Take it from the leaders of these top unions: The workplace is not what it once was

They’re not your typical union “brothers” from central casting. Nor does Doug Ford deride them as union “bosses” any longer. Times change.

Today, these three union veterans at the top of the labour movement represent a new wave of democratically elected leaders fighting for working women and men: Lana Payne is , Canada’s biggest private sector union with 315,000 members. Bea Bruske , representing three million workers in unions across the country. JP the Ontario Public Service Employees Union, with 180,000 workers.



All three were onstage together that I hosted at Toronto Metropolitan University to talk about the future of work for women and men. And the fate of the union movement. From artificial intelligence to remote work, the workplace is not what it once was (or where it once was, if you’re working from home).

Future changes will impact the ability of organized labour to organize workers — sign up members — while still protecting the jobs of existing members. Payne describes AI as “tech change on steroids right now — and it’s happening in every single workplace that we have.” The impact is undeniable, whether it’s workers being edged out by machines or bots.

But based on Unifor’s experience in the auto sector, Payne believes that reflexively opposing technological change leads to a dead end. “I don’t think there’s a sexy solution,” she said. “Ultimately, workers have to be part of these discussions, and I’d say the change is happening so quickly that in some cases they’re not — and so they’re being used as guinea pigs.

” The CLC’s Bruske agrees that unions should remain open to technology, but they must also open their eyes to the risks of technology being turned against people. The problem arises when AI is used for surveillance of workers. There’s a similar paradox with the rise of remote work.

The battle lines are drawn between employers who want workers back in the office versus public sector unions that are pushing back. When I asked how these three presidents deal with their own support staff wanting to work from home, the answers were instructive: Be careful what you wish for. “I like seeing my coworkers at work, I’ve got to be honest,” Bruske replied.

“I like being able to have a quick conversation as you’re grabbing that next cup of coffee ...

having that collaboration.” Payne told our campus audience that about one in five Canadians now work remotely in some form, compared to four per cent pre-pandemic. Personally, she’s conflicted.

“Just needing to have human interaction in your day, I think is really important,” the Unifor leader mused. “We have to be cautious of how remote work can be used against us as a way to outsource work to other parts of the world.” At Unifor, workers are often on the job remotely, “but I do like seeing them in the office, I have to say.

” At OPSEU, most members are front-line workers, which means remote work remains a remote possibility. “Remote work tends to be a very class-based phenomenon,” Hornick observed. “I’ve got corrections officers.

I’m pretty sure none of us want them working remotely.” Another challenge for unions: If workers aren’t in the workplace, union organizers miss out on the chance to sign up members in one convenient location. Fewer than 29 per cent of all Canadian workers belong to a union today.

In the private sector, where the labour movement got its start, barely 15 per cent are union members — roughly half the penetration rate in 1981. Beyond that discouraging historical trend line, the recent past has also been unkind to union leaders. Despite a charm offensive by the premier in recent years, Hornick remains unmoved: “Doug Ford is the premier of stuff, not people,” Hornick said flatly.

When Ford tried to legislate away the right to strike for CUPE education workers in late 2022 — by suspending Charter rights — unions banded together. Even though Unifor wasn’t directly involved, Payne how she with bracing language: “What the f—k do you think you’re doing here?” she demanded of the premier’s office. The Unifor president warned that workers all across the province would walk off the job in a solidarity strike.

“We were headed towards a general strike in Ontario,” she said. “Unifor was all in — and that meant industry was going to feel the pain.” Facing an ultimatum, Ford blinked.

But labour solidarity only goes so far. While the CLC supposedly represents all unionized workers, Unifor hasn’t been part of the umbrella organization for several years. “Listen, I love sitting right next to my union sister here and .

.. when it counts, we are all together,” Bruske said diplomatically from the stage.

Payne smiled broadly but said little about the institutional estrangement. All that said — and left unsaid — when the TMU Democracy Forum was done, Bruske and Payne walked out together for lunch. Their unspoken negotiating strategy was to break bread and build unity at their own bargaining table for two.

(Disclosure: Toronto Star journalists are represented by Unifor. I’m a senior fellow at .).