You see the headlines about working conditions. And the lack of benefits for part-time workers. And the gazillion dollars Bezos is making off of this enterprise. But nothing compares to a personal anecdote from someone that worked inside the belly of the Amazon beast. Below is one from a friend of mine, Audrey (not her real name), who lasted two days trying to make up some hours that were cut from her normal job.
Without further ado, as told to me and fact-checked by Audrey (not verboten but factual):
As work had slowed down to a crawl, my hours in my usual profession had been cut way back. I took four 5-hour shifts for a total of 20 hours on two days where I knew I wouldn’t be scheduled by my current employer. I applied for some other positions in Amazon, but the warehouse hiring said that they only had merchandise sorting available, so that’s what I accepted (as I’m just trying to stay ahead of my credit card debt.)
After two days of orientation (more on that later), I started my first day. And for a little preview: pretty early in the day, I felt like Lucille Ball in the scene from the chocolate factory where she and Ethel get behind and have to start shoving the candy in their mouths.
The conveyor belt was less manned than normal due to the impact of the pandemic. So, before the social distancing requirements, there used to be laborers working side by side sorting the stock into piles. We had to stand six feet apart. Amazon regulated this by using infrared technology. If you stepped too close, a supervisor would come by and tell you to move apart from each other almost instantly.
This is the reason behind the news that Amazon was discouraging “non-essential” items, to cut back supposedly on the huge amount of items moving by on the conveyor belt.
Standard Operating Procedure on my position went like this:
— I was given specific numbers to look for on the belt. Say, for example, 2 and 7. I was responsible for pulling those boxes off of belt, shrink-wrapping them, and stacking the eight boxes high on a pallet several yards away from the belt.
— The numbers did not necessarily reflect what type of merchandise I was sorting. Boxes and weights varied. Some were really heavy.
— I was to look for my numbers only and shove anything aside for my coworkers who had their own assigned numbers.
— By law, I got two 20 minute breaks over a ten hour day, since I was working two 5 hour shifts back-to-back with a little break between the two shifts.
My first day, I worked my ass off. It was exhausting work, as it was all I could do to pull off my assigned merchandise, shrink wrap it, and schlep some really heavy items to the pallet. My breaks and lunch were spent in a break-room decorated by Bezos-ism’s and Successory-type posters about “making the most of your day” and “think outside the box” and “be your own success!”
That afternoon, there was a little unexpected work-halt when the conveyor belt came to a halt. A supervisor had hit the emergency stop button when one of the sorters turned heel and left. She just walked out without a word and they had to hit the shutoff to reorganize. I had talked to her earlier; she never complained or mentioned any displeasure.
(Some other coworkers expressed surprised that I was working in this position when hearing about my other/ regular professional position. The remaining coworkers didn’t seem to speak English very well — it definitely was their second language if it was known at all.)
My next shift was roughly 36 hours later. I was sore, but determined.
A couple of hours into this second day, the supervisors changed the numbers for which we were to be responsible. So, now I was doing, say, 3 and 9.
My new pallet was already halfway stacked full of items. I noticed that whomever had started it, he or she had stacked six boxes on top of the bottom box that had “fragile” taped all over it. The boxes sitting on top of this fragile box were clearly weighing it down. Upon my second trip back to the pallet, this stack of items had collapse in on the fragile-item package and crushed it. the stack now leaned to one side and was a mess.
My supervisor — a woman in her midyears — came over to me and chastised me for the condition of the pallet. I told her that I had inherited this situation and it was not due to my work. She looked at me and said “At Amazon, we are responsible for our own pallet. You need to clean this up.”
As the conveyor belt never seemed to stop and boxes were moving past my work position, I said that I couldn’t do it right at this moment. She repeated the phrase “At Amazon, we are responsible for our own pallet. You need to clean this up.”
I told her I would need help and ran back to my station at the moving belt. I was already behind.
About fifteen minutes later, she brings another supervisor. This was a young man, barely 18 it seemed based on appearance. He too berated me with the phrase, “At Amazon, we are responsible for our own pallets.” I explained again that I had inherited this situation and asked for help since I was falling behind. The male supervisor had walked me back over to the the pallet by this point to reprimand me, so when I got back to the conveyor belt — the situation was still not resolved. There were piles of my numbered boxes just sitting off to the side. I was now way behind.
As I had gone passed my break, the female supervisor acted concerned that I had not taken one; and I left, again with the situation still a big cluster.
When I got back to the work-station, I was quizzed as to when I had started working at Amazon and when I had gotten my training. She clearly thought I was inept. I finally had had enough and told her that this was both my second day; and my last day. She just nodded as if she’d heard it all before; and walked away.
The pay was not that great. And I was both physically and emotionally exhausted. According to the Bezos-posters in the break-room, I could be deemed a “failure” too. But I think I worked as hard as I could possibly do given their rules. I take pride in doing a good job for my employers.
Looking back on my two-day orientation, I should have known. The first day, I had five fellow-trainees. The second, it was just me and one other person that came back to finish the training.
And you know what the kicker is? The exit out of the warehouse is a long hallway. There is a TV-monitor halfway down the hall that is repeating a video that goes something like this: “Are you leaving Amazon and not coming back? Be sure to click on this link and let us know!”
Apparently so many people leave this place that they have replaced HR with a video; and have to remind people how to resign their wretched place.
My question after hearing this story is — really, Bezos? Really? This churn and burn is cheaper than paying a living wage, benefits and creating a work environment that is respectful? I would think that the business case would be beneficial to try to keep employees. But clearly all you care about is money, so perhaps you've already crunched the numbers. I assume you've figured out the least you can pay desperate people already. Genius.
And for the non-English speaking laborers, I hope that they’re documented. What better people to exploit than those that are afraid of being caught, caged and deported? (And for the record, elites hire “undocumented” workers all the time. This hasn’t gotten fixed because the xenophobic rhetoric is working well for them.)
Shame on you Jeff Bezos. And shame on our system in this country that allows the existence of billionaires; non-living wages; and no mandatory benefits (or universal healthcare).
It’s time for labor organizations to shift into high gear. This is NOT the American Dream.
I have wondered more than once during these times of social distancing and the push to “reopen the economy” that it is not just about the capitalists hoarding and worshiping the almighty dollar. There is probably this — maybe it’s subconscious — fear that many of us that have worked in their American Dream most of our lives are waking up to the fresh air and slower lifestyle, and liking it too much.
I still have hope; hope that these times will lead to a majority of the people taking back our lives and creating a fairer and more just society for many, many more people.
“The only effective answer to organized greed is organized labor.”
—Thomas Donahue