Once butchered to the right size, meat is wrapped and shipped to
stores, wholesalers and distributors or to other Smithfield plants for
processing. It's no work for the queasy. Razor-sharp blades and
repetitive-motion injuries are constant worries. Union brochures carry
stories of workers hurt on the job and rushed back to the line. The
company counters that the plant's safety record is better than most
and that the number of job-related injuries and illnesses has fallen in
recent years. In 1998,19 out of every 100 workers reported injuries on
the job. Three years later, the number dropped below 10%. It has crept
into double digits only one year since. Industry averages ranged from
12% to 29%.
Smithfield officials tout the plant's economic benefit to the
region--a payroll of $150 million a year. "The wages we pay in that
facility are close to $2 an hour higher than poultry jobs in that same
part of North Carolina," Luter says. But the plant doesn't
fare so well in other comparisons. It draws more than 80% of its work
force from Bladen, Cumberland and Robeson counties. Its average wage of
$12.10 to $12.20 an hour for production workers is below Robeson's
average of $12.62, according to the most recent state Department of
Commerce estimate, and average wages in Cumberland and Bladen are even
higher.
Smithfield Foods has a history of dealing with unions stretching
back 30 years. Its oldest union shop is in its hometown. Roughly 40% of
its 53,000 employees are covered by collective-bargaining agreements
with five unions. According to Pittman, the Tar Heel plant's wages
are about the same as those in the other plants, which explains why some
workers don't want the UFCW: Why pay dues if you're already
making as much as union members? But for the company, it raises another
question: Why spend millions to keep the union out?
The Tar Heel plant plays a strategic role in the company's
business. It processes up to 32,000 hogs a day, 64% of Smithfield
Packing's total capacity. "If we had an extended strike in
that plant," Luter says, "we would have hogs backing up
throughout North Carolina or we would have to put hogs on trucks and
ship them to the Midwest." One reason Smithfield built such a
mammoth plant in Bladen County was its location. It's close to
Interstate 95, pig farmers in Eastern North Carolina and pork consumers
on the East Coast.
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
The company had been a small player until the 1980s. In 1981, it
bought Gwaltney, its main rival in Virginia, and doubled in size. Three
years later, it acquired Patrick Cudahy, a Wisconsin-based maker of
bacon, ham and sausage. At the same time, unions were losing their grip
on the industry, as high labor costs made producers such as Armour and
Swift vulnerable to new competition with leaner payrolls and heavier
investment in machinery. Half the workers in meatpacking were union
members in the early '80s, according to a U.S. Department of
Agriculture report in 2000 on consolidation in the industry. "By
1987, union membership in meatpacking had fallen to a fifth of the work
force, where it has remained."
Without having to deal with union work rules, the upstart companies
could automate more of the process, speed up lines and keep down wages.
Between 1977 and 2007, U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics figures show, the
average pay for production workers in animal slaughtering and processing
plummeted from 4% below the national average for manufacturing
production workers to more than 30%. It became "a job of last
resort," Horowitz says. "The work force changes, and you have
this huge influx of immigrant workers."
While this was happening, Smithfield was vertically integrating
operations by raising as well as slaughtering hogs. In 1987, it launched
a joint venture with Carroll's Foods of Virginia in Warsaw. In
1992, it purchased a majority stake in Brown's of Carolina in
Kenansville. Hog production across North Carolina grew from 4.5 million
head in 1992, the year the plant opened, to 9.3 million just four years
later. Owning hogs from "squeal to meal" helps a processor
control quality and build its brand, Horowitz says.
"They have more control over the input that they're
getting than Oscar Mayer and Hormel. That allows them certain
efficiencies in production and manufacturing because they don't
have to worry about variations in supply." But unlike pure meat
processors, which can withstand a strike by ceasing to buy hogs, the
company is at a disadvantage, he says. "Smithfield, by creating
this integrated structure, is much more vulnerable. If they can't
keep operating, they have this huge inventory, which just tears their
cash up."
