Organising outsourced workers in UK’s new trade unionism - emotions, protest, and collective identity

ABSTRACT

Drawing on the literature of social movements and emotions, this article analyses a case of the union-led movement against outsourcing in the UK. Our focus is on the emotional processes of collective identity formation and the movement culture of new grassroot unions, addressing the themes of movement culture, collective identity and political solidarity. Data consists of participant observations, interviews, and additional website and media material. The results show that the movement culture of the new grassroot unions is characterised by direct action and a collective identity based on a proud re-centring of BAME workers as subjects of labour struggles. Key emotional processes consist of sharing emotions of humiliation, anger, and exclusion, but also joy and feelings of solidarity. A crucial part of the movement’s expansion is due to the construction of political solidarity and coalition-building. The results demonstrate the importance of heeding the crucial mobilising power of shared emotions in the analysis of new labour unions. The article contributes to labour movement research with an enhanced understanding of immaterial claims on dignity, respect and care, alongside the cognitivist focus on material work conditions and labour rights.

KEYWORDS:

• Trade unions
• outsourced workers
• collective identity
• emotion
• political solidarity

Introduction

While labour movements have been amongst the most powerful social movements in history, the rise of ‘new social movement theory’ (NSM) in the 1970ʹs created distinctions between movements organised around material conditions and movements focusing on transforming culture (Calhoun, 1993; Della Porta & Diani, 2006). The rise of NSM theory concurred with declining militancy and mobilising power of labour movements in the industrialised countries. This has led some NSM theorists to assume that class divisions have become ‘less significant’ for collective action. There’s a tendency to focus on the non-material issues of new social movements, while unions are seen to operate outside the realm of culture and emotion (Grote & Wagemann, 2018). In contrast, Tapia et al. (2018) assert the importance of culture in workers’ mobilisations. Regarding the role of emotional processes, McAlevey (2016, p. 1) argues that ‘scholars assume that material gain is the primary concern of unions, missing that workplace fights are about one of the deepest of human emotional needs: dignity’. The significance of emotion and ‘non-material issues’ is echoed by Però who in his research on Latin American migrant workers’ organising in London emphasises ‘respect, recognition, dignity, pride, empowerment, solidarity, rights and representation’ as core issues (Però, 2014, p. 1167). According to Peró, the emotions in these workers’ mobilisation are largely invisible in the literature and the same has been noted in relation to outsourced cleaners’ organising in London (Hearn & Bergos, 2011; Lopes & Hall, 2015; Tapia & Turner, 2013).

The aim of this article is to analyse the union-led movement against outsourcing in the UK focusing on the emotional processes of collective identity formation and the movement culture of the new grassroot unions. We address the questions of how the movement culture can be characterised, how and what emotions promote collective identity and protest, and we explore emotions of coalition-building political solidarity. Drawing on the literature of social movements and emotions, our study contributes to addressing the role of non-material issues and the fight for dignity in labour movements, beyond the cognitivist approach of most labour movement research (Barbalet, 2001; Però, 2014). We argue that particular relationships of production present in outsourcing give rise to strong and shared emotions that can become mobilising in the context of political solidarity. The analysis highlights the value of social movement scholars to study labour unions as cases of collective emotion, movement culture, and immaterial claims.

The analysis builds on a case study of the new unions organising migrant outsourced workers in support services like cleaning, security and catering at universities across London. Previous research on the outsourced workers campaigns in the UK (i.e. Justice for Cleaners and London Living Wage campaigns) has been undertaken from the perspective of industrial relations, focusing on the structural conditions that spurred mobilisation (Alberti, 2016; Alberti & Però, 2018; Holgate, 2013; Tapia, 2013; Tapia & Turner, 2013). Successful mobilisation was attributed to changed union strategies like community engagement and social movement tactics. However, the cultural and emotional aspects of this new trade-unionism remain to be analysed. Filling this gap, our findings suggest that theories about social movement culture and the role of emotions in social movements can enhance the understanding of labour movements.

In the following, we first describe the context of the campaigns against outsourcing and continue with an overview of previous research on unions as social movement actors. Thereafter we present our theoretical framework, followed by a section on methods. The subsequent analysis starts with a section on the development of collective identity and movement culture in the campaigns and then explores the role of emotions for mobilisation and political solidarity. The article ends with a concluding discussion.

Context: the worker-led campaigns against outsourcing

The past four decades a ‘massive individualisation’ of the UK labour market has taken place, with a stark decline in union membership and coverage by collective bargaining (Howell, 2007). In 2016, the new Trade Union Act (TUA) increased the control of trade unions with the aim to deter from industrial action. Ford and Novitz (2016) foresaw that the TUA could make unions pursue strategies like public protests, legalism and political advocacy. In an institutional context hostile to industrial action, social movement tactics become a way to re-invigorate trade unions (Tapia & Turner, 2013).

