The Chronicle of Higher Education
January 5, 2001
Anti-Sweatshop Groups Find It Difficult to Turn Campus
Idealism Into Real Change
MARTIN VAN DER WERF
On college campuses across America, where few get dirt
beneath their fingernails, middle-class students have for two
years been carrying signs, refusing food, or locking
themselves to buildings in the name of ending abuses in
overseas apparel sweatshops.
The protests have helped turn college administrators into
budding factory watchdogs. Now, however, as universities learn
more about what monitoring of manufacturers will require, they
are realizing that they are plunging into an underworld that
few could have imagined: far-flung factories, some of them
cities of 50,000 employees, where workers cannot expect a pair
of gloves when working with hot glues and burning solvents,
where fire exits -- if there is a fire exit at all -- are
blocked by supplies or heavy machinery, where women are
routinely sexually harassed and abused, and fired if they get
pregnant. And where local officials look the other way.
Two recent factory-monitoring pilot projects performed on
behalf of some universities show that workers' rights were
violated in every one of 18 factories examined in nine
nations, including the United States. There was no knowledge
at the factories of the push on American college campuses for
codes of conduct for manufacturers of clothing with college
logos. Workers often did not know that many of their own
employers have such codes.
"We were naive at the university level to think that we could
adopt a code, and it would automatically be adopted in the
world," says Rutledge Tufts Jr., the deputy to the vice
provost for auxiliary services at the University of North
Carolina at Chapel Hill. "We've been sitting back and saying,
'It looks like it's going to be harder than we thought,' but
we still don't think it's impossible."
Allan A. Ryan Jr., a lawyer for Harvard University, was more
blunt.
"For us to have any impact, it will have to be with partners,"
says Mr. Ryan. "You've got to sit down with manufacturers,
you've got to sit down with licensees, with labor unions, with
human-rights organizations. The capability of universities to
be able to do something simply as universities is really
questionable."
While college-licensed apparel is a $2.5-billion annual
industry, it makes up only about 2 percent of the American
clothing business.
Against that backdrop, the Fair Labor Association, an
establishment organization backed by a dozen major apparel
makers and many major universities, and the Worker Rights
Consortium, the choice of the student protesters, are trying
to gear up their monitoring efforts.
At a board meeting later this month, the labor association is
expected to certify its first group of monitors. Also, the
first applications from companies that want a declaration that
their products are produced "sweat-free" will likely be
accepted. Earning such a designation will take at least two
years.
Sam W. Brown Jr., the executive director of the labor
association, says he expects that "nearly every" factory that
is inspected will fail its standards. In theory, members of
the association will not do future business with companies
that fail to meet the standards.
"Everyone who is shocked when they see violations in factories
has not been in too many factories," says Mr. Brown. "The
changes that are made as a result of this process we are
entering will be very gradual."
The labor association will concentrate on getting monitors in
place in the 20 countries that produce about 80 percent of the
world's apparel. But it will be years before there is a
thorough, ongoing monitoring process set up in those nations,
Mr. Brown admits, and even longer before there is much
monitoring in nations where there are fewer factories.
The labor association has 144 American colleges and
universities as members, and the consortium has 66. Thirteen
institutions belong to both.
The Worker Rights Consortium is much slower to get going. The
organization, which had its founding conference in April,
named its executive director, Scott J. Nova, in December. Mr.
Nova is the former director of the Citizens Trade Campaign, a
coalition of labor, consumer, and environmental organizations
that has been an outspoken critic of the World Trade
Organization.
The consortium has been struggling for most of its existence
with just one full-time staff member. Frustration among its
members is beginning to show.
"It seems they could have accomplished more by now," says
Lawrence R. Mann, the associate chancellor at the University
of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, which is a member of the
group. "The W.R.C. has almost no resources. There is no staff
to carry out the wishes of the board. I think it's going to be
a long time, probably two years, before the W.R.C. will be in
much of a position of doing anything."
The consortium has an annual budget of about $400,000, while
the labor association's is $2-million.
Mr. Nova says he realizes that the organization needs to
establish a presence by starting to work in some overseas
factories. He is looking to hire a staff of four people, and
says the organization hopes to begin some monitoring in two or
three countries within "the next several months." But those
countries have not yet been picked.
