The design industry has been exploiting labour markets for decades

I am a football lover. But I am also a designer who has spent over a decade challenging my industry’s environmental and social impact. As the World Cup begins in Qatar, a light is shining on human rights abuses and the deaths of migrant workers in the construction of stadiums and surrounding infrastructure. This greater awareness is a very positive step because, for the first time, society is starting to see clear and relatable examples of exploited labour markets, which is key to driving change.

But as I see the media coverage and social commentary, it’s clear we don’t understand the extent and depth of the problem. This issue of exploitation and social mobility is far greater than one World Cup. If anything, this tournament symbolises how the modern world works and how wealthier nations benefit from exploited labour markets. Qatar is rightly receiving fierce criticism over its human rights record, and I sincerely hope it inspires social change. But we must also be inward-looking and acknowledge the part we play in contributing to this system of exploitation, whether consciously or unknowingly.

The design industry has been exploiting labour markets for decades, which has benefited the vast majority of us. We need to connect the dots and understand that the consumer culture on which our economy is built is only possible because of the labour that produces our goods. A chair for £15.00 or a shirt for £5.00 is not the result of technical advances or manufacturing efficiencies alone, they are the result of exploitative and extractive processes. If we genuinely care about issues such as those raised in Qatar, then the design industry must do more to end its reliance on exploited labour. Follow the facts, and make better choices. Make truly great designs that positively contribute to the environment and society.

The Art of Sustainable Design in the 21st Century

I explore this issue in greater detail in my upcoming book: The Art of Sustainable Design in the 21st Century. The following passage is an excerpt from the book.

So, what is a ‘great design’? What do we focus on when we consider the relative success or failure of a product? I often hear products referred to as ‘great designs’, be it a car, a chair, a garment, or a building, when in fact, they are the products of great design. Design is a process, not an outcome. It is about far more than the final object or individual that purchases and uses the product.

The decisions that designers make impact individuals and communities right along the supply chain, at the point of material extraction, manufacturing, retail, use and disposal. So, the industry should think broadly when creating new products and services to ensure the impact of our decisions is positive. We should seek to enrich people’s lives at every stage of a product’s development because the decisions we make when we create something new have commercial, environmental, and moral consequences. When we consider the success or failure of a design, it should encompass aesthetics, quality and value, but it should also consider the environmental and social impact. We should judge everything from the sourcing of raw materials, right through to the end of the product’s useable life. When we get design wrong, we tend to focus on outcomes rather than inputs, products rather than processes. And, when we lose sight of the process, which is often linear, extractive and exploitative, we end up with damaging environmental and social costs.

Over the last 20 years I have been designing buildings and interiors around the world, and have rigorously researched where materials and products are sourced and manufactured. A common thread is that the furniture and materials that clad and dress our homes and public spaces are often the products of exploited labour, something that we neglect to acknowledge when we are fixated on the outcome of our endeavours.

In 2008, before my wife (Kate Sibley) and I set up our company, Sibley Grove, I found myself in the Middle East visiting a tile factory. I was working on a project that required an enormous quantity of tiles, almost 60,000 square metres — the equivalent of tiling more than ten football fields — so many companies had been getting in touch to try and win the business. The client introduced me to their preferred supplier, based in the Gulf. They had presented a very lucrative financial deal, so my client asked me to review the product and judge if they could meet the demands of the project. The manufacturer had a global distribution network, and the UK face of the business was slick and professional. The marketing material spoke of a state of the art facility with a deeply rooted commitment to sustainability. I’d also seen a selection of high-quality samples that were ‘on trend’ and met all the necessary technical requirements. On the face of it, this supplier appeared to be an excellent fit for the project.