Driven by an urge to lower labour costs, outsourcing and subcontracted labour have become paradigmatic on the British labour market. Short-term contracts and high competition push down the wages and conditions of outsourced workers. Especially for low wage workers, this means zero hour contracts and no rights to sick pay, holiday, and pensions (Grimshaw et al., 2019). Further, by implicating co-production, outsourcing distorts the more clear cut hierarchies of the single employer model (Rubery et al., 2009). Outsourced workers are often employed by multiple and frequently changing companies, which constitutes a challenge for unions, especially when they rely on union recognition deals (Alberti, 2016; Wills, 2002). With the increased corporatism in UK universities, large parts of the workforces have been outsourced; excluded from collective bargaining, employment protection rights, and the national insurance system (Wills, 2002; Woodcock, 2014). The resulting division between in-house and outsourced employees is racialised: subcontractors employ predominately people of colour, many of which are migrants with varying legal statuses (Hearn & Bergos, 2011), while the majority of the universities’ direct employees are white (Wills et al., 2009).

Since the early 2000ʹs, a growing number of worker-led campaigns have been waged against outsourcing at universities in the United Kingdom. Although beginning with cleaners, under the parole Justice for Cleaners, the movement has grown to include all outsourced workers at the London universities. The campaigns echo a transnational chain of action against outsourcing, dating back to the Justice for Janitors campaigns in Los Angeles in the 1990ʹs (Hearn & Bergos, 2011; Knotter, 2017; Milkman, 2006). The first London campaigns were part of the London Living Wage (LLW), launched in 2001. As costs of living raised, unions and community organisations called attention to the widening gap between the national minimum wage and the wage levels that were actually necessary to guarantee decent living conditions in London. LLW campaigns have been successful, but the implementation of their demands is voluntary and in many cases not backed up by union presence in the workplace (Johnson et al., 2019). However, in the campaigns studied in this article, workers have gone on to raise demands to end outsourcing and to be hired on parity of terms and conditions with in-house employees (Hearn & Bergos, 2011; Woodcock, 2014). As a result, some universities have brought the entire outsourced workforce in-house. Yet, large parts of the workforce at London universities remain outsourced.

Two new grassroots unions, Independent Workers of Great Britain (IWGB) and United Voices of the World (UVW), formed by precarious and migrant workers, are now leading the movement against outsourcing. They combine industrial action with social movement type of tactics, including direct action, media campaigning and legal activism. The campaigns have engaged support by leftist activists, students, academics, and community organisations, creating a coalitional movement dynamic (Alberti & Però, 2018; Woodcock, 2014). A type of mobilising culture, sometimes labelled ‘new trade unionism’ in the UK (Moyer-Lee & Chango Lopez, 2017), is appearing within these campaigns.

Meanwhile, the role of Unison, the largest labour union in the UK organising public service workers, is ambiguous. The pioneer end-outsourcing campaign at School of Oriental and African Studies was organised by Unison, and several Unison university branches have campaigned for LLW and to end outsourcing. As highlighted by H. Smith (2021), a strict division between the institutionalised unions of the TUC such as Unison and these new unions is somewhat illusory. Often, at the branch or grassroot level, there are more connections and cooperation between Unison and IWGB and UVW. However, certain Unison branches have been passive and in some cases even tried to undermine organising efforts of outsourced workers. It is against this backdrop that UVW and IWGB construct their collective identity and their movement culture. Through claiming difference, they attract members who have grown disillusioned with established labour movement institutions.

Previous research: trade unions as institutions or movements?

Movement scholars’ interest in the labour unions and the labour movement decreased in the 1980 ́s (Touraine, 1981) and −90ʹs (Melucci, 1996), partly because the labour movement became institutionalised and politically ‘embedded’ (see also, Eyerman & Jamison, 1991). Silver (2003) questioned whether this was a global trend, pointing out that labour movements in the Global South were relatively vital and often engaged in combative action. The concept ‘social movement unionism’ denotes trade union militancy in, for instance, the Philippines, South Africa and Brazil. Labour movements in these postcolonial contexts further fought not only for improved working conditions but also for citizen and democratic rights (Seidman, 2011). Meanwhile, institutionalised trade unions in the Global North defined working class rights, and access to those rights, in ways that excluded migrant, non-white, and female workers from class identity and solidarity (Lee & Tapia, 2021; Silver, 2003).

