The Dominion - cooperatives

Small Town Power

Tim McSorley — Fri, 13 May 2011 05:27:02 +0000

A community with energy to spare

HALIFAX—“I can get quite overwhelmed and pessimistic at the state of the world, and I get incredibly angry at our government, which seems to be intentionally ignoring its moral responsibility for the state of Canadian industry,” says Wilf Bean, a resident of Tatamagouche, Nova Scotia. “With [federal environment minister] Peter Kent saying that he’s not going to pass any legislation which restricts tar sands development...It’s absolutely irresponsible.”

Bean, a veteran social justice campaigner and adult educator with the Coady International Institute, explains his decision to become the secretary of Colchester Cumberland Wind Fields (CCWF), a small, community-owned company on Nova Scotia’s North Shore.

“Getting involved in something locally, with local people, and trying to build a community that is attempting to live out some alternative...It’s necessary to my own sanity,” says Bean.

With 125 local shareholders, CCWF has raised the capital to build its first 0.8-megawatt wind turbine, scheduled to be up and running by August of this year. It will produce “about the amount of power Tatamagouche [population 900] uses,” says Bean.

Through an arrangement with electricity provider Nova Scotia Power (which has a monopoly in the province), the wind energy produced by the turbine will feed into Tatamagouche’s substation, which provides electricity to the community. This means that once the turbine is functioning, the company’s “vision of community-owned renewable electricity generation” will be a reality, Bean says.

The community-based aspect makes the project distinct, explains David Stevenson, CCWF’s president. “It’s very rewarding for individuals to have a sense of connection to their own power, and I think we’ll value it more in the long term,” says Stevenson. “All of our power will stay within this area.”

Bean and Stevenson say the North Shore community, already close-knit, is being brought together on yet another level by the wind project.

“There is that pride, that sense of...being part of something,” says Stevenson. “We had a public meeting at the hall in September...There were people there from the Department of Energy, along with local people, and the expression that was given back to us [by the Department] was, ‘Boy, you sure had people on your side.’”

Stevenson and the directors of CCWF raised money through a CEDIF (Community Economic Development Investment Fund), a tax-incentive mechanism created by the provincial Department of Finance to promote investment in local business. As more than 90 per cent of Nova Scotians’ investments into RRSPs leave this province for the Toronto Stock Exchange, a CEDIF means people have better incentive to “[put] their retirement funds in our company,” says David Swan, engineer and manager of the turbine project.

The community-based structure and cleaner-than-coal energy are what led Renate Hempel, a local heritage interpreter, to invest in the wind turbine project. “I was very intrigued by the idea to support sustainable energy that at the same time wouldn’t be owned by a big corporation,” says Hempel.

Hempel admits to having some reservations about the project. For instance, the tax-credit mechanism that financed the project means that the incentive to invest is only there “for people who pay a certain amount of taxes,”—high-income earners, she says. “It’s community-owned, but for people who pay high taxes.

“For some of my neighbours in Tatamagouche, it wouldn’t make any sense for them to invest...their taxes are minuscule” because of their low incomes, says Hempel. “I’m having a little bit of a hard time with that…It’s not for everybody.”

Tracy Glynn, a lecturer in environmental studies at St. Thomas University who campaigns against the environmental and social effects of importing “blood coal” from Colombia to the Maritime provinces, sees the project as a positive step toward cleaner power in Nova Scotia.

But, she adds, it’s important to look beyond small-scale projects like this one and work toward “replac[ing] the capitalist system, which is inherently anti-environment.” Profit, she says, cannot be the only motive driving solutions to the climate crisis.

CCWF is a for-profit business, but one that bills itself on its website as part of a “response to the challenges of the centralized energy systems that resulted from neo-liberal philosophies”—that is, the philosophy that large-scale privatization is the most efficient (read: profitable) way to provide people with energy.

Many people in Tatamagouche glimpsed the impacts of that problematic system in 2008, when Jesus Brochero, a union leader representing workers from the Cerrejon mine in Colombia, visited the community. Cerrejon provides coal to the Maritime provinces via Nova Scotia Power.

Brochero spoke of the myriad hazards mineworkers in Colombia face. Earlier that year, a fellow union leader at the mine, Adolfo Gonzalez Montes, was “tortured and killed at his home,” says Glynn. He was one of 2,510 unionists murdered in Colombia in the last 10 years.

“In the Maritimes, we clearly see how capitalism has merely shifted ecological problems…through the sourcing of cheap, dirty, blood coal in Colombia for our energy consumption,” says Glynn.

David Swan is quick to note that those problems are catching up to us.

“It’s only in the last 200 years we’ve had this concept of ‘I will live better than my parents,’” says Swan. “We may have to go back to a more steady-state lifestyle, a mindset of ‘I won’t have more than my grandparents.’”

Despite her reservations, Hempel is quick to note that she believes the positive aspects of the wind turbine project far outweigh the negative.

“Overall, I think it’s great,” says Hempel. There are “open meetings with everyone, it’s very involved, very transparent.”

And, despite the small scale of the project, Wilf Bean emphasizes its place in the bigger picture.

“At least we’ll be using some clean power source,” Bean says, “and cut[ting] down a little bit on Colombian coal.”

Ben Sichel is a writer and teacher in Halifax.

The Coal In Our Veins

Nova Scotia’s addiction to dirty, bloody power

by ANGELA DAY

HALIFAX—Wind farms aside, Nova Scotia is coal country. Approximately three-quarters of the province’s electricity is derived from this fossil fuel and much of it is imported—but not without conflict.

“Indigenous peoples [in Colombia] have been displaced from their traditional lands for multinationals to access resources that are then exported to us for our energy needs,” according to Garry Leech, author and professor at the University of Cape Breton.

Cape Breton, a rugged island off the northeastern tip of Nova Scotia, used to be the home of coal mining in the province, and is where miners joined the first trade union in North America—the Provincial Workman’s Association (PWA). The PWA was incorporated in Springhill, NS, in 1881 by coal miners demanding better wages and living conditions.

Today, at the Sydney port not far from the union’s origins, coal is unloaded from Colombia.

Nova Scotia began importing coal from the US in the 1950s and 60s for reasons of quality, since the coal mined here was a dirty, low-grade fuel. “Then, taking advantage of...neoliberal economic policies in the late 1990s, the province began to import coal from Colombia instead,” said Leech.

He explains that over the past 20 years, globalization has had a huge impact on Colombia, “opening up Colombia’s resources to foreign investment, particularly in mining and oil.” Cerrejon, a coal mine in northern Colombia, is now the largest open-pit coal mine in the world, and is the reason many Nova Scotians (and New Brunswickers) can turn on their lights, heat their homes and eat toast. All of the coal mined at Cerrejon is exported to Canada, the US and Europe.

Leech dismisses the common argument that Cerrejon’s profit trickles down to Colombians. “While, on paper, this mine contributes to the country’s GDP, most of the wealth generated from the mine leaves the country as profit for foreign-owned multinationals. The people in the affected areas are often living in poverty, and their homes have been devastated.”

MiningWatch cites ongoing damage to homes and severe skin and respiratory diseases suffered by people in the area.

Alongside a deplorable track record of human rights protection and a decades-long civil war, these factors have led to Colombian coal being dubbed “blood coal.”

Nevertheless, Nova Scotia continues to source mass amounts of coal from Colombia, and Brennan Vogel, Energy Coordinator at the Ecology Action Centre in Halifax, says he doesn’t see the province moving away from coal anytime soon.

Nova Scotia’s electricity provider—Nova Scotia Power Incorporated (NSPI)—is a private company that is guaranteed a 10 per cent return on investment by the provincial government. Changing its infrastructure to an energy source other than coal would be an expensive process, says Vogel. Because of this, Vogel sees a need for a broader conversation about electricity.

“Is energy a commodity,” he asks, “or is it a right like water or food, that people need to be assured of?”

Leech says energy doesn’t need to be linked to human rights violations and can be more environmentally friendly. But, according to him, “this has never been the motive of NSPI. They have a monopoly in the province...So, as long as it’s profitable, they’ll keep doing what they’re doing.”

Angela Day is a writer, educator, urban gardener and community organizer with roots in Halifax. She currently coordinates programs for young women across HRM.

These articles were produced by the Halifax Media Co-op for A People's Forecast: The Climate Justice Issue, our 2011 special issue. Come launch the special issue in Halifax on Wednesday, May 18! To read more climate justice articles as they are published, click here.

Turbine Miner

Sharing Wheels

Moira Peters — Mon, 22 Nov 2010 05:43:38 +0000

Vancouver car sharing co-op’s success spurs private competition

VANCOUVER—I fired up my 1994 Volkswagen Golf. After two weeks of sitting idle, the decrepit car filled my East Vancouver cul-de-sac with thick blue exhaust. At the time—last year—I lived on East 10th Avenue, which is practically a highway for cyclists. I hung my head in shame as I pulled away and some poor biker disappeared, hacking in the toxic plume.

