AMERICANS DO THEIR DUTY.

29 NOVEMBER 2002: AMERICANS
DO THEIR DUTY.

ABOVE: Shoppers at a Bakersfield
Wal-Mart grab televisions after the store opened at 6 a.m

The Washington-based National
Retail Federation predicts total holiday retail sales, which exclude restaurant
and auto sales, will increase by 4 percent to roughly $209.25 billion.

from The New York Times
for April 24, 2001:

Labor Standards Clash With Global Reality

by LESLIE KAUFMAN and DAVID
GONZALEZ

SAN SALVADOR ˜ Six years
ago, Abigail Martínez earned 55 cents an


hour sewing cotton tops
and khaki pants. Back then, she says, workers were made


to spend 18-hour days in
an unventilated factory with undrinkable water.


Employees who displeased
the bosses were denied bathroom breaks or occasionally made


to sweep outside all morning
in the broiling sun.


    Today,
she and other workers have coffee breaks and lunch on an outdoor

terrace cafeteria. Bathrooms
are unlocked, the factory is breezy and clean, and


employees can complain to
a board of independent monitors if they feel abused.


    The changes
are the result of efforts by Gap, the big clothing chain, to


improve working conditions
at this independent factory, one of many that supply


its clothes.

    Yet Ms.
Martínez today earns 60 cents an hour, only 5 cents more an hour


than six years ago.

    In some
ways, the factory, called Charter, shows what Western companies


can do to discourage abuse
by suppliers. But Gap’s experience also demonstrates


the limits to good intentions
when first-world appetites collide with third-world


realities.

    Ms. Martínez’s
hours are still long, production quotas are high, and her


earnings are still not enough
to live on. She shares a two- room concrete home with a


sister, two brothers, her
parents and a grandmother.

    Yet the
real alternative in this impoverished nation is no work. And


government officials won’t
raise the minimum wage or even enforce labor laws too rigorously


for fear that employers
would simply move many jobs to another poor country.


    The lesson
from Gap’s experience in El Salvador is that competing


interests among factory
owners, government officials, American managers and middle-class


consumers ˜ all with their
eyes on the lowest possible cost ˜ make it difficult to


achieve even basic standards,
and even harder to maintain them.


    “Some
have suggested that there are simple or magic solutions to ensure

that labor standards are
applied globally,” said Aron Cramer, director of human


rights at Business for Social
Responsibility, a nonprofit advocacy group that receives


support from business. “In
fact, it takes a great deal of work.”


    Fed up
with abusive conditions, Ms. Martínez and a small group of other


workers organized and began
to hold strikes at the factory, then called Mandarin


International, in 1995.
As tension rose, workers took over the factory and shut down


power to the plant. Security
guards forcibly ejected strikers; union members said the


guards dragged women out
by their hair and clubbed them with guns. The

factory’s owners fired hundreds,
including Ms. Martínez.


    It might
have ended that way, except that it occurred just as concern


about sweatshops was rising
in the United States. Groups like the National


Labor Committee, a union-backed,
workers advocacy group based in New York, had formed to


oppose sweatshops. Mandarin
offered a media- ready case of abuse, and the


revolt was widely publicized.

    Still,
two of the four retailers using Mandarin left after the protests

˜ J. C. Penney and Dayton
Hudson (now Target). Eddie Bauer, a unit of Spiegel Inc.,


suspended its contract.
Gap Inc., which is based in San Francisco, intended to quit,


too, but a group of Mandarin
workers pleaded with the company to save their jobs. Some


blamed union organizers
for the trouble. “Problems were made to look worse by the


union,” said one employee,
Lucía Alvarado, who has worked at the factory for eight years.


    Gap executives
chose to stay after deciding that all the groups involved


˜ workers, labor activists
and factory owners ˜ were willing to make changes. The


workers were expected to
stop disrupting the plant, and managers had to agree to more

humane practices and to
accept outside monitors.


    To make
sure the changes stuck and to arbitrate disputes, Gap decided to


try the then innovative
idea of hiring local union, religious and academic leaders as


independent monitors who
would meet regularly with workers to hear complaints,


investigate problems and
look over the books.


    “It’s
not a paradise,” said Carolina Quinteros, co-director of the


Independent Monitoring Group
of El Salvador, as the monitors call themselves. “But


at least it works better
than others down here. They don’t have labor or human rights

violations.”

