Seniority rule turned on its head at Voisey's Bay Nickel Company
It’s not everyday a union agrees to a contract that puts some members behind outside applicants for a job opening. Or a collective agreement that has little to offer when it comes to the privileges of seniority.
But the collective agreement at Voisey’s Bay Nickel Company is one such rarity. At this mine, located 350 kilometres north of Happy Valley-Goose Bay in Labrador, the Innu and Inuit people, regardless of whether or not they’re employees, are always first in line whenever a position, a training opportunity or a promotion comes up.
That’s one of the implications of the two impacts and benefits agreements (IBA) the nickel company, a subsidiary of Inco, signed with the Innu Nation and the Labrador Inuit Association.
Wayne Scott, manager of HR at Voisey’s Bay Nickel Company, said the agreements are built on four planks: environmental protection, employment opportunities, training opportunities and business development.
The agreements remain largely confidential. It was only with the release last month of the first collective agreement between the nickel company and the United Steelworkers union that a glimpse can be had of what these agreements mean in terms of employment and training of Aboriginal people.
One key feature is an order of preference, which comes into play for job openings, promotion opportunities, training opportunities, layoffs and job recall.
Innu and Inuit people are on top of this order of preference, starting with those in the bargaining unit, followed by those already employed by Voisey’s Bay and then Innu and Inuit outside candidates. Among non-Aboriginals, priority goes to Labrador residents. Those with union membership rank first, followed by Voisey’s Bay employees and then those in the community.
Inco’s IBAs with the Innu and Inuits of Labrador aren’t unique. Agreements have been signed in many other resource projects, including Xstrata’s Raglan nickel mine in Quebec, BHP Billiton’s Ekati diamond mine in the Northwest Territories and De Beers Canada’s Victor Project in Ontario.
What’s unique in this case, said Ken Dawson, Atlantic co-ordinator for the United Steelworkers and chief negotiator of the collective agreement, is that the terms are spelled out in black and white.
“Rather than having general language at the beginning that says the IBAs override everything, we thought it made sense to put it in clear language certain items so that members of the union could look at it and understand,” said Dawson.
He added that the union also negotiated other benefits not stipulated in the IBAs to reflect the fact that Aboriginals make up more than half of the bargaining unit. For example, National Aboriginal Day on June 21 is now a paid holiday under the collective agreement.
Working with this order of preference could certainly be a challenge for some union members because it turns seniority — one the bastions of unionization — on its head, said Scott.
“We are bypassing senior individuals if there’s an Aboriginal who meets the requirement for that position,” he said. “That’s not an easy sell. However, the union, you’ve got to give them credit. The union acknowledged that seniority (in this case) would be radically different from what you would typically see in a collective agreement.”
While working with the order of preference does add a “layer of complexity” to the hiring process, it doesn’t excessively lengthen it, said Scott.
Should the company have to look outside, it relies on two employment co-ordinators in the HR team, one Innu and one Inuit, who are responsible for developing networks with the Aboriginal associations in nearby communities, said Scott.
“That’s inherent in the commitment we gave and we work within that reality that it might take a little bit of extra time to source that candidate, but that’s the commitment we made in the IBA,” he said.
The IBAs also impose obligations on the employer to provide training opportunities for Aboriginals. The training initiatives go back 10 years, when the company first sought out candidates by providing information about the work conditions and kinds of careers available in mining. When the project was under construction, the company drew up its workforce plans, identified areas where the skilled workers were already available and where there were gaps.
Then, with funding support from the federal government, the company offered skilled trades training for occupations such as heavy equipment operator and millwright.
“Once they graduated, we then looked for opportunities where we could employ them during the construction phase to give them actual experience,” said Scott. “It was a delicate balance. You can appreciate that when you have that magnitude of capital investment and you’re putting brand new trainees in a piece of heavy equipment, productivity will come into play.”
At the University of Guelph in southwestern Ontario, geography assistant professor Ben Bradshaw said he’s a fan of IBAs because they offer Aboriginals a way to explicitly and contractually set out what they will gain with the resource development.
Having spoken with signatories in a number of IBAs across the country, Bradshaw said these agreements vary in how they’re implemented.
While some Aboriginal communities have found a happy, trusting relationship with the corporate signatories, “you’ll have others who say they feel the industry hasn’t acted in good faith, that employment opportunities are limited, that they’ll meet the quota in terms of the number of jobs guaranteed in the agreements but the jobs are low-skilled and low-paid jobs with little opportunities for moving up,” said Bradshaw, who’s also a project manager of the IBA Research Network.
He said HR issues could become rather complex in the context of the IBAs.
“How do you accommodate traditional activities? Is it possible for Aboriginals to have a summer hunt camp and still be good employees? How much flexibility is there, is an issue,” he said. “And you’d want to make sure that Aboriginals are receiving all the HR programs that their non-native counterparts are receiving.”
