A lifetime ago, I studied cookery at what was then known as the AucklandTechnical Institute. My reasoning was no more complicated than “I like food, and I need a job”. Plus, it looked fun. Newsflash: it wasn’t.
Somewhere between the first criss-cross burn from an oven grill and the thousandth shallot I peeled, I began to reconsider my choices. As fate would have it, my budding culinary career was abruptly cut short when my knives were stolen on the day of my final assessment. Not one to ignore an omen, I hung up my apron for the last time. The rest, as they say, is history.
To be a chef is to put your physical and mental health on the line in dogged pursuit of a passion. Few last in the industry, and even fewer are coming in to replace them.
Why? Because these positions offer low wages, high stress, long hours and are rife with employment practices that are outright predatory.
Members of Unite union and supporters protested outside the President Hotel. Photo / John Weekes
A friend of mine, fresh out of culinary school, accepted a position at a highly regarded restaurant. His salary was based on 45 hours a week at the minimum wage, despite him reliably working over 60. Taking breaks was tacitly discouraged, as was engaging with unions. Throw in the usual machismo and aggression, and my friend was ready to abandon his dreams for the sake of his mental health.
This isn’t a war story from the closed kitchens of the 80s, either - this happened this year, in one of our major cities.
When questioned on the matter, the Prime Minister replied flatly that he didn’t know about the leak or the so-called lie, but in any case, doesn’t “believe that FPAs are actually good at creating a good business environment and therefore good long-term certainty for good employees”.
Luxon, who I hope has asked Santa for a thesaurus, is suggesting that the best outcome for workers is for the business to increase its profit without increasing wages, because wages drive inflation. Yet another 80s flashback, it appears.
Prime Minister Christopher Luxon during his speech in the Address in Reply Debate in Parliament. Photo / Mark Mitchell
The chief executive of Business NZ wrote an opinion piece on the matter in August this year, claiming FPAs mean there cannot be “salaried employee[s] ... compensated for their time, both in and out of typical office hours”.
When a worker’s salary is based on minimum wage, or close to it, that salary cannot fairly compensate them for hours worked beyond a normal work week. It is, unsurprisingly, illegal to pay workers less than their minimum entitlements under the law.
That’s exactly what Fair Pay Agreements set out: new, minimum entitlements. These tend not to play a big factor in deciding whether white-collar office workers can pop out to make it to the parent-teacher night. They do, however, make a massive difference to the economic outcomes for our blue-collar kaimahi [workers].
National and Act don’t want to admit repealing the Fair Pay Agreements Act will in no way benefit our workers, nor do they intend it to. It is another prong in a tired neoliberal strategy, perpetuating a low-wage economy propped up by unchecked immigration, an artificially inflated housing market and runaway corporate profits.
“It’s very rarely a good career move,” Anthony Bourdain wrote, “to have a conscience.” It appears this holds true in both the kitchen and in the Cabinet.
I’d like to end my column this week by sharing my whānau’s grief at the passing of Neville Craig Kahu Kiwi Ramsay - also known as Rambo.
Short in stature but with a huge heart, Rambo was fearless. He never got his chance to play for the Kiwis and the Warriors came on the scene at the end of his career, but he was a stalwart of many club teams here in Auckland and won several championships.
His greatest accomplishment as a Rugby League player was a rare win at Carlaw Park against an Australian team packed with greats, immortals even. After the famous win, Neville, a teetotaller, drove us home before going to work as a dusty.
No one played for the Māori with greater pride than him. He led the haka as one of the best practitioners I’ve ever seen. That was Nev, our bro, as we remember him.
Here’s to Nev, and to all of our workers who deserve better, who turn up to work day in and day out and help each other out along the way.
Ko mātou ka tangi kino nei ki ā koe - We are here left mourning your tragic loss.
