Here's one reason why GM is in the crapper.
Closed NJ GM plant employees paid to do nothing till contract expires 9/07
http://northjersey.com/page.php?qst...2Y3dnFlZUVFeXky
Paid to do nothing
Monday, June 27, 2005
By BOB IVRY
STAFF WRITER
CARMINE GALASSO / THE RECORD
Rich Cusumano peering through chain-link fence at the idle General Motors plant in Linden, where he spent 29 years on the assembly line and operating forklift equipment.
General Motors wants to pay Rich Cusumano for doing nothing.
All Cusumano has to do is show up every morning at his old job site, Linden's GM Truck Assembly, punch in, spend eight hours sitting around, then punch out.
But after 29 years working the assembly line and driving a fork-truck - call it pride, call it boredom - Cusumano said no.
"I'd be looking for a rope to hang myself," says Cusumano, 50.
Cusumano is one of 950 workers who lost their jobs April 20 when GM closed the Linden plant. Under its agreement with the United Auto Workers, GM will pay laid-off workers' full salaries until the current labor contract expires in September 2007.
The program is called the Jobs Bank, and it gives employees three options for getting their paycheck: They can work for a non-profit community organization, take classes or show up at the plant - and do nothing. It was designed to help laid-off auto workers transition into other occupations.
Fast facts
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
General Motors will pay laid-off workers' salaries until September 2007. Employees have three options while they're in the Jobs Bank:
Work for a non-profit community organization.
Take classes at the plant or off-site.
Punch in, sit around - and do nothing.
GM's annual per-worker health-care cost
In the United States: $6,500
In Canada: $800
GM hourly employees in U.S.
1977: 580,000
2004: 150,000
GM retirees and surviving spouses (both hourly and salaried workers):
1977: 183,000
2004: 458,000
United Auto Workers membership
1977: 1.4 million
2004: 650,000
Sources: General Motors, United Auto Workers
But to what?
For Rich Cusumano and thousands of other laid-off auto workers, the future is looking dark.
Continuing pay is important, but it isn't the only thing workers will miss, says Clara Rose, who worked 29 years at Linden. Think of the relationships with co-workers, she says, the feeling of sharing a common goal. Rose says she worries about co-workers who will be "walking a thin line" now that they have nothing to fill their days.
"You might see people divorcing, taking their own lives," she says. "It's happened before when plants close. The bond with co-workers is gone."
The decline of the Linden plant happened slowly at first, and then all at once. In May 2002, 850 workers were laid off as the facility went from two shifts to one. In 2004, another 300 jobs were cut. The last to go, Cusumano and Rose among them, had the most seniority. They remember a time when 5,700 employees worked two shifts at Linden pumping out Cadillacs, Buicks and Oldsmobiles.
In those days, whatever GM built, the world bought.
Now, every month brings more bad news for the automaker and its hourly employees. Three weeks after Linden closed, GM shut its Baltimore facility, putting another 1,000 out of work. On June 8, the company announced it would close more plants in the next three years, cutting its workforce by 25,000.
"They've taken away the American dream," Rose says.
Rose will work for community organizations in her Newark neighborhood, while Cusumano, a Jackson Township resident, plans to take classes at Ocean County College. GM will pay him his $28 an hour and kick in an extra $4,600 a year for tuition.
"GM has been good to us," he says. "The UAW has been better."
But after September 2007, who knows?
When the current contract runs out, the union may not be able to help workers like Cusumano and Rose. And it certainly won't be able to help people their children's age.
"The good-paying jobs won't be out there for the kids who don't want to go to college," Cusumano says. "What are they going to do?"
Downsized dreams
The Jobs Bank is a reflection of the state of manufacturing in America. Skilled workers who want to work, but can't, collect paychecks for sipping coffee - from a company struggling to be competitive.
The number of manufacturing jobs in New Jersey has declined 40 percent in just the last 15 years. That's 218,000 families since 1990 that have downsized their dreams.