But the collective agreement at Voisey’s Bay Nickel Company is one such rarity. At this mine, located 350 kilometres north of Happy Valley-Goose Bay in Labrador, the Innu and Inuit people, regardless of whether or not they’re employees, are always first in line whenever a position, a training opportunity or a promotion comes up.
That’s one of the implications of the two impacts and benefits agreements (IBA) the nickel company, a subsidiary of Inco, signed with the Innu Nation and the Labrador Inuit Association.
Wayne Scott, manager of HR at Voisey’s Bay Nickel Company, said the agreements are built on four planks: environmental protection, employment opportunities, training opportunities and business development.
The agreements remain largely confidential. It was only with the release last month of the first collective agreement between the nickel company and the United Steelworkers union that a glimpse can be had of what these agreements mean in terms of employment and training of Aboriginal people.
One key feature is an order of preference, which comes into play for job openings, promotion opportunities, training opportunities, layoffs and job recall.
Innu and Inuit people are on top of this order of preference, starting with those in the bargaining unit, followed by those already employed by Voisey’s Bay and then Innu and Inuit outside candidates. Among non-Aboriginals, priority goes to Labrador residents. Those with union membership rank first, followed by Voisey’s Bay employees and then those in the community.
Inco’s IBAs with the Innu and Inuits of Labrador aren’t unique. Agreements have been signed in many other resource projects, including Xstrata’s Raglan nickel mine in Quebec, BHP Billiton’s Ekati diamond mine in the Northwest Territories and De Beers Canada’s Victor Project in Ontario.
What’s unique in this case, said Ken Dawson, Atlantic co-ordinator for the United Steelworkers and chief negotiator of the collective agreement, is that the terms are spelled out in black and white.
“Rather than having general language at the beginning that says the IBAs override everything, we thought it made sense to put it in clear language certain items so that members of the union could look at it and understand,” said Dawson.
He added that the union also negotiated other benefits not stipulated in the IBAs to reflect the fact that Aboriginals make up more than half of the bargaining unit. For example, National Aboriginal Day on June 21 is now a paid holiday under the collective agreement.
Working with this order of preference could certainly be a challenge for some union members because it turns seniority — one the bastions of unionization — on its head, said Scott.
“We are bypassing senior individuals if there’s an Aboriginal who meets the requirement for that position,” he said. “That’s not an easy sell. However, the union, you’ve got to give them credit. The union acknowledged that seniority (in this case) would be radically different from what you would typically see in a collective agreement.”
While working with the order of preference does add a “layer of complexity” to the hiring process, it doesn’t excessively lengthen it, said Scott.
Should the company have to look outside, it relies on two employment co-ordinators in the HR team, one Innu and one Inuit, who are responsible for developing networks with the Aboriginal associations in nearby communities, said Scott.
“That’s inherent in the commitment we gave and we work within that reality that it might take a little bit of extra time to source that candidate, but that’s the commitment we made in the IBA,” he said.
The IBAs also impose obligations on the employer to provide training opportunities for Aboriginals. The training initiatives go back 10 years, when the company first sought out candidates by providing information about the work conditions and kinds of careers available in mining. When the project was under construction, the company drew up its workforce plans, identified areas where the skilled workers were already available and where there were gaps.
Then, with funding support from the federal government, the company offered skilled trades training for occupations such as heavy equipment operator and millwright.
“Once they graduated, we then looked for opportunities where we could employ them during the construction phase to give them actual experience,” said Scott. “It was a delicate balance. You can appreciate that when you have that magnitude of capital investment and you’re putting brand new trainees in a piece of heavy equipment, productivity will come into play.”
At the University of Guelph in southwestern Ontario, geography assistant professor Ben Bradshaw said he’s a fan of IBAs because they offer Aboriginals a way to explicitly and contractually set out what they will gain with the resource development.
Having spoken with signatories in a number of IBAs across the country, Bradshaw said these agreements vary in how they’re implemented.
While some Aboriginal communities have found a happy, trusting relationship with the corporate signatories, “you’ll have others who say they feel the industry hasn’t acted in good faith, that employment opportunities are limited, that they’ll meet the quota in terms of the number of jobs guaranteed in the agreements but the jobs are low-skilled and low-paid jobs with little opportunities for moving up,” said Bradshaw, who’s also a project manager of the IBA Research Network.
He said HR issues could become rather complex in the context of the IBAs.
“How do you accommodate traditional activities? Is it possible for Aboriginals to have a summer hunt camp and still be good employees? How much flexibility is there, is an issue,” he said. “And you’d want to make sure that Aboriginals are receiving all the HR programs that their non-native counterparts are receiving.”
