Thoughts on Treating Union Representation Processes as a Market in Need of Legally Required Disclosure of Information

Imagine a market that looks like this. You’re thinking of buying something—a house, insurance, shares of stock, a prescription drug, or a medical procedure. There is an entity (call it the “anti-seller”) that considers it in its economic interest that you not buy the item. The anti-seller has a great deal of money and all of your working hours to persuade you not to buy. The anti-seller hires lawyers and consultants to run a campaign to block the sale. The consultants require your supervisor at work to meet with you daily in one-on-one meetings to tell you why you shouldn’t buy. The anti-seller makes and screens a movie starring your co-workers in which they explain why it’s a bad idea to buy. Although the law prohibits direct threats, the message underlying anti-seller’s advertising campaign is that your employer may go out of business or be forced to lay you off if you buy the item. Meanwhile, the seller from whom you propose to buy has to work hard even to figure out who you are and where to reach you to speak with you. Unlike the anti-seller, the seller cannot speak with you during your working time, cannot email you at work, and can’t even leave a leaflet on the windshield of your car in the parking lot at work. If union representation is sold in a market, as Professor Bodie suggests, that is what the market looks like.

Is this market a properly functioning one? The one thing that we can say about that market is that it is unlike any other market for the sale of goods or services that exists in America today. The usual problem with information is with sellers who have very good access to consumers and must be forced to provide accurate and material information in the market. In the union market, however, the seller has poor access to the consumer. Moreover, the problem is not just that workers get too little information or that unions as sellers mislead; it is that workers get a huge amount of information, some of it misleading, from an entity who is not the seller but who has an incentive to do everything possible to persuade them not to buy. In addition, unlike in most other markets, the anti-seller has the consumers as a captive audience all day each workday and an unparalleled ability to intimidate the buyer by indirectly threatening his or her job. Unless we accept the dubious contention that only unions are likely to exaggerate or mislead workers about unionization, any genuinely effective regulation the market must deal both with the seller and the anti-seller when it comes to both the quantity and the quality of the information.

Compensating the Victims of Catastrophe: The Virginia Tech Victims Assistance Program

In the wake of the April 16, 2007 shootings at Virginia Tech, which claimed the lives of thirty-two victims and injured scores of faculty and students, the Virginia Tech School Administration announced the creation of “The Hokie Spirit Memorial Fund.” This Fund of approximately $7.5 million—the result of unsolicited private donations from some 20,000 individuals around the globe—will be distributed to the victims and their families pursuant to a proposed Victims Assistance Program Protocol, which delineates the terms and conditions of victim eligibility and levels of compensation. The program stands in sharp contrast to its well publicized predecessor, The Federal September 11th Victim Compensation Fund of 2001, enacted into law by Congress eleven days after the 9/11 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Although the differences in the two Funds vastly outweigh any similarities, there are important lessons to be drawn in contrasting the two compensation regimes. And in two critically important respects—the need for transparency in publicizing the programs, and providing eligible claimants procedural due process and the opportunity to be heard—the contrasting programs actually track one another.

Some Reflections on Custom in the IP Universe

Professor Jennifer Rothman has written a long and thoughtful article whose central thesis is that we should be cautious about using customary practices to decide intellectual property cases, especially in the copyright area. At the theoretical level, her skepticism about custom is at odds with the defense of custom that I have offered in previous writings and still defend in a wide range of tort and contractual contexts. I am grateful that the editors of the Virginia Law Review have invited this brief response, which accepts some of Professor Rothman’s main points but dissents on others. It is convenient to divide this commentary into dubious and useful customs.