It was time for that horrible car to go.

In British Columbia you can trade in your crappy car for bus passes, bike discounts or a car sharing membership. This is how I discovered the Co-operative Auto Network (CAN). Formed in Vancouver in 1996 as part of a university project, the network has since expanded from a two-car, 16-member operation to one with 240 cars and more than 7,000 members. The network has also seen the rise of Zipcar, a competing car sharing organization that operates under a traditional business model.

Tanya Paz, client relations and development director of CAN, sees a couple of advantages of running car sharing as a co-op instead of as a for-profit enterprise. Besides the availability of seed funding from local credit unions, “people feel like they have more of a sense of ownership,” which motivates members to respect the cars, according to Paz.

In the beginning, 28-year-old Tracey Axelson, CAN’s founder, struggled to have her vision taken seriously—by insurance companies, the city and financiers—as she lacked business experience. . Car sharing organizations already existed in Germany, Switzerland and Montreal, but Paz recalls critics telling the organizers of the fledgling network that on “the West Coast, people will never give up their cars.”

Car sharing works best, according to Paz, in areas where there is a combination of easy, pleasant walking, safe cycling and frequent transit. The costs are worthwhile if somebody doesn’t need to drive every day and only takes short trips. For out-of-town trips, the per-kilometre rate charged by the co-op is often more expensive than renting.

“The car co-op program has taught me that I probably need a car in the future,” said Brandy Trudeau, a former Zipcar member and current CAN member, “because of my mobility issues and the fact that there isn’t a car right outside my door.” Trudeau has arthritis and found Zipcars were not easily accessible in her neighborhood. She is content with her CAN membership for now. “I actually like being able to try different cars,” she said. “The variety of vehicles is kind of fun.”

Currently, CAN’s roaming agreements with other car sharing organizations allow members access to cars in Victoria, San Francisco and Halifax, and Paz says CAN is working on expanding to other cities.

CAN has consulted for other car sharing start-ups around the world, but staff did not expect a private car sharing organization they consulted for to become competition. Zipcar launched about 10 years ago in Cambridge, Massachusetts and has spread to 94 American cities as well as to London, Toronto and Vancouver. Zipcar now has more than 400,000 members.

“Of course we never expected them to go to Toronto or come here,” said Paz. “But I would say that they made us grow smarter, and the amount of money that they spend on advertising has really brought a lot of members to us.”

CAN was already established in Vancouver when Zipcar arrived, so Zipcar employed a different growth strategy in the West Coast city. Paz is critical. “They don’t grow in a very sustainable manner and some of their business decisions don’t make much sense to me,” she said. Zipcar launched its Vancouver operation in 2007 with 100 cars and the expectation of expansion, but wound up culling the fleet to 80.

Whether co-operative or private, car sharing networks can boast that they help reduce carbon emissions—over three quarters of a ton per household per year, according to a June, 2010 study by the Mineta Institute at the San Jose State University.

The study acknowledges that at an individual level, emissions can increase. “There are times when it’s really nice to have a car and previously I would just suck it up or take a cab,” said Trudeau. “Now I find that instead I’m booking a car for a day and going and doing all the things I want to do. I find that I’m spending a little bit more money.”

Running a co-operative can be a challenge because it is subject to the whims of its ever-changing democratically elected board of volunteers, said Paz. Members do not necessarily have business experience. The board might request that staff use cheques instead of credit cards for business expenses, for example. “The reality of doing business today is that [using cheques] is quite a delay,” said Paz. “There are times that I’m sure the founder thinks, ‘Why didn’t I just own this myself?'”

Paz is passionate about the co-operative business model because it fosters a co-operative economy as a whole.

“It’s basically a different way of doing business, of thinking about things,” said Paz. “[Co-ops] have the heart of an NGO and the mind of a business. So you’re working for the best interests of the members, but also for the benefit of your society around you as a whole.”

Erin Empey is a Vancouver-based writer.

Car share

Weathering the Storm

dru — Fri, 06 Aug 2010 05:44:08 +0000

Cooperative Quebec sawmill thrives despite forestry crisis

MONTREAL—Quebec's forestry industry has seen regular, predictable slumps (recent downturns happened in 1974, 1982-3, and 1991-4), each accompanied by a round of layoffs in the province’s mill towns and forestry sector. Between the softwood lumber crisis in 2000 and the US housing collapse of 2006, 26,000 millworkers and loggers have lost their livelihoods.

In one corner of Quebec, communities have used a cooperative business model to defy the boom-bust cycles and short-term thinking that characterize much of the forestry sector.

For tourists, as well as for many urban Quebecers, the province’s effective eastern boundary lies at Tadoussac. Beyond here, on the north side of the St. Lawrence, extends a rugged territory where snow squalls in October are frequent, communities are sparse, and the expense of transport can make commerce difficult. Returns on investment are often modest, and in the days before the provincial government re-ordered and centralized the economy in the 1960s, locally-owned cooperatives brought electricity as well as grocery stores to many a North Shore town where private entrepreneurs did not see enough of a profit opportunity to attract their interest.

Sacre-Coeur, with a population of 2000, located fifteen kilometers from Tadoussac, is in most ways a typical North Shore community. The town depended on forestry for several generations, but by 1984, in the wake of one of the cyclical slumps, the local sawmill had undergone its third consecutive bankruptcy in ten years under three separate managements, and seemed set to close for good.

“We had a reputation as the [forestry] plant that had lost the most money in Quebec,” recalls Marc Gilbert, who was an employee at the sawmill at the time. “Nobody wanted to touch us.”

Ultimately the facility, which constituted the town's main industry, was to remain shuttered for two and a half years.

The town’s residents might have given in to fatalism; but instead, after the bank that held the mill's mortgage was unable to find a buyer and offered to sell the plant at liquidation prices, locals decided to undertake a ground-breaking initiative. Banding together to form the Sacre-Coeur Development Corporation [Societe d'Exploitation de Sacre-Coeur], they secured the support of a credit union as well as a provincial government subsidy, and bought the mill for $1.2 million.

According to those who know the local history, the motive in doing this was to forestall the flight of young people to the city and the slow death which is the bane of so many single-resource communities in unfavourable times.

After studying various models, the interested parties decided to constitute themselves as a single company called Boisaco Inc, owned in three equal parts by a loggers' cooperative, (Cofor) a millworkers' cooperative (Unisaco), and a consortium of local businesses.

An advantage of this structure, according to Marc Gilbert, who was one of the project’s founders and until recently served as company president, is that it allows the workers, as majority shareholders, to benefit from the management experience of the members of the business consortium.

Gilbert says that decision-making is rarely adversarial.

"We adopted a shareholder's charter that gave everyone [all three parties] a veto right on all big decisions," says Gilbert. "This forced us [to seek] a working consensus."

The model is superior to what typically prevails on shop floors, says Gilbert, where management squares off with unions and the need to explain (or debate) procedures slows down productivity.

Three months after its reopening in 1985, the combined advantages of a market recovery and the new management allowed the Boisaco sawmill to generate enough revenue to pay off all its debts.

Since then, the company has divided profit according to a formula that would seem out of place in the corporate world. Twenty-seven per cent is shared equally as dividends among the three shareholders; eighteen per cent goes to workers' bonuses, while fifty-five per cent (an unusually high proportion, according to Gilbert) is targeted—once taxes have been paid—to research and development. Part of this fifty-five per cent is also allocated to a rainy-day fund.

Sarah Toulouse, a recent Masters graduate in cooperative management from the University of Sherbrooke, has studied Boisaco. I asked her why the consortium of business shareholders would agree to finance Boisaco when they could have obtained a higher return on their investment elsewhere.

“In Sacre-Coeur the [business] shareholders are mostly...folks from the region,” she says. “Their priority is to keep the region alive.”

Today, Boisaco provides employment to about two hundred workers as members of one of the two founding co-ops.

Moreover, over the last twenty-five years as Boisaco has thrived, it has used part of its profits to acquire shares in diverse companies in the region with which it has then signed supply contracts.

In one such case, Boisaco provides lumber to Sacopan, a one-hundred-worker company founded in 1999 that operates out of the same lot as Boisaco in Sacré-Coeur. Sacopan sells fibrewood doorskins within Canada and to the USA. In the wake of the American subprime crisis, Sacpan's sales have helped keep Boisaco afloat.

“Historically, whenever [home] construction flags, [home] renovation takes up the slack,” says Gilbert, explaining a strong American niche market for the product.

Once the affiliated companies like Sacopan are factored in, Boisaco can be said to secure employment for six hundred forestry sector workers throughout the Upper North Shore.

It is source of pride to the company that it has come through the forestry crisis, now seen to be ending, without a high level of debt, and that it accepted a deficit situation rather than shut temporarily or resort to lay-offs.

And from conversation it is clear that the management sees this decision as rooted both in sound business sense as well as in Boisaco’s original social mandate.

