying different terms and conditions
of employment. It prevents inter-union rivalries from creating dissension
within the work force and eliminating the advantages to the employees of
collectivization. It also frees the employer from the possibilty of facing
conflicting demands from different unions, and permits the employer and
a single union to reach agreements and settlements that are not subject
to attack from rival labor organizations.
One wonders in what dream world Justice
Stewart was operating when he wrote this passage. Where in public employment
(or private employment, for that matter) was it common, or even known,
for employers to "attempt[ ] to enforce two or more agreements specifying
different terms and conditions of employment" as to the selfsame
employees? Not surprisingly, Justice Stewart provided no example. For that
matter, where in public or private employment was it common for employers
to attempt to enforce two or more agreements specifying radically different
terms and conditions of employment for different, but similarly situated,
employees? Not surprisingly, Justice Stewart provided no example of this,
either. Even in the absence of unions, free labor markets simply do not
allow such situations to arise in the normal course of events, or (if they
adventitiously do) to persist for any significant length of time. To be
sure, in the context of a hypothetical statute mandating compulsory collective
bargaining but without exclusive representation, where two or more unions
are empowered simultaneously to negotiate for the same employees, it is
possible to imagine that an employer might "fac[e] conflicting demands
from different unions", and "the confusion that would result from attempting
to enforce two or more agreements specifying different terms and conditions
of employment". But no public-sector collective-bargaining statute ever
set up such a psychotic system.
For another instance of this confused
thinking, Justice Stewart argued that
[t]he confusion and conflict
that could arise if rival teachers’ unions, holding quite different views
as to the proper class hours, class sizes, holidays, tenure provisions,
and grievance procedures, each sought to obtain the employer’s agreement,
are no different in kind from the evils that the exclusivity rule in the
Railway Labor Act was designed to avoid. * * * The desirability of labor
peace is no less important in the public sector * * * .
To hold this view, though, one would have
to believe that a free labor market—in which employers could bargain with
one union, more than one union if conditions warranted, or no unions at
all—would necessarily and ineradicably be beset with debilitating "confusion
and conflict". That, however, was not the case before compulsory collective-bargaining
statutes were enacted. It was not the case when Abood was decided.
And it is most assuredly not the case today, where the vast majority of
private-sector employees belongs to no union at all. Also, for a Justice
of the Supreme Court to hold this view, he would have to ignore the decisions
in Virginian Railway and Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp.,
which held that, notwithstanding the designation of a union as the employees’
majority representative, an employer could enter into individual contracts
with employees—contracts which, presumably, could have been informed by
the "different views" of a "rival" union, so long as the "rival" union
did not purport to act as the majority representative. Finally, for anyone
to hold Justice Stewart’s view, he would have to forget that "[t]he confusion
and conflict that could arise if rival * * * unions * * * each sought to
obtain the employer’s agreement" derive fundamentally from the existence
of compulsory collective bargaining itself. If employers were not compelled
by statute to bargain, terms and conditions of employment would be set
by free-market forces, which would balance or filter out the "quite different
views" of "rival" unions.
Interestingly, Justice Stewart’s theory
of "labor peace" turned not on outbreaks of industrial violence by workers
if employers refused to accede to the process of collective bargaining
(as was the historical predicate for the "labor-peace" rationales of Virginian
Railway and Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp.), but on the palpably
circular argument that "confusion and conflict * * * could arise if rival
* * * unions * * * each sought to obtain the employer’s agreement". That
is, "labor peace" required exclusivity in compulsory collective bargaining
because, without exclusivity, an imaginary inherently chaotic scheme of
compulsory collective bargaining would be chaotic! To which assertion,
one would have thought, the proper response would have been a shrug, a
derisive smile, and the suggestion that the logical solution to that phantom
problem was simply to avoid any compulsory collective bargaining at all.
Interestingly, too, Justice Stewart’s
theory that "[t]he confusion and conflict that could arise if rival * *
* unions * * * each sought to obtain the employer’s agreement, are no
different in kind from the evils that the exclusivity rule in the Railway
Labor Act was designed to avoid" reinterpreted the "labor-peace" rationale
of Virginian Railway from one concerned with violent strikes by
unionized employees protesting the absence of union recognition and collective
bargaining to one concerned with imaginary "confusion and conflict" in
the context of hypothetical multi-union collective bargaining. Perhaps
this was because Justice Stewart sensed that one could not plausibly rely
on a traditional industrial-violence model of "labor peace" where the government—that
is, the public—was the employer.
In any event, in all of this Jusice
Stewart said nothing about the constitutional problems surrounding exclusive
representation.
Revealingly as well, even in support
of the agency shop (the matter at issue in Abood) Justice Stewart’s
plurality opinion cited but a single constitutional case: Railway Employes’
Department v. Hanson. Hanson, however, said nothing about
the constitutionality vel non of exclusive representation, either.
And prior to Abood, the one Court of Appeals squarely presented
with the question had concluded that Hanson was irrelevant to the
unconstitutionality of exclusive representation. So how, by relying on
Hanson, Abood could have said anything about the constitutionality
of exclusive representation defies comprehension.
Hanson did, however, make an
obeisance to "labor peace", saying that
Congress has authority to
adopt all appropriate measures to "facilitate the amicable settlement of
disputes which threaten the service of the necessary agencies of interstate
transportation." * * * These measures include provisions that will encourage
the settlement of disputes "by inducing collective bargaining with the
true representative of the employees and by preventing such bargaining
with any who do not represent them," Virginian Ry. Co. v. System Federation
No. 40, 300 U.S. 515, 548, and that will protect the employees against
discrimination or coercion which would interfere with the free exercise
of their right of self-organization and representation. National Labor
Relations Board v. Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., 301 U.S. 1, 33, 57.
Industrial peace along the arteries of commerce is a legitimate objective;
and Congress has great latitude in choosing the methods by which it is
to be obtained.
