After my last
rather gloomy post, today there is some good news. I’ve posted elsewhere about
the rise of uberfication
and the gig economy, and also about how this links to supposed
‘self-employment’, which is really employment shorn of any protections. (I
do not write about this in the current edition of the book, but it will be
covered in the
fourth edition, which comes out next month).
Today, the
company after which the phenomenon was named, taxi app firm Uber, was subject
to a significant
ruling by a UK employment tribunal. Specifically, Uber was told that it
cannot treat its drivers as self-employed, and must pay them the national living
wage and holiday pay, and possibly even pensions. The ruling (which is likely
to be appealed against by Uber) will, if it stands, have significant
implications for other companies operating the same or similar business models.
As the lawyer representing the drivers who brought the case (with the support
of the GMB union) said:
“This is a
ground-breaking decision. It will impact not just on the thousands of Uber
drivers working in this country, but on all workers in the so-called gig
economy whose employers wrongly classify them as self-employed and deny them
the rights to which they are entitled.”
This ruling
comes at a significant time, politically. In both the EU Referendum (and for
those interested in Brexit, do take a look at my Brexit blog tracing
developments) and, even more, the US presidential race, the issue of how
changing work practices erode security has been an issue. More widely, this
connects with the political consequences of globalization and the hollowing out
of middle class employment.
Of course,
even on minimum wage and protection terms, employment remains a far cry from
the post-war social democratic model of secure employment with a social welfare
net. Even so, the ruling suggests that the direction of travel need
not inevitably be downwards, and that globalization and technology are not
forces of nature but may be corralled by politics and legislation. As I argue
throughout my book, what happens in organizations is not pre-ordained but is an
outcome of the choices we, collectively, make about how to live.
Today’s post
is prompted by the story this week that Hillary
Clinton has had to take time off from campaigning because she has pneumonia.
In fact, she only took four days off – which, frankly, seems very little to
recover from pneumonia - but this has been seized on by her political opponents
as evidence that she is not up to the job of US President.
Although the
political reasons for this are obvious, it seems to me to fit with a wider
issue of the way that in the UK, at least, going off sick is frowned upon, and
worse. It can be taken as a sign of unreliability and lack of commitment. The Sports
Direct scandal revealed exactly this, with sick leave being counted against
workers, who as a result were too scared to take it. But that case is the tip
of a much larger iceberg. A 2015
survey found that one in four British workers were too afraid to take time
off when ill, and the study suggests that they are much less likely to do so than
workers in some other countries: in 2015 8.9% of British workers took more than
8 days sick leave compared with 25.3% of German workers.
If we
discount the idea that the British are inherently healthier than the Germans,
then it seems obvious that what is at issue is the politics and culture of work.
Organizationally, it links to the more brutal management and work conditions in
Britain, including the precarious employment terms discussed in my
last post. Certainly self-employed
workers take about half as much time off sick as those in employment.
British politicians
routinely berate the public sector in particular for having higher levels of
sick leave than the private sector even though both
have fallen steadily for the last 20 years according to the Office for National
Statistics. But Stephen Bevan of the Work Foundation and Lancaster
University Management School explains that this
difference (7.9 days per year in the public sector versus 5.5 days in the
private sector) can easily be understood. It isn’t that public sector
workers are malingerers, but a combination of the demographics, the more risky
occupations and the better recording of sick leave that exist within the public
sector.
In addition
to this, I think that there is a very macho issue around taking sick leave.
This seems evident in the debate about
Hillary Clinton illness but, more generally in the sense that it is somehow
‘soft’ or ‘wimpy’ to ‘give in’ and take time off. Real men power on through it.
The UK statistics bear this out, with women
losing 2.6% of working hours to sickness compared with 1.6% for men (2013
figures).
It seems
unlikely to me that it is any better for businesses than for individuals to
work when they are sick. They are likely to be less productive, and to infect
other workers. With the weather in Britain today having taken a decisive turn
to autumn, we are now entering the season of coughs and colds. Personally, I
find it intensely unpleasant if the people at work, in shops or on public
transport are spluttering and sneezing all over me. In 1945 there was a
splendidly amusing public information film (you can see it here)
warning that ‘coughs and sneezes spread diseases’ and instructing people to use
a handkerchief. Well, that’s fine so far as it goes, but much better for all
concerned to stay off sick until you get better, and for employers to support
that.
There has
been a
huge – 20% - rise in the number of workers in the UK on Zero Hours Contracts
(ZHCs) in the last year, bringing the total to about 900,000. It’s telling that
in the third edition of my book, published in 2012 but mainly written in 2011 I
did not mention ZHCs, which at that time were much less common and there were
perhaps only 200,000 workers on them in the UK. That is remedied in the fourth
edition that will be out later this year, of course, but even that will not
take account of this latest surge.
Lauded as
offering ‘flexibility’ for individuals, ZHCs are all about flexibility for
organizations: there are no guaranteed hours, it is labour on demand. And
although in the public mind they are associated with low-skill jobs like
cleaning and catering, they are also common in professional occupations such as
teaching and airline pilots.
It’s become
obligatory to say that ZHCs suit some people, but to foreground that is to
de-emphasise that in most cases they do not, and are a source of miserable
insecurity (for some experiences see here
and here).
But recently published research shows that they are also bad from a business
point of view, in terms of contributing to the long-term productivity problem
of UK business (Rubery,
Keizer & Grimshaw, 2016).
The worst
kinds of ZHCs – so-called exclusive ZHCs, which prevent workers taking
employment with other employers – have been banned in the UK. And, under great
political pressure, retailer Sports Direct (where over
90% of staff are on ZHCs) has
announced this week that it will give its employees (but not agency staff)
a choice between a ZHC and a guaranteed hours contract. But ZHCs are illegal
in New Zealand and (with some complexity of definition) in many
European countries.
Whilst ZHCs
have received a lot of media and political attention, what is perhaps even more
significant is the
rise in self-employment. This connotes an image of small entrepreneurs and
sturdy self-reliance of the sort lauded by free market ideologues. In fact, it
is largely to do with companies employing people as independent contractors –
often, people who were hitherto employees of the same companies they now
contact to – and the rise of the gig, or uber, economy. There are perhaps 5
million people in the UK who are self-employed.
I know from personal experience what the
insecurity of self-employment means because my father, after he left the army,
was a self-employed driving instructor during my childhood. That encompassed
periods when anything from illness to a heavy snowfall to the petrol shortages
during the 1973 oil
crisis, and in those periods he had no income and no savings and the
consequence was that our family had – almost literally - no food. But what I remember more from
those times than the lack of food is the pervasive worry that tomorrow there
would be no food at all. Nowadays, I’m insulated from such insecurity but when
I contribute to the local foodbank it’s because I remember what it means. In
the UK currently there are a million
people a year who use foodbanks, although this is probably an
underestimate. One of the key drivers is reported to be ‘insecure
work arrangements’ including ZHCs.