I was greeted at the airport by a driver called Nasir (not his real name). A nice guy from Bangladesh who had travelled to the Middle East for work. He had recently become a driver for the company after working in the factory for several years, something he saw as a significant step up. As we entered the site of the production facility, it was difficult not to be impressed by the size of the place. The scale of production was far greater than anything I had ever seen; it was truly remarkable. Between myself and the rest of the project team, there was little doubt they could meet the demands of our project. After all, it amounted to a tiny fraction of their total output. However, I was more concerned about what I had seen when approaching the site — the sea of bunkhouses that accommodated the factory employees. While locals and expats occupied management and senior office positions, almost all of the factory workers were migrant labour from Pakistan and Bangladesh. The racial divide was quite striking, and when I left the plant I asked Nasir about the accommodation. He said that each bunkhouse slept six to eight guys and had intermittent air-conditioning even though temperatures regularly exceed forty degrees in the summer months. He also told me that they worked seven days a week, and the last time he had been home to see his wife and children was almost two years ago. He wasn’t telling me this in desperation or seeking pity. To people working in this environment, it is the norm, just the way it is. Nasir told me that at home in Bangladesh, there was no work or money. Coming to the Middle East had been a necessary sacrifice, even if it meant leaving his family in exchange for low wages and reduced civil liberties.

So what is the answer? On the one hand, the people who come to work do so because it is better than the alternative. But on the other hand, many of these businesses are set up to exploit desperate people to deliver products for unrealistically low prices. It creates a mainstream acceptance of a certain price point, and puts better businesses at a financial disadvantage.

One common view is that if businesses and brands stops buying products and services from cheaper markets, then the population will suffer as they can’t work their way out of poverty. But this is an untrue characterisation because a consumer culture, built on a linear/extractive system, applies unrelenting downward pressure. Instead of raising people out of poverty and providing opportunities for a better life, the design industry, along with the manufacturing and retail industries, keeps people trapped in a cycle of dangerous, low paid employment, with nowhere to go.

Downward pressure

Over the last twenty-five years, many of the world’s leading companies and brands have chosen to outsource manufacturing to developing countries. The attraction is obvious. Lower prices lead to an increase in consumption, greater control of the market and larger profits, but they can also enable the production of individual products that wouldn’t otherwise be financially viable. To give some perspective on this issue, I once had two quotes from companies to manufacture an identical steel-framed sofa. One from China and one from a London based manufacturer that was almost five times the cost. So why is this? Some of it is down to production efficiencies, experience or greater levels of technical expertise. But the truth is that the large scale production and distribution of products at very low prices is only possible because the bottom line does not reflect the true cost. The long term environmental costs linked to linear production and consumption — such as resource depletion, waste and pollution — aren’t fully reconciled when calculating profit and loss. These costs still exist, but they are kicked into the long grass, pushed onto future generations. Rarely do the perpetrators pay for the damage. In addition, some firms capitalise on weak employment rights, low wages and restrictions on freedoms to keep production cost low. Considering most businesses spend between 30% and 50% of their outgoings on payroll, companies can make huge savings.

We produce very little of what we consume in the U.K., and it is a similar story in other parts of the western world. For example, in Britain, the percentage of GDP attributed to manufacturing has plummeted to 8.9% in 2018 from 24.6% in 1980.[1] This decline is in contrast to the general trend of increased household consumption year on year.[2] So why has production declined as a percentage of GDP? Part of the decline is due to increased automation and fewer manufacturing jobs. Another factor is the growth of the middle classes, who are far less likely to work in manufacturing, preferring to work in the service industry. But the main reason is cost. The U.K has rigorous environmental protections in place as well as mechanisms to safeguard workers. These measures are costly to businesses and push up the cost of production. So removing these restrictions and risks — by outsourcing — gives companies the power to drive down wages and lower prices. I must say that this is not a geographical problem. There are fantastic companies all over the world, including China and The Middle East. We are all responsible, when the system starts to breakdown and become exploitative and extractive, because we benefit from it. Our way of life would not be possible without outsourcing and washing our hands of our environmental and social responsibilities. I have spent the last fifteen years travelling the world for work and visiting the factories and manufacturers that produce the materials and products in our designs. While there are some incredible companies, the reality is that a considerable number rely on overseas production, and in some cases, exploited labour markets and deregulated production, to lower costs and achieve better ‘value’ for money.

