More union propaganda. Unions, in and of themselves, are neither good nor bad. Organizing the working people to protect themselves from what may otherwise be little more than a form of serfdom, forced upon individuals by a cruel and miserly employer, who knows that there is NO other place to find any kind of gainful employment, would appear to make some kind of sense.
In a closed society, there may not be any other opportunities. But in an open society, with incentives being rewarded to those who would take risks to provide goods or services that are in demand, and accept success or failure based on the market, the basis for employment expands oar contracts according to the size (or lack of) that demand.
Labor is fungible. It must adapt to what may be shifting skill sets over time, and some skills are simply no longer needed, while other skills are held in such demand that wage negotiations are meaningless. Here is where union negotiations fail - they try to protect jobs that have no longer any application in the work place. As such, the “negotiations” are more to protect some number of paychecks regardless of the productivity of the individual employee, essentially a form of welfare, and depending on the previous accumulation of wealth by the interests that provide the employment, may or may not continue for a period of time. Sooner or later, if the employee is not producing enough in goods or services to cover the cost of maintaining his described job, the job is going to be eliminated, and the individual is discharged, by firing, voluntary quit, or some form of retirement, and no replacement is ever hired.
Root, hog, or die. A hard truth, but one that ruthlessly keeps asserting itself in hard times.
And hard times are the most common lot of all mankind since the beginning of time.
There should be more exhortation to being an entrepreneur. A job should be a temporary thing until you find something you can turn into a business.
At 55 years of age, I'm just now coming around to that reality. After 30 plus years of engaging in physical labor in 105 degree heat in the summer and cold, driving rain in the winter, I find myself thinking about what kind of business I can start instead of what kind of job I can find that won't destroy what's left of my body.
When I go into a Wally World or Sam's Club and see some old geezer handing out flyers or drive up to the Burger King window and there's some blue-hair taking my money and handing me my food, I can't help but think to myself, "Wow, is that what my future holds?"
At this point, the depressing answer is, "Yes."
(sigh) I need a beer. And a whiskey chaser.
Be right back. I'm heading out to Wally World for some beer and whiskey.