So far, Smithfield has kept organized labor at bay in Tar Heel.
When the union filed charges with the NLRB after losing the 1994
election, the company agreed to another vote. Losing in '97, the
UFCW again turned to the NLRB, which ruled in 2004 that Smithfield had
violated labor law in both contests. In '94, the company had
threatened to fire workers, confiscated union literature and intimidated
employees while it was distributed. The '97 campaign, the board
found, had been worse--violations included assaulting a worker and
threatening to freeze wages and to close the plant. It ordered a new
election and made the company display a sign saying it had been found
guilty of labor-law violations and listing more than 30 things it has
promised not to do.
When the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia upheld the
decision in 2006, the company gave up the legal fight. Luter won't
talk much about the '97 election. "Let's just say that
some of the advice we got from outside people 10 years ago was probably
not some of the best advice we got." When pressed about the advice,
he says, "I'd rather not go there. It's a new day."
Luter, 43, has been president of Smithfield Packing since 2004. His
great-grandfather and grandfather founded the company in 1936. His
father, Joseph Luter III, is chairman of Smithfield Foods and was the
holding company's CEO since it was founded in 1975 to 2006, when he
turned the job over to Larry Pope.
That it took the NLRB seven years to act is no surprise, Horowitz
says. Weakened during the Reagan Administration, the labor board has
never regained its strength. "Routinely, what has gone on in the
last 25 years is companies violate the law in union organizing drives
and trust that, if they lose, enough time passes between the violations
and the ruling that the union is unable to recover." As evidence
that Smithfield isn't anti-union, Luter points to an election last
year at a distribution center in Clayton that the Steel Workers union
won by two votes. "It was very close, but they won, so we're
in discussions with them right now."
Keith Ludlum, a UFCW organizer who has been fired by Smithfield
twice--he was reinstated by the NLRB once and is contesting the
second--says there's a world of difference between accepting union
representation for 119 employees in a warehouse operation and doing it
for more than 4,500 hourly workers in the main slaughterhouse. In March,
Smithfield Packing announced it was closing a smoked-ham factory in
Kinston--the only union shop among its six wholly owned processing
plants in North Carolina. Pittman says the move is to improve efficiency
and is not an anti-union maneuver. The plant is 60 years old; some of
the jobs are heading for another union shop.
Winning a third election might keep out the union, but company
executives shouldn't expect such a victory to end the war.
Reflecting on the previous votes, Pittman makes an observation that
mirrors Horowitz's from the opposite view. "If you're
familiar with campaigns and labor law, every time a union loses a
campaign, they file unfair labor practices. It's just part of their
job. They're supposed to file charges if they don't win."
There's just too much on the line, it seems, for either side to
give up.
RELATED ARTICLE
SMITHFIELD FOODS INC.
Headquarters: Smithfield, Va.
Founded: 1936
Employees: 53,100
Represented by union: 22,000
Sales: $11.9 billion
Net income: $166.8 million
Source: Company, fiscal 2007
OPERATING PROFIT
(millions)
Pork $228.0
Hog production 211.4
International 38.3
Beef 5.7
Other 40.9
Source: Smithfield Food, fiscal 2007
LACKING ORGANIZATION
Last year, workers in North Carolina had the lowest rate of union
membership in the country.
Union membership
1 North Carolina 3.0%
2 Virginia 3.7
3 South Carolina 4.1
4 Georgia 4.4
5 Texas 4.7
6 Idaho 5.3
Tennessee 5.3
8 Arkansas 5.4
9 Louisiana 5.6
10 Utah 5.8
Source: U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2007
COPYRIGHT 2008 Business North
Carolina Reproduced with permission of the copyright holder. Further reproduction or distribution is prohibited without permission.
Copyright 2008 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights
reserved. Gale Group is a Thomson Corporation Company.
NOTE: All illustrations and photos have been removed from this article.