The Press: A Dismal Situation

As negotiations sputtered, ground to a halt, then limped into low gear again, the atmosphere around the New York newspaper strike fairly bristled with stiff pronouncements. The Guild's chief negotiator, Executive Vice President Thomas J. Murphy, saw "no progress." Said he: "This is no longer collective bargaining but a test of strength." The newspapers, said John J. Gaherin, president of the New York Publishers Association, "are being asked for things that are just impossible. The publishers' backs are firm as a ramrod."

Well, not quite all the backs. At week's end the financially hard-pressed Herald Tribune decided it was losing revenues over what were beside-the-point issues to everyone but the New York Times. In a "Dear John" letter, Trib President Walter N. Thayer told Gaherin that his paper was resigning from the association and resuming publication this week. He traced the decision back to what he called the association's "unrealistic" settlement with the printers' union last March.

Guild Paradox. "Then, the issues were automation and antiquated work practices," wrote Thayer. "These were the crucial issues, and they should have been dealt with decisively at that time. Some members of the association agreed with our position. Some did not. As a consequence, we reached a compromise settlement which gave the typographical union veto power over automation and also perpetuated the antiquated practices."

Thayer put his finger on the crucial point—and the paradox of the current Guild strike. A union that was originally founded by and for writers, the essential word men of journalism, was striking primarily over the problems of automation—something that is likely to affect remarkably few writers in the foreseeable future.

For all their achievements, modern scientists have yet to find a way to replace a reporter with a computer. But the Guild, in order to maintain status among the power-hungry craft unions of the newspaper business, has recruited members far outside the editorial operation. Its janitors, elevator operators and classified-ad clerks now have as much voice as its columnists and its editorial writers. And its elevator operators and clerks may indeed be replaced by machines in an industry that must do everything it can to cut costs.

I.T.U. Squabble. Other papers in other cities and other countries are already solving automation's main difficulty, partly by agreeing that no man will be fired because of a machine—although he may be trained for another job when his old one disappears. But in New York the unions and the publishers have yet to learn how to work out their problems by mutual exploration and analysis.

Last March, as Thayer pointed out, the publishers gave the International Typographical Union virtual veto rights over any new machines. The move promised little in the way of future benefit, but it added to present trouble. Now the Guild insists that its very survival demands the same power. Otherwise, it says, jobs that it now controls may drift into I.T.U. jurisdiction. And when it isn't fighting over automation, the Guild, which might be expected to encourage modernizing, is squabbling with the Times over pensions and job security for members who might lose work if other New York papers merge.