Designers rarely make anything. We typically generate ideas to be constructed and made by others. In our case, this can be bespoke furniture, joinery, fabrics and lighting, or ‘off the shelf’ items such as flooring, tiles, paints, countertops and ironmongery. When evaluating a product, it is understandable to focus on the style, the cost and the quality (or function). But the social impact of production and the associated costs are often ignored. We neglect the fact that ‘people’ make all of the things that we buy and use — decent, hard-working people with families and livelihoods. When we see a product that seems unusually cheap, it is easy to think of it as a cost-saving. But these costs seldom disappear or come out of efficiencies or technological advances. More commonly, the savings come from exploiting those in the most vulnerable positions — namely, the people and communities who produce the goods and supply the materials. But does this matter? As I explained earlier, people like Nisar need money. Surely, bad work is better than no work?

It’s just their industrial revolution

It is a moral dilemma because individual circumstances determine whether a situation is bad or not. For the majority of people in the U.K., working environments like the factory I visited in the Middle East are unrelatable, and most people would choose not to work, rather than expose themselves to such levels of exploitation. But what is unacceptable to us, can seem perfectly acceptable to someone in a desperate situation. It is all relative. So what is the solution? On the one hand, continuing to buy these goods ensures people stay employed, but at that same time, engaging with this system of working perpetuates many of the ongoing problems and injustices. In truth, the solution is neither; it is about creating systemic change by providing jobs that benefit people and the environment. A design process that sets out to enrich lives.

Over the years, many businesses have sidestepped this social and moral dilemma by subscribing to the idea that overseas employees will be worse off if we stop buying goods. After all, it is just their industrial revolution. Some believe that given time, these communities will work their way out of poverty to the benefit of future generations. While there is a shred of truth in this way of thinking, from my experience, the reality is that this approach is simply a lazy attempt to sanitise the truth and justify the continued access to cheap goods and competitive free markets.

There are two main reasons why I don’t believe the industrialised linear model is beneficial to people or a long term strategy for a fair and distributed system of wealth and prosperity. Firstly, in supporting this system of production, we contribute towards imposing restrictions and risks on people who are not in a position to decide for themselves. We have the capacity and ability to enhance working conditions now, so we shouldn’t accept any level of human collateral damage for the benefit of others — now or in the future. Secondly, our system of consumption and access to cheap goods only works if we maintain a poor and underprivileged population — in this case, an army of labour in the developing world. A group of people who earn less than they deserve, to keep costs down and products cheap. I acknowledge that individuals can work their way out of poverty to a certain extent, but if one group works its way out of poverty, another will have to replace it. The system — and the pressures we apply to that system — rely on an underprivileged majority at all times. The idea that the global population can work its way out of poverty is sheer fantasy.

