http://www.opinionjournal.com/editorial/feature.html?id=110004255
In Defense of P. Diddy
Unions mau-mau the rapper over an air-conditioned "sweatshop."
Tuesday, November 4, 2003 12:01 a.m. EST
We don't mean to be obvious, but presumably among the criteria defining a "sweatshop" is that its workers actually, uh, sweat. So when hip-hop impresario Sean "P. Diddy" Combs found himself accused of exploiting Honduran workers who are "hot" and "sweating" as they turn out his Sean John line of designer clothing, we called the factory ourselves. Turns out that among the things that distinguish the Southeast Textiles factory (Setisa) from competitors around the world is this: It's air-conditioned.
This tale, moreover, turns out to be about a lot more than one celebrity and his fashion line. It is the latest example of American union activists trying to shake down a celebrity to become a recruit for their anti-free trade agenda. The people who suffer as a result are the Hondurans for whom textile jobs are a rare opportunity up from poverty.
That's obvious enough to anyone willing to make a few calls to check out the allegedly exploitative P. Diddy plant. The owner, American expatriate Steve Hawkins, says there's a reason the factory is air-conditioned. Back in his native North Carolina, he says, his own grandmother was a sewing machine operator--as well as a union member. Mr. Hawkins likes to think he treats his Setisa workers the way he would have wanted his grandmother to have been treated.
The point Mr. Hawkins is making is that he's willing to put his Honduran factory up against any back home in the U.S. And the more that emerges about Setisa, the more it looks those hollering "Sweatshop!" have got the wrong man. After an inspection Thursday, Honduras's Labor Minister told reporters the accusations were "overblown," and Mr. Hawkins says he expects to be exonerated of any major charges in the full report the Labor Ministry is set to release today.
As for Mr. Combs, it tells you something about the mixed-up world we live in when the gravest threat to a hip-hop mogul's reputation is . . . trade. When these charges were leveled at him last week, he did the reasonable thing, saying he'd look into them. When he does we suspect he'll find that the accusations have nothing to do with improving the conditions of Setisa workers and everything to do with trying to gum up ongoing negotiations for a U.S. free trade agreement with Central American nations that would give a huge boost to the Honduran textile industry.
None of this will come as any surprise to those familiar with Charles Kernaghan, the man behind the allegations against Mr. Combs. As executive director of the National Labor Committee, Mr. Kernaghan excels at this kind of media frenzy. After first leaking his accusations to the New York Times, Mr. Kernaghan staged a well-publicized press event outside a soon-to-be-opened Sean John shop on Fifth Avenue. There he produced a 19-year-old former Setisa factory hand who detailed the exploitation she alleges goes into a Sean John shirt.
Staged just before Mr. Combs's charity run this weekend in the New York marathon, the timing was as crucial as the backdrop. Mr. Kernaghan specializes in heaving mud pies at people who trade on their public image, knowing that some will stick regardless of what turns out to be the truth.
A few years back, the object was Kathie Lee Gifford and the clothing line carried by Wal-Mart. One student who accompanied Mr. Kernaghan on the trip to Central America that preceded those accusations told us that she had second thoughts about Mr. Kernaghan when she saw how "rabid and obsessed" he was about getting Mrs. Gifford.
We'll probably never know the answer to some of Mr. Kernaghan's charges, such as whether Setisa managers yelled insults at workers. But some we can know. We've mentioned the air conditioning. Other accusations include forced overtime and "no health care." But the factory has a full-time nurse, a doctor who's there each afternoon and a pharmacy that gives medicines to workers for free. And Mr. Hawkins says he has the records to prove that the young lady in question never worked all the overtime she claims, based on a biometric hand-reader that workers use to punch in and out.
None of this, of course, would matter to Mr. Kernaghan. His argument is not that this or that factory is abusive but that the whole system is a crock. In the case of Setisa, to believe Mr. Kernaghan you have to believe not only that Mr. Hawkins runs a sweatshop but that everyone from the Honduran Labor Ministry to the compliance officer who works for Mr. Combs himself are either in cahoots or complete fools.
Though Mr. Kernaghan claims he doesn't want Mr. Combs or other American businessmen to pull out of their factories overseas, his sensational smear-first-get-to-the-truth-later campaigns only make it more difficult for them to stay. We're not sure we'll ever warm to P. Diddy's music. But when it comes to improving the lot of Honduran workers, we think we're singing the same tune.