“If we had stopped, we would have lost our best workers,” says Marc Gilbert, in response to my unstated question. “All those folks couldn't have waited four years. They would have lost their equipment. And when we wanted to start up again, how much would it have cost us to recreate all of it, and all that expertise?”

Chris Scott is a Montreal-based writer, researcher and activist who makes regular visits to eastern Quebec.

Boisaco

Cranberry Co-operative Goes Big in Rogersville

Moira Peters — Mon, 03 May 2010 05:07:26 +0000

Ocean Spray to take over 3,400 hectares in New Brunswick

FREDERICTON—Rogersville, a predominately francophone village in southeastern New Brunswick with a population of 1,100 and a greater regional population of 3,500, is set to become North America's largest cranberry-growing farm. In spite of the promise of jobs big agricultural brings, not everyone is supportive of the new cranberry beds.

"Whoever approved this project must not care too much about the environment. This is my opinion,” said Roger Babin, from the neighbouring village of Acadieville. “I've talked to people, some who used to go to this area for pleasure and now they hate to go there for a drive. Seeing what is happening hurts them. Others seem happy that work is being generated. We saw around 30 pieces of machinery working today. Yes, there is work, but at what price?"

Premier Shawn Graham was on hand to break the ground for the operations last June. "This project puts Rogersville on the map as one of Canada's key cranberry growing regions. Having an internationally recognized juice brand such as Ocean Spray choose our province as the location for a potential regional hub demonstrates that New Brunswick is the place to be for business and that we have the expertise to produce world-class agricultural products," said Graham.

Approximately 3,400 hectares of Crown land has been leased to Ocean Spray. The company plans to transform 775 hectares into profitable cranberry beds and expects to employ 100 people. Ocean Spray has invested $8 million in the first phase of the project and plans to invest $90 million over five phases. More than 100 acres have been planted this spring and another 200 acres will be planted in the spring of 2011. The first yield of cranberries is expected in 2012.

The government of New Brunswick granted conditional environmental approval to Ocean Spray to develop the cranberry bog on May 29, 2009. The project will involve withdrawing water from Lac Despres and impounding South Lake, about 20 kilometres west of Rogersville. Ocean Spray is required to monitor pesticide residues, in-stream total suspended sediments, groundwater levels, stream flows, effects to Lac Despres and South Lake and effects to endangered and rare species such as the Southern twayblade. The Southern twayblade, a rare bog orchid, has been found at only six sites in the province.

At the end of the project, Ocean Spray must restore to functional wetlands those areas lost to infill from the project. Babin wonders whether restoration of the wetlands is possible.

"What will happen to the water around the project if pesticides are used? Now there are many jobs, but once the project is running, how many people will be needed to keep it going?" asked Babin.

Babin, a 64-year-old father of seven, grandfather of fifteen and great-grandfather of one, has worked in the woods all his life. Surrounded by woods and encroaching clearcuts, Babin and his neighbours no longer make a living from the forest. Two of Babin's children have worked in Alberta and two of his grandchildren now work in Edmonton.

Babin has seen too many clearcuts in his area. He wants the government to protect the public forest for its watersheds and biodiversity—and he is not alone. A public survey commissioned by the government of New Brunswick in 2008 revealed that respondents in all areas of the province ranked the environment their highest value. The protection of water, air and soil was ranked as the most important forest value by 45 per cent of respondents, and the forest as “a place for a variety of animal and plant life” was ranked second by 38 per cent of respondents. Economic wealth and jobs ranked third by 17 per cent.

Today, Babin is a driving force behind a petition to ban herbicide spraying in public forests in New Brunswick.

****

Ocean Spray, started 75 years ago by three farmers from Massachusetts and New Jersey, is the largest cranberry growers' cooperative, supplying two-thirds of the world's cranberries. The cooperative has been North America's top producer of canned and bottled juice drinks since 1981. Ocean Spray made $1.9 billion in gross sales in 2008.

Ocean Spray growers individually own their bogs while the factories and the brand are collectively owned. To meet global demand for cranberries, the company decided to create a separate investing business from the cooperative. Ocean Spray's search for an ideal growing environment for cranberries led them to the bogs of Rogersville.

Tracy Glynn is an organizer with the New Brunswick Media Co-op (NBMC) and a director on the board of the Dominion Newspaper Cooperative. This article was originally published by the NBMC.

cranberry fields

Financing the Co-operative Movement

dru — Mon, 05 Apr 2010 05:59:05 +0000

For better or for worse?

OTTAWA—Securing financing is a challenge for any new business, but if you happen to be a co-operative it’s particularly difficult, says Lynne Markell, Government Affairs Policy Advisor with the Canadian Co-operative Association (CCA). “Traditional lenders don’t understand co-ops and there is a large dependence on members to provide the initial capital.”

Faced with banks and agencies that expect profits to override other concerns, the co-operative movement is beginning to look within for solutions, but challenges remain.

Traditional lending institutions seek applicants that are low-risk, high return. Formally or informally, lenders impose a set of conditions upon those seeking financing to ensure they are a “desirable” investment. By requiring a particular kind of business plan, management structure, or certain profit margins, lenders can influence co-operatives seeking financing to conform with traditional notions of how businesses are run. What is desirable from the perspective of the lender may not be desirable for the co-operative members, or the values they are trying to maintain.

Co-operatives seeking to build an organization that redistributes resources and decision-making to their members or their community are faced with the awkward situation of seeking funds from institutions that will steer them towards values opposed to their own.

While co-operatives are eligible for many Federal Government financing programs, few co-operatives are successful in securing loans. In the past five years, the Canada Small Business Financing Program (CSBFP) has made only 65 loans worth a total of $5.5 million to co-operative businesses (on average the CSBFP disperses 10,000 loans worth $1 billion per year). In addition, the agriculture financing program, the Canadian Agricultural Loans Act (CALA), did not make a single loan to agriculture co-operatives in 2009.

Sometimes it’s a case of not understanding the co-operative model. In response to a question about eligibility for a loan, one private funding program responded that co-operatives were eligible, so long as the individual applying for the loan held at least 50 per cent ownership in the business. This effectively eliminates all co-operatives since the basis of their model is collective ownership amongst all members.

One member of a worker co-operative in Montreal compared the relationship between co-operatives and mainstream funders as “jamming a round peg into a square hole.”

Sandra Mark and Frank Moreland, organizers of the Vancouver Food Co-op, vent their frustrations at the financing options for new co-operatives, in the latest issue of Making Waves. They lament that co-ops face a myriad of catch-22s and barriers to accessing capital and conclude that “social enterprises themselves and our friends in the general public need to enter the capitalization arena. If we wish to scale-up community economies we need to be ready with our own dollars to start the flow of capital.”

These concerns have been voiced for years within the co-operative movement. In response, the CCA and the Conseil Canadien de la Cooperation et de la Mutualite are lobbying the Federal Government for the creation of a Co-operative Investment Strategy. The two-part proposal consists of a Co-operative Investment Plan and a Co-operative Development Fund, both of which aim to provide increased financing options for co-operatives in Canada. The idea behind the proposals is to generate investment from within the co-operative movement itself—from members, employers and supporters.

Under the CIP, members and employees of worker or agriculture co-operatives would receive a tax credit for investing in their co-operative. The CCA estimates the CIP could generate upwards of $125 million in new investment, while costing the government only $17 to $20 million in lost tax revenue.

The proposed Co-operative Development Fund would operate as a loan fund, providing a source of low-interest loans to co-operatives. After an initial cash injection of $70 million from the Federal Government, the Fund would be self-sustaining. A similar program in Quebec, the Regime d’Investissement Cooperatif (RIC) has generated nearly $500 million since its inception in 1985, according to the Canadian Co-operative Association.

Several smaller co-op-led financing programs are already in existence. One, the Tenacity Works Fund, created and managed by the Canadian Worker Co-operative Federation (CWCF), provides an investment of $15-50,000 to worker co-operatives.

According to Hazel Corcoran, Executive Director of CWCF, the Tenacity Works fund is too small to meet the full range of needs of worker co-operatives, which is why, she argues, the movement needs the Investment Strategy put forth by the CCA.

Despite widespread support for the program (including an endorsement from the House of Commons Finance Committee), the CIP was not included in the Federal Government's latest budget, tabled March 4.

Even if the programs are adopted in the future, challenges remain. The CIP rests on the assumption that members and employees of co-operatives have money to invest in their co-op. In addition, for a Co-operative Development Fund to be successful, there needs to be buy-in not only from the Federal Government but also from the co-operative sector as a whole. So far, the co-operative movement has not been able to come together to form a national development fund, putting the principles of co-operatives supporting co-operatives into practice.

As co-operatives struggle to secure the necessary financing, are they falling into the trap of conforming to the capitalist business model and capitalist financial institutions? Even financing programs from within the co-operative movement bring a particular understanding of a “successful” co-operative, and tend to guide co-operatives towards conventional business standards and practices.