But, in these remarks, Hanson clearly
relied on a vision of "labor peace" that related to violent strikes over
union recognition and bargaining that shut down interstate commerce. And,
by its citation of authority, Hanson conceded sotto voce
that even that form of labor unrest could be averted by the kind of exclusive
representation upheld in Virginian Railway and Jones & Laughlin
Steel Corp.—that is, exclusive representation that was not in fact
exclusive, because it permitted bargaining by individual employees.
From all of this, then, it is pellucidly
clear that Abood constituted no precedent for the constitutionality
of exclusive representation in public-sector employment (or anywhere else),
and certainly did not overrule or find inapplicable to public-sector exclusive
representation the unequivocal condemnations of exclusive representation
in Schechter and Carter.
Following Abood, the Supreme
Court decided Perry Education Association v. Perry Local Educators’
Association. Although there the Court held that a school board could
constitutionally grant to a union designated as the teachers’ exclusive
bargaining representative the exclusive privilege to use teachers’ mailboxes
and the interschool mail system, the constitutionality of exclusive representation
itself was in no way at issue.
Nonetheless, in dicta the Court
made a by-the-way nod to exclusivity, saying
[w]e observe that providing
exclusive access to recognized bargaining representatives is a permissible
practice in the public sector. We have previously noted that the "designation
of a union as exclusive representative carries with it great responsibilities.
The tasks of negotiating and administering a collective-bargaining agreement
and representing the interests of employees in settling disputes and processing
grievances are continuing and difficult ones." Abood v. Detroit Bd.
of Ed., 431 U.S. 209, 221 (1977). Moreover, exclusion of the rival
union may reasonably be considered a means of insuring labor peace within
the schools. The policy "serves to prevent the * * * schools from becoming
a battlefield for inter-union squabbles."
Revealingly, the Court cited no case for
the proposition that "providing exclusive access to recognized bargaining
representatives is a [constitutionally] permissible practice in
the public sector". (Probably the Court merely meant that such exclusive
access was "permissible" in the sense that many States in fact permitted
it, rather than that it was legally justificable on statutory and constitutional
grounds.) And, of course, the one case it did cite, Abood, sustained
neither any privileges of "exclusive access" nor exclusive representation
itself, in whole or in part—which is perhaps why the Perry Court
merely said that Abood had "noted" certain things about exclusive
representation, not that Abood had actually held anything
on that subject.
Also revealingly, the Perry
Court did not seem to grasp the obvious petitio principi in its
observation that "exclusion of the rival union may reasonably be considered
a means of insuring labor peace within the schools. The policy ‘serves
to prevent the * * * schools from becoming a battlefield for inter-union
squabbles’". Of course, "insuring labor peace" could also be brought about
by not allowing collective bargaining through exclusive representation
at all. For, without that system, "inter-union squabbles" would not be
possible, because no prize of exclusive privileges would stand to be won
on that "battlefield". That is, as articulated in Perry (as it was
in Justice Stewart’s plurality opinion in Abood), the issue of "labor
peace" is entirely synthetic, being merely—one is tempted to say, exclusively—the
product or artifact of compulsory collective bargaining itself.
In keeping with the illogic of its
primary position, the Perry Court admitted that "there is no showing
in the record of past disturbance * * * or evidence that future disturbance
would be likely" from allowing a union in competition with the exclusive
representative to use the school mailboxes and mail system, but nevertheless
held such proof unnecessary to sustain the exclusive union privileges at
issue. That is, to the Court in Perry the "labor-peace" theory was
not one that required supporting evidence before the rights of nonunion
employees could be abridged, even though, traditionally, "undifferentiated
fear or apprehension of disturbance is not enough to overcome" First-Amendment
freedoms.
Interestingly, although Justice Brennan
dissented in Perry from the Court’s notion that a threat to "labor
peace" required no real evidence, he nonetheless accepted the question-begging
proposition that "the State’s interest in preserving labor peace * * *
in order to prevent disruption is unquestionably substantial". One can
only wonder—for Justice Brennan failed to explain—how the government’s
interest in "labor peace" is legitimately "substantial", when the threat
to "labor peace" operationally arises from rivalry among unions for, and
opposition by nonunion employees to, the very monopoly status for unions
the government itself has created. Unless the constitutionality of that
status has been proven, the government can claim no interest, substantial
or otherwise, in the "labor peace" that status purportedly creates.
Most important to notice is the subtle—or,
perhaps more accurately put, slippery—transition that took place in Justice
Brennan’s opinion in Perry. In Virginian Railway and Jones
& Laughlin Steel Corp. the Court in essence applied a de minimis
rational-basis test to compulsory collective bargaining, saying that "[i]t
was for Congress to make the choice of the means by which its objective
of securing the uninterrupted service of interstate railroads was to be
secured, and its judgment * * * is not open to review here". As to exclusive
representation under the RLA and NLRA this approach may have been minimally
legitimate in Virginian Railway and Jones & Laughlin Steel
Corp., because (as explained above) no employees challenged the statutes,
and the Court construed the RLA and NLRA as not precluding individual bargaining
between employers and employees. But those cases certainly did not determine
that the government had a "substantial"—or even any—interest in
exclusive representation as exclusive representation came to be reinterpreted
years later, perforce of J.I. Case Co. and Order of Railroad
Telegraphers, for the compelling reason that, in Virginian Railway
and Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp. the government did not assert
a theory of truly exclusive exclusive represention, and in J.I. Case
Co. and Order of Railroad Telegraphers the Court refused to
discuss the constitutional issues arising from its reinterpretation of
exclusive representation. Obviously, then, Justice Brennan was attempting
to further the legend he had originally cut from whole cloth in City
of Madison that exclusive representation was "unquestionably" or "plainly"
constitutional, by supplying the first level of legal magic language for
that unjustifiable conclusion: that the government’s interest in exclusive
representation was "substantial".