"America is at war with its workers," says William R. Adams, author of "Facts & Tactics for Resisting Unions." "We send the jobs away, subsidize foreign countries to do things for less and we expect our employees to love us."
When companies foul up, it's the wage-earners who end up paying with their jobs, Adams says. GM lost $1.3 billion in the first quarter of 2005.
Ask a dozen experts what's causing GM's decline and they're liable to offer a dozen answers: Promoting rebates and low financing rather than the cars and trucks, relying too much on gas-guzzling models, shortchanging research on alternative-energy vehicles and making a product that's inferior to foreign brands.
Always, however, the discussion returns to the cost of worker benefits.
"The U.S. system is based on companies paying for special benefits, so treating workers better puts companies at a competitive disadvantage," says John Budd, professor of industrial relations at the University of Minnesota. "In other countries, like Japan and Canada, those benefits aren't paid by the employer - the state takes care of those things."
Competition is fierce and Japanese automakers are winning, even when they build cars in the United States. They run non-union shops in the South and Midwest, where newer factories and a younger workforce mean pensions and health plans cost the companies a lot less.
Meanwhile, GM pays $1,525 in health-care costs for every vehicle that comes off its assembly lines - more than it pays for the steel. The annual total for health coverage |is $5 billion. GM retirees, who receive pensions and health insurance but produce nothing, outnumber current employees 2½ to 1.
'Still here'
At the UAW's Local 595 hall, a split-level brick building on Routes 1 and 9 in Linden, a sign out front announces: "Still proud, still strong, still here."
In his upstairs office, a wood-paneled room overlooking the highway, Guy Messina takes a call from a union member who was laid off from the Linden plant. The man is in trouble for driving drunk. "He's depressed," Messina explains.
Messina, the wiry, bearded president of the local, began his GM career in 1968, fresh off a stint as a staff sergeant in Vietnam. On April 20, Messina followed the last Chevy Blazer as it rolled down the Linden line, shaking hands along the way.
"It was a very emotional time for everyone," he says.
Down the hall, Jerry Harper, 54, sits on a folding chair in the union's auditorium. Behind him, weak sunlight seeps in through windows high on the walls. Harper says he started at Linden on Dec. 13, 1967, making $2.95 an hour on the assembly line.
"We thought we were doing pretty good back then," he |says. After 36 years, Harper was making $28 an hour as an electrical repairman.
Harper signed on to do community service through the Jobs Bank and found work - at the union hall. He helps with mailings and keeps the building tidy, inside and out.
"I'm still young," he says, with a shrug. "I can't just sit around. I have to do some kind of work."
Harper's friend paces the room. He won't give his name.
"You been working at a place like this all your life, how do you go out there and work, for what? Eight or nine dollars an hour?" he says. "You got professional people, educated people out there who can't find work."
Mostly idle days
Neither GM nor the UAW will say how many workers are in the Jobs Bank, but participants say about 300 punch in at Linden on any given day.
If GM managers want them to do odd jobs, such as filing documents or photocopying, they ask for volunteers. The former autoworkers spend most of the day chatting, reading or watching CNN on the cafeteria TV. A gym is available, and some walk laps around a track. Some have signed up for computer classes taught at the Linden plant.
In the union hall basement is a bar, and at midday eight men are gathered around, drinking Budweiser and an occasional shot of whiskey. Among them, they have 250 years' experience with GM. None wants his name in a newspaper.
"We love to work," says one man, who put in 29 years. "We had the pride of making something. Now it's gone."
"It was the saddest day of my life" when the plant closed, says another.
"What is this country going to do without manufacturing?" asks yet another. "We want to work, be the heads of households, be men."
One of the long-timers buys the house a round of drinks. While his former co-workers toast, a tool-and-die man speaks softly.
"I had 30 years at that plant," he says. "The best years of my life."
E-mail: ivry@northjersey.com