Milkman (2006) argues that institutionalisation tends to lead to bureaucratic rigidness and concentration of power, which undermine workers’ self-organising. According to Howell (2007) the internal democratic structures of British unions have deteriorated since the 1980ʹs, seen in the tendency to favour employer partnership deals with little transparency to members, over grassroots organising (Alberti, 2016). Tapia (2013) shows how institutionalisation manifests in the organisational culture of unions. Tapia distinguishes between the ‘service-driven culture’ of institutionalised unions, positioning union members as clients whose work problems are considered individual rather than collective, and the ‘relational culture’ of grassroot unions, building on relationships, trust and solidarity. Drawing on the case of the Swedish union federation, Sörbom (2006) highlights how ‘organisation inertia’ developed as organisational logics and culture institutionalised the labour movement. This may make established unions slow or even suspicious towards emerging grassroots actors organising labour in more movement oriented organisational cultures and action repertoires.

As discussed, in recent years we see a revival of social movement and community unionism in the UK exemplified by the emergence of grassroot unions like UVW and IWGB, led by migrant and BAME (black, Asian and minority ethnic) workers. These unions play a key role in representing workers outside the boundaries of the class solidarity and identity articulated by institutionalised unions. Their campaigns against outsourcing refute the established unions’ notion of precarious and migrant workers as ‘difficult’ to organise, demonstrating the power of these workers’ collective action (Alberti, 2016; Hearn & Bergos, 2011; Tapia & Turner, 2013). This article contributes to the literature on these grassroot unions by analysing shared emotional experience as constitutive of their movement culture and claims for material rights, and articulated emotion as non-material claims.

Theoretical framework

Cultural analysis of social movements has shown the role of cultural processes as a form of collective meaning making, whereby participants make sense of grievances as socially produced and political, creating shared interpretations of structural issues, symbols and rituals (Collins, 2004). Emotion informs and shapes movement culture as meaning making. Of primary interest to the case of unionism is Barbalet’s (2001) argument that 1) emotion is embedded in and emerges from structural relations, 2) emotion motivates and drives action, and 3) when individuals share the same emotional experiences due to a shared socio-structural position, this may lead to collective identification and the articulation of shared grievances. Shared (class) interest in terms of material conditions do not in themselves trigger collective action but require a process of collective identity formation; the construction of an ‘action system’ (Melucci, 1995, p. 44). Fantasia (1988) distinguishes between identification of shared interests and identification with a collective identity. We argue that both these identifications are fuelled by emotion. Crucially, Barbalet (2001, p. 62) suggests that class antagonism relies not only on class consciousness but needs an effective source too, namely class resentment. Class resentment is an emotional reaction to unequal distribution of material resources and power, emerging when social groups feel that they are unjustly denied such resources. Other shared emotions like indignation, outrage and anger have also been identified as key to the articulation of oppression and social conflict (Goodwin et al., 2001; Jasper, 2014b; Kleres, 2018). Thereby, emotion (non-material) and interests (material) should be seen as interconnected and mutually dependent motivators for collective action (Grote & Wagemann, 2018). By bringing emotion to the study of the productive relationship of outsourcing and class conflict, our paper contributes to the theory-building of ‘emotional capitalism’ (Burkitt, 2019).

Emotion not only links structural conditions to social action, creating incentives for movement participation, but emotion is the glue of collective identity; friendship, trust, and solidarity (see also, Collins, 2004; Hunt & Benford, 2004; Wettergren, 2009). Here, we build on Scholz’s notion of political solidarity, arising from injustice or oppression, which she distinguishes from social and civic solidarity (Scholz, 2008). Political solidarity adopts an antagonistic stance towards dominant power and is collectively felt in terms of ‘feeling others’ suffering’, in line with identification with a collective identity (Kleres, 2018). It entails a commitment to others in a shared struggle and a willingness to expose oneself to risk. Similarly, Fantasia (1988) discusses how ‘cultures of solidarity’ are formed in struggle, arguing that working-class solidarity emerges when workers come in active opposition to their employers; solidarity is both relational and antagonistic and thus emotive and cognitive (Hunt & Benford, 2004).

Method

The case study behind this article was conducted as a pilot study exploring the potential of developing a larger research application on the movement culture in UK’s new trade unionism, with limited financial support for the fieldwork in London from the Swedish public sector trade union ST. For the purpose of the study the campaigns at London School of Economics (LSE), School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), University of London (UoL), Goldsmiths College and University College London (UCL) were selected. While earlier research has focused on campaigns at one or two universities, a more holistic approach enabled to study the links between the different campaigns. Qualitative semi-structured interviews were the principal method of data collection, complemented by participant observations and informal interviews during fieldwork, as well as social media outlets and newspaper articles. Fieldwork in London was carried out by the principal author between 6th of February until the 7th of March 2019. Newspaper articles and social media were studied before the field-work, and the first contacts were made weeks before arriving in London through union email and the Facebook pages of the student campaigns. Arriving in London, contacts with two gatekeepers, one union organiser and one student activist, were already established, granting access to and enabling the planning of initial fieldwork activities. This included taking part in breakfast stalls, meetings and protests as well as informal social activities, which was crucial to recruit more interviewees and to plan further participant observations. Apart from breakfast stalls, meetings and informal social activities, participant observation was done at three main events: one workshop, a national demonstration against outsourcing and a protest at one of the universities. Attention was especially given to how movement participant interpreted outsourcing, their social interactions as well as what symbols and slogans were used in collective action.

