Posted on 30 October 2011 by Will O' in Politics
In an unprecedented display of corporate hubris, Qantas CEO Alan Joyce has grounded 108 aircraft in 22 airports around the world, stranding thousands of passengers. Backed by an overwhelming proxy vote of non-attending shareholders at Friday’s AGM (over cries of “shame” from shareholders actually there), Joyce was not only awarded a $5 million pay increase, but the full support of the Qantas board and its chairman, the union-hating Leigh Clifford, to destroy the unions and perhaps even the economy. Such is the privileged entitlement exhibited by one percenters the world over.
Employer associations are slavering at the possibility of a Qantas victory. Make no mistake, if the Qantas board wins this, all unions can expect the same treatment.
The greatest airline in the world, and the one many were prepared to pay a little more for because of its safety record and excellent service, is about to become just another commercial entity. If it survives.
Passengers who have been reserving judgement over years of cutbacks have had it.
NB. This deserves a separate entry, but read Paul Krugman Austerity not the only way, about one nation (Iceland) that refused to back the banks but instead backed the people. It gives moment to the belief that making people pay for the sins of the one percent is not only wrong, but unnecessary.
Great to see you blogging again Will! I enjoyed those old SATT posts below too… may we never forget those days. Is there any truth to the rumours that Harold Hark will return to Australia to lead the resistance in the event of an Abbott government?
I had a vigorous political discussion with a guy at a party last weekend… he insisted that Julia Gillard is a communist (a common belief amongst the tinfoil hat brigade right now). I gave him a history lesson about the differences between this country and the Soviet Union and pre-Deng Xiao Ping China. I really must learn just to quietly nod and be silent…lol
We must know the wrong people, Richie. I’ll be going to a neighbourhood Christmas drinks & BBQ in a couple of weeks, my first attendance in all the 13 years living on this street, and I’ll bet the same wilful ignorance will be thrown my way. I could shut up, of course, and restrict my chatter to the weather or, God forbid, cricket, but that’s never ever happened. As a result, my wife refuses to join me.
Not really returning to blogging. Don’t have the jam anymore. As for dear old HH, he’s either living in a goat shed in the Pyrenees, or dead. If I ever win the lottery, I’ll try to track him down.