We should not downplay, sanitise or underestimate the direct impact this system has on people. These communities are forced to sacrifice human rights and job security, as well as exposing themselves to heightened risks of injury and compromises to health. Simply saying that one generation must go through hardship for the benefit of a new generation is not acceptable, especially when globally, we have the benefit of 150 years of hindsight. Industrial disasters remain commonplace in the parts of the world that produce our goods. None are more tragic than the collapse of the Rana Plaza garment factory in 2013 in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Despite repeated warnings about the safety of the building, employees continued to go to work as a result of threats from employers. On the morning of April 24th, the building collapsed, killing over 1,100 people and injuring many more.[3] In the U.K., we are fortunate. We have access to free health care at the point of entry and relatively strong employment rights. We also have the HSE (Health and Safety Executive), which regulates businesses to reduce the risk of ill health, injury or death through work. While some may accuse the U.K. of being overly bureaucratic, the truth is that over recent years, the U.K. has used robust regulation to protect workers. According to a report by the Office of National Statistics in 2019, workplace injury has continued to decline over the last twenty years.[4] But while this is something to be thankful for, it doesn’t provide a complete picture. Workers in the U.K. are also at less risk than our overseas counterparts because we have outsourced high-risk and low paid jobs. Back in the early twentieth-century, manufacturing and mining disasters were relatively commonplace in the western world. On March 25th, 1911, more than a hundred workers died in a factory fire at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory in New York City.[5] The disaster helped to accelerate the growth of the International Ladies Garment Union, which fought for better rights and protections, and to this day, manufacturing disasters in the western world are rare. However, by contrast, countries like Bangladesh and Pakistan have seen human tragedies on an almost annual basis such as the Tasreen Fashions fire in Dhaka (2012), killing 112 people,[6] or the Ali Enterprises garment factory disaster in Karachi (2012), in which almost 300 people died.[7] Our economy, based on a linear system, relies on the production of really cheap goods — so cheap that we can afford to throw them away and replace them at regular intervals. It is an essential part of an economy based on consumerism. In the U.K., we would not tolerate low-cost production of the type I described, nor would it stack up financially. So I don’t believe it is acceptable to contribute to the downward pressure that feeds and perpetuates the problem.

The situation we find ourselves in is not new or unique. Nor is it something that has evolved over recent history. It has been a fundamental component of our industrialised system since its inception. William Morris — the founder of the British Arts and Craft movement — commented on this issue at a lecture in 1884. While criticising the industrialisation of the UK and the exploitation on which modern manufacturing rests. He said:

‘Society includes a great mass of slaves, who must be fed, clothed, housed, and amused as slaves, and that their daily necessity compels them to make the slaves-wares whose use is the perpetuation of their slavery.’[8]

A key point here is that although manufacturers — both then and now — carry much of the burden of responsibility, it also reflects poorly on us as consumers because supporting a system based on high levels of consumption and access to cheap goods is an endorsement of these practices. The problem is systemic, and we all contribute to it, whether consciously or unknowingly. Borders do not define these issues. We have a global economy and a global problem. While we continue to consume goods at such a rate, based on a linear system of consumption, then we are just as guilty as anyone else. For me, as a designer, it is more important than ever for my industry to reconsider its approach to design, assess the broader implications of our decisions and look for ways of working that leave a positive legacy.

References

[1] Buchholz, Katharina. ‘The Global Decline of Manufacturing.’ World Economic Forum, 13 December 2019, www.weforum.org/agenda/2019/12/the-global-decline-of-manufacturing

[2] Sabanoglu, Tugba. ‘Household consumption expenditure in the United Kingdom from 2005 to 2019 (in million GDP).’ Statista, 19 June 2020, www.statista.com/statistics/368665/consumer-expenditure-united-kingdom-uk/

[3] Foreign & Commonwealth Office and Department for International Development. ‘Case Stady: The Rana Plasa disaster.’ 10 April 2014, www.gov.uk/government/case-studies/the-rana-plaza-disaster

[4] Health and Safety Executive (HSE). ‘Health and Safety at Work: Summary statistics for Great Britain 2019.’ October 2019, www.hse.gov.uk/statistics/overall/hssh1819.pdf

[5] Von Drehle, David. ‘Uncovering the History of the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire.’Smithsonian Magazine, August 2006, www.smithsonianmag.com/history/uncovering-the-history-of-the-triangle-shirtwaist-fire-124701842/

[6] BBC News. ‘Bangladesh Tazreen factory fire: Police charge owners.’ 22 December 2013, www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-25483685

[7] Ur-Rehman, Zia. Walsh, Declan. Masood, Salman. ‘More Than 300 Killed in Pakistani Factory Fires.’ The New York Times, 12 September 2012, www.nytimes.com/2012/09/13/world/asia/hundreds-die-in-factory-fires-in-pakistan.html

[8] Morris, William. ‘Useful Work versus Useless Toil.’ London, Penguin Books, 2008, p. 9.