Informants included union members, paid union organisers, branch officers, students and activists. The sample was heterogeneous in terms of racial identity (black, Latin American, white) and age. Seven men and five women were interviewed. The informants had different movement roles and were active at different universities. In total 11 interviews were conducted, of which one was with two people and the others individual. Most interviews lasted approximately 1 hour. All interviews, with one exception (which was interpreted Spanish-English) were conducted in English. The interviews were sound-recorded and transcribed in their full-length. Participant observations, informal (non-audiotaped) interviews and small talk were registered as field notes, resulting in 30 pages of typed out elaborate descriptions.

The method of analysis was qualitative thematic analysis. Interviews and field notes were coded line-by-line, using a mix of in vivo codes and codes derived from the theoretical framework. Examples of in vivo codes were ’left outside’ and ‘discrimination’, while theoretical codes used were, for instance, ‘moral shock’ and ‘political solidarity’. The codes were clustered in categories. Working through the categories and analytical memos, key themes, which informed the structure of the analysis, were identified (Saldaña, 2009). Coding for emotion involved paying attention to both ‘emotion words’ (e.g., ‘scared’, ‘angry’) and how emotion was conveyed by the informants’ narrative segments (Kleres, 2011). For instance, informants who expressed being wronged were coded as anger or resentment as in the following segment: ‘For the workers, for the university, other staff, they don’t have these problems. These problems, it’s just the cleaners. These workers don’t have nothing. No sick pay, no holidays, no better pensions. Nada, nothing’!

The research was conducted in coherence with the Swedish Research Council’s ethical principles for social science research (Vetenskapsrådet, 2002): 1) informants were given a leaflet with information about the aim of the research and research ethics when the first contact was made, and again before an interview. They were informed of their right to interrupt or regret participation at any time; 2) oral consent was given before the start of an interview; 3) informants were given fake names already during transcription of interviews. No personal contact details were stored; 4) participants were informed that data collected was only used for the purpose of research. During participant observation at public events, information to all was not possible but everyone interacting with the researcher were informed accordingly.

While this study is limited in time and scope, the findings that we focus on in the analysis are tied to the existence of structural relations of inequality, generally present wherever labour market individualisation, outsourcing, the use of cheap migrant labour, and declining support for labour unions are prevalent. We thus argue that the patterns found, by means of analytical generalisation, at least indicate reasonable expectations on main findings, albeit with local variations and nuances, in future larger studies in other late capitalist Western countries (Halkier, 2011, see also, Kleres & Wettergren, 2017).

Collective identity and movement culture in the new unionism

The campaigns share interpretations of outsourcing, action repertoires, and common cultural symbols used in collective action (Melucci, 1995). Thereby, the movement actors – i.e. outsourced workers, unions (IWGB, UVW, Unison), student campaign groups, Latin American community organisations, activists from the radical left – are all active in the ‘construction of an action system’ that Melucci defines as collective identity (Melucci, 1995, p. 44). Informants articulate the movement as a movement to end outsourcing (field notes, Valeria, branch official at IWGB and Mireya, a Unison representative) but with a heavy focus on migrant or black, Asian, and minority ethnic (BAME) workers. Thus, on one hand, informants express class consciousness by referring to outsourcing as a practice of exploitation. On the other hand, outsourcing is seen as a form of discrimination and exclusion, referring to the racial division of labour and the segregation of outsourced workers.

Milkman (2006) argues that migrant workers’ experiences of racism can contribute to the development of class consciousness and workplace unity, meaning that race and class are interwoven in the process of collective identity formation. Reflecting this, IWGB and UVW, as well as the Unison campaign at the School of Oriental and African Studies, underline that the majority of outsourced workers are BAME, and prioritise workplace grievances like discrimination, harassment and disrespectful treatment as effects of structural racism. Stigmatised identities like ‘migrant’ thus become a site of struggle and a source of pride (Della Porta & Diani, 2006; Nicholls, 2016). Both UVW and IWGB present themselves (on websites, flyers, demonstrations, press releases) as organising mainly migrant and precarious workers, signalling the specificity of their collective identity in relation to other unions. The construction of the collective identity thereby involves, as Zoe (UVW) puts it: ‘re-centring who is a worker’. Theo (organiser UVW) elaborates: ‘We’re bringing workers into the movement, we’re changing discourses and we’re changing narratives, in a way that [established unions] haven’t been doing in respect to low pay and migrant workers.’