Following Perry came Knight
v. Minnesota Community College Faculty Association (Knight I),
a case which did, for the first time, raise serious constitutional
questions about exclusive representation in public-sector employment. Unfortunately,
but perhaps predictably, the Court chose to treat Knight I in a
summary fashion, without briefs on the merits, oral argument, or a full
opinion, notwithstanding that, under the jurisdictional statute in force
at the time, the nonunion employees had a right to appeal their
case to the Court, and notwithstanding that the disposition, albeit summary,
was nevetheless a decision on the merits.
In a companion case to Knight I,
Minnesota State Board for Community Colleges v. Knight (Knight
II), arising under the same jurisdictional statute, the Court—after
full briefs on the merits and oral argument—held that a State community-college
board could constitutionally prohibit nonunion teachers from speaking at
official meetings on policy questions related to their employment but outside
the scope of mandatory collective bargaining (the so-called "meet-and-confer"
process), and could reserve the right to speak to members of the exclusive
representative.
The constitutionality of exclusive
representation itself was not at issue in Knight II. Nonetheless,
the Court in Knight II sustained the union’s exclusive privilege
to speak at the board’s meetings by reference to exclusive representation:
If it is rational for the
State to give the exclusive representative a unique role in the [collective-bargaining]
process, as the summary affirmance in [Knight I] presupposes, it
is rational for the State to do the same in the "meet and confer" process.
The goal of reaching agreement makes it imperative for an employer to have
before it only one collective view of its employees when "negotiating."
See Abood v. Detroit Board of Education, 431 U.S. at 244.
Similarly, the goal of basing policy decisions
on consideration of the majority view of its employees makes it reasonable
for an employer to give only the exclusive representative a particular
formal setting in which to offer advice on policy.
In a footnote, the Court correctly
described Abood’s holding on the agency shop, but then stated in
slippery verbiage that "Abood did not even discuss, let alone adopt,
any general bar on ‘exclusivity’ outside the collective-bargaining context".
Of course (although the Court did not advert to it), neither did Abood
discuss, let alone adopt, any general constitutional permission for exclusivity
outside, inside, or anywhere around the collective-bargaining context.
Abood held nothing about exclusivity at all.
In any event, that it may be "rational
for the State to give the exclusive representative a unique role in the
[collective-bargaining] process" was beside the constitutional point in
Knight II—and, interestingly enough, was not even an issue in Knight
I. That some governmental scheme is somehow internally rational (in
an operational sense) does not compel the conclusion, or even necessarily
provide persuasive argument, that the scheme is also constitutional. Operationally,
of course, there can be only one union representative if there is to be
only one agreement with one collective representative. So, in that trivial,
tautologous sense, exclusive representation is rational. The constitutional
issue in Knight I, however, was not whether the designation of one
monopolistic representative was a rational way to create a system of monopolistic
representation, but whether such a designation, precisely because it gave
monopolistic powers to a private organization, abridged governmental and
popular sovereignty, in violation of the holdings of Schechter and
Carter, and of the fundamental constitutional principle of political
equality that the Supreme Court had applied in numerous other of its decisions.
As to this, the Court in Knight
II simply said that
[t]he [lower] court rejected
[the nonunion employees’] attack on the constitutionality of exclusive
representation in bargaining over terms and conditions of employment [in
Knight I], relying chiefly on Abood v. Detroit Board of Education,
431 U.S. 209 (1977). * * * The [Supreme] Court summarily affirmed the judgment
insofar as the District Court held [exclusive representation] to be valid.
Knight v. Minnesota Community College Faculty Association, 460 U.S.
1048 (1983). The Court thus rejected [the nonunion employees’] argument,
based on A.L.A. Schechter Poultry Corp. v. United States, 295 U.S.
495 (1935), and on Carter v. Carter Coal Co., 298 U.S. 238 (1936),
that [exclusive representation] unconstitutionally delegated legislative
authority to private parties.
On what constitutional grounds
the Court in Knight I "rejected" the argument based on Schechter
and Carter the Court in neither Knight I nor Knight II
chose to explain. The Court cited no decision other than Abood in
support of the result in Knight I—from which, apparently, a reader
of Knight II unfamiliar with Abood, and who incautiously
fails to parse that decision for himself, is to infer that Abood
somehow upheld the constitutionality of exclusive representation, and even
somehow distinguished or overruled Schechter and Carter.
The statement that "[t]he [Supreme]
Court summarily affirmed the judgment [of the District Court] insofar as
the District Court held [exclusive representation] to be valid" provided
no particular help, either. For, in its opinion, the District Court merely
fantasized that "Abood squarely upholds the constitutionality of
exclusive representation bargaining in the public sector"—when, of course,
Abood does, and in light of the issues actually litigated in that
case could do, no such thing.
The political grounds for the Supreme
Court’s statement in Knight II, however, are not so difficult to
fathom. By treating Knight I in a summary fashion, without a full
opinion, the Court not only could suppress the arguments and evidence the
nonunion employees put forward (for not one person in ten million will
bother to consult the briefs hidden away in the Court’s bowels), but also
could spare itself the embarrassment of trying to rationalize the constitutionality
of exclusive representation in the teeth of Schechter, Carter,
and numerous other cases.
Most revealing about the whole affair
is that Knight I was the first, and to date remains the only, case
to reach the Supreme Court in which public-sector exclusive representation
has been challenged on constitutional grounds. (Carter held exclusive
representation unconstitutional in private-sector employment.) Why, if
Knight I was to be the only such case (as presumably the Court knew
it would be, were exclusive representation upheld), and why, if the Court
were to "reject[ ]" the obvious—indeed, logically compelling—application
of Schechter and Carter to exclusive representation in the
public sector, would the Court not have explained to the country the manifold
sound bases for its decision, if such there were?
Justice Brennan wrote an extensive
dissenting opinion in Knight II. Yet in Knight I he was strangely
silent, notwithstanding that in other cases he had condemned summary dispositions
of serious constitutional questions as "judicial irresponsibility".
