Talking Loud and Saying Nothing

I used to love me some JB. The funk. The precision. The songs: Papa Got a Brand New Bag. Sex Machine. Popcorn. Say it Loud: I'm Black and I'm Proud. And, then, one of my all time Favs: Talking Loud and Saying Nothing. I'll get back to JB in a minute. In the meantime, hang with this:

I was schooling this young sister about the subject matter that appears in your basic, run-of-the mill class in macroeconomics: Unemployment, Inflation, Gross Domestic Product, the Federal Reserve, Government Debt and Deficits, Trade and, of course, monetary and fiscal policy. Nothing really cutting edge. Just your standard macroeconomic gruel.

She was probably mid-to-late twenties, with a couple of kids. And incredibly smart. Mastering the basic concepts seemed to come to her with ease, and she never held back from critical engagement, openly and thoughtfully quarreling with the text, and yes, even interrogating my own interpretations of macroeconomic events. And in some ways, she schooled me as much as I did her.

Her quest was to finally complete her degree—to grab that paper—in the hopes that it would open better employment opportunities. You know, the kind that would pay enough to live a dignified life, put food on the table, and provide her kids with some of the things she had to do without. Maybe even pay enough to purchase a home.

One of the amazing things about her was that, in addition to going to school full-time, she was also holding down a 40 hour per week job. Between kids, school, and employment she was carrying a lot of weight on her shoulders. The kind of weight that would cause many of us to crumble. I’m sure she wobbled under the weight. It’s hard to carry that kind of load lightly. It can break you. But, somehow, she managed to do just that. Sometimes—somehow— you just grit your teeth and do what you’ve got to do. Sometimes—somehow—you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, propelled by the possibility that, if you can just hold on, things will take a turn for the better. Sometimes they do and, well, sometimes they don’t.

But one of the things I remember about her is that a palpable fear had come to dominate her life. Not a fear about her kids, although she clearly worried about their well-being. Not about doing well in macroeconomics; she was crushing that. The fear that would always come up in our side conversations revolved around her job. She worked at the distribution system of a major corporation located in Dallas, Texas. So, what had her tied up knots and losing sleep? What had her sad and struggling everyday as the time to report to work drew near? What was it about her job that gave her the jitters? What was she afraid of?

She was afraid that work might make her sick.

Afraid that work might jeopardize the well-being of her kids.

Afraid that work might kill her.

She was afraid of COVID.

The joint where she worked was a large corporation listed on the Dow Jones Industrial Average—a stock market index that tracks the performance of 30 large companies listed on the U.S. stock exchange. Companies like Coca-Cola, Home Depot, Microsoft, McDonald’s, Nike, Verizon, and Walmart. And she was convinced that her employer didn’t give much of a damn about the safety and the health of the workforce. And that frightened her immensely. She, like the other workers, was expected to just show up and put the work in. But the word was that some co-workers had caught a case of COVID, and a few were listed on that “did not make it list.” A few were now part of that 190,000 folk who had got checked out by COVID. And in some of our conversations, she made this absolutely clear:

She did not want to die for the Dow.

So, why didn’t she just raise up? Why didn’t she vocalize her concern to her supervisor and demand working conditions that would at least ease her mind somewhat about catching a case of COVID? Why was she spending her spit on me? Why didn’t she just tell everybody at her worksite that she had no desire to die for the Dow?

Why?

Well, probably because she needed the gig. Probably because, as a single mom with kids, she needed some cash flowing in. Probably because hungry mouths need to be fed and rent ain’t free. Probably because she couldn’t run the risk of having no health benefits. And perhaps even because of another kind of fear—a fear that compounded the fear of catching COVID. The fear of being reprimanded by her supervisors; a fear that if she complained too much, that if she complained too loudly, that she some retaliation would reign down upon her that was wasn’t ready for.

RUNNING THE RISK OF RETALIATION

And there’s evidence that such fear is justified. There’s evidence that if you act like you don’t want to die for the Dow, you just might be running the risk of retaliation. Don’t think so? Well, consider this:

Several months ago, in June 2020, the National Employment Law Project (NELP) released the results of a survey that showed that retaliation against whistleblowers in workplace in the workplace is thing. 12.5 percent of survey respondents reported they felt that their complaints about workplace safety during the current pandemic resulted in employer retaliation. What’s more, Black workers were more than twice as likely as Whites to have seen possible retaliation by their employer.

Such retaliation spans the gamut, running from being shunted to working the most undesirable hours, increasing the pace at which you’re expected to work, getting talked down to, scrutinizing your every move and , yes, even getting canned because you’re concerned about COVID and actually have the audacity to think that your employer has an obligation to minimize the misery of gigging in a dangerous environment.

Take, for instance, the recent complaints lodged by workers in a MARS warehouse. If you don’t know what or who MARS, Inc. is, do this: Think Milky Way. Think Skittles and Snickers. Think Twix and M&M’s. And, for good measure, throw Uncle Ben in the mix. Not up for possibly dying for the Dow, a group of warehouse workers protested and signed a petition demanding, among other things, that the employer provide hazard pay and proper personal protective equipment. According to an attorney working with the group of protesting workers, the company “ took retaliatory actions, ranging from termination to threats of discipline against floor workers because they stood up and demanded hazard pay and other improvements to workplace conditions during COVID.”