Some insight might be drawn from the experience of the non-profit sector. INCITE! Women of Color Against Violence, the editorial collective behind The Revolution Will not be Funded (published 2007), sharply criticized the non-profit movement for having become obsessed with the financial sustainability of their organizations, arguing that it has fundamentally weakened the movements it supposedly supports. They book quotes Ella Baker who argues, “We're getting praise from places that worry me," meaning perhaps it should be a concern that NGOs are perfectly in line with the priorities of funders.

Samuel Kuhn, one of the founding members of the Organic Underground, a co-op cafe in downtown Belleville, Ontario, said the tension between needing money to run the cafe and not wanting to conform to the requirements of financing institutions is constant. “We’ve faced so many funding crises in our three years that it seems unbelievable that we are still around...but we are!”

Perhaps that’s one of the strengths of the co-operative model: Organic Underground’s progressive politics and commitment to sustaining a community-run space has resulted in a loyal membership base. The Cafe, said Kuhn, manages to stay afloat despite the odds, “…surviving on spontaneous community donations or latte sales.”

For more information, visit the Cooperative Investment Strategy, and the Principles of Cooperation, developed by the International Co-operative Alliance.

Amanda Wilson is a writer and researcher in Ottawa. She currently works within the co-operative sector.

Organic Underground

Guatemalan Coffee a Complex Blend

Moira Peters — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 05:16:47 +0000

Threats, exile a bitter part of coffee farmers' work

HALIFAX—They call him “the Hurricane.”

Guatemalan coffee farmer Leocadio Juracan (his family name is close to the Spanish word for hurricane) has had a special relationship with many Nova Scotians—though most don’t even know it.

His coffee-farming co-operative—part of the Comite Campesino Del Altiplano (CCDA), or Highland Peasant Farmers’ Committee—has been delighting Nova Scotian palates with its fair trade, shade-grown organic coffee for close to nine years, through a partnership with Just Us! Coffee roasters in Wolfville, Nova Scotia.

Juracan is touring Nova Scotia this weekend, speaking to audiences in Wolfville, Halifax, Tatamagouche and Antigonish. The agenda focuses on more than just light versus dark roasts.

According to Kathryn Anderson, Maritimes Co-ordinator of the Maritimes-Guatemala Breaking the Silence (BTS) Solidarity Network—a long-time partner of the CCDA—the organization currently faces “perhaps the greatest threat to its existence since its founding” in 1982.

In May 2008, Juracan explained, after signing an agreement with Guatemalan President Alvaro Colom on a framework for rural development, the CCDA’s car was shot at six times while driving down a rural road. The car’s passengers thankfully escaped injury.

"CCDA coffee is about more than fair trade prices for local producers," said Jackie McVicar, Co-ordinator of BTS Guatemala and former BTS intern with the CCDA. McVicar believes the CCDA’s vehicle was targeted. "CCDA coffee implies political advocacy and ongoing work in the struggle for labour justice and access to land for thousands of Guatemalan peasants. This work is happening at both the grassroots and national level," she said.

Authorities chalked up the shooting to "common crime," an assessment that may seem reasonable in a country with one of the highest violent crime rates in Latin America. But since then, the organization has suffered through two robberies in which a total of $40,000 worth of coffee was stolen. Its leaders have received threats of murder and violence by letter and by phone. A “climate of terror” surrounds the CCDA, said Juracan.

“The robbery and threats the CCDA received reflect an attempt to destabilize the organization and delegitimize the work they are doing,” said McVicar. “CCDA coffee isn't just about better wages. It's about changing structures of oppression."

In February, the threats started to target Juracan’s children. He decided to leave Guatemala, at least until the danger subsided. With the help of Canadian allies, he discreetly left the country with his family, and they found their way to Vancouver.

“If [the threats] had been just toward me,” Juracan said, “I would have kept on.”

****

The coffee grown by the CCDA—known as “Café Justicia” and sold to roasters around the world—provides capital for development projects and a fair wage for the farmers, said Juracan.

He listed home construction, a rural hospital, health promotion, training for midwives, teacher pay supplements and educational scholarships as the CCDA’s ongoing projects.

But these “alternative” economic models are threatening to some, explained Juracan.

“Guatemala is not a poor country,” he said. “There is a sector of society that is extremely rich, that has appropriated the wealth of the country and excluded the majority of the population.”

This oligarchy has a vested interest in business as usual, said Juracan. He dismissed the theory that threats and attacks against the CCDA are the work of common criminals, noting they always take place immediately after the group takes a public political position: criticizing the government for lack of action on land reform, for example, an issue for which resolution is decades overdue; or condemning the murder of unionists. “We connect [the attacks against us] to political acts,” he said.

Residual violence from Guatemala’s 36-year civil war may exacerbate the current violence. The conflict, which divided communities and in which more than 250,000 were killed—most of them by military and government-backed paramilitary groups—left a legacy of violence that has been hard for the country to shake. It is perfectly plausible, according to Juracan, that his attackers would have connections to wartime paramilitary groups.

****

Juracan and his family planned to return to Guatemala after two or three months, hoping the security situation would improve. Unfortunately, in the few weeks since they arrived in Canada, there is no encouraging news.

"There is more news of harassment and intimidation, hooded men roaming the community, gunshots at night,” said the campesino.

During his time in Canada, Juracan said he would like to generate conditions for a return to his home country. Many CCDA members continue to work hard in Guatemala for political change, and Juracan plans to strengthen solidarity between the CCDA and concerned Canadians.

Still, said Juracan, he would rather his stay be as short as possible. Being forced out of his country for doing his work is a difficult pill to swallow.

Tomorrow, March 22 at 7pm, Jurican will speak at Immaculata Hall 202, Saint Francis Xavier University in Antigonish. CCDA coffee is available in Nova Scotia as Just Us! Coffee’s "Breaking the Silence Blend."

Ben Sichel is a writer and teacher in Halifax. He recently took a group of students on an educational trip to Guatemala. An original version of this article was published by the Halifax Media Co-op.

Leocadio Juracan

Co-operative Banking Bulks Up

Tim McSorley — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 06:18:05 +0000

Ontario credit unions weather the economic crisis

TORONTO—Two months ago, members of the Hamilton-based Nasco Employees' Credit Union stopped being members of the Nasco Employees' CU.

On January 6, Nasco Employees' CU was purchased by another Hamilton-based credit union: Prime Financial Savings.

It was a fate that a number of credit unions in Toronto and across Ontario have suffered since 2007 thanks to the global economic crisis. Although business pages in Canada mostly focus on the Big Five banks—Toronto-Dominion, Royal Bank, CIBC, Bank of Montreal and the Bank of Nova Scotia—credit unions have faced their own series of challenges and adjustments.

In August of 2009, I went to close my account at a small, local credit union on Bloor St. But something had happened to St. Mary’s Credit Union since the last time I used the branch: it was no longer St. Mary’s. St. Mary’s had been purchased by Ottawa-based Buduchnist Credit Union two months earlier.

Sources inside the credit union suggested that it had withstood a series of shocks due to the financial crisis. Fearing one more shock could have put them out of business, the bank began talks about being purchased by Buduchnist Credit Union.

When asked if this was the case, Buduchnist Credit Union CEO Oksana Prociuk said she did not wish to comment.

Statistics from the Deposit Insurance Corporation of Ontario website paint a rough picture of how credit unions in the province have fared during the credit crisis. Ontario currently has slightly under 200 credit unions and/or caisse-populaires. Nine Ontario credit unions were liquidated in 2006 (liquidation also includes dissolved, purchased or amalgamated credit unions). In 2007 and 2008, when the credit crisis was in full swing, that figure jumped to 17 per year before falling to eight in 2009.

Statistics from Credit Union Central of Canada’s third quarter results show a similar pattern: while credit union membership is up 0.5 per cent Canada-wide since the end of 2008, Ontario has seen a 1.4 per cent drop over the same period. The number of credit unions and their branches has also gone down more than the national average.

Art Chamberlain, Media Relations Manager for Central 1 Credit Union, said the downturn hit a variety of Ontario credit unions in a much different way than Canada’s major banks. Employment and growth have gone down sharply in Ontario, so instead of losing money on derivatives and bad investments, some credit unions lost money on the major casualty of the recession: people.

“The core of our business is straightforward: taking in deposits and putting out mortgages and personal lending (and a growing amount of small business lending). When there was a downturn, people lost their jobs and the low interest rate environment has not been very great for a number of years, so the spread on lending money has not been great. It’s been a challenging time for small credit units. Our operating costs have been a lot higher (than banks) and our fees have been a lot lower,” he said.

Ron Hodges, Vice President of Finance for the Toronto-based Italian Canadian Savings and Credit Union Ltd., said small-town credit unions suffered considerably because of their members' job losses. “Some of the credit unions are small and are set up to be a credit union for a specific plant. [When] that plant closes, it makes it difficult for the credit union not to close down,” he said.