That all the Justices eschewed any
explanation or critique of what the Court did in Knight I evidenced
their recognition sotto voce that a sound constitutional basis for
that decision not only did not exist, but was even not capable of being
concocted out of lawyers’ double-talk—and that any mention of this would,
doubtlessly, draw the public’s attention to what the case entailed. How,
indeed, could the Court summarily, without a written opinion, "reject[
]" Schechter and Carter, two of the most significant constitutional
decisions of the Roosevelt era, which set aside the key legislation of
the New Deal? Was this because no opinion was necessary—or because no believable
opinion could be written? Moreover, what sort of legal logic or economy
would have led the Justices to pen long and involved majority, concurring,
and dissenting opinions in Knight II, yet no opinion at all in Knight
I, when the Court in Knight II explicitly rested that decision
on the ersatz authority of Knight I ("[i]f it is rational
for the State * * * " and so on, as quoted above)?
The dissenting opinions in Knight
II are themselves quite illuminating as to the fundamental deception
all the Justices practiced in that decision. In his dissent, Justice Brennan
wrote that,
[a]s we have often recognized,
the use of an exclusive union representative is permissible in the collective-bargaining
context because of the State’s compelling interest in reaching an enforceable
agreement, an interest that is best served when the State is free to reserve
closed bargaining sessions to the designated representative of a union
selected by public employees. See Abood, * * * 431 U.S. at 223-26.
See also Madison Joint School District No. 8 v. Wisconsin Employment
Relations Comm’n, 429 U.S. 167, 178 (1976) (BRENNAN, J., concurring
in judgment).
One wonders who the "we" might be who
"often recognized" the "permissib[ity]" of public-sector exclusive representation,
other than Justice Brennan himself. No case before Knight I, including
Abood and City of Madison, ever held "exclusive union representati[on]
* * * permissible" in public employment, on any ground. No case before
Knight I ever held that there was a "compelling [governmental] interest
in reaching an enforceable agreement" that justified exclusive representation.
Indeed, even Knight I (as interpreted by Knight II) did not
so hold. Knight II merely said that "[i]f it is rational
for the State to give the exclusive representative a unique role in the
[collective-bargaining] process, as the summary affirmance in [Knight
I] presupposes", then a lesser form of exclusivity would also be "rational".
And, by Knight II’s own admission, the result in Knight I
merely "presuppose[d]" that such a situation was "rational".
The Court having written no opinion, Knight I never actually inquired
whether, let alone proved that, such a presupposition was valid, when measured
against countervailing arguments and evidence. In addition, the nonunion
employees in Knight I never argued that it was not "rational for
the State to give the exclusive representative a unique role in the [collective-bargaining]
process", but rather contended that exclusive representation is unconstitutional
precisely because it is a rational and effective means to create
a monopoly of political and economic influence for a union occupying such
a position.
Again, noteworthy is the slippery transition
made in Justice Brennan’s opinion. In the majority opinion in Knight
II, the most the Court dared to say was that exclusive representation
could be "presuppose[d]" to be "rational" on the basis of Knight I,
but without providing any details as to why that was so. Mere rationality,
of course, is the lowest basis for a constitutional ruling; and, as every
law student learns in his first course in constitutional law, it cannot
be employed to justify infringements on fundamental rights of free speech,
association, and political equality (the rights asserted in Knight I).
So the bare statement of Knight II as to the mere rationality of
what Knight I did could not have been very comforting to anyone,
such as Justice Brennan, conversant with the standards of contemporary
constitutional jurisprudence and hoping to convince readers of the United
States Reports that such standards had properly been applied in Knight
I. Of course, under the circumstances, it was tactically the best,
and perhaps the only, route the Court could follow in Knight II,
given its obvious desire to suppress the issues raised in Knight I.
In Perry, Justice Brennan had
stated in dicta that the government had a "substantial" interest
in exclusive representation, putting the matter a notch higher up on the
constitutional scale than mere rationality, yet still not high enough to
justify the result the Court allowed in Knight I. So, in Knight
II, Justice Brennan conveniently discovered from nowhere that the government’s
interest in exclusive representation had suddenly risen to the "compelling"
level—the verbal talisman that cures abridgments of fundamental rights.
The assertion of this conclusory language could explain away to careless
readers of the decision the result in Knight I without actually
explaining the basis for that decision. So, very neatly, by Justice Brennan’s
verbal legerdemain the constitutionality of exclusive representation in
public-sector employment was decided rhetorically, without anyone’s actually
having to address the question with real evidence and legal arguments as
if they were in a courtroom.
One may legitimately wonder what, in
Justice Brennan’s mind, the "compelling" governmental interest in exclusive
representation might have been. True, the designation of one monopolistic
representative is a rational, effective, and even arguably the only way
to create a system of monopolistic representation. But what "compels" the
government—what legitimate constitutional power and right, let alone duty,
has it—to create such a system? For decades—yea, generations—governments
hired employees without compulsory collective bargaining and exclusive
representation, and quite adequately provided the public with services
through those employees. So the "compelling" nature of the thing, whatever
it may be, is no unavoidable, existential aspect of public-sector employment
itself. Furthermore, for decades—yea, generations—public-sector unionism
and both compulsory and voluntary collective bargaining were deemed
wholly inconsistent with traditional concepts of governmental sovereignty.
So the "compelling" nature of the thing, whatever it may be, is no matter
of law. Indeed, the "compelling" aspect of exclusive representation flies
in the face of traditional legal principles. Pace Justice Brennan,
it is no practical matter of "reaching an enforceable agreement", either.
For a public employer can certainly contract individually with its employees,
with each of the individual contracts being "enforceable" to the same degree
a collective-bargaining agreement is. In addition, a public employer can
certainly offer the selfsame terms and conditions of employment to similarly
situated employees as individuals, without any union’s being consulted.
