How to Neutralize Dissenters Make the whistleblowers, instead of their message, the issue: Discredit the dissent by attacking the dissenter's professional competence or virtually anything else that will work to cloud the issue.products and expanded co-op principles -Courage Without Martyrdom: A Survival Guide for Whistleblowers, |
Some flyers hanging in post offices and other public places have taken up the cause of a man virtually forgotten in mainstream society. In the inky headshot, his dark glasses, floppy denim hat and unrolled mat of a beard cut an image of an outlaw Orthodox rabbi.
This man, John Scannell, is known to Seattle Thunderbird hockey fans as "Zamboni John," the flamboyant driver of the cumbersome ice-smoothing machine who has for years created a fervor by high-fiving the crowd as he makes his laps.
But last Sept. 30, Scannell was fired.
While the dismissal order accuses Scannell of repeated safety violations, including wearing ice skates on the job instead of street shoes, the order makes no mention of Scannell's antagonistic history with Seattle Center management. In his 20 years there, Scannell has initiated a bevy of complaints and lawsuits on behalf of himself and other employees.
One of the most recent and publicized cases resulted in Seattle Center Director Virginia Anderson paying $3,000 in fines after the city Board of Ethics found that she violated eight ethics codes. The board ruled in August 1991 that Anderson had a conflict of interest when she administered a contract for the Pacific Northwest Ballet which involved Sellen Construction, her husband's company.
The flier displaying Scannell's picture asks the question: "Why was Zamboni John fired?" Quick to anger over the issue and fearing he might never return to his high-profile position, this renegade former employee will tell you he was muscled out by an establishment that got tired of his whistleblowing.
"Their whole argument is ludicrous," Scannell said. "Seattle Center is contending safety violations, but what's really going on is somebody's gotten their feathers ruffled."
The firing will be reviewed by a state arbitrator chosen by the city and Scannell's union, Public Service and Industrial Employees Local 1239. No date has been set.
Terry McLaughlin, the deputy director of Seattle Center who fired Scannell, said he made the decision independent of the Anderson affair. He added that, since the ethics charge, Anderson had removed herself from any personnel matters concerning Scannell. McLaughlin also said the decision had nothing to do with Scannell's legal charges and that Scannell was given several opportunities to change his work habits.
"It was a continuing tug-o-war, and John sought to repeatedly violate the rules," said McLaughlin, whose job involves acting in the director's stead in a variety of activities, including employee relations. "If John had followed the safety procedures, he would still be working here today."
In Scannell's mind, the firing is connected to a three-day suspension that McLaughlin imposed last February, citing Scannell for "high-fiving" and "initiating a wave while operating the Zamboni" during a hockey game. Scannell had begun the high-fiving four seasons earlier and had become an almost legendary character. He was the only one of three zamboni drivers who brought the fans running to the brink of the ring.
"Because of my appearance, I always got a big cheer," Scannell said, "so this high-fiving became a big event."
Citing insurance concerns, Seattle Center management in 1992 ordered Scannell to stop the high-fiving. But the crowd, expecting Zamboni John's outstretched arms, thrust their hands in his path anyway, Scannell said. He argued that the high-fiving which resulted in his suspension was purely self-defense. The Center did not sympathize.
"I think the record is abundantly clear that John was given every opportunity to be a member of the work family at Seattle Center and chose to go a different route," McLaughlin said.
The suspension prompted Scannell to file the first lawsuit under the state's 1993 Whistleblower Act, alleging retaliation for the ethics charge against Anderson. Much of Scannell's testimony revolved around personal safety, including protecting himself from the crowd. Forced to back his claim with a preponderance of evidence, Scannell lost the hearing and was forced to pay costs and attorney fees for one assistant city attorney for two days. The Center and Scannell split the remaining costs.
In addition to his whistleblower claim, Scannell raised another issue, which ultimately led to his termination. Scannell contended that it was safer to wear ice skates when doing his job, which requires speed and agility when moving the hockey nets out of the sweep of the zamboni. The Center disagreed, saying that it was safer for Scannell to wear street shoes on the ice instead of skates. Testimony during the hearing from a state Department of Labor and Industries inspector backed up the Center's position.
The state's testimony surprised Scannell and the union.
"We'd never seen that (inspector's) report," said John Masterjohn, business manager of Scannell's union, "and we were involved in that investigation."
To support his argument, Scannell contacted another safety expert and invited the expert to watch his pre-game preparations on Sept. 14. During his demonstration, Scannell put on a pair of skates for his work in the rink. When it came time to operate the fork lift, which is needed to lower the ramp for driving the zamboni onto the rink, Scannell slipped two skate guards over the blades and drove the machine while wearing the skates. He was fired two weeks after the incident.
McLaughlin's termination letter states: "I cannot accept that your intentional disregard for these policies and safety rules is excusable or merits discipline short of termination."
Masterjohn disagrees: "He didn't think there was anything wrong doing what he did. That's why we're taking it to arbitration."
By now, legal battles are old hat to Scannell. He scored his first victory in 1975, forcing the city to pay $5 million in back pay to temporary workers. At the time, Scannell was one of the intermittent workers who the city would lay off when they clocked 1,040 hours, thus barring them from vacation pay, medical leave and retirement benefits. When Scannell was laid off, he filed a grievance. He lost at every judicial level until the state Supreme Court ruled in his favor.
Scannell explains his determination as "just a defense mechanism" to help him fight the city in its effort to replace union workers and to keep his own job. Still, the sporadic victories, mingled with as many or more losses, have taken their toll on the rebel who seems to be preparing for his last stand.
"All of these I win in a certain sense, and all I lose in a certain sense," a relaxed Scannell said.
Before this last dismissal, Scannell had been fired seven times: once in 1975, five times in 1976, and once in 1979. Once a budding physicist, he has at times been homeless due to unemployment. Yet, repeatedly, he has fought his way back, ultimately working up to the position of ice specialist, which pays $15 an hour.
Not only has he lost that income, but also the retirement benefits he fought so hard to win 20 years ago in his first year with the Center.
For the time being, he is working as an assistant with a local attorney. The salary doesn't compare with his previous one, but "it's enough to keep me going," he says. Scannell seems happy in his new environment. But, he says, all he wants to do is get back on the ice.
"I know people will laugh, but I still maintain I'm worth two goals a game," Scannell said. "I consider myself an integral part of that work environment."
After years of successfully reclaiming his job, however, Scannell now appears tired and even skeptical about his chances.
"If you look at the stuff I blocked or stopped, or benefits I gained for employees, it probably cost a quarter of a million dollars for the city," he said. "But look at me: I'm 45 and have a reputation as a problem employee. You don't get rich on back pay."