    The push
for change ranges far beyond the Charter factory, or El


Salvador. Today, activists
on college campuses are calling for an end to sweatshops


everywhere. [As recently
as this past weekend in Quebec, world trade officials debated


how to clean up those operations,
and the United States has pushed developing countries


to raise pay and working
conditions in thousands of plants from Bangladesh to


Brazil.]

    Results,
however, have been negligible. The basic problem is that jobs

and capital can move fast
these days, as the president of El Salvador, Francisco Flores,


is keenly aware. “The difficulty
in this region is that there is labor that is


more competitively priced
than El Salvador,” he said.


    Here,
as in many other countries, labor advocates say the problem is


made worse by the government’s
cozy ties with factory owners. When a Labor Ministry


committee issued a report
critical of forced overtime, poor safety and threats


against labor organizers,
factory owners complained. The government swiftly withdrew


and disowned it.

    Salvadoran
officials and business leaders have also objected to monitors


Gap has hired to police
working conditions. They contend that the group is a tool of


unions that want to keep
jobs from leaving the United States ˜ or a leftist


anti-government front, a
suspicion left over from El Salvador’s long civil war, which ended in


1992.

    Then
there is practicality. Gap spends $10,000 a year for the


independent monitors at
Charter, which is owned by Taiwanese investors, and thousands more for


management time to arbitrate
disputes and for its own company monitors to recheck

the facts on the ground.
For the company to duplicate these intensive efforts at each


of the 4,000 independent
factories it contracts with would have taken about 4.5


percent of its annual profit
of $877 million last year.


    In a
world where costs are measured in pennies, that percentage would be


a significant burden. Wal-Mart
and Kmart are praised by investors for relentlessly


driving down costs, but
they have much less comprehensive monitoring programs.


    Gap says
that expense and staff time are not even its main concerns. The


experiment in El Salvador
has only reinforced the company’s conviction that

companies cannot substitute
for governments indifferent to enforcing laws. Also, it said,


retailers have limited power
over their independent contractors. Either they pull out,


which would punish innocent
workers, or they must accede to a slow process where


they must cajole and bully
for every bit of progress.


    “We are
not the all-powerful Oz that rules over what happens in every


factory,” said Elliot Schrage,
Gap’s senior vice president for global affairs. “Do we


have leverage? Yes. Is it
as great as our critics believe? Not by a long shot.”

Sitting Down: Monitoring
Effort Enlists Outsiders

Still, monitoring is the
sweatshop opponents’ great hope. Watchdog


groups say that only people
outside of the company can win the trust of workers and


evaluate complaints. “That
is where you get problems that won’t show up in paper


records and interviews with
management,” said Sam Brown, executive director of the


Fair Labor Association,
a labor advocacy group in Washington.


    At the
time, however, no one had ever done it, said Mr. Brown, who is a


former Ambassador to the
Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe


and past director of Action,
federal domestic volunteer agency.

    Gap’s
efforts are still in many ways a blueprint for the international


labor advocacy movement
˜ since 1995 other companies like Liz Claiborne and Reebok have


attempted to start similar
programs. But what has actually happened in


El Salvador is a process
that lasted longer, cost more and achieved less than what many


people had hoped for. “We
knew it would be hard,” Mr. Schrage said. “But it’s been


harder than we ever imagined.”

    The company
has found that no aspect of its efforts escapes local


politics. On the recommendation
of Charles Kernaghan, the director of the National Labor

Council, Gap turned to the
legal aid office of the Archdiocese of San Salvador and to


the Jesuit University here.
Earlier, both institutions had helped uncover abuses in


the plant, which to Gap
demonstrated their experience and independence from management.


But both also had a history
of sympathy for the Farabundo Martí National


Liberation Front, a coalition
of rebel groups and political parties during the civil war.


The coalition is known as
the F.M.L.N., its initials in Spanish.


    “When
companies see me, they see someone to the left of the F.M.L.N.,”

said Benjamín Cuéllar,
the director of the Institute for Human Rights at the


University of Central America
here who is also on the board of independent monitors. That view


manifests itself in mistrust
and resistance by managers, he said.


    Beyond
politics, Gap says it is not easy to impose its will on


contractors simply because
it is a major customer. Pedro Mancía, the factory’s manager,


indicated that he looks
on the monitors as an annoyance, not a threat. In his view, the


only meaningful role they
played was in easing tensions among the workers themselves

after the 1995 strike.

    That
event “was not between management and workers,” Mr. Mancía argued.


“We had two warring factions
of unions and they could not sit down together.”


    Factory
managers agreed to accept monitors mostly to avoid losing Gap


and going out of business.
Still, trust is tenuous and the managers have found ways ˜


subtle and not so subtle
˜ to resist, monitors say.