Hodges' credit union, Italian Canadian Savings, took over some staff, deposits and the lease of the Portuguese Canadian Credit Union (PCCU), which was liquidated in 2009. According to Hodges, “The PCCU ran into financial difficulties; we tried to ensure that the Portuguese community continued to be served.”

Sources from St. Mary’s suggested the PCCU ran into trouble from the credit crisis, but Hodges was unaware of the reason for the PCCU liquidation, and the Deposit Insurance Corporation of Ontario said they could not comment because the matter was before the courts.

Credit unions in Toronto face a number of challenges trying to compete with Canada’s dominating financial institutions.

“We don’t have a huge visual presence,” lamented Chamberlain. “Market penetration is not great. We’re stronger in smaller towns around Ontario. The big banks are located here. The other challenge we face is trying to get our message around in an expensive media market.”

In addition to the slew of ads, Chamberlain said banks also generate advertising through branches and ATMs in full view around Toronto. While credit unions do have access to a number of ATM machines, they are not necessarily branded as such. “We don’t get the subliminal advertising around branches on street corners.”

The relationship with suffering Ontario workers may have hurt deposits, but it also forms the backbone of credit union lending.

“Our decisions around how we treat people and the loans we give are based on a relationship basis. A lot of credit unions are aware and active on community economic development, helping community groups, etc,” said Chamberlain. “We didn’t get caught up in the huge issues that caused problems with the US and big banks here because we weren’t involved in sub-prime mortgages here. Credit unions are a stabilizing force in the economy. There’s a committee working together; we’ve had a media campaign. Behind the scenes there’s been a network of credit unions to help out small businesses. Especially when times are tough."

By focusing on so-called boring, community-based lending, credit unions have managed to avoid the worst of the economic crisis that affected thousands of financial institutions worldwide. “They are less exposed than the banks. They are not international, which is both protective and risky in a more difficult area,” said Jim Maxwell, Chief Administrator and Financial Officer for the Deposit Insurance Corporation of Ontario (DICO).

According to Maxwell, overall, credit unions have been able to turn to methods such as amalgamation, fusing and buying each other out to protect themselves.  

“If you look at the system as a whole there is a consolidation of the system and growth. The system has grown at 5 per cent over the last 5 years. You can't look at the number of institutions; because of mergers branches are staying the same.”

Statistics from Credit Union Central of Canada show that the number of credit unions and branches has decreased Canada-wide since 2007. Ontario has seen both unions and branches decrease since the end of 2008, although assets, savings and loans have increased in both Ontario and Canada.

Several Ontario credit unions have fused together in the last few years. Amalgamation also produced Central 1 Credit Union in 2008. Central 1 was the fusion between Ontario and BC "central" credit unions. Central credit unions act as umbrella organizations for their regions, promoting the interests of their member Credit Unions and offering overall services and liquidity (cash to maintain operations). Similar fusions are planned for central credit unions in the Maritime Provinces.

Meanwhile, however, Prime Financial Savings, the Hamilton credit union that purchased Nasco Employees' CU, has already experienced the difficulties of amalgamation and the credit crisis first-hand.

In their 2008 annual report, CEO William Clark explained why Prime Financial Savings suffered a major loss: “This is attributable to costs associated with the merger of Credit Union Central of Ontario and British Columbia Central into a new organization called Central 1. This merger is the culmination of years of effort to rationalize the internal structures of the Credit Union System across the country.

“To facilitate this merger, Ontario Credit Unions purchased certain investments from Credit Union Central of Ontario. These investments have been impacted by the general deterioration of markets across North America,” he wrote.

According to Jim Maxwell, the trend toward larger institutions increases the ability to hire good staff and use more efficient and cheaper systems. At the same time Maxwell acknowledges that bigger unions face the challenge of maintaining their base in the communities they serve.

Gwalgen Geordie Dent is a journalist with the Toronto Media Co-op. This piece was originally published by the Toronto Media Co-op.

Buduchnist Credit Union

Bendable Business

Moira Peters — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 06:18:58 +0000

Cooperatives less likely to break in economic crises

OTTAWA—Mondragon Internacional (MCC), the world’s largest worker cooperative, has been the focus of a lot of media coverage in recent months, inciting discussion on how worker cooperatives have been affected by, and are responding to, the global economic crisis.

On October 27, 2009 the United Steelworkers announced a framework agreement with Mondragon to develop unionized worker cooperatives in the manufacturing sector in the US. Under the agreement, both parties have pledged to develop a model that combines the collective bargaining system with the “one worker, one vote” hallmark of cooperatives. While it will not be the first time worker cooperatives have looked to unionization, the scale and formal partnership of the Mondragon-Steelworkers proposal is without precedent and could signal a way for cooperatives and unions to work collaboratively in weathering economic storms.

Perhaps even more surprising, The Economist recently published an article on how Mondragon is coping with the current economic crisis. According to the article, cooperatives can react more quickly to such a crisis because workers decide themselves to cut wages or take unpaid leave, avoiding the delays of formal negotiations with labour unions.

Mondragon is the world’s largest worker cooperative, located in the Basque region of Spain. Started in 1956 by five workers, and inspired by the work of local priest Don José María Arizmendiarrieta, it has grown into a complex of over a hundred worker cooperatives, a cooperative bank, and housing and social cooperatives. It now employs approximately 34,000 people and is one of the largest producers of domestic appliances, machine tools and automotive parts in Spain.

However, Mondragon is not your average worker cooperative, and not everyone thinks that it is a great model to look to. While many people on the left assert that the prospering Mondragon is an example of how cooperatives present an alternative business model that puts its workers above profits (it is referred to as an “empire of egalitarianism” in a September, 2009 article by Kelly and Massena in Yes Magazine), there is also growing criticism that Mondragon is straying from its cooperative principles by centralizing decision-making, developing partnerships with capitalist firms and hiring more non-member workers.

So, beyond the mammoth Mondragon, how are smaller, less powerful worker cooperatives weathering the economic crisis?

The International Organization of Industrial, Artisanal and Service Producers’ Co-operatives (CICOPA) reported that cooperatives have been more resilient in the face of the economic crisis than other business models. Based on a survey it conducted of its members, CICOPA found that while cooperatives have experienced a downturn in production and sales, they have experience almost no job losses, focusing instead on adaptation measures such as a reduction in hours or wages.

CICOPA attributes this resilience to the combination of flexibility and security of the worker cooperative model. Participating in decisions about the future of their workplace, workers—who are also owners—collectively decide what they are willing to sacrifice for the long-term viability of the business, and ensure that this is achieved equitably. By contrast, in a traditional capitalist businesses, managers and owners may simply inform workers of a decision to cut wages or hours, lay off staff or force labour concessions to save profits, leaving workers outside the decision-making but front and center in the effects of re-structuring.

The fundamental goal of cooperatives is to provide employment for members, as opposed to other business models, which seek profits or return on investments above all.

Three worker cooperatives in Ottawa and Kingston have come up with creative ways to make ends meet. Though they were not easily made, these choices have kept their cooperatives alive and, in some cases, stronger.

***

A recent addition to Ottawa’s Centertown neighborhood, the Umi Cafe, is a cooperatively-run coffee shop, selling light meals and drinks, as well as hosting music and political events in the evenings.

Sergio Guerra, one of the directors of Umi, says the shop was hit hardest by the recession about a year ago when the Ottawa bus drivers strike made the economic situation all the more difficult, grinding the entire downtown to a halt. Without public transit, Umi saw fewer people coming through their door. During the worst of it—late fall and winter of last year—the worker-members faced the choice of either shutting down the business or not getting paid. Guerra says Umi didn’t loose a single worker; everyone stayed, even with low wages, because they were committed to the cooperative and their investment.

They also drew on the neighbourhood and called a meeting where they presented the coffee shop’s financial situation as well as what they needed to stay afloat. The community responded, raising the necessary funds to keep Umi alive, a testament to the solidarity built between the cafe and the neighborhood. For its part, Umi has increased the variety of its products to entice passersby into the cafe.

According to Guerra, the cooperative model—with its commitment to outreach and solidarity—was invaluable during the difficult economic times. Without support from the neighbourhood the cafe’s survival was uncertain.

They also consulted other cooperatives and received advice and support that might be unlikely from traditional competitive businesses. “Without that help and solidarity we wouldn’t have been able to do it, in other businesses it's all about competition,” says Guerra.

Also, as a co-op, it is in Umi’s interest to educate and empower its members; in return, members are committed to the survival of the business. The cooperative model helps to ensure that the perspectives of members are incorporated into the very direction the co-op takes.

Sergio says they’ve come a long way in a year: “We’ve proven that we can exist and we can grow.”

He finds humour in their difficulties, saying sometimes it feels like they are on the set of a sitcom: “We’re in season two, and its been very entertaining, not only thinking about the bottom line.”