So, Justice Brennan’s "compelling"
governmental interest in exclusive representation reduces to nothing more
than the silly truism that the government has a "compelling" interest in
recognizing an exclusive representative for its employees where the government
has an interest in reaching an enforceable agreement with such a representative,
because the government can reach such an agreement only if it recognizes
such a representative. But why and under what conditions the government
has an interest in reaching such a monopolistic agreement, and on what
logically independent grounds that interest is "compelling" (if it is),
Justice Brennan did not explain.
In his dissent in Knight II,
Justice Stevens said that "[i]t is now settled law that a public employer
may negotiate only with the elected representative of its employees, because
it would be impracticable to negotiate simultaneously with rival labor
unions. See Abood v. Detroit Board of Education, 431 U.S. at 224-26."
If Justice Stevens meant by "may" that "[i]t is now settled [constitutional]
law," one wonders what he meant by "now". Even had he meant that—for the
first time in history—Knight I so held, he would have been incorrect.
For the nonuniuon employees in Knight I never attacked exclusive
representation on the ground that public employers should be required,
or even free, to "negotiate simultaneously with rival labor unions". But
Justice Stevens did not rely, even erroneously, on Knight I. Rather,
his citation of Abood implied, if it did not assert, that Abood
had upheld exclusive representation as a matter of law. That, of course,
is not the case. In any event, the apocryphal holding Justice Stevens cited
is, to be charitable, foolish in the extreme in the face of the contention
made in Knight I that for a public employer to negotiate with any
union unconstitutionally abridges governmental and popular sovereignty
and political equality.
Justice Powell joined in Justice Stevens’
dissent. Yet, although the nonunion employees in Knight I had argued
that compulsory public-sector collective bargaining through exclusive representatives
is an unconstitutional delegation of governmental authority to private
parties, Justice Powell conveniently forgot his observations in Abood
that a "collective bargaining agreement to which a public agency is a party
* * * has all the attributes of legislation", and that "voters could complain
with force and reason that their voting power and influence on the [governmental]
decision making process ha[ve] been constitutionally diluted" by delegation
of power to a union. (Apparently, Justice Stevens forgot them, too.) How
Justice Powell could pinpoint this issue in Abood—where it was not
litigated—but could then put it aside entirely both in Knight I—where
it was the centerpiece of the litigation, and in Knight II—which
used Knight I as ersatz authority, passes understanding.
What comes out of all the opinions
in Knight II and the absence of an opinion in Knight I is
an evidently substantial and compelling desire on the part of the Justices
to say as little as possible about the issues Knight I raised, and
in Knight II to misdescribe Abood as having decided the constitutionality
of exclusive representation. No doubt, this desire was also quite rational,
in light of the extreme difficulty the Court would have had in explaining
away Schechter and Carter in Knight I. It was also
tactically adroit. A summary disposition by the Court is to be treated
narrowly, and does not carry with the Court itself as much weight
as a decision on the merits after full briefing and oral argument. However,
a summary disposition is purportedly fully binding on the inferior federal
and all State courts. So, by disposing of Knight I summarily,
the Court effectively scotched the issue of exclusive representation in
further litigation, but left itself free to bring up for review that issue,
or some aspect of it, later on if it turned out (as so far it has not)
that the Court’s imposition of an essentially fascist system on public-sector
employment exhibits some overly rough edges that the Court feels need filing
down.
Is the Supreme Court, then, to be charged
with duplicity with regard to its actions in Knight I and Knight
II? Perhaps this question can be answered by asking whether the Court
is to be charged with spreading disinformation on the subject thereafter.
This question can be answered by letting the reader draw his own conclusion
from Chicago Teachers Union, Local No. 1 v. Hudson. In Justice
Stevens’ majority opinion in that case, the Court asserted, without qualification,
that in Abood "[w]e * * * rejected the claim that it was unconstitutional
for a public employer to designate a union as the exclusive collective-bargaining
representative of its employees, and to require nonunion employees, as
a condition of employment, to pay a fair share of the union’s cost of negotiating
and administering a collective-bargaining agreement". Of course, as explained
above, in Abood there was no "claim that it was unconstitutional
for a public employer to designate a union as the exclusive collective-bargaining
representative of its
employees"—no claim raised by the litigants,
no claim adjudicated by the Court.
Now, Justice Stevens, for one, had
sat on the very Court that had decided Abood. Had he, by the time
of Hudson, quite forgotten what Abood was about? If so, surely
he could have reread the opinions in Abood. And if that was not
enough to refresh his recollection, he could have consulted the briefs
in the Court’s archives. Perhaps he did not bother to do so. If he did,
and understood what he was reading, he chose to describe Abood in
a manifestly false way. But could Justice Stevens have written an opinion
for the Court based on honest confusion (let alone duplicitious misrepresentation)
about what Abood held, and still have had every other Justice of
the Supreme Court join or concur in that opinion without comment? Would
not honest confusion, let alone misrepresentation, have been corrected
before the opinion went to press?
That honest confusion about what Abood
held was not at work in Hudson can be surmised from the absence
in the latter decision of any citation of Knight I or Knight
II. Even a first-year law student, required in a moot-court exercise
to write a brief defending the constitutionality of public-sector exclusive
representation, would perforce cite Knight I, inasmuch as that is
the only case that ever brought the issue to the Supreme Court for
decision (notwithstanding that the Court dealt with in a summary fashion).