In Defense of P. Diddy
Unions mau-mau the rapper over an air-conditioned "sweatshop."
Tuesday, November 4, 2003 12:01 a.m. EST
We don't mean to be obvious, but presumably among the criteria defining a "sweatshop" is that its workers actually, uh, sweat. So when hip-hop impresario Sean "P. Diddy" Combs found himself accused of exploiting Honduran workers who are "hot" and "sweating" as they turn out his Sean John line of designer clothing, we called the factory ourselves. Turns out that among the things that distinguish the Southeast Textiles factory (Setisa) from competitors around the world is this: It's air-conditioned.
This tale, moreover, turns out to be about a lot more than one celebrity and his fashion line. It is the latest example of American union activists trying to shake down a celebrity to become a recruit for their anti-free trade agenda. The people who suffer as a result are the Hondurans for whom textile jobs are a rare opportunity up from poverty.
That's obvious enough to anyone willing to make a few calls to check out the allegedly exploitative P. Diddy plant. The owner, American expatriate Steve Hawkins, says there's a reason the factory is air-conditioned. Back in his native North Carolina, he says, his own grandmother was a sewing machine operator--as well as a union member. Mr. Hawkins likes to think he treats his Setisa workers the way he would have wanted his grandmother to have been treated.
The point Mr. Hawkins is making is that he's willing to put his Honduran factory up against any back home in the U.S. And the more that emerges about Setisa, the more it looks those hollering "Sweatshop!" have got the wrong man. After an inspection Thursday, Honduras's Labor Minister told reporters the accusations were "overblown," and Mr. Hawkins says he expects to be exonerated of any major charges in the full report the Labor Ministry is set to release today.
As for Mr. Combs, it tells you something about the mixed-up world we live in when the gravest threat to a hip-hop mogul's reputation is . . . trade. When these charges were leveled at him last week, he did the reasonable thing, saying he'd look into them. When he does we suspect he'll find that the accusations have nothing to do with improving the conditions of Setisa workers and everything to do with trying to gum up ongoing negotiations for a U.S. free trade agreement with Central American nations that would give a huge boost to the Honduran textile industry.
None of this will come as any surprise to those familiar with Charles Kernaghan, the man behind the allegations against Mr. Combs. As executive director of the National Labor Committee, Mr. Kernaghan excels at this kind of media frenzy. After first leaking his accusations to the New York Times, Mr. Kernaghan staged a well-publicized press event outside a soon-to-be-opened Sean John shop on Fifth Avenue. There he produced a 19-year-old former Setisa factory hand who detailed the exploitation she alleges goes into a Sean John shirt.
Staged just before Mr. Combs's charity run this weekend in the New York marathon, the timing was as crucial as the backdrop. Mr. Kernaghan specializes in heaving mud pies at people who trade on their public image, knowing that some will stick regardless of what turns out to be the truth.
A few years back, the object was Kathie Lee Gifford and the clothing line carried by Wal-Mart. One student who accompanied Mr. Kernaghan on the trip to Central America that preceded those accusations told us that she had second thoughts about Mr. Kernaghan when she saw how "rabid and obsessed" he was about getting Mrs. Gifford.
We'll probably never know the answer to some of Mr. Kernaghan's charges, such as whether Setisa managers yelled insults at workers. But some we can know. We've mentioned the air conditioning. Other accusations include forced overtime and "no health care." But the factory has a full-time nurse, a doctor who's there each afternoon and a pharmacy that gives medicines to workers for free. And Mr. Hawkins says he has the records to prove that the young lady in question never worked all the overtime she claims, based on a biometric hand-reader that workers use to punch in and out.
None of this, of course, would matter to Mr. Kernaghan. His argument is not that this or that factory is abusive but that the whole system is a crock. In the case of Setisa, to believe Mr. Kernaghan you have to believe not only that Mr. Hawkins runs a sweatshop but that everyone from the Honduran Labor Ministry to the compliance officer who works for Mr. Combs himself are either in cahoots or complete fools.
Though Mr. Kernaghan claims he doesn't want Mr. Combs or other American businessmen to pull out of their factories overseas, his sensational smear-first-get-to-the-truth-later campaigns only make it more difficult for them to stay. We're not sure we'll ever warm to P. Diddy's music. But when it comes to improving the lot of Honduran workers, we think we're singing the same tune.