La Siembra Cooperative, another worker co-op, manufactures and distributes organic fair trade chocolate and sugar products. La Siembra has twice been awarded the Worldwide Democratic Workplace Award by WorldBlu, a not-for-profit social enterprise offering programs, services and awards for democratic workplaces. Cailtin Peeling, the cooperative’s Marketing Communications Manager, reports that while La Siembra has been facing some challenging times, they’ve been able to use the challenges as an opportunity to explore new products and re-affirm their commitment to supporting their production partners in the South.

La Siembra was facing declining sales and stalled growth and was hit hard by the fluctuating US exchange rate. The co-op reacted by focusing its energy on areas where it was still seeing strong sales: baking products. La Siembra found that people still wanted to support organic fair trade products, but were doing so in a more affordable way.

That focus led several of their producer co-op partners to increase manufacturing capacity, allowing them to sell a higher value-added product instead of the raw materials. A producer co-op in Peru now manufactures chocolate chips to send to La Siembra, as opposed to the raw cocoa powder, allowing more of the revenue to stay with the producer in Peru. During the most difficult period, many of the workers at La Siembra took a voluntary reduction in hours.

Peeling says La Siembra has been able to use the tough economic situation to deepen its commitment to its values, not dilute them, by connecting with producer cooperative partners in new ways, and supporting the increased capacity of these co-ops to manufacture their own products. She says, “It's been a tough time but we’ve been really motivated for a longer–term vision.”

The Sleepless Goat, a worker cooperative cafe in downtown Kingston, has gone through a difficult year. While it hasn’t seen a reduction in overall sales, rising food costs and a realization that some menu items were in fact losing money, the Goat had to increase prices. Dave Burling, a worker-owner, says that while the cafe wants to keep menu prices accessible, without the increase the Goat likely would have gone out of business.

It has also been forced to make modest reductions in the number of staff working particular shifts, and has canceled its contract with overnight cleaners.

A sole owner of a business may decide it is in her interest to close up shop; however, the workers at the Sleepless Goat were committed to keeping their doors open, acting in their own collective self-interest to keep themselves employed. “Frankly, if the Goat had been a capitalist business it probably would have closed six months ago,” says Burling.

While difficult, the plan seems to have paid off: the Goat has recovered from the economic shock of last year. The cafe foresees some hurdles, including planned street closures due to construction, and the upcoming increase in minimum wage. Nevertheless, Burling is optimistic, saying that experience has shown that the cooperative model can adapt to change.

Worker cooperatives, like any businesses, are not immune to crises in the economy. They do seem to be surviving better than other business models, however. While every worker cooperative is different, the structure provides more freedom and control to adapt to a changing economic environment. What a cooperative does with that flexibility depends on its values and commitments and the strength of its community. At the very least, the cooperative structure gives workers choices in how to address the challenges they face, allowing them to take their fate into their own hands.

Amanda Wilson lives in Ottawa. She is interested in questions of alternative organizations of work and non-capitalist production and exchange models. She has an MA in Labour Studies.

Bendable Business

New Hope

Moira Peters — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 05:34:59 +0000

Bike co-op gives life to old bikes

HAMILTON—"This is the stage I like the most about fixing bikes,” Sid Slotegraaf, Coordinator of New Hope Bike Co-op and a soft-spoken downhill racer and dirt jumper, said while dusting off a "pre-loved" bicycle. "You don't always know how they would turn out. It's like giving them new lives again."

New Hope Bike Co-op, a program which focuses on helping people fix their own bikes—and providing low-cost parts, free use of tools and low-cost refurbished bicycles—is the brainchild of Jeff Neven, a cyclist and a father of four who can ride only once the kids are put to sleep.

The idea was born in 1997 when Jeff was working with inner city kids in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where he started a bicycle repair club for boys and girls. Upon returning to Canada, he continued to find opportunities and partner with groups like Recycle Cycles in Kitchener and MacCycle Co-op at McMaster University, serving communities with his bike repairing skills.

In the past three years, First Hamilton Christian Reformed Church and its church plant, New Hope Church, hosted a couple of single-day bike repairing events in East Hamilton. They had been well received by their neighborhoods. The success of these events furthered Jeff’s vision of developing a bike co-op in East Hamilton. This summer, New Hope Bike Co-op, backed by church donations and a grant from Service Canada’s Summer Job Initiative, finally became a reality.

Since its opening in June, the bike co-op has been serving 20-40 people per day in two locations: a bike shop in the Delta East neighborhood which is open Thursdays and Fridays and a stall at Ottawa Street Farmer's Market on Saturday mornings.

The bike shop is located in an out-of-business sports bar which was originally an upscale eating establishment in the '40s. With most of its furniture still intact, the space has been retrofitted into a bike shop by adding workbenches, tools and increasing numbers of donated bicycles.

In this purple-ceilinged bike shop with a red-leathered booth, people's hands are always covered in black. According to Sid, "The best way to learn about bikes is to get your hands greasy and work on one."

"The greatest thing about this co-op for me is that people not only get their bikes fixed, but they also bring home a new skill,” he shared.

Some, like Darrell Sanderson, who donated time at the bike shop, walked home with more than a new skill. He left the co-op with a bike, his fingerprints all over it.

"You love being here, don't you?" asked Darrell's mom, Janice, who came to pick up her son after work. The shy teenager smiled and nodded.

The three bike stands in the shop never stand empty. Whenever a bike is off the stand, another one is put up. Both Sid and Drake White, a faithful volunteer who never misses a day at "work," are trying hard to meet the high demand for bicycles and repairs.

"This is our next project.” Sid picked a dusty cruiser out of more than 160 donated bikes.

Restored bikes are put at the store front to await their new owners. As much as sales are welcomed, they can be heart-breakers for Sid, who has to let them go, at times unwillingly.

Once, as he watched one of his beloved bikes leaving with a customer, Sid held out his arms like a child whose favorite toy had been taken away from him.

"That’s my bike..."

Originally a summer program, the Bike co-op will extend its operation on Saturdays through the winter. It will return in full strength again next summer at the same location (1429 Main St E).

"Are you ready to take part in this restoration project?" Sid looked at me and my clean hands as he mounted another forgotten gem on the stand.

Phyllis Tsang is a graduate student at McMaster University who likes to study wide, think deep, write lots, and live fully.

A version of this article originally appeared on the Media Co-op.

New Hope - Old Bikes

New Hope - Workshop

The Dominion - Halifax Media Co-op

Van Ferrier — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 18:56:10 +0000

In February 2009, editors of the Dominion newspaper established Canada's first democratically-run news media co-operative in Halifax, Nova Scotia. New chapters will be sprouting up across the country to offer a progressive and community-based alternative to the corporate news model.

Venezuelan Cooperatives

dru — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 19:21:17 +0000

The excellent Upside Down World has an interesting, critical take on the Venezuelan cooperative movement.

Your Local Farmers Marketing

Thu, 19 Jan 2006 23:22:44 +0000

Ontario organic farmers form cooperative to offset razor-thin margins

"It turns out that you can't make money at farming unless you're a good marketer." photo credit: Bob Orrett

These days, it's not easy being a small-scale organic farmer. Profit margins (as confirmed by Statistics Canada over the past few years) are slim or nonexistent. Large grocery chains with regional distribution centres and centralized purchasing prefer to deal with suppliers that can provide a massive supply at a consistent rate and a low price. More often than not, this means buying from US-based suppliers who have economies of scale further bolstered by government subsidies, low wages (often paid to migrant laborers), and the artificially low cost of transportation.

With the deck stacked against them, small-scale farmers have to find a way to compete--or, as many farmers do, simply give up. According to Bob Orrett of Riverside Organic Farm in Campbellford, Ontario, "the problem as I see it is that profit margins are so low - in many cases, below zero - the only chance you have to make money at all is to market things yourself."

"If you don't cut out the middle man, there's not enough left to cover your costs. The only way we're going to do this is if we go directly to the consumer."

According to Orrett, it all comes down to marketing.

"It turns out that you can't make money at farming unless you're a good marketer."

Farming, however, is hard work, and doesn't leave a lot of time for selling the food one has grown. The situation is paradoxical, by Orrett's account. "You don't go into farming because you're a good marketer."

In 2003, a number of members of the Ecological Farmers of Ontario, found themselves in a similar situation. "We were all complaining about the difficulty of marketing our products," said Orrett. A follow-up meeting in January of 2004 led to the inception of the Quinte Organic Farmers Cooperative, with the aim of combining the efforts of several farms to increase the farmers' access to local buyers.

$3,000 in startup funds from Carrot Cache bought tables, containers for transportation and other essentials, and another grant paid for the development of a business plan.

Currently, 10 member farms share the tasks of transporting produce to local farmers' markets and selling it. All work is done by members of the cooperative, and they are paid for their work.