The student might not be able to defend the result in Knight I,
and surely would be unable to identify the chain of legal reasoning (if
any) along which the Court reached it. But he would doubtlessly cite the
case, or justifiably expect a low grade for his legal research. Why, then,
did none of the Justices in Hudson mention Knight I, instead
consigning it by silence to the status of a noncase (in the fashion of
an Orwellian nonperson)? Was it because, if Hudson had cited Knight
I, a legal researcher reading Hudson might have been stimulated
to look up the details of Knight I in the briefs submitted in that
case, and doing so would have seen what a utter, indefensible travesty
that decision was? And therefore was it more politic and less embarrassing
for the Court to attribute (even falsely) to Abood what Knight
I did? After all, a legal researcher who began his search with Hudson
and then turned to Abood, as Hudson seemed to direct him,
might conclude that he could not understand how the Hudson Court
had concluded that Abood had upheld exclusive representation when
exclusive representation was not at issue there. But, notwithstanding that
anomaly, the researcher might nevertheless simply write the whole matter
off, accepting what amounted to a fait accompli, and thereafter
himself citing Abood (on the arbitrary authority of Hudson)
as the case that upheld exclusivity, without ever knowing of, let alone
investigating, Knight I. In that way, in the real world of practical
litigation the Supreme Court would succeed in covering up the whole tortuous
history of exclusive representation from Schechter and Carter
to Knight I and Knight II. Is that, however, what the Court
did? Let the reader judge for himself. Surely, though, this explanation
is not without precedent. Bigger and more consequential official cover-ups
have taken place in American history.
A final piece of evidence supporting
the theory of cover up is Justice Blackmun’s plurality opinion in Lehnert
v. Ferris Faculty Association in which he correctly stated that
"in Abood * * * this Court addressed the constitutionality of union-security
provisions in the public-employment context", mentioning nothing about
exclusive representation. Between Hudson and Lehnert, did
the Court learn something about Abood that it had not known when
it decided Hudson? Or was it that, by the decision in Lehnert,
the Justices felt that no further mention of the Abood legend about
exclusive representation was necessary? By Lehnert, the matter could
be left where it lay. Who, after all, would ever bring it up again?
II. The twisted peregrinations
of the "labor-peace" theory through the judicial underbrush described heretofore
should suffice to discredit both that theory and the people who promulgated
it. It would not, however, be amiss to address the demerits of the theory
in some further detail, to cast the last shovelful of dirt on its grave.
As the Supreme Court’s opinions show,
there are basically two branches to the "labor-peace" theory: The first,
advanced during the period of chaotic economic and social conditions in
the 1930s, asserts that, unless employers are compelled to accept the procedure
of collective bargaining with unions through exclusive representation,
violent strikes and other forms of labor unrest will ensue, with calamitous
economic and social consequences. For examples—
[T]he meeting of employers
and employees at the conference table is a powerful aid to industrial peace.
[The] provisions [of the RLA]
are aimed at the settlement of industrial disputes by the promotion of
collective bargaining * * * .
[T]he recognition of the right
of employees to self-organization and to have representatives of their
own choosing for the purpose of collective bargaining is often an essential
condition of industrial peace. Refusal to confer and negotiate has been
one of the most prolific causes of strife.
The practice and philosophy
of collective bargaining looks with suspicion on * * * individual advantages.
* * * [A]dvantages to individuals may prove as disruptive of industrial
peace as disadvantages.
This branch of the theory essentially
employs the threat of violent "labor unrest" to rationalize the imposition
on employers and nonunion employees of the process of collective bargaining
itself—backed up, of course, by the violence of the government if the victims
protest. Intellectually, it is akin to the "protection racket".
The second, contemporary branch of
the theory of "labor peace" is that exclusive representation is necessary
to avoid practical problems that would arise if compulsory collective bargaining
were applied in situations where more than one union attempted to represent
employees. For examples—
The designation of a single
representative avoids the confusion that would result from attempting to
enforce two or more agreements specifying different terms and conditions
of employment. It prevents inter-union rivalries from creating dissension
within the work force and eliminating the advantages to the employees of
collectivization. It also frees the employer from the possibilty of facing
conflicting demands from different unions, and permits the employer and
a single union to reach agreements and settlements that are not subject
to attack from rival labor organizations.
[E]xclusion of the rival union may reasonably
be considered a means of insuring labor peace within the schools. The policy
"serves to prevent the * * * schools from becoming a battlefield for inter-union
squabbles."
The goal of reaching agreement makes
it imperative for an employer to have before it only one collective view
of its employees when "negotiating."
[T]he use of an exclusive union representative
is permissible in the collective-bargaining context because of the State’s
compelling interest in reaching an enforceable agreement, an interest that
is best served when the State is free to reserve closed bargaining sessions
to the designated representative of a union selected by public employees.
It is now settled law that a public
employer may negotiate only with the elected representative of its employees,
because it would be impracticable to negotiate simultaneously with rival
labor unions.
This branch of the theory assumes a
political-economic consensus about the desirability of compulsory collective
bargaining in some form, and essentially uses the threat of "labor unrest"
to rationalize the imposition on employees of exclusive representation
in bargaining (Knight I) and other forums (Knight II).
Overall, it may be said that, with
the passing of the socio-economic conditions that made the first branch
of the "labor-peace" theory plausible (if not defensible), and with the
general acceptance or at least toleration of compulsory collective bargaining
(and, indeed, its promotion in the public sector) by the powers that be
in American society, the second branch of the theory has taken over the
duty of rationalizing compulsory collective bargaining and exclusive representation.
For example—
The confusion and conflict that could
arise if rival teachers’ unions, holding quite different views as to the
proper class hours, class sizes, holidays, tenure provisions, and grievance
procedures, each sought to obtain the employer’s agreement, are no different
in kind from the evils that the exclusivity rule in the Railway Labor Act
was designed to avoid. * * * The desirability of labor peace is no less
important in the public sector * * * .
Especially in the public sector, all these
rationalizations appear particularly thin and unconvincing in light of
the consequences of compulsory collective bargaining through exclusive
representation to nonunion employees, to public employers, to the electorate,
and to America’s entire legal, political, and economic systems. Moreover,
on analysis, these variants of the "labor-peace" theory can easily be exploded.
Initially, one would expect a heavy
burden of proof to fall on any litigant—let alone a court—advancing the
proposition that "labor peace" can be served through a scheme of collective
bargaining that forces employees to accept unions as their exclusive
representatives, and that forces employers to negotiate with those
unions. For common experience teaches that people forced to do something
they perceive as contrary to their interests rarely acquiesce in their
oppression, even though their resistance may under the exigencies of their
circumstances take only surreptitious forms. In none of the Supreme Court’s
labor-law decisions from the 1930s to the present day, however, has this
burden of proof ever been met—and Perry said that it need never
be met with real evidence.