Or, how about the case of Lizzet Aguiliar,? Not down for dying for the Dow, Ms. Aquilar participated in a four-day strike against Mickey D’s, demanding that the employer provide protective equipment and devise ways to enforce social distancing to prevent possibly becoming infected with COVID. After the strike, says Ms. Acquilar, her supervisor increasingly yelled at her, demanded that she work faster, and instructed other employees not to help her out. So, yeah, worker complaints are sometimes met with retaliation from employers.

AND OSHA IS AWOL

All of this is compounded by the Department of Labor’s Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) failure to protect the health of workers at risk of contracting, and possibly dying from, COVID. Just in case you don’t know, OSHA’s stated mission is to “assure safe and healthy working conditions for working men and women.” But in this age of COVID OSHA is missing in action. Sure, they publish and distribute goo gobs of publications, videos, and guidelines about protecting workers from contracting COVID in the workplace. Do a quick google search and stuff like this will pop up, all courtesy of OSHA:

COVID19: Control and Prevention

Prevent Worker Exposure to Coronavirus

Ten Steps All Workplace Can Take to Reduce Risk of Exposure to Coronavirus.

And:

Manufacturing Workers and Employers: Interim Guidance from CDC and Occupational Safety and Health Administration

The stuff goes on ad infinitum. And if one thing that’s clear, it’s this: OSHA is big on issuing and distributing guidelines. Now, don’t get me wrong: Guidelines are important. It makes a great deal of sense to share info on how to minimize exposure to COVID in the workplace. Sickness might be averted, and lives might be saved. But while OSHA is long on guidelines, they’re short on enforcement. Guidelines sans enforcement, guidelines sans stiff penalties for violations, is akin to what James Brown called “talking loud and saying nothing”:

You're like a dull knife

Just ain’t cutting

Just talking loud

And:

Saying Nothing.

Take, for instance, the example of Smithfield Foods, a U.S. based global company that produces, packages, and distributes a variety of meat products. Ever chomped down on a Nathan’s hotdog? Think Smithfield. Ever been in the meats section of your fav grocery store and peeped labels such as Armour, Farmland, Gwaltney, and Healthy Ones? That’s Smithfield, too. In fact, if you’ve ever been to a barbecue, a grocery store, or an amusement park, then there’s a pretty good chance you’ve encountered some Smithfield stuff, the company that brags about how they’re supposedly committed to responsibly producing good food.

Apparently, that hype about responsibility falls short when it comes to protecting workers from exposure to COVID. Smithfield’s Sioux Falls, South Dakota pork processing plant has been the site of more than 1,200 cases of COVID contraction, with four workers having died from that contraction. And you know what OHSA did? They fined the company $13,394. Yeah, you heard that right. $13,394. Less than $14,000 for failing to adequately protect workers from exposure to COVID. Less than $14,000 for a company that banked $1.4 billion in profits during the previous year. That’s a slap so slight it’s insufficient to cause a serious change in employer behavior. That’s a life that don’t cut.

What’s more, OSHA also recently announced a fine against JBS, the largest meat producer in the world. Like Smithfield, you can’t but help to know some of their product. Think SWIFT. Think PILGRIMS. Think Blue Ribbon. Thus far, JBS’s plant in Greeley, Colorado has lost at least eight persons to COVID. In response to the company’s failure to sufficiently protect its workforce from COVID, OSHA dropped a $15, 165 fine on this wealthy and powerful giant. They not playing around, right? A whole $15,000. Imagine that. Seriously, though, if that’s the “cost of doing business,” then that’s easy enough for a large corporation to eat and pretty much continue doing what it’s doing.

Isn’t this something? In the largest pandemic that has confronted OSHA since its 1971 founding, the federal agency responsible for insuring the health and safety of the workplace is out here dropping dimes, not dollars, on some of the largest corporations ignoring its mandate to protect the well-being of workers.

And there’s at least two more things worth mentioning. First, not only is OSHA dropping dimes rather than dollars; OSHA also ain’t exactly kicking in doors to do site investigations of worker complaints. Between March and mid-September, the agency received almost 9,000 complaints from workers fearing that they might end up dying for the DOW. Only about 184 of these complaints resulted in workplace investigations. Second, don’t think for one minute that this is an issue confined to the world of meat processors. Sure, they’re a huge problem. But workers have also lodged complaints against Amazon, transit systems, hospitals, and postal delivery, just to name a few. So, again, it’s a thing. Worker’s don’t want to die for the DOW, and OSHA is doing next to nothing to prevent that from happening.

A KNIFE THAT DON’T CUT

But there’s a larger story here. Larger than the student I mentioned above. Larger than the young sister flipping burgers or serving fries at Micky D’s. Larger than the workers scared to death of catching a case of COVID. And even larger than OSHA’s abysmal failure to clamp down on employers who fail to provide healthy and safe work environments. This is a story about the refusal of this nation to protect and promote the human dignity of workers in this country. It’s a story about what happens when you prioritize profits over people. It’s a story about the pain and tragedy involved when people are compelled to choose between health and economic security. Between the DOW and the duty we all feel to provide for ourselves and our loved ones. It’s a story about a nation that, quite frankly, couldn’t care less for the least of these. And it’s a story that ought to challenge all persons of good will to double down on fighting with, for, and besides workers. The people who deliver our mail. The people who package the foods that end up on our tables or our grills. The people who serve us in untold ways. Because when we fail to do that, when we refuse to double down for people who don’t want to die for the Dow, then, yeah, may JB’s words haunt us and refuse to allow us a moment of peace:

You’re like a dull knife

Just ain’t cutting

Just talking loud

And:

Saying Nothing.

Catch you on the flip side,

Doc Greene