Opportunistic grandstanding on one side, incompetent
political management on the other. That was my take on last week’s furore over
workplace health and safety legislation.
It’s probably not necessary, but let’s revisit the
background to this stoush.
Twenty-nine miners died in the Pike River mine explosion in
2010. A subsequent Royal Commission exposed shocking deficiencies in the way
the mine was managed.
Warnings of dangerous methane levels went unheeded and there
was no second exit from the mine. Production took priority over safety and
monitoring by the Department of Labour was scandalously slack.
Following the commission’s damning report, the government
set up an independent taskforce to review workplace health and safety more
generally. It found that safety standards, monitoring and accountability were
lax across the board in New Zealand industry and recommended a comprehensive
rewrite of workplace health and safety laws.
As if to underline the message, in the year the taskforce
report came out (2013), 10 men died in forestry accidents.
Out of that came the Health and Safety Reform Bill. Everyone
supported the legislation – not just unions, but the government and business
groups too. Pike River seemed to have shocked all the players into a rare state
of accord.
But last month something unexpected happened. The National
Party, having previously given the impression of being fully committed to
workplace safety reform, watered down what the Labour Party and the unions saw
as a key provision.
Under the amended bill, businesses with fewer than 20
employees in industries deemed to be lower-risk were to be excluded from an
obligation to have elected health and safety representatives.
Why National had second thoughts isn’t entirely clear. Most
political commentators put it down to last-minute lobbying by farming
interests, worried that the new law would impose too great a burden.
Others said it was an act of defiance by stroppy National
backbenchers and pointed the finger at disaffected former Cabinet ministers
Judith Collins and Maurice Williamson.
The Left worked itself into a fine old lather, angrily
protesting that the change meant the new law would be worse than the one it
replaced.
You could understand why unions felt betrayed by the
government’s back-pedalling, but that was a wild overstatement.
Certainly the bill was weakened, especially when you
consider that 97 per cent of workplaces employ fewer than 20 people. But the
majority of those workplaces are not high-risk, so the outcry was a bit
theatrical. So was the carefully orchestrated presence at Parliament of widows
and families bereaved by workplace accidents.
It was only to be expected that the unions would extract
maximum leverage from the situation. After all, they don’t get many
opportunities these days to put runs on the board. But there were moments when
I felt those widows and families were too blatantly being used in
pursuit of a political agenda.
As Workplace Safety Minister Michael Woodhouse pointed out,
larger workplaces – which, although relatively few in number, employ 75 per
cent of the labour force – will still be subject to the requirement to have
elected health and safety representatives. And all the other provisions of the
legislation will still apply to smaller workplaces, so they’re not “off the
hook”, in the minister’s words.
It was on the question of risk that the workplace safety
debate descended to the level of farce. National’s support parties,
sensing an opportunity to assert themselves, refused to simply wave the amended
bill through. They wanted more certainty on which industries would be defined
as high-risk and therefore required to have elected health and safety
representatives, even in small workplaces.
The government appeared not to have anticipated that
complication and was forced into last-minute negotiations. In its haste, it
adopted existing, arbitrary classifications of risk that were riddled with
bizarre anomalies, much to the media’s delight.
That was how worm farms and mini-golf ended up being defined
as high-risk while livestock farming conveniently (from National’s perspective)
escaped the net. A smarter minister might have seen the potential for
embarrassment in advance and had a Plan B ready, but Woodhouse doesn’t give the
impression of being the sharpest knife in the drawer.
In the end, I don’t think anyone emerged from this imbroglio
with a lot of credit. The government not only appeared to have pandered to
special interests, but looked incompetent politically. A case of third
term-itis, perhaps.
For their part, opposition parties and the unions overplayed
their hand, accusing the government of putting profits before people and
failing to acknowledge that even in its slightly watered-down form, workers
should be much safer under the new regime than the old. And in all the fuss
over the "watered-down" provision, no one explained how a system of
elected health and safety representatives would work where farms are run by
only one or two people, sometimes father and son or husband and
wife.
Some of the news media deserve a slap too, for playing
heavily on the emotional scars of bereaved Pike River and forestry families
when the debate had moved on and their experiences, painful though they
undoubtedly were, were no longer
strictly relevant.
Karl du Fresne blogs at karldufresne.blogspot.co.nz. First published in the Nelson Mail and Manawatu
Standard.
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