During the cooperative's first year, efforts focused on farmers markets in Belleville, Riverdale, Campbellford and Toronto. The cooperative's tables sold strawberries, mushrooms, vegetables, and meats

The Quinte Organic Farmers Cooperative's business plan calls for selling to specialty shops and restaurants as well as farmers' markets, but the flexibility of the latter and a lack of workers led to a focus on the markets.

"We met or broke our goals for the farmers' markets. We just didn't have the person power" to market to restaurants, specialty shops and other buyers, said Orrett.

Over all, Orrett calls the cooperative's first year "very successful".

"We are all still together, we all did better this year compared to last, and we have already started planning for next year."

This is not to say that starting the cooperative has been a painless process. Orrett says there is a "huge learning curve" for logistics and day-to-day operations. Quality control and delivery schedules have to be coordinated among ten farms. Also, due to slim profit margins on one side and low-priced competition on the other, pricing is a precision art for farmers.

Being a cooperative, according to Quinte Organic Farmers Cooperative's web site, means that it is an "autonomous, self-help organisation controlled by its members." Built into the idea of a cooperative is "a concern for community", sustainable development, and support and cooperation with other cooperatives.

Despite the delicate situation of family farms, Orrett remains optimistic. With rising oil prices, he says, the "efficiency" of massive industrial farms will become elusive. "Efficiency is going to be small scale local farming," Orrett explains.

Orrett thinks small farms have the advantage of being flexible, and able to change quickly to serve a local market, while industrial farms will be stuck with high transportation costs and fossil-fuel-based pesticides.

In the mean time, the cooperative promises to continue to be an innovative way for farmers to stay in business by working together and with the communities they serve.

Dru Oja Jay investigates how small farmers are cutting out the 'middle man' and doing the marketing themselves.

Where's The Boss?

Thu, 01 Dec 2005 22:50:52 +0000

Worker cooperatives will change the way you think about democracy

Conference participants discuss different models for worker cooperatives. photo: Dru Oja Jay

Peter Cameron is sipping a pint of fair trade cocoa stout, a beer made collaboratively by La Siembra, an Ottawa based worker cooperative specializing in fair trade chocolate, and La Barbarie, a worker cooperative microbrewery based in Quebec City. The beer, coined La Solidaria, is not yet on the market, and much like the worker cooperative movement itself, is still in the early stages of development. "As a movement we're still very young," notes Cameron. "The Canadian Worker Cooperative Federation (CWCF) is only fourteen years old. Ontario didn't even officially recognize worker cooperatives until 1991-92."

Cameron is worker-owner for Planet Bean Coffee, a worker cooperative in Guelph Ontario specializing in fair trade organic coffee. He's come to Montreal for CWCF's annual conference held from November 17th to 19th. The conference is not large, but with 110 registered participants it's the biggest one yet - and according to Cameron, the worker cooperative movement is on the rise.

There are an estimated 350 worker cooperatives in Canada employing around 11 000 people in sectors as diverse as forestry, retail, information technology and entertainment. To a customer, they may appear no different from a regular business, but an employee would never make the same mistake.

"You can see it in new workers who come in. They're looking for the boss," says Melissa Hoover, with a laugh. Hoover works at Inkworks Press, a worker cooperative based in Berkley California. Like other worker cooperatives, InkWorks is worker-owned and democratically run by its employees: There is no boss.

Inkworks employees meet regularly to make collective decisions about how the business should be run. At Inkworks this process is reflected in a workplace with a strong health plan, a press that only uses recycled paper, and a policy to donate or discount work done for local social justice organizations. According to Hoover, Inkworks' priorities are not unusual for a worker cooperative. "There's a lot of research about how coops are innately more accountable to their local and physical environment because that's where the people who work in them live. They have a track record of being more sustainable, more accountable, more involved, going above and beyond status quo environmental and work practices."

This kind of workplace conscience does not make worker cooperatives less competitive in the cut throat world of business, insists Cameron. In fact, it makes them more competitive. In the capitalist system, he explains, companies exploit workers and the environment in order for the ownership class to pocket a substantial profit. "That's a gap we can use to be competitive and take care of our workers. Plus, we have less strikes, we have less days off due to pissed off workers. People won't rip off the company cause it's their company."

The worker cooperative model is one that will appeal to young people, especially those involved in the anti-corporate globalization movement, says Ajamu Nangwaya, a doctoral student at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education who is studying cooperative entrepreneurship. "A lot of young people are dissatisfied with their experience in the workplace. They do not have a lot of control over decision-making. They see the disloyalty of companies, they've seen parents lose their jobs after twenty or more years with a company. There is a certain level of cynicism." Though many young people are aware of the bleak working conditions that exist both here and overseas, many are not aware of the alternatives, says Nangwaya. "For the worker cooperative movement it is our challenge to raise awareness and have the services in place to help them form worker cooperatives."

CWCF has taken on this challenge, and several young participants in this year's conference rewarded their efforts. Krystal Payne and Nick Scott were representing their newly incorporated youth-run worker cooperative. The Underground Cafe opened in Fredericton this year to a crowd many times the size of the Cafe's capacity. The vegan cafe specializes in local, fair trade and organic menu options. Geneva Guerin and Melissa Garcia Lamarca gave a presentation on the Sustainability Solutions Group (SSG), the coop they co-founded with three others, to the conference. SSG is a research and consulting firm that is also run by people under the age of thirty.

Although there were many young faces in the conference crowd this year, almost all were white. "It's very obvious when you go to a cooperataive gathering that there are some of us who should be at the table who are not at the table," notes Nangwaya. "In the US it's the same challenge. There are not enough minorities and oppressed racial groups in the worker cooperative movement. This is something we have to change as a movement."

For Nangwaya, once one starts thinking about workplace justice and democracy, one inevitably must address the injustices of society as a whole. "As a coop movement it's important for us to realize that we should be working to displace capitalism," he believes. "Because what we're struggling for is not just decent jobs and democratic work places but to transform society and economics. It is important for us to see the necessity of building democratic structures inside the communities in which we operate so that the worker cooperative is embedded in a community decision making process."

Nangwaya's vision for a new democracy is a far cry from the top-down approach most Canadians are familiar with. "Rarely do people get a chance to practice democracy in our own lives," agrees Hoover. "Not at school, not at home, not at work, so we don't have a lot of training in democracy. I think coops are the one place where people can feel their power as people and make democratic decisions. " Hoover believes that coops could help transform societal democracy, because once people know what real democracy feels like, they want more of it. "I've seen it happen."

Advocates say worker cooperatives will democratize the workplace - and they won't stop there. Hillary Lindsay investigates.

Give 'em the Boot!

Thu, 01 Dec 2005 19:40:57 +0000

Zapatistas and solidarity activists are taking 'non-sweat' apparel to a new level.

All profits from the boots go back to the Zapatista community. photo: Students Taking Action in Chiapas

It's been almost twelve years since the Zapatistas of southern Mexico said ya basta ("enough") to neo-liberalism and initiated a struggle for "a world where many worlds fit."

Today, the Zapatistas are creating a variety of participatory economic institutions to meet community needs: women's artisan co-ops, amber producers' co-ops, fair-trade coffee cooperatives and a non-sweatshop boot co-operative.

On a sunny July day, myself and a delegation of foreign solidarity activists tramped the muddy hills around Oventic Caracole, in the Los Altos region, to visit the First of January Boot Co-op. Rafael Hedez, a leading activist with the co-op, and several other compañeros welcomed us with cokes and bowls of snow-tire-tough beef soup stewed on an open fire.

Inside the workshop (basically a barn with corrugated iron roof, one of the higher-end buildings in a region of thatched farm cuts), a dozen or so men were busy cutting leather, tracing patterns, and heating branding irons. Large blue flames erupted as glue was melted to attach the soles.

After showing us around, Hedez proudly explained the ownership structure of the workshop to us. "We have no owner. Here we are all equals," he said.

"When something is needed, or when problems arise - all jobs have problems - then we have a meeting or a general discussion. If we want to do something without consulting the rest, we can't do that. We must present the job on behalf of everyone," said Hedez.

The co-op began on Jan 1, 1998, when two activists traveled from Chiapas to Mexico City to spend six months learning the trade. The independent workshop that trained Hedez and others has since shut down, due to a huge influx of low-cost footwear from China - but the First of January Co-op survives.

Its first priority is to provide high-quality, low-cost footwear for the surrounding communities. "We sell to the indigenous for 150-220 pesos (approx 25 USD), just enough to recuperate the cost of the materials," said one co-op member. "Here in San Andres there are shoes for 100 pesos, but they will only last for a season."

With significant national and international interest in zapatismo (a fluid political movement that strives to create change without seizing power), the cooperative decided they could use sales to non-indigenous supporters to help finance the development of the workshop. "We sell high boots to foreigners for 350 pesos and medium for 300. This is the price for those who are in solidarity with us, who," stresses Hedez, "are also Zapatistas."