During much of the 1999-2000 academic year, students battled
the administrations at numerous universities over the issue of
which organization to join. The students complained that the
Fair Labor Association is dominated and corrupted by the
apparel industry, because companies' representatives get six
of the 14 seats on the board of directors, while colleges get
only one representative. Six of the other seats go to
representatives of human and labor rights groups, and the
other member is the chairman, who is selected from outside the
other constituencies represented.
For the most part, the public skirmishes on college campuses
over the differing approaches of the two organizations have
come to an end. Leaders of United Students Against Sweatshops,
which is closely aligned with the consortium, say that is a
deliberate strategy. Although they do not rule out a return to
protests and civil disobedience if their goals are not met,
the organization is concentrating instead on strengthening
ties to labor organizations domestically and abroad, and
looking for students who are personally committed to the labor
struggle rather than the adrenaline of protesting.
"We're trying to change this from a one-issue campaign to
establishing a base that can be influencing human-rights and
labor campaigns 10 years from now," says Eric Brakken, a
national organizer for United Students Against Sweatshops,
which is based in Washington. "We're only a two-year-old
organization, and we want to make sure we're not just an
isolated student movement, but make sure we are recognized by
other organizations that have similar interests."
The anti-sweatshop group has opened a field office in
Guatemala that is focused on creating ties with local
human-rights organizations. Domestically, it is becoming more
involved in labor issues on campuses, says Mr. Brakken,
supporting job actions by janitors, food-service workers, and
others in low-paying positions, and backing unionization
efforts by graduate assistants.
The single notable protest this fall was at the University of
Arizona, where eight students were arrested in November after
locking themselves to the doors of the main administrative
building, blocking access to it for much of a workday.
Protesters say they are trying to convince the university that
it should leave the labor association and belong only to the
consortium. The university belongs to both groups.
Peter Likins, the president, says he thought he had been
working constructively with sweatshop protesters, and found
the protest to be offensive and counterproductive. "There is
absolutely no way that demonstrating on campus will force me
to leave the F.L.A.," says Mr. Likins. "I don't believe it is
a healthy thing for students generally, or for society
generally, to believe this kind of acting out will achieve its
purposes."
Mr. Likins signed an agreement with protesting students in
1999 that the university would leave the labor association if
it does not, among other things, strive for workers to receive
a "living wage," carry out a policy of unannounced visits and
independent monitoring, and ensure equal pay for women. He
admits that the association has not met all of those goals.
"If 12 months from now, they don't have anyone in the field
yet, I would start hammering them," says Mr. Likins. "If the
field experience is full of what seems to be scandal and
cover-up, I would probably leave the F.L.A. But I am not ready
to make that judgment yet."
Mr. Likins, like many others, believes the problems in the
apparel industry are so pervasive that it will take many years
to make noticeable changes. The two recent monitoring reports
done for universities, both released in the fall, bear that
out.
One report, prepared for the Independent University
Initiative, said there were subpar working conditions in all
13 factories producing collegiate licensed apparel visited in
seven countries: China, El Salvador, Mexico, Pakistan, South
Korea, Thailand, and the United States.
Among other problems, the monitors found workers forced to
work extra hours, without compensation for overtime,
prohibitions on collective bargaining, wages below the local
legal minimum, discrimination against women, including lower
pay and forced pregnancy testing, and widespread health and
safety violations, including blocked fire exits, and cotton
respirators rather than ventilators for workers working with
harmful chemicals.
"The diffuse nature of apparel production hinders enforcement
of labor standards," says the report. In addition, there are
local laws that work against some of the provisions of the
code of conduct. For example, in Thailand and South Korea, the
maximum allowed work week is longer than the 60 hours
stipulated by many codes. And in China, independent labor
unions are illegal.
The Independent University Initiative is made up of Harvard
and Ohio State Universities, and the Universities of
California at Berkeley, Michigan at Ann Arbor, and Notre Dame.
The second report, conducted by Verite, a nonprofit monitoring
firm, brought officials into factories where goods are
produced for the brand names College Concepts, Gear for
Sports, M.J. Soffe, JanSport, and Zephyr Graf-X. Each company
selected one factory to be visited. They were located in Costa
Rica, El Salvador, Mexico, South Korea, and Taiwan.
