On the Line at Amazon.com
|Art by Mike Cressy|
Bill Curry, Amazon's spokesperson, says normally the statistics on the board are erased "when outsiders come in, because it's proprietary data." But he was unaware the other signs had ever been removed.
According to Mark Bigelow, a temp worker at the warehouse at the time, all the signs were put back soon after the analysts were done with their tour. Bigelow, who worked on a packaging line in July and August 1998, recounts that workers were instructed by supervisors not to offer any information to the Wall Street analysts touring the distribution center. One supervisor told him: If someone asks you about your job, tell them it's good.
According to three former temp workers, conditions are anything but good in Amazon's warehouse. Two of them complain of verbal abuse and all three say they were worked past the point of exhaustion.
AN AVERAGE OF AROUND 100 PEOPLE work in overlapping shifts at Amazon.com's "bundler lines" and "bander lines" at the company's distribution center on Dawson Street near Seattle's Georgetown neighborhood. It's essentially factory line work: sorting, packaging, and preparing book orders in steps along a conveyer belt to prepare them for mailing.
Bigelow claims conditions are extremely hot in the summer. Last summer line workers sometimes passed out or vomited, he recalls. Bigelow says there were so few fans that groups of workers would squabble over them. He describes the summertime temperature in the break room, located in the attic of the building, as resembling a sauna, which encouraged taking short breaks.
Bigelow says the large majority of the line workers are temps. This became apparent to him when the computerized mailing-label system went down, and all temps were ordered to go home. The result was "almost everybody left. A lot of people didn't realize there were so many temps before then. After that, everyone realized it," Bigelow says. But with high employee turnover, such observations are soon forgotten.
The other workers in the distribution center, numbering also around 100, have less physically demanding jobs and tend to be permanently employed "associates."
Adam Griffin, who worked on the line in August of last year, says that the line supervisors "periodically crack the whip throughout the day," taunting workers to work harder and faster, and applying threats and punishments, such as public humiliation or moving workers to more difficult positions on the line.
Sage Wilson, who worked at the warehouse for four months until last October, recalls workers often being openly called "pathetic" or other insults by the supervisors.
For this, temps currently earn $8.50 an hour.
Amazon spokesperson Curry could not comment on the exact number of workers at the warehouse nor on the proportion of temps. "We generally don't discuss how we're doing our hiring and running our business. We prefer not to draw a road map for competitors."
Curry does, however, dispute reports of verbal abuse: "Every employee here is an owner," he says. "Our goal is to treat everyone with respect. Verbal abuse is not part of the way we do business."
Regarding exhausted temps and high temperatures, he says, "That doesn't sound right. I'll have to make inquiries."
Temps have been divided into higher-status "temp-to-hires," who eventually have a shot at permanent status, and lower-status "temp temps." Wilson notes that roughly 15 or 20 new temps are brought in each week to replace those who are not rehired or choose not to return. Periodically large numbers of temp-to-hires have been fired, a winnowing procedure in which only the most gung-ho line workers are kept on as associates.
Bigelow, Griffin and Wilson all note that the temps who are chosen to be associates are not only gung-ho, but also tend to cultivate a rebel image, at least in appearance. This fits with other superficial offbeatness at the Amazon distribution center, they say. For instance the beginnings and ends of breaks are announced not by a bell or buzzer, but by a turkey-gobble sound effect. And once a month, line workers attend a meeting, called a "powwow," which Wilson describes sarcastically as "an orgy of wacky hijinks -- a lot like being at a high school pep rally."
Curry explains that many such idiosyncratic practices date from the early days of Amazon, "when people could do things how they wanted to because the company hadn't been around 100 years."
But Bigelow offers a different version of the Amazon ethos: "We don't have bells, because we're different at Amazon. We have piercings and tattoos and turkey gobbles. We're too cool to do bells."
Reprinted from the Seattle Weekly.
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