Marking a difference from established unions is an important part of the collective identity formation according to informants. IWGB organiser Adrian reflects upon how a movement culture is manifested in the action repertoires that have developed within the new unions: ‘ … [outsourced workers] decided to leave unions en-masse, and then developed their own style of protesting and direct action.’ Several key activists had been previously involved in trade unions or political organising in Latin America and the Caribbean, experiences that shaped movement culture. Michael, branch officer at Unison says: ‘[Key activists] come from a tradition … the problem I’ve got with them is to persuade them that Unison is trade union at all’. Adrian continues: ‘When they were in this radical, direct action-oriented union fight, then that attracted more of them. Because they felt more identified, as like, Latinos, with that sort of protesting; a noisy, joyful one.’ This culture breaks with the ‘organisational inertia’ (Sörbom, 2006) of Unison and their approach to organising with its reliance on negotiations and union recognition deals. In Janice’s (UVW) view, Unison sides with the employer rather than ‘we as employees’ and Michael (Unison) says: ‘I’m not a fan of setting up new unions (…) But in the end, if the union doesn’t represent people, I do understand why people walk away and join another union.’

The exodus of outsourced workers from the Unison branch at University of London in 2013 illuminates the clash between the organisational culture within Unison and the emerging new movement culture. Alberti and Però (2018) discuss this as a conflict arising out of dissonance in political culture and identity; the institutional route suggested by the Unison branch officials did not resonate with the feelings of anger and urgency of the newly unionised migrant workers. After winning the London Living Wage, outsourced workers wanted to keep campaigning, but Unison did not provide any new resources, which was the beginning of a deepening conflict that culminated when the outsourced workers organised a demonstration outside Unison’s headquarter, to which Unison responded by calling the police.

Emotions help describe how movement actors relate to dominant power and how this shapes the articulation of social conflict (Kleres, 2018). Theo (UVW) describes the established unions’ reaction to the new mobilising culture as jealous: ‘I think there’s an element of jealousy that we have launched and won high profile, creative and carnivalesque and fun campaigns. We’ve done what they didn’t think was possible (…) by organising the types of workers that we organise.’

Within the campaigns against outsourcing, movement culture thus seem to clash with the organisational culture of institutionalised unions. The conflict largely revolves around preferred tactics, direct action vs. negotiations and recognition deals (see, Polletta & Jasper, 2001). This is not to suggest that institutionalised unions can never embrace movement-oriented cultures (Moyer-Lee & Chango Lopez, 2017). At SOAS, the Unison branch negotiated a degree of autonomy that enabled grassroots organising. Such autonomy requires flexibility of union structures and a willingness to accept new forms of movement culture and collective identities. Organisational structures ‘not only transmit but also constitute the particulars of a culture’, as Barbalet (2001, p. 79) argues. They can enable, or hinder, the realisation of mobilising emotions and cultures of solidarity.

Feelings of exclusion and humiliation

The experience of shared ‘non-material’ and emotional needs such as dignity, respect and visibility provide the glue of the movement’s collective identity (Alberti & Però, 2018; Calhoun, 2001; Però, 2014) and the energy of action (Barbalet, 2001, Jasper 1998).). Barbalet (2001) argues that emotion is embedded in and arises from structured social relationships. Non-material values can be understood as transmitted through the material working conditions of outsourced workers. For example, lack of respect, dignity and care is expressed, according to informants, through things like not having the right equipment, inadequate uniforms or uniforms in the wrong size; creating feelings of being uncomfortable, cold, exposed. Exclusion is described by the informants as ‘being left outside’; ‘being treated as second-class citizens’ and ‘second-class workers’. Exclusion works both in time (asocial working hours, scheduling shifts in ways that separate workers) and space (not being allowed to use the staff room or staff parking). Other modes of control are silencing and making workers invisible, further strengthening feelings of exclusion and lack of respect. Jaime recalls how a supervisor banned workers from talking with colleagues or other people on the campus. Invisibilisation is widespread, seen in practices like punishing complaining workers by physically ‘hiding’ them, assigning them work in spaces like basements and toilets.

There’s a far-reaching disregard for outsourced workers’ health. Pregnant women are forced to perform very heavy tasks. Janice got fired for leaving work early, despite doing so because of her knee pain. Having no other options than to work sick, outsourced workers have even died in their workplace. Further, incidents of (sexist, homophobic, racist) harassment of outsourced workers are mostly ignored, with no action taken by either the university or the subcontractors. As Mireya says, the universities are ‘washing their hands’ with the outsourcing companies.

