Hostess Brands is not dead just yet, but the prospects for the company's survival are now dim at best. Hostess—which still makes iconic food products (or sort of food products) like Twinkies and Ding Dongs—went into Chapter 11 back in January for the second time in eight years, in an attempt to get out from under a pile of debt and labor obligations. The company hoped, it seems, to be able to use bankruptcy protection as a way of imposing cuts in wages and benefits on its unionized employees. But last week, after Hostess put in place a contract that the bakers' union said would end up cutting wages and benefits between twenty-seven and thirty-two per cent (including an immediate eight per cent wage cut), that union went on strike. Hostess claims the strike has irreparably damaged production and made it impossible for it to continue operating. As a result, on Friday the company asked a bankruptcy judge to allow it to liquidate the company. If no deal is struck over the weekend, and if the judge approves Hostess's request, as of Monday afternoon, it will be on its way out of business—its brands and factories will be sold for whatever the company can get for them. A few thousand workers will be kept on initially to wind things down, but most of the nearly nineteen thousand employees will lose their jobs.
Management, of course, blames the company's demise on the greedy, unreasonable unions. But, while the strike may well have sent Hostess over the edge, the hard truth is that it probably should have gone out of business a long time ago. The company has been steadily losing money, and market share, for years. And its core problem has not been excessively high compensation costs or pension contributions. Its core problem has been that the market for its products changed, but it did not. Twinkies and Ding Dongs obviously aren't anyone's idea of the perfect twenty-first-century snack food. More important, the theoretical flagship of Hostess's product line, Wonder Bread, has gone from being a key part of the archetypical American diet to a tired also-ran.
Hostess's management certainly bears some of the blame for its failure to successfully adapt, though the company made numerous (and failed) attempts to introduce healthier products. But the simple truth is that this kind of failure is endemic to the system—there are always going to be companies that are unable to change in response to the marketplace. And those companies are supposed to go out of business. Not to be too clichéd about it, but this is what creative destruction is all about.
The problem, of course, is that that destruction is going to upend the lives of thousands of workers. And to the extent, then, that Hostess's demise shows us something important about the plight of organized labor today, it's not that greedy workers have precipitated their own demise. It's rather that one of organized labor's biggest challenges over the past four decades has been that union strength was concentrated in industries and among companies that, though once dominant players in the postwar American economy, have often ended up in a slow slide to obsolescence, employing fewer and fewer workers and having less and less money to pay them with. In theory, unions could have made up for this by organizing those companies and industries that have become ascendant since the nineteen-seventies, but for a variety of reasons (including a tougher corporate approach to union-busting, a less friendly legal climate, the difficulty of organizing many small enterprises as opposed to a few big factories, and a tendency to protect existing members rather than put real money into organizing) they haven't. And the paradox is that as unions have gotten smaller and less influential, they’ve also gotten less popular. That's why it's so easy for Hostess's management to spin the anti-union narrative.
The real issue here is that people's image of unions, and their sense that doing something like going on strike is legitimate, seems to depend quite a bit, in the U.S., on how common unions are in the workforce. When organized labor represented more than a third of American workers, it was easy for unions to send the message that in agitating for their own interests, union members were also helping improve conditions for workers in general. But as unions have shrunk, and have become increasingly concentrated in the public sector, it’s become easier for people to dismiss them as just another special interest, looking to hold onto perks that no one else gets. Perhaps the most striking response to the Hostess news, in that sense, was the tweet from conservative John Nolte, who wrote "Hostess strikers had pension. PENSIONS! What is this 1962?" It was once taken for granted that an industrial worker who worked for a big company for many years would get a solid middle-class lifestyle, and would be taken care of in retirement. Today, that concept seems to many like a relic. Just as Wonder Bread does.