I'm All Right, Jack
By BERNARD LEVIN
HAT'S behind all this, Mr. Parker?' asked the judge early on the first day of the action. Mr. Parker could not, unfortunately, tell him, as in order to avoid both gigantic delays and crippling costs, it had been agreed between both sides that the case would be fought without wit- nesses, but by legal argument following upon an agreed statement of the facts. Agreeing the state- ment of facts had taken a good deal of time in itself, and one of the provisions resolved upon had been that no further facts would be presented by either side without prior agreement from the other. 'Then I had better not ask any further questions,' said Mr. Justice Salmon when he was told this in response to his first one, and with smiles all round, so it was. So he never did learn what was 'behind all this.' I feel, however, that there was enough behind it, all to make it worth while bringing it out into a little more limelight than the inevitably rather dry presentation which the chosen method of fighting the case involved could hope to attract. It will also be possible to fill in the gaps which this method left, for some of them are rather important.
The case in question was the Boulting Brothers versus the Association of Cinematograph, Tele- vision and Allied Technicians (hercidafter re- ferred to as the ACT). The story (which is not the same as the case, which accounts for Mr. Justice Salmon's question and also for the lack of an answer •to it) begins in or around March, 1953. At that time, the brothers Boulting (Roy and John) were making a film of Seagulls Over Sorrento, may God forgive them. Mr. John ieBoulting (hereinafter referred to as John) got a telephone call from one Mr. Middleton, at that time chief organiser of the ACT. He told them that their subscriptions to the ACT (they had been members since 1941) were in arrears, not having been paid since 1950. John then explained what had been becoming increasingly clear for some time; that he and his brother Roy (herein- after known as Roy) were finding it difficult to reconcile their membership of the Union with their status as employers. For they were, and are, joint Managing Directors of a company called Charter Films; for this, though there are other directors and though they are technically em- ployed by the company, is, in effect, the Boult- ings, and they it. Apart from the statutory obliga- tions they have under the Companies Acts to their shareholders, which no other agreement can override, they were in the absurd and embarrass- ing position of being members of a union whose task was to represent their own employees in rela- tion to themselves.
At a subsequent meeting, John suggested that he and Roy should both resign from the union. Mr. Middleton suggested that the union would prefer, instead of outright resignation, that their membership should be suspended while they re- mained employers; thus, if they ceased to be employers and became simply employed pro- ducers and directors again, they could take up their membership again automatically. This was agreed.
It was not only agreed; the agreement was clearly adhered to by the union, for from that time forward neither brother received any more communications from the union of the type that members received—reports, circulars, subscrip- tion applications, notices of meetings, etc.
Then, the Boultings made what may subse- quently have seemed to be a profoundly signifi- cant mistake, though doubtless what followed was all coincidence. They began work on a film called I'm All Right, Jack, which took the mickey, in a fairly large way, out of trade unions. They have for some years specialised in a mild form of satire on British institutions—the law, politics, Kingsley Amis, and others—and now it was the turn of the unions. On January 15, 1959, they were at work on this film when Roy was handed a letter by the ACT shop steward on the unit; this turned out to be from the Senior Organiser, by now one Mr. Craik (Mr. Middleton having left some time earlier), who claimed that the Boultings' subscriptions had been in arrears since 1950 (some nine years) and should now be paid. Craik himself arrived next day to put his demands in person.
The demands, as might have been expected, left the Boultings rather out of breath. The sum in- volved (a little under f100 each) was not great; the impudence, it might be felt, was. Roy ex- plained the arrangement that had been made with Middleton, and pointed out that all union corre- spondence had ceased therewith, indicating that the arrangement was accepted, and operative. He also asked (with a straight face, I gather) why the union (Craik denied all knowledge at head- quarters of the Middleton arrangement) had waited time years to point out that there was money owing. By this /time, the meeting had dragged on somewhat, and the time was nearly 12.30. Craik then announced that unless the money was forthcoming by lunchtime he would call out all the ACT members forthwith Roy declined this ultimatum, and asked Craik to tele- phone Mr. George Elvin, General Secretary of union, and arrange a meeting with him. Craik refused to do this and went ahead to call the ACT men together. (When Roy said that he also de- manded the right to address them, Craik said he couldn't, as he was not a paid-up member!) The Boultings managed to have a word with the mem- bers. putting their point of view, as they left the floor for their lunch-break, and their point of view was put to such effect that when Craik ad- dressed them immediately afterwards he was met with a collective (though figurative) raspberry; not one member was willing to do as Craik wished, and Craik was told to telephone Mr. Elvin and tell him what they thought of the plan for a walk-out. A meeting between Elvin and the Boultings was arranged.