Smith’s theorisation of ‘humiliating mechanisms’ can be used to understand these processes of exclusion. Smith describes humiliation as ‘being violently pushed down and/or forcibly kept below the boundary line that separates the worthy from the unworthy’ (D. Smith, 2001, p. 542). In a speech at a demonstration, this boundary line is articulated by a IWGB union representative: ‘We need to end this discrimination between those who count and those who don’t count at all’ (IWGB University of London, 27 February 2019). Outsourcing thus translates into humiliation processes whereby workers are subject to expulsion from the category of ‘employee’ and deemed undeserving of basic working rights and employment benefits (D. Smith, 2001).

These humiliation mechanisms may produce alienated relations, ‘relations of relationlessness’ (Burkitt, 2019; Jaeggi, 2014). Alienated relations arise from denial of subjective experiences, reducing the human to the work role, for instance, being ignored when voicing grievances, or having circumstances of complaint dismissed as ‘normal’ by employers. Outsourcing may shut down routes to raise complaints, or drown out complaint through a bureaucratic maze that comes with the recurrent change of providers that comes with competitive tendering (Rubery et al., 2009). The change of providers contributes to feelings of alienation and lack of respect: ‘With every new company, they just give more hours, more work, too much job (…) for 5 years, every year, they change for new company.’ (Valeria, IWGB). Workers experience a constant anticipation of declining conditions and denied subjective agency. Zoe (UVW) and Michael (Unison) recall moments where Unison officials dismissed outsourced and migrant workers as ‘too difficult’ or ‘high maintenance’ to organise, and Janice (UVW) speaks about how the cleaners were ignored by the Unison branch: ‘They didn’t care about the cleaners. They knew what we were going through but did nothing.’ In one of her speeches, Janice recalls that ‘Unison didn’t do anything when her friend lost his job because of his migration status’ (field diary, 20–02–2019). Inaction from the union can contribute to the process whereby abuses at work become normalised, exemplified by a story told by Jaime (IWGB):

My supervisor shouted at me twice in a week. (…) I reported this point with (Unison). Then [Unison] said, ok you will discuss [this event] one month after. If nothing happens [in one month], it doesn’t make sense. Someone can say, it’s ok, it’s getting better. (…) In this country this happens. (…) Next time [my supervisor is] shouting again, I say, I can’t do nothing.

Informants thus experience double humiliation and exclusion: from the workforce, and from the union organisations that are supposed to represent workers. These experiences, we argue, explain the importance of non-material claims such as dignity and respect. Organisation around these claims becomes fuelled by feelings of anger and resentment (Barbalet, 2001). As highlighted by Rubery et al. (2009), the specific conditions of exclusion present in outsourcing can provide a fertile ground for the realisation of injustices in the workplace.

Resentment, fear and moral shocks

Class resentment (Barbalet, 2001) does not always lead to collective action, it can be individuating and isolating, especially in the context of outsourcing, which tends to separate the workers. However, in the context of a movement’s collective interpretation individual experiences transform into joint ones. Sharing emotions generated by those experiences spur identification and solidarity along with the realisation of individual oppression as consequences of social and structural oppression (Hunt & Benford, 2004; Summers-Effler, 2021). Thereby resentment can become ‘generalised against the class forces responsible for subordination and powerlessness’ (Barbalet, 2001, p. 77).

Sharing feelings of anger, resentment and moral outrage is conducive to breaking the normalisation of oppressive working conditions (Goodwin et al., 2001, p. 20), enabling risky, direct action. Informants from the SOAS campaign describe how they mobilised wild-cat strikes, spontaneous occupations and demonstrations, when they suffered setbacks. Mireya gives an example:

Usually every year, we do a memorial type of event for the deportation, this happened 2016. Whilst we were in that celebration, SOAS gave a letter to the catering service, that they were fired (…) We had an emergency meeting and then took it to the … occupied the director’s office.

Fear is often described as an emotion that hinders political mobilisation. Following Summers-Effler, fear is an emotional reaction to being ‘overwhelmed with negative experiences’ (Summers-Effler, 2021, p. 53). Nevertheless, Julio (Unison) says that they organised because they were afraid and saw unionisation as a potential source of protection. Collective action then creates a sense of hope counteracting fear (Kleres & Wettergren, 2017). As Julio explains, voicing feelings and hopes ‘emboldened’ people:

The main thing to embolden people (…) was the opportunity to say how we’re feeling, what we ask for. Because in the beginning, we start with the campaign for LLW. We start this campaign and we win this campaign. It was difficult, not easy. But this is for me the most important; to do the activities, involving people, to demonstrate what and why we are doing this, and what we want in the future.

Valeria (IWGB) further underlines overcoming fear through collective action: ‘ … we work together, some workers are scared. Just talk with the workers, tell them that you will help with the campaign.[They will not be] too scared if you organise the campaign.’.

