A Worst-case Scenario (February/March 2006 | Volume: 57, Issue: 1)

A Worst-case Scenario

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Authors: Arthur Prager

Historic Era: Era 10: Contemporary United States (1968 to the present)

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Subject:

February/March 2006 | Volume 57, Issue 1

There was a time when urban Americans weren’t afraid of terrorists, bombs, and poison gas. The worst thing that could happen in a city was a strike. Cities were unprepared for labor walkouts because nobody could tell who would strike or when and where. Mayors saw to it that they kept on good terms with unions. 

In spite of this, in June 1980, New York City was threatened with a general strike by municipal employees engaged in a bitter struggle with Mayor Edward I. Koch over pay raises. For a while, it was touch-and-go, and there was much uneasiness at City Hall, where emergency plans had to be created very quickly. The newspapers published union press releases warning that a strike could disrupt the Democratic National Convention, to be held in Manhattan in August, and that was inconceivable.

The strike would include not only most non-managerial workers, but also the rank and file of the police and fire departments and the city-run hospitals. Senior officers were expected to remain on the job. The transportation unions, which represented bus and subway workers, had negotiated their own settlements and were not expected to strike, but no one could be sure whether workers not affiliated with the striking unions would walk out in sympathy or refuse to cross picket lines.

At that time, I was part of the small (two-man) section of the office of the director of operations responsible for ensuring that the city function in an orderly manner at times of crisis. The director asked me to work up a worst-case scenario for the mayor to help him prepare for the expected cataclysm. This was a standard tool used in emergency planning. It was to be a fictional estimate of what might happen if the strike became reality.

With fewer than 30 vehicles, it was possible to isolate the entire island of Manhattan.

Since New York had never experienced a labor action of such magnitude, I had little to work with. I combined what had happened in smaller strikes with incidents in other cities and some conjecture of my own. On June 4, I submitted my “scenario.” The director read it gravely and said, “I don’t think I’ll show this to the mayor just yet. He has enough to worry about.” The subsequently amicable settlement made it unnecessary for him to see it at all, and it vanished into a file cabinet forever.

This is what it said:

The strike was scheduled for July 1, a Tuesday, but the unions decided to wait until Thursday, the third. There were two reasons for the delay. First, Thursday was a pay-day, because the Fourth was a holiday. The workers wanted to pick up their checks before going out. Second, any job action during the evening rush hour preceding the Independence Day holiday would have enormous effect, probably more than at any other time of the year.

The unions’ threat to disrupt the August Democratic Convention turned out to be mere posturing. Union leaders had an important