Sting, who comes by his social conscience honestly — decades of activism and philanthropy from Live Aid to Live 8 to disaster relief and Amnesty International concerts to the rainforest foundation he co-founded — took his act on the road Thursday, schlepping the large cast with him for a free concert in tandem with Unifor, the union representing workers staring unemployment in the face.
He opened with “Message in a Bottle,” playing acoustic guitar, and closed with “Every Breath You Take.”
But this was not merely an in-and-out symbolic gratis mini concert. It was a stirring covenant and a public relations grenade hurled at General Motors.
“We live in a time where people with influence rarely poke out their head,” said union head Jerry Dias.
“Today is about elevating the profile of the issue. Today is about saying to GM in the strongest terms that we’re not accepting your decision to close down the facility.”
Sting, who grew up in an industrial town in Northumberland, knows all about the ruin of cities that have been devastated by the disappearance of heavy industry. In his hometown of Wallsend, Tyne and Wear, a coal mine once thrived and the shipyard turned out the largest vessels ever to sail to seas.
There is no coal mining anymore and the shipyard was shuttered in 2007.
“I lived within spitting distance of the shipyard,” Sting told a media conference — after wryly introducing himself as Lionel Richie — hardly a trace of his Geordie accent left. “When I was a young kid, I thought that would be my destiny. Everyone worked in the shipyard. It was the last thing I wanted, actually. I did my level best to escape my town and I did. I got a scholarship to a school. Then I became a singer and made extravagant amounts of money and travelled the world, won Grammy Awards, all of that.”
Seventeen Grammys, but who’s counting? And Kennedy Center honours. And a CBE from the Queen, so not technically Sir Sting, a rung below knighthood.
Worth upwards of $400 million (U.S.), actually, from multiple endeavours, starting with new wave pop band the Police, through a solo career and diverse creative projects. A fortune which, Sting has insisted, he won’t be leaving behind in lazy-making trust funds for his six kids.
It was honouring hard work that led Sting to write the music and lyrics for The Last Ship. “The work was incredibly hard and dangerous but those men and women were incredibly proud of the work they did and the ships that were built there.”
GM workers, losing their jobs as production shifts to low-salaried employees in Mexico, can certainly relate. Just as The Last Ship, said Sting, uncannily parallels the harsh reality that Oshawa’s car workers will be facing.
“It’s basically financial jiggery-pokery,” Sting sneered. “They just want to pay workers less in another place. That’s not right.”
Average wage for workers at GM’s Mexico plant is $2 an hour; roughly $30 (Canadian) an hour in Oshawa. An economic impact study done for Unifor estimates closing the plant will have disastrous impacts on the city, cutting the economy by $5 billion next year, with radiating job losses of 14,000.
All this while the carmaker’s pre-tax earnings shot up 25 per cent — $3.2 billion (U.S.) — in the third quarter alone of 2018 (company figures).
“GM made a commitment to us in September of 2015,” said Dias, “verbally and in writing that they were not going to move the plant. So after announcing $8.1 billion (in earnings for 2018), my guess is it would not be difficult for them to live up their commitment.”
With the lights never dimmed in the Tributes Communities Centre for the noon-hour performance, Sting said he could see the anxiety in those in the audience, many of them second- and third-generation GM employees. “It’s very evident to us, performing on stage. We could see everyone’s face. I can see the worry on their faces, genuine concern about the future. It was very moving for us to see that close up. It’s not a game, this is real.”
Adding: “The story we’re telling on the stage every night at the Princess of Wales is this story. It’s a very human story. It’s a very common story.
“I hope you feel the resonance in this town. You’ve done the same thing. You have the dignity of your work, the pride of your work, who you are. You are what you do.” It’s a line spoken by one of the play’s characters, you are what you do. “You take that away, what are you?”
Before he became famous as a musician, Sting worked as school teacher, as a labourer digging ditches, as a bus conductor and milk deliveryman. There was very much a working man before to the rock star after. And so, he could offer support, participating in the shaming of GM, link arms with the union, but he can’t counsel those who will now have to reinvent themselves on the job market.
“I can’t advise. My life has had a pretty rarefied trajectory. I was very lucky to escape … But you can’t copy my life.
“That was my choice,” he explained about fleeing Wallsend, turning himself into an “exile,” albeit with homes in Wiltshire, Malibu, the Lake District, Tuscany, London and New York City.
His message to GM: “You have a duty to support the community that’s worked for you. It should be a mutual support system. It’s about loyalty. These workers have loyally given their lives to the company. It’s a two-way street.”
Dias claimed the union’s information campaign, its pushback, is proving effective, as GM sales in Canada dropped by 30 per cent in December and 15 per cent in January. “Canadians are punishing them. That’s the only thing they understand. Ultimately, GM can fix this. They can change their mind.”
It’s an uplifting thought. But GM appears immune to public shaming. Greed will likely prevail, a power greater than Sting’s celebrity.
“I’m just a rock singer.”
Rosie DiManno is a columnist based in Toronto covering sports and current affairs. Follow her on Twitter: @rdimanno