In 2009, SOAS management colluded with the outsourcing company, ISS, and the immigration police, and instigated a migration raid that resulted in the deportation of nine workers – a significant part of SOAS’ cleaning workforce. Creating an extra layer in the employment structure, outsourcing had facilitated the university’s use of irregular labour. Informants speak about the deportation as a collective trauma and underline the impact it had on the SOAS campaign, indicating the function of the event as a ‘moral shock’ (Jasper, 2014a). Like fear, moral shocks can be both mobilising and demobilising; in this case developing mobilising emotions of anger used to build the movement. As Mireya said: ‘Obviously, that was a really tough and difficult moment, but we took it as an incentive to fight for our rights.’ The deportation strengthened the workers’ determination and gave rise to ‘a collective fuck-it’ (Michael, Unison). It remained a key mobilising moment years after: students would hear about it and be prompted to join the campaign. The campaign launched an annual commemoration (Jasper, 2014b), keeping both the memory and the collective emotions stemming from the deportation alive.

Emotions of political solidarity

Activities within the movement create reciprocal emotions like solidarity, trust and friendship, which strengthens a sense of belonging (Goodwin et al., 2001). Lots of time is dedicated to parties, bingos and picnics. Valeria and Gavin talk about the community within the union or the campaign as ‘family’. Within a movement, however, solidarity is political and oriented toward collective action and risk taking (Scholz, 2008). As Theo (UVW) explains, creating ‘bonds’ and ‘personal relations’ are important ‘to build the type of solidarity which is needed, to take the type of action that is needed’. Further, interpersonal support and reciprocal emotion is crucial to sustain commitment and not lose hope (Summers-Effler, 2021), especially when facing management tactics to split the workforce.

Contentious direct action also builds solidarity as it allows movement participants to come in active opposition to both the university management and the outsourcing companies (Fantasia, 1988). Contrasting institutionalised routes to raise collective grievances, direct actions allow the expression of shared anger and resentment that form the basis for political solidarity. For instance, at UCL, the outsourcing company, Sodexo, decided to install a biometric scanner to record work hours. IWGB and their members at the workplace wrote a collective letter of complaint and disrupted a management meeting with the workers and some students; chanting Fingerprints, no way! Sodexo, go away! Such actions generate pride and emotional energy (see, Collins, 2004). Adrian, IWGB, describes how direct action develops ‘strong connections’ and ‘collective joy’:

When you go inside buildings and occupy them with the workers. Or when you do really noisy protests. When you do those type of actions, you really develop a sense of community. (…) And normally people are extremely excited about those moments.

Contrasting the negotiating tracks lead by union officials behind closed doors, public direct actions allow broad participation and empowerment of members. IWGB and UVW thus regularly organise public demonstrations. Claiming their rights in public places, migrant workers intervene in the social order that categorises them as both second-class workers and second-class citizens (Benhabib, 2006; Silver, 2003). Through this visibility achieved in public gatherings, solidarity is generated not only internally within the movement but also with external supporters (Chesta et al., 2019).

As mentioned, students are the main group of externals supporters mobilised by the campaigns against outsourcing. In the face of restrictive picket laws, student activists constitute a resource because they can take high-risk actions, such as occupations and graffiti painting, putting additional pressure on the universities. Some students are deeply involved in the movement, volunteering as caseworkers or later take professional positions in the unions. They also identify as movement participants.

The involvement of students actualises the complexity of cross-class coalitions and solidarity within trade union movements (Rooks & Penney, 2016). Informants refer to the ‘dangers’ of such coalition (Reagon, 2015); the risk of students ‘taking over’ (David, Unison) or of becoming ‘a campaign of students’ (Adrian, IWGB). Zoe (UVW) reflects on why student support is given a prominent role in narratives about the campaigns, despite that few students were involved and most of the organising was done by the cleaners:

One of the big things in the campaign is how they felt like they were ignored by everyone at the university pretty much and not given any respect. (…) that the students were actually paying any attention to them, I think it was important to them as well, the sense of students behind them. (…) But also, I think there’s a tendency to not give themselves enough credit.

For the workers interviewed, students are perceived as outsiders acting in solidarity, through ‘fighting with’ them. Mireya here describes solidarity in terms of ‘support’:

… when you cooperate with the cause of helping vulnerable people, when there’s a cause to fight for there’s a problematic within that group that are causing them to be vulnerable. So to cooperate (…) and fighting with those people – to me that’s solidarity.

This outsider support is described as crucial to the campaigns. Julio (Unison) says ‘for me, one of the keys was the students.’ Michael (Unison) elaborates on how outsider support strengthens confidence to take action:

… it’s about those points of solidarity, the confidence that gave them, to see that actually we can take a stand. And to go from a situation where people felt … close to being paralysed, to now take action, quite lively, it’s fantastic.