    It took
about a year to rehire all of the workers fired during the 1995

strike, for example. And
30 of those rehired in 1997 were fired again recently, not


because they were strikers
but because the company said they were not productive


enough. “They are playing
by the rules of the game,” said one member of the monitoring


group. “But I’m not much
in agreement with the rules of the game.”


    Gap says
that this project has taught it the limit of its own influence.


“We can’t be the whole solution,”
Mr. Schrage said. “The solution has to be labor laws


that are adequate, respected
and enforced. One of the problems in El Salvador is


that that was not happening
and is not happening.”

Moving On: Economic Obstacles
Impede Reforms


Before dawn each day, Flor
de María Hernández leaves her three children


in the tent where they have
lived since an earthquake leveled her home earlier this


year and begins her two-hour
commute to the Charter clothing factory.


    She and
the others, like Ms. Martínez, must be at work before 7 a.m.


Managers close the gate
precisely on the hour and dock the pay of anyone who is late.


    Inside,
rows of sewing machines face blackboards on which supervisors

have written the daily quotas
for shirts and trousers, roughly 2,000 a day for each


line of 36 machines. The
pace is relentless, but by local standards it is a


pleasant place to work.
There are lockers, tiled bathrooms, a medical clinic and an outdoor


cafeteria. Large fans and
high ceilings keep temperatures down.


    But Ms.
Martínez remembers just what it took to get this far. She was


among the workers who protested
the abusive conditions in 1995. “Workers would


bring in permission slips
from their doctors to go to the hospital,” she


recalled, “and supervisors
would rip it up in their faces.”

    Of the
70,000 garment workers in El Salvador, 80 percent are women. Few


earn enough to take care
of their families. Ms. Hernández, for example, earns


about $30 a week inspecting
clothes. It is not enough to feed her children; to make


ends meet, she relies on
help from her ex-husband.


    She keeps
her job because the most common alternative is to work as a


live-in maid or a street
vendor. Jobs cutting sugar cane in the searing sun, once


plentiful, are difficult
to find now, and wages have fallen in recent years along with commodity

prices.

    El Salvador,
never a wealthy country, is struggling every bit as hard as


its people. Roughly 75,000
people were killed and thousands wounded in the civil


war. The war also drove
away foreign investment, shuttered relatively high-paying


electronics factories and
left roads, power lines and other basic services in


tatters.

    Earlier
this year, two powerful earthquakes compounded the difficulties


by wrecking hundreds of
thousands of buildings. Economists estimate that 180,000

Salvadorans are jobless.
Almost half of the population lives in poverty.


    The government
has gone out of its way to attract investment and jobs.


Government leaders pin the
country’s future on the optimistic hope of doubling the


number of factories making
clothes for the United States, to more than 400, in


three years.

    “Maquilas
have been a source of significant economic growth in recent


years,” President Flores
said using the Spanish term for the plants that enjoy tax and


trade benefits. “They are
the most dynamic economic sector in the country.”

    That
growth, however, has not been matched by the budget of the Labor


Ministry, which is among
the worst-financed agencies. It employs only 37 labor


inspectors to enforce regulations
˜ 1 for every 10 factories, not including coffee


plantations, construction
sites or other places of business in this country, which


has 6.1 million people.

    The limits
of the government’s willingness to be an advocate for labor


was illustrated last summer
when it suppressed the report critical of factory working


conditions. The labor minister,
Jorge Nieto, said that the report was technically

flawed, and insists that
the government intends to modernize his agency and improve inspector


training. “We want investment,
but only with respect and fairness,” he said. “Only


when workers’ rights are
respected can we generate more contracts with American


companies.”

    But to
get those contracts, El Salvador must compete with neighbors like


Honduras and Nicaragua,
where wages are lower and the population even poorer and


more eager for work. Government
officials and factory managers concede that El


Salvador’s current minimum
wage is not enough to live on ˜ by some estimates it covers less

than half of the basic needs
of a family of four ˜ but they are wary of increasing it.


    “We cannot
be satisfied with the wage, but we have to acknowledge the


economic realities,” Mr.
Nieto said.


    Since
Gap pioneered the independent monitoring effort, few other


American companies have
followed. They cite costs, politics and questionable effectiveness.


Gap executives echo those
worries when they assess the experience at Charter.


    “We are
in a very competitive marketplace,” said Mr. Schrage of Gap.

“Consumers make decisions
on lots of factors, including price. There is no clear benefit


in having invested in independent
monitoring to a consumer and it is not clear if we were


to make it more broad policy
that consumers would get a benefit or care at all.”