Indeed, with so small a percentage
of union members among employees in the private sector, one must wonder
how anyone today could accept the airy assertion from the 1930s that "recognition
of the right of employees to self-organization and to have representatives
of their own choosing for the purpose of collective bargaining is often
an essential condition of industrial peace. Refusal to confer and negotiate
has been one of the most prolific causes of strife". Were that assertion
true, would not some species of anarchistic industrial strife be expected
to increase pari passu with decreases in union membership? And therefore
should not modern times be even more the stage for industrial strife than
ever the past was? The empirical evidence, though, does not validate this
prediction. Therefore, may not one reasonably conclude that the vogue for
compulsory unionism and other collectivistic solutions to economic problems
in the 1930s was probably rooted, not in some unprovable because nonexistent
cause-and-effect relationship between unionism and the economic welfare
of employees as a class, but rather in the dominant socialistic and fascistic
ideologies in which the Western world happened to be awash at that time,
but which have since been discredited except amongst university professors,
journalists, Hollywood glitterati, and (apparently) Justices of
the Supreme Court?
Indeed, in Hanson, the Court
in one of its more self-defining statements claimed that "[o]ne would have
to be blind to history to assert that trade unionism did not enhance and
strengthen the right to work. See Webb, History of Trade Unionism; Gregory,
Labor and the Law." Is one to conclude from this jejeune apercu that tens
of millions of American employees who reject union membership today are
simply "blind to history"—or, in the old Marxian verbiage, traitors to
their class? Or is it more likely that perhaps of somewhat dated and limited
vision were the Justices who cited as an authority Sidney Webb, the notorious
Fabian socialist and shameless apologist for Soviet Russia during the height
of Stalin’s murderous reign? And therefore may one not also conclude that
the Supreme Court’s original "labor-peace" apology for compulsory collective
bargaining, which Hanson accepted, was more heavily freighted with
tendentious theories deriving from the likes of Marx or Mussolini than
with arguments congenial to the genius of American constitutionalism and
individual freedom? That it was not some statement of enduring truth about
employment relations, but merely the echo of the evanescent politically
correct notions of an unsettled and confused time?
Interestingly, the Court seemed to
admit as much in Hanson, when it offered the observation that "[t]he
ingredients of industrial peace and stabilized labor-mangement relations
* * * may well vary from age to age and from industry to industry. What
would be needful one decade might be anathema the next." Is this observation—that
"[w]hat would be needful one decade might be anathema the next"—perhaps
the explanation for the Court’s tortuous, duplicitous path from Virginian
Railway, through Knight II, to Hudson—namely, that the
Court dared not openly address the issue of exclusive representation raised
in Knight I, because it knew of no cogent defense for a corporativistic
system of labor relations that, when honestly described, would find vanishingly
few defenders outside of people nostalgic for Roosevelt’s National Industrial
Recovery Act or Mussolini’s corporativism? Is Knight I a case in
which the Court, after having insinuated the perverse scheme of exclusive
representation into the law in earlier cases because the Justices thought
it was "needful one decade", finally was brought face to face with the
reality that that noxious principle is "anathema" to the basic precepts
of constitutional law (as Schechter and Carter had held)—but
then shrank from coming to grips with the problem, instead hiding behind
the pathetic, cowardly fiction that Abood had already decided the
issue?
Precisely how an advocate of compulsory
collective bargaining would go about proving a clear connection between
"labor peace" and compulsory collective bargaining through exclusive representation
is difficult to imagine. For labor unrest is inherent in the conception
and necessary in the operation of compulsory collective bargaining. Compulsory
collective bargaining is, after all, a thoroughly adversary process.
It presumes that employers and employees do not find themselves in a fundamentally
complementary and coöperative venture, but are to some significant
degree inherently in mutual opposition and disagreement because of what
are supposed to be naturally contrary interests. This is no accident, inasmuch
as compulsory collective bargaining embodies in statute form the ideology
of trade unionism, which at base rests on definite, if basically false,
class-warfare assumptions. In private employment, allowing unions and employers
to operate on these errant assumptions through mutual economic coercion
short of outright violence may perhaps be tolerable. In public employment,
however, such toleration is wholly out of place. For notions of class warfare
"on their face, obviously do not apply to the Government as an employer
or to relations between the Government and its employees".
Unions are nothing if not organizations
that specialize in mobilizing and motivating employees so as to focus their
wants and demands on recalcitrant employers. This may entail argument and
persuasion. But where argument and persuasion fail, as they often do in
a free society, unions inevitably turn to the tactics of pressure and force
quite alien to a free society, in order to coöpt or interfere with
the employers’ operations. The practical result of these tendencies is
that compulsory collective bargaining inexorably and unavoidably substitutes
relationships of power and coercion for relationships of
consent and coöperation—and, indeed, institutionalizes and legitimizes
conflict as a way of managing employment relations. Between employers and
employees, one of these power relationships is compulsory negotiations,
based on the coercion to bargain. Between union and nonunion employees
another of these power relationships is exclusive representation, based
on coercion, too. And between employers, nonunion employees, and the employers’
customers (in the public sector, the general public), on the one side,
and unions, on the other, a third power relationship is the strike, which
observers have long considered an indispensable adjunct of collective bargaining,
and which often (if not usually) involves coercion in its most naked and
repulsive forms.
In addition, compulsory collective
bargaining directly and intentionally interferes with and subverts the
symbiotic working relationship between employers and employees that is
necessary for true stability and effectiveness in labor relations. The
logic, and certainly the propaganda line, of compulsory unionism and collective
bargaining is that employees owe the employment benefits they enjoy primarily
to the unions that negotiate in their names. Bombarded with such ideas,
employees will naturally tend after a while to attach their loyalties to
the unions, rather than to their employers—or, in government employment,
to the public whom their employers serve and to the taxpayers who pay their
salaries. The latter is an especially perverse result. For every public
employee owes his first and undivided loyalty "directly, immediately, and
entirely" to the government and the public. "He has no other ‘client’ or
principal. He is a trustee of the public interest, bearing the burden of
great and total responsibility to his public employer."