From their own experiences about using one’s student privilege in solidarity with the outsourced workers, Zoe and Gavin argue for a practice of solidarity beyond symbolic gestures. Students’ willingness to engage in risky actions demonstrate their commitment to solidarity as an active, antagonistic stance to power (Kleres, 2018; Scholz, 2008). Solidarity thus requires ‘that one enters into the situation of those with whom one is in solidarity’ (Freire, 2000, p. 49), which entails empathic insight. Kleres (2018) distinguishes between solidarity, compassion and pity in civic action: unlike compassion and pity, solidarity presumes an antagonistic stance to power. Among the informants, Gavin (IWGB) elaborates on the difference between sympathy and empathy as motivators of action:

I think as a trade unionist, the most important thing to have is empathy. To have an empathic stance to the people you represent. Because the minute that you think you’re better than them, or you know, it’s not gonna be like ‘aww bad situation’. Sympathy is not enough. You gotta feel the struggle. You gotta embrace it and let it take you over.

Gavin’s description of sympathy resonates with Kleres ‘compassion’ or ‘pity’ (‘aww bad situation’), implying a superficial or even condescending stance to the suffering of others. Instead, the empathy of solidarity (‘feeling the struggle’) motivates political action that seeks social change. The capacity of supporters to share emotional commitment legitimises their participation. When talking about management at the universities and outsourcing companies, the narratives of Gavin, Adrian and Zoe, who entered the movement as students, convey resentment and anger. UVW organiser Theo says that shared feelings of anger ‘cuts through different classes and backgrounds’ and creates a basis for solidarity and collective action. Shared, antagonistic emotions thereby contribute to and sustain a coalitional movement, demonstrating the bridging role of political solidarity. There’s a ‘thrill’ and pride in working together across difference. As Gould (2017) argues, the experience of coalitions can enable us to imagine that things could be different.

Conclusion

The aim of this article was to analyse the union-led movement against outsourcing, focusing on the emotional processes of collective identity formation, movement culture, and political solidarity. We have seen that the movement culture of the outsourcing campaigns and the new grassroot unions is characterised by confrontational and direct action, positioning migrant outsourced workers as powerful political subjects of labour struggles, as opposed to established unions’ bureaucratic procedures and ambivalent approach to migrant workers. The collective identity is based on the proud notion of BAME workers and fuelled by shared emotions of humiliation, anger, exclusion, as well as of joy and solidarity. A crucial part of the movement’s expansion and formation of union organisations is due to successful construction of political solidarity. Universities have become important battlegrounds for workers’ organising against outsourcing, aided by the forging of coalitions with students.

Drawing on an emotional perspective on social movements, the study shows the importance of heeding the crucial mobilising power of shared emotions in the analysis of labour unions and movements, and for understanding the importance of non-material claims on dignity, respect and care, alongside the material claims on work conditions and rights. Emotions are embedded in structural inequality and manifested in (the denial) of rights; emotions of resentment, anger, even revenge (Barbalet, 2001), are powerful drivers of political protest and social change. These insights may contribute both to revitalising established labour unions, and to future research of industrial relations. To study the role of emotion in collective action, we believe, holds relevance to both past and future labour struggles, as well as for both emergent and established forms of organisations. Finally, one challenge with the vibrant protest culture of these campaigns is to sustain longterm union commitment. Workplace organising needs to backed up by regulatory changes on industrial action, labour law and social benefits, to contribute to lasting and encompassing change for low waged and outsourced workers (MacKenzie, 2010).

Acknowledgments

Thanks to all the informants for sharing their knowledge and experiences. We are grateful to the anonymous reviewers and the editors for insightful comments on earlier versions of this article.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

This work was supported by the Swedish union Fackförbundet ST under International Scholarship, Spring 2019.

Notes on contributors

Ella Petrini

Ella Petrini has a Masters degree in Sociology. She has previously worked as a research assistant at the Center for Sociological Research at KU Leuven. Her research interests include sociology of emotions, work, and employment, trade unions and social movement unionism.

Åsa Wettergren

Åsa Wettergren is Professor at the Department of sociology and work science, University of Gothenburg, where she has been working since 2010. Her research interest is in the sociology of emotions, investigating the role of emotions in bureaucratic organisations, politics and social movements, and in migration.

Appendix

Table

Name	Role	Union
Theo	Organiser and representative	UVW
David	Organiser	Unison
Michael	Branch official	Unison
Julio	Representative	Unison
Jaime	Member	IWGB
Janice	Member, representative	UVW
Irie	Member, representative	UVW
Gavin	Former student activist, caseworker	IWGB
Zoe	Student activist, volunteer caseworker	UVW
Adrian	Organiser, former student activist	IWGB
Valeria	Branch official	IWGB
Mireya	Representative	Unison