The report was done on behalf of Boston College, Duke and
Georgetown Universities, and the Universities of North
Carolina at Chapel Hill, Southern California, and Wisconsin at
Madison.
In the report, the auditors made an initial visit to the
factories, documented deficiencies in conditions, relayed them
to the licensees, and then revisited the factories six to
seven months later to see if the problems had been addressed.
One of the licensees declined to allow the monitors back into
the El Salvador factory, so only the other four factories were
visited twice.
Again, monitors found some problems in every factory,
including failure to post codes of conduct or company
personnel policies, a requirement that workers reach
production quotas before they can qualify for overtime pay,
sexual harassment, and discrimination against pregnant women.
Some of the problems had been resolved, but others were not
fixed by the second visit.
Verite has been getting a lot of attention for its monitoring
efforts. Founded in 1995, and now the largest nonprofit
organization devoted to monitoring, it emphasizes the primacy
of employee interviews as the best gauge of factory
conditions, and now operates in 50 countries. "We have gotten
into 700 factories now, and we are building a worldwide
database," says Heather White, the company's founder.
However, the reports Verite does for companies are not made
public. Ms. White says she supports public disclosure of
reports if the industry is eventually going to be cleaned up.
While Verite received permission from the factories to
publicize its report for universities, in general, Ms. White
says, "our only way to get access to factories is to agree
reports will not be released publicly." Stipulations that all
reports be made public, which is a requirement of the Workers
Rights Consortium, are "unrealistic," she says, at least for
now.
Most of the major accounting and consulting companies,
including KPMG and Ernst & Young, have also started
factory-monitoring practices, but the largest monitoring
effort is by PricewaterhouseCoopers.
That company, however, was heavily criticized for its
monitoring by Dara O'Rourke, an assistant professor of urban
studies and planning at the Massachusetts Institute of
Technology. Mr. O'Rourke, who has inspected more than 100
factories as a consultant for the United Nations and the
Swedish and Dutch governments, accompanied monitors from
PricewaterhouseCoopers while they visited two factories in
China and South Korea for the Independent University
Initiative report.
He reported that the monitors got almost all of their
information from managers rather than workers. No effort was
made to gather information from workers at their homes or
other gathering places -- only inside the factories. They also
missed glaring safety issues, such as workers wearing
flip-flop sandals around hot-dye machines.
Officials at the accounting firm have denied the allegations,
but admitted that their monitoring system needs improvement,
and continues to evolve. Mr. O'Rourke also questions the
operations of Verite, which is paid by apparel manufacturers
for its inspections. Ms. White says the organization tries to
avoid conflicts of interest because of its nonprofit status,
and it tries to get operating support equally from three
sources: fees for its inspections, foundation grants, and
private contributions. She says 2000 was the first year in
which Verite achieved the equal tripartite financing.
The Independent University Initiative report concludes that
"there are no perfect companies to license your logo to, no
perfect monitors to oversee these licensees, and no perfect
monitoring systems."
The report recommends several ways in which universities could
contribute to changes, such as educating workers about their
rights, testing new methods for workers to report problems at
factories, or translating audits of factories into the native
language of workers and giving them a chance to comment on the
findings. It recommends that universities might want to
consider cooperating to centralize production of their
licensed apparel because if there are fewer factories
producing it, they will be easier to monitor and colleges will
have more clout.
"Individual customers, especially universities, which often
have relatively small production runs, many times have limited
influence with factories, as their portion of the factory's
production represents a very small portion of the factory's
overall business," the report says.
Before colleges can start having more impact, though, they
must answer some questions that seem basic but are immensely
complex in the Third World.
No one really knows how many factories are producing
collegiate-licensed apparel, or even how that term should be
defined. Often, one factory produces the textiles, another
factory sews the clothing, and the apparel is silk-screened or
monogrammed in another factory. Yet another factory makes the
zippers. Sometimes, apparel is not produced in a factory at
all, but in individual homes, or by local residents working in
a common area as a cooperative. And so on. How many of those
workplaces should be, or can be, monitored?
How do you define a factory that is producing collegiate
apparel? Does it include one factory producing T-shirts for
one college for one day?
Right now, there are no answers.
Copyright 200 1
by The Chronicle of Higher Education
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