There was no progress at it, and Roy put in writing, in a letter to Elvin, what transpired at it, together with an account of the events leading up to it, and another statement of the Boultings' point of view. (Asked for a gloss upon it, Craik wrote a very shuffling memo, which ended by insisting that, despite the letter and the fact that the Union Executive had not then considered it, ACT members should be instructed not to work for the Boultings.) There followed a prolonged correspondence between one or other Boulting (it strikes me that it is just as well they are twins) and Elvin. In the midst of it there was a memo for Craik to take to the Executive meeting, saying, `Mr. Elvin thinks that there is nothing fresh to answer and we should simply reject the letter of 4th March and demand that they pay their money or other- wise we shall take strong action,' and, later, hints began to creep into Elvin's letters that `unfortu- nate difficulties' might arise if the Boultings did not give in. On being asked point-blank what these unfortunate difficulties might be, Elvin shadow-boxed for a time and then came out with it: 'It is our policy that all individuals perform- ing duties within the scope of this Union should be mcmbers and if on any production non- members are employed it is almost certain that our General Council would officially support any refusal by our members to work alongside such non-members.' The door of the closed shop was swinging to.
At that point the Boultings instituted legal pro- ceedings, asking for a declaration that they were not members, nor liable to be members, of the ACT, and for an injunction to restrain the ACT from taking action to compel them to join. (In passing, I should point out that while the case was pending the ACT had sent out a circular declaring the Boultings 'black,' which they had been compelled to withdraw after the Boultings had applied to attach the union for contempt of, court.) And in due time the case came before Mr. Justice Salmon.
It was argued largely in a vacuum, because of the method agreed upon by the two sides. But one or two things escaped from the, airtight legal Container. The Boultings' counsel put the situa- tion succinctly : They say in terms: 'We don't care a bit what other duties you may have. If physically you are carrying out some of the duties which we have chosen to say we are going to organise, then you must be a member.' The rules do not, of course, say that. The rules say, 'You are eligible.' The policy says, 'Closed shop, and therefore you muss be.' (My italics.) Nor was this the only thing the union demanded. It is, and has for long been, one of the worst in the country as far as restrictive prac- tices are concerned:' I have records of cases in which the ACT's behaviour makes the celebrated hole-borers' dispute look like an ideal example of union-management relations. And the Boult- ings themselves have suffered before. On one occasion the union told them to change their system of appointments, as they (the union) did not think the man chosen as First Assistant Direc- tor was suitable, and threatened to ensure that he did not in fact work in this capacity. On an- other occasion, Roy had been acting as Editor on one of their films (Seven Days to Noon). He was peremptorily told to stop doing so by Elvin (`• • . we trust you will accordingly arrange to Cease to function as the editor . . .'), who graci- ously indicated the limits within which his union would permit their employers to work: 'This letter must not be taken, of course, as suggesting that directors cannot, where they have the neces- sary experience, take a considerable part in the editing of their films.' This case actually ended, by the Boultings employing an editor to sit about and not edit, while Roy went on doin'g so. It is true, of course, that the ACT had to struggle, in its early days, against scandalous conditions and unscrupulous employers. But the framework of rights which they built up then, coupled with the way in which such big employers as the Rank Organisation (who might have been strong enough to resist) allowed them to gain virtually dictatorial powers, has resulted in a situation more rigid and obstructive than that obtaining almost anywhere else in industry. But back to the law. Once again the Boultings' counsel summed it up: Supposing . . . the shop steward comes along and says: 'Here you are. You are the producers. We come along to you and we have raised this dispute.' Can it really be said that if they run like mad and get into the board room first and take off their hats, they can say, 'We resist this claim,' but if the shop steward shuts the door so that they remain in the studio as producers they say, 'We accept this claim as loyal union members'?
Extraordinarily enough, it really can be said. For at the end of the case, the judge, in a reserved decision, and with an unmistakable air of surprise, came to the conclusion that the law allowed the ACT to behave in this fashion.
It seems to me most unfortunate that the Union should seek to compel the Plaintiffs to be members, . The Plaintiffs consider it unreasonable and unjust that they should be forced into a position which for them is most embarrassing and invidious, and I must confess I agree with them . . . for reasons I do not know and about which I must not speculate, the Union is, regrettably in my view, threatening to force the Plaintiffs back into the fold. The question for me, however, is not what reason and justice suggest that the Union should, but what the law says that it may do.
And that, until the law is changed or until the decision is reversed on appeal (whichever shall be the earlier) is that. As far as the signs can be read, the ACT is going to insist, out of what begins to look like an unlovely combination of obstinacy, spite and politics, on complete sur- render, enforced if necessary by crippling in- dustrial action. Perhaps that will teach the Boultings to choose the targets for their satire more carefully.-
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