Before ending his presentation, Hedez stressed the democratic essence of the organization. "This is the factory for everyone. We are all the owners. We are the coordinators who manage the workshop."

Democratic values notwithstanding, the factory has many practical problems: the machinery is very outdated, significantly reducing productivity, and component parts that can't be made on site, such as soles and laces, must be bought from a middle-person in San Cristobal de Las Casas at inflated prices.

Enter the Black Star Boot Collective - a Canadian youth-run organization dedicated to finding international markets for Zapatista boots and, more importantly, raising money to improve the workshop. They sell boots over the Internet and facilitate workshops to raise awareness about alternative models of production and social organization. "We try to organize ourselves along the same principals as the First of January Co-op," said Amanda Smith, an anthropology student in Halifax and a member of the Black Star Boot Cooperative.

"Organizing co-operatively," admits Smith, "is certainly trying. None of us have experience working with boots. It's a little disorganized, frustrating and often inefficient, but the project came directly from the Zapatistas, and at this point, it seems like the most useful thing we can be doing."

"It's less about selling boots than it is about the example we are trying to set: economic interaction based on international solidarity and workers producing quality goods without bosses," Smith added.

Since the uproar against sweatshop abuses in the early 1990s, major textile corporations have spent millions on public relations to showcase "good corporate citizenship" - as if such a concept were possible.

Some positive examples of non-sweat apparel production have sprung up in the last couple years: Sweat X was paying high wages to US workers (until it shut down), and American Apparel, who just recently opened a store in Toronto, pays workers in Los Angeles decent wages to produce un-branded high quality t-shirts and other clothing.

Commendable as these examples may be, their praxis is fundamentally flawed. They seek a half-hearted return to the post-war "New Deal," naively hoping decent paying nine-to-five factory jobs can thrive again in the era of neo-liberalism. And although workers have more say over their lives at the American Apparel factory than in a Nike or Adidas outsourcing operation, the non-sweat factories still operate within a centrally planned hierarchy.

In a sense, the Zapatistas - basically an agrarian movement - have leap-frogged the entire wage system with their forays into industry. Co-op members receive no salary for their labour; all profits are invested back into entire community, mostly to pay for public services, specifically health promotion.

"We have a difficult situation," admits Hedez, who is married with several children. "We sustain ourselves through what little we can grow in our milpas (fields). We have two days a week for working in the fields. We also buy various things, but very little."

At first glance, working roughly 40 hours a week as a volunteer seems over-zealous, if not downright exploitative. But factory activists have realized they can't pull themselves out of poverty individually, one by one. Key pillars of zapatismo like health, education, and work with dignity demand collective action, cooperation and mutual aide.

The First of January Boot Workshop is not a perfect model of economic democracy. The component parts for the boots - soles, laces, etc. - are bought from coyotes (middlemen) in San Cristobal de las Casas, and are presumably imported from sweatshops in China.

And, in the Chiapas highlands, the "glory" of worker-self-management exists alongside deplorable poverty that the Mexican government characterizes as "acute marginalization." Many of the workshop activists can't afford proper shoes for their own children.

Poverty is ubiquitous in Chiapas (and indeed, in much of the world), stifling opportunities for alternative economic arrangements - for however clearly you articulate your vision of a participatory economy, you can't make something from nothing. The workshop wants to expand production, but it's unlikely they'll get a bank loan for new capital; a 1994 memo from the Chase Manhattan Bank urging the Mexican army to "eliminate the Zapatistas" demonstrates how global capital deals with those who seek alternatives.

Still, the workshop's production is based on a key principle of zapatismo: "Everything for everyone, nothing for ourselves."

"Those of us with the privilege of a Canadian passport, who are 'also Zapatistas' by Rafael's definition, have a responsibility to help build participatory structures in re-developing areas," said Black Star organizer Dennis Hale. And not just because we're nice guilty liberals, but because we need them more than they need us."

Chris Arsenault travels to Chiapas to investigate a Zapatista owned and run boot cooperative that takes 'no-sweat' apparel to a new level.

The Co-Option

Wed, 05 Oct 2005 21:27:57 +0000

A Montreal housing co-op experiments with sustainable living

Co-op resident in the co-op's spacious communal area. photo:Dru Oja Jay

Marc, a stout curly haired redhead, is alone in the huge communal living room when I arrive. It is messy with people's stuff, building materials, signs, notes, posters, garbage pails full of grains, random works of art, and the occasional quote, scribbled haphazardly on the walls. "Death is imminent, wake with fervor", one warns. The room feels warm, alive, and free.

"This is one of my favourite spaces in the house," says Marc. There are four large couches and countless easy chairs and beanbags throughout the room. A couple of turntables and piles of records are set up in one corner, while another corner is host to a small library. Six large windows and a huge skylight over the kitchen flood the room with warm yellow sunlight, while a refreshing breeze blows through the middle. The dining room table has space for fifteen.

Co-op Genereux is a housing experiment initiated by a group of students exploring sustainable living practices. The co-op began as a spin-off of a larger project called MUCS, McGill Urban Community Sustainment Project. Since MUCS is still in its planning phase, some of its founders decided to put their research and theories to practice. By June 2003 they had gathered a group of ten guinea pigs that were committed enough to the project to each lay down a personal loan of $2,000 to finance Sur Genereux's beginnings. Next they secured a five-year lease for two 1600 square foot loft spaces and convinced the landlord to allow them to make the necessary renovations to house a large community of people. "We wanted to be able to finance the project ourselves, we wanted to avoid loans in order to be completely autonomous," explains Spencer Mann, one of the founders.

Loft beds are the fashion at Co-op Genereux, where an eight by eight foot space marked or divided by colorful curtains and tapestries could be home to two people. There are nine bedrooms for fifteen people. Each bedroom houses one to four, depending on its size. "We do have to forsake some intimacy," Marc, a more recent member, admits. "It is both fun and difficult. It is definitely a more efficient way of living. You have access to a much greater pool of resources. There is always someone around with the knowledge and tools to do whatever needs to be done. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts," Marc laughs.

What the co-op members forsake in space and privacy they reclaim in financial reward. The average monthly cost of living at the Genereux Co-op is $320. This includes rent, bills, three telephone lines, high speed wireless Internet, and three square meals a day, five days a week. Monetary gain is not the only advantage to having fourteen roommates. Both Marc and Spencer spoke of the experience they have gained in group facilitation and agenda setting, not to mention such other worthwhile skills as cooking mass amounts of food, making homemade soy milk, building walls and doing renovations, drying herbs, and the plethora of skills and abilities inherent in a group of fifteen. "It is interesting in terms of resource use," Marc explains, "In North America people don't tend to share things. Here we share everything from books and music to space and food. It teaches one to be conscious of the space one occupies in terms of both things and behavior."

Dish washing is a part of the co-op's chore rotation. photo:Dru Oja Jay

The group has weekly meetings to discuss house logistics, politics, and long-term planning and visioning. They rely on 100% consensus to make their decisions and have developed facilitation roles and a series of hand gestures to help their meetings run smoothly and efficiently. Co-op Sundays are a recent invention, where those who can get together to toss a Frisbee in the park, to participate in skill sharing workshops or anti-oppression training sessions.

Mealtime is at the heart of the community. Five out of seven days a week a team of two to three cooks prepares a meal for the household. They always make enough for thirty so that anyone may feel free to invite guests and to ensure leftovers for lunch the next day. The food is vegan in order to accommodate everyone. There are two other kitchens that people use for personal cooking and snacking purposes. "The meal preparation and clean-up take about four hours, but you only have to do it once a week, the rest of the week you come home and sit down to a warm meal," says Spencer.

The cleaning responsibilities are divvied up to one chore per week per person. Spencer admits, "The chores are what we struggle with the most. Sometimes it is difficult to keep everyone accountable for their share of the cleaning. It is important to find a level of cleanliness that everyone is comfortable with and can live with."

Beyond being an interesting experiment for the young and daring, the Co-op Genereux is a model of an alternate lifestyle possibility. "There is a narrow range of lifestyles that is perceived as fulfilling, happy, healthy, and feasible in North America. We want to explore possibilities and provide options by putting different ideas into the world," explains Spencer, "This type of lifestyle acknowledges the impacts of choices we make in our lives about everything from food, to money, to decision making, to socializing. It is freeing to acknowledge and understand the destruction of communities and eco systems and to then be empowered to make changes."

Spencer also speaks of communal living as a remedy to the loneliness and disconnection that many in urban society feel. "It is challenging, but also a very powerful experience. Living with so many people broadens the caring that I feel. Some of my roommates come from very different backgrounds and situations. Cooking together, building beds, and throwing Frisbees connects us on a more personal level and makes me feel more connected to their differences and changes. It is powerful to have such a sense of community. It is a very tangible feeling. They care about me and I care about them."

Juliet Lammers visits a Montreal housing co-op's experiment in sustainable living