Feature Article |
The Last Union Town
By Matthew Teague
It’s been well documented that in 2003, some of John Dougherty’s electricians turned up to disrupt Sam Katz’s mayoral campaign — “Thugs,” Katz calls them. And Frank Keel — then Street’s right-hand man, with the loud voice and long arms — once sent public letters under a false name to the Daily News, disparaging Katz as the election approached. So did Keel’s wife.
Some business owners say certain unions — and not all unions are alike — run an efficient shakedown operation: If you don’t hire us, at three times the lowest bid, protesters with picket signs and insinuations might show up at your burger joint. In years past, such a union protest might have stopped Philadelphians from entering a business. But that’s changing; on the day the electricians picketed Five Guys — perhaps signaling a shift in public regard for the unions — diners filled the restaurant like any other day.
Other businesses claim similar encounters with Philadelphia unions. In 2004, the producers of MTV’s The Real World famously packed up and left town when confronted by the city’s unions. They returned eventually — after public demonstrations against the unions — but the debacle made Philadelphia notorious in the film and television industry. Likewise, the city’s reputation has long suffered among groups who book events at the Convention Center, only to encounter union entanglements. For instance, due to labyrinthine union work rules, multi-step tasks must be done in a certain order; masonry workers might stand around waiting for carpenters to build a new form to hold their cement, while the carpenters wait for laborers to demolish the old form, and they in turn wait for the electricians to shut off power. Meanwhile, everyone is paid. Even worse than the cost is the embarrassment for the city: In 2002, for instance, a carpenter and his union’s leader got into a fistfight on the Convention Center floor.
It’s as if Philadelphia wants to host a fancy party, but the crazy-uncle unions always drink too much and soil the living room carpet.
A poll a few years ago revealed that only 17 percent of Philadelphia’s Convention Center shows chose to return to the city. The PCC commissioned a group of consultants to find out why. They reported back that “virtually every customer reported that PCC show labor was inefficient, hostile, or both. The PCC labor situation is perceived as the worst encountered anywhere in the country at this time.”
That is to say: The unions here are the worst in America. The Convention Center’s desperate administrators cry that the unions scare off customers, and — to give a sense of scale — all Center City feels the impact. Restaurants suffer. Hotels suffer. Movie theaters, souvenir shops, taxi drivers suffer. Taxpayers all.
A couple of years ago, Philadelphia witnessed one of the worst moments — or the best, depending which side you’re on — in the history of its labor unions. The day of disgrace — or, again, triumph — began with a claim to bragging rights. Thanks to the new Comcast tower, Philadelphia would boast the country’s tallest “green” building: 58 floors of ecological friendliness. The designers found special glass, special paint, special toilets and special carpet that would earn the building an official seal from the U.S. Green Building Council: a prestigious and forward-thinking achievement for the City of Philadelphia.
Some business owners say certain unions — and not all unions are alike — run an efficient shakedown operation: If you don’t hire us, at three times the lowest bid, protesters with picket signs and insinuations might show up at your burger joint. In years past, such a union protest might have stopped Philadelphians from entering a business. But that’s changing; on the day the electricians picketed Five Guys — perhaps signaling a shift in public regard for the unions — diners filled the restaurant like any other day.
Other businesses claim similar encounters with Philadelphia unions. In 2004, the producers of MTV’s The Real World famously packed up and left town when confronted by the city’s unions. They returned eventually — after public demonstrations against the unions — but the debacle made Philadelphia notorious in the film and television industry. Likewise, the city’s reputation has long suffered among groups who book events at the Convention Center, only to encounter union entanglements. For instance, due to labyrinthine union work rules, multi-step tasks must be done in a certain order; masonry workers might stand around waiting for carpenters to build a new form to hold their cement, while the carpenters wait for laborers to demolish the old form, and they in turn wait for the electricians to shut off power. Meanwhile, everyone is paid. Even worse than the cost is the embarrassment for the city: In 2002, for instance, a carpenter and his union’s leader got into a fistfight on the Convention Center floor.
It’s as if Philadelphia wants to host a fancy party, but the crazy-uncle unions always drink too much and soil the living room carpet.
A poll a few years ago revealed that only 17 percent of Philadelphia’s Convention Center shows chose to return to the city. The PCC commissioned a group of consultants to find out why. They reported back that “virtually every customer reported that PCC show labor was inefficient, hostile, or both. The PCC labor situation is perceived as the worst encountered anywhere in the country at this time.”
That is to say: The unions here are the worst in America. The Convention Center’s desperate administrators cry that the unions scare off customers, and — to give a sense of scale — all Center City feels the impact. Restaurants suffer. Hotels suffer. Movie theaters, souvenir shops, taxi drivers suffer. Taxpayers all.
A couple of years ago, Philadelphia witnessed one of the worst moments — or the best, depending which side you’re on — in the history of its labor unions. The day of disgrace — or, again, triumph — began with a claim to bragging rights. Thanks to the new Comcast tower, Philadelphia would boast the country’s tallest “green” building: 58 floors of ecological friendliness. The designers found special glass, special paint, special toilets and special carpet that would earn the building an official seal from the U.S. Green Building Council: a prestigious and forward-thinking achievement for the City of Philadelphia.
Change text size |
Print |
Email |
Write a comment |











Posted by Jose Manuel | Jan. 26, 2008 at 11:27 AM
Posted by Jose Manuel | Jan. 26, 2008 at 11:27 AM
Posted by tommy | Jan. 28, 2008 at 4:12 PM
Posted by tommy | Jan. 28, 2008 at 4:12 PM
Posted by Anonymous | Jan. 30, 2008 at 9:30 AM
Posted by Jim | Jan. 30, 2008 at 2:56 PM
Posted by Anonymous | Feb. 1, 2008 at 10:42 AM
Posted by Mondiggy | Feb. 2, 2008 at 8:09 AM
Posted by Anonymous | Feb. 3, 2008 at 9:29 AM
Posted by Anonymous | Feb. 5, 2008 at 9:18 AM
Posted by Anonymous | Feb. 8, 2008 at 8:40 AM
Posted by Anonymous | Feb. 10, 2008 at 7:20 PM
Posted by Anonymous | Feb. 10, 2008 at 7:29 PM
Posted by Anonymous | Feb. 12, 2008 at 8:09 AM
Posted by Jim | Feb. 12, 2008 at 10:48 AM
Posted by Mark | Feb. 21, 2008 at 7:33 AM
Posted by Bob | Apr. 3, 2008 at 6:31 AM
Posted by Frank | May. 18, 2008 at 12:11 PM
Posted by Anonymous | Mar. 12, 2009 at 9:41 PM
Posted by Anonymous | Sep. 2, 2009 at 4:00 PM
Posted by Matthew | Nov. 4, 2009 at 12:12 PM