    As she
shopped at the Gap flagship store at Herald Square in Manhattan,


Claire Cosslett fingered
an aqua cotton T-shirt made in El Salvador to check


for quality. Ms. Cosslett,
a legal recruiter, said she reads labels and sometimes worries


that her garments are “made
by some child chained to a sewing machine.”


    American
companies dread comments like that. Yet for all their fears,

they ultimately have to
balance their concern over image, and any feelings they have


about third-world workers,
with customers’ attitudes. Then there are the competitive


pressures to keep costs
low. Would the cost of raising working standards in El Salvador


raise the price of a
T-shirt enough to drive off customers?


    Among
several shoppers who were interviewed at the Manhattan store, Ms.


Cosslett was the only
one to say that reports of sweatshop conditions had stopped


her from buying a particular
brand. She said she would be willing to pay more for

a garment made under
better working conditions.


    But
then she paused and hedged. “It would depend how much,” she said.

MORE DRUGS ON THE WAY FOR DECADENT AMERICANS.

28 NOVEMBER 2002: MORE
DRUGS ON THE WAY FOR DECADENT AMERICANS.

Why
eating less may extend your life


Thursday, November 28, 2002
Posted: 2:09 PM EST (1909 GMT)

WASHINGTON (Reuters) — As
Americans feasted on plates of Thanksgiving turkey Thursday, U.S. scientists
reported they have made progress in understanding how eating less leads
to longer life.


    Studies
in yeast, rodents and other organisms have found that drastically cutting
calories extends life span, and researchers are striving to find out how
that happens. The hope is that human drugs may be developed to mimic
that effect, without having to eat less.

    In a
report in Friday’s edition of the journal Science, researchers said studies
with fruit flies, which have many genes similar to mammals, showed that
an enzyme called Rpd3 histone deacetylase likely is a key to longevity.


    “If you
decrease the level of enzyme without eating less, you still get life span
extension,” said Stewart Frankel, a Yale research scientist and the study’s
senior author.


    In the
study, flies with genetic mutations that resulted in lower levels of the
enzyme lived about 33 percent or 50 percent longer than normal. With a
low-calorie diet, life span was extended by about 41 percent.


    The enzyme
may be an attractive drug target, said Frankel.


    Frankel
cautioned that much more research, which probably will take several years,
is needed before scientists find a drug that can safely provide the same
effect in people. The drug would have to be convenient and safe to take
for many years, he said.


    One drug,
called phenylbutyrate, is thought to target the Rpd3 enzyme, Frankel said.
A study published earlier this year showed that feeding that drug to fruit
flies extended their lives.

    Low-calorie
diets produce other benefits aside from longer lives, according to past
studies in rodents that evaluated the effect of decreasing caloric intake
by 20 to 40 percent.


    “Their
memory is better, their muscle tone is better, they get fewer cancers,
fewer heart problems,” Frankel said. Even gray hair is delayed.


    The study
was co-authored by Blanka Rogina and Stephen Helfand of the University
of Connecticut Health Center.

na

27 NOVEMBER 2002

Missing Pieces [IMPORT]

Talk Talk

(February 16, 2001)

Number of Discs: 1

Label: Blueprint

1. After the Flood (Outtake)
[Alternate Take]


2. Myrrhman

3. New Grass [Edit]

4. Stump

 5. Ascension Day

6. 5:09

7. Piano – Mark Hollis

‘Missing Pieces’ picks up
where EMI’s ‘A’s & B Sides’ left off. After leaving EMI the band signed
to Polydor to produce their final album ‘Laughing Stock’. This CD is a
collection of the A and B-sides of the singles issued during the Polydor
era. Also includes the very rare piece called ‘Piano’, recorded in 1998.
1999 release. Standard jewel case.

HOW U.S. COFFEE CAPILTALISTS (Nestle, Kraft, Procter & Gamble, and Sara Lee) ARE KILLING QUALITY COFFEE

26 NOVEMBER 2002: HOW
U.S. COFFEE CAPILTALISTS (Nestle, Kraft, Procter & Gamble, and Sara
Lee) ARE KILLING QUALITY COFFEE

http://www.fortune.com/indexw.jhtml?channel=artcol.jhtml&doc_id=210409

 

Crisis in a Coffee Cup

The price of beans has crashed.
Growers around the world are starving. And the quality of your morning
cup is getting worse. So why is everyone blaming Vietnam?