From this perspective, then, the notion
that compulsory public-sector collective bargaining can bring about "labor
peace" is not simply an error, but a cruel joke. Where bargaining is premissed
upon conflict; where the unions’ success, and perhaps even survival, depends
upon creating, nurturing, and prosecuting conflict; where employees subordinated
to unions through exclusive representation will, in the nature of things,
come to identify their personal interests with the unions’ institutional
interests in creating and prosecuting employment conflicts—where all of
these conditions exist, how can such a system possibly not engender and
exacerbate labor dissatisfaction, unrest, and turbulence? Is it reasonable
to expect stability and effectiveness in labor relations to arise from
insinuating into the process private organizations self-interested in promoting
destabilization?
For this reason, one can easily see
through the contemporary "labor-peace" theory that "the use of an exclusive
union representative is permissible in the collective-bargaining context
because of the State’s compelling interest in reaching an enforceable agreement,
an interest that is best served when the State is free to reserve closed
bargaining sessions to the designated representative of a union selected
by public employees". Yes, this theory is rational. That, however, is not
an answer to, but a statement of, the problem. It is precisely in the rationality—the
workability—of this "labor-peace" theory that the danger lies. By creating
a system of compulsory collective bargaining that "reserve[s] closed bargaining
sessions to the designated representative of a union selected by public
employees", the government opens up a Pandora’s box of political as well
as economic troubles. By its very nature, compulsory collective bargaining
is the most proficuous means for promoting an insidious, subversive form
of "labor unrest" for which no remedy exists, because the "labor unrest"
has been duplicitously renamed as "peace", and institutionalized and legitimized
within the structure of public employment itself.
Thus it should be apparent that, in
principle, the "labor-peace" apology for compulsory collective bargaining
is a deceit. The full panoply of compulsory collective bargaining, exclusive
representation, and strikes is no matter of simply adding to the system
a process perfectly compatible with and supportive of the system, that
merely integrates employees, through their unions, into a coöperative
decision-making process with employers. Rather, it is a matter of reorienting
the system along entirely new lines of force. This is especially true in
the public sector, where, if "labor peace" can be bought by conceding to
unions the special privileges of exclusive representation, compulsory negotiations,
and strikes, the cost includes a radical transformation in the very structure
of government.
Schechter and Carter
made clear that schemes of exclusive representation constitute a delegation
of legislative power, even in the private sector. So, too, especially do
strikes in public employment. Traditionally, courts have recognized that
strikes by public employees contradict the fundamental principles that
the government’s duty is serve all the people all the time,
not to allow itself to become the pawn of any special-interest group, and
that public employees may not engage in conduct intended to subvert the
order and efficiency of the government’s operations. To these courts, public-employee
strikes amounted in practice to a delegation of governmental power from
public officials to union leaders, a delegation fundamentally at odds with
the very concept of government. No less a friend of labor unionism than
Franklin D. Roosevelt condemned strikes by public employees as
manifest[ing] nothing less
than an intent on their part to prevent or obstruct the operations of Government
until their demands are satisfied. Such action looking toward the paralysis
of Government by those who have sworn to support it, is unthinkable and
intolerable.
And even intellectuals otherwise favorable
to public-sector collective bargaining have long conceded that strikes
by public employees constitute a species of political force that transmogrifies
the political process by effectively transferring power from the public
to unions.
The overall effect of all this is what
Justice Powell touched on in Abood, when he observed that a "collective
bargaining agreement to which a public agency is a party * * * has all
the attributes of legislation", and that "voters could complain with force
and reason that their voting power and influence on the [governmental]
decision making process ha[ve] been constitutionally diluted" by delegation
of power to a union to participate in making such economic laws. But it
is also what the Supreme Court—including Justice Powell—refused to address
in Knight I, and what the Court, hiding behind the whispy smokescreen
of Abood, apparently intends never to talk about again. That is,
even knowing what was and remains at stake, the Supreme Court has knuckled
under to this truly revolutionary situation, not with a bang, not even
with a whimper, but simply with silence.
The silence of Knight I
is the most telling, the most damning, the most inexcusable, the most disgraceful
aspect of the whole affair. What is its explanation? Bias—that the Justices
harbored a strong prejudice in favor of compulsory unionism, growing out
of years of faulty education and mingling with a ruling class for which
corporativism, in operation if not in name, has become second nature? Cowardice—that
the Justices simply wanted to achieve "labor peace" for themselves—that
is, to avoid becoming the targets of attacks from the unions, the media,
and the intelligentsiia for exposing the corporative, anti-democratic
nature of compulsory public-sector collective bargaining, even if they
ruled in its favor? Both are likely. But the latter more so. For if the
Justices honestly believed—even wrongly, as the result of prejudice—that
compulsory public-sector collective bargaining through exclusive representation
is constitutional; if they believed Schechter, Carter, and
the doctrine of political equality to be somehow inapplicable to compulsory
bargaining—then why did they not simply say so openly in Knight I?
Why hide not only the reasons for their decision, but also even the particulars
of the issues to which that decision related? And then why camouflage the
whole matter by pretending that Abood had upheld exclusive representation,
consigning Knight I to the jurisprudential branch of Orwell’s Memory
Hole? The obvious answer to these questions is that a cover-up implies
a knowledge of guilt.
Americans will probably never know
the truth of this affair, because neither the Justices nor their clerks
are unlikely ever to "spill the beans". But Americans should keep this
shameful episode in mind when judging whether the Supreme Court can be
trusted. Not so much to do the right thing—that, after all, might be asking
too much. But just to tell the unvarnished truth about what it is doing.
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