Fortune: Monday, December
9, 2002


By Nicholas Stein

Nestled among the rugged
hills of Vietnam’s Central Highlands, 200 miles north of Ho Chi Minh City,
Buon Ma Thuot is a remote and isolated village in a remote and isolated
land. The only road in and out of town is a narrow, winding, muddy track
interrupted by gaping potholes and meandering yaks. Until the mid-1990s
the region was notable only for a key battle in the final days of what
Vietnam calls its American war. A replica of the first North Vietnamese
tank to roll into Buon Ma Thuot sits in the center of town as a monument
to South Vietnam’s “liberation.” But in the past decade almost everything
else here has changed. The rain forest that once blanketed the region is
gone–pulled up and burned down to get at the fertile soil beneath. The
population has exploded. And the streets now reverberate with the buzz
of motorcycle traffic and the hum of commerce. The development is exemplified
by Phuc Ban Me, a gaudy resort complete with a hotel, a sprawling water
park, and a karaoke bar built in the shape of a cave.


    The catalyst
for Buon Ma Thuot’s growth was a plant associated more often with the lush
climes of Latin America than the jungles of Southeast Asia: coffee. Between
1990 and 2000, Vietnamese farmers planted more than a million acres of
the crop. Annual production swelled from 84,000 tons to 950,000, enabling
Vietnam to surpass Colombia as the world’s second-largest producer (Brazil
is the first). Vietnam may not have Juan Valdez, but its coffee is probably
in the can in your kitchen pantry.


    In 1997,
after a frost in Brazil sent the price of green (unroasted) coffee on New
York’s Commodities Exchange soaring above $3 a pound, Buon Ma Thuot’s coffee
sector suddenly had more money than it could spend. But the coffee renaissance
in Vietnam proved short-lived. In 1999 prices began to fall, sinking last
December to 42 cents a pound, their lowest level in a century. For three
consecutive years prices have not even covered the cost of production.
Many of the region’s farmers are heavily in debt. Some have replaced their
coffee plants with corn or pineapples. Others have simply abandoned their
farms. Phuc Ban Me gets few visitors these days, and its water park stands
vacant, a reminder of the excesses of the boom.

    Vietnam’s
coffee industry is not the only one suffering. The prolonged price slump
has ravaged many of the world’s 25 million coffee growers. In Central America,
where the costs of production are triple those of Vietnam, the repercussions
have been particularly severe. The U.S. Agency for International Development
estimates that at least 600,000 coffee workers have lost their jobs. Conditions
are equally dire in Africa, where impoverished nations such as Uganda,
Burundi, and Ethiopia rely on coffee for the majority of their export revenues.
Nestor Osorio, executive director of the International Coffee Organization,
calls this “the worst crisis ever” for coffee, the second-largest globally
traded commodity, after oil.


    Vietnam
is not just a victim of the crisis. For many, it is also the chief culprit,
responsible for flooding the market over the past five years with millions
of bags of unwanted coffee, upsetting the fine balance between global supply
and demand for its own short-term gain.


    But the
depressed prices plaguing coffee growers are not simply the result of a
cyclical glut. They are also caused by two systemic changes within the
global coffee world: the collapse of the cartel that kept prices at sustainable
levels for nearly three decades, and the development of new coffee-processing
technology, which prompted a shift away from high-quality arabica beans
to cheaper, lower-quality robusta.
The former was brought on by complex
geopolitical developments. The latter can be traced to the coffee divisions
of four multinational conglomerates–Nestle, Kraft, Procter & Gamble,
and Sara Lee–which buy nearly half of the world’s coffee and own some
of the best-known brands, including Nescafe, Maxwell House, Folgers, and
Chock Full o’ Nuts. In the past, these Big Four coffee roasters blended
small amounts of robusta with arabica to pare their purchasing costs. But
technological advances have allowed roasters to neutralize robusta’s harsh,
unpleasant taste. To reduce costs further, the Big Four have significantly
upped the percentage of robusta in their blends, substituting it for arabica
they once purchased from small farmers in Latin America and Africa.


    Most
of the robusta comes from Brazil and Vietnam, which together have seized
a greater share of global exports, up from 29% in 1997 to 41% last year.
“Brazil and Vietnam offer excellent coffee at very reasonable prices,”
says Frank Meysman, head of Sara Lee’s worldwide coffee business. “It will
be difficult for other countries, particularly in Central America, to compete.”


    The
switch to cheaper beans in the past five years has provided a windfall
for the Big Four. Though none of the companies releases financial results
for its coffee divisions, all acknowledge they have enjoyed record coffee
profits.