WORKERS are challenging the Turnbull Government to rein in death company, John Holland, by removing its self-insurance privileges.
“If this government has any interest in workplace safety, beyond lip-service, it will bring John Holland to heel,” CFMEU construction division national secretary Dave Noonan says.
“Allowing a company involved in multiple workplace deaths to self-insure its liabilities is an insult to the people who have died and the families they have left behind.”
Noonan was speaking after the Federal Court fined the company $170,000 for its role in the 2011 death of 40-year-old husband and father Sam Beveridge on the trouble-plagued Brisbane Airport Link.
Eight Australians have died on John Holland sites since the company won a licence to self-insure in 2007. In the same period it has had six health and safety convictions in the Federal Court.
Four related to its culpability in the deaths of Wayne Moore (45), Mark McCallum (34), Anthony Phelan (60), and, now, Beveridge.
In issuing penalties over deaths, severe burnings and crush injuries, judges repeatedly cited the need for effective deterrence.
Beside those convictions, John Holland has negotiated its way into “enforceable undertakings” with Comcare, over other safety failings.
Only last month, it was telling the Adelaide Magistrate’s Court it should be let off with a “six-figure fine” after a 48kg pipe fell 15m, from a city building site, onto two cars below.
John Holland pleaded guilty to the first prosecution authorities had filed under the federal 2011 Work Health and Safety Act. Strong warning?
Against that background, earlier this year, Comcare rejected a detailed CFMEU submission against extending John Holland’s licence to self-insure and, instead, extended it for another eight years.
The federal Comcare licence is used by the company to block unions from using state-based rights to carry out safety inspections on its sites.
In any circumstance, Noonan says, a $170,00 censure over the death of human being is “completely inadequate”. In John Holland’s case, he labels it, “obscene” and “tokenistic”.
By way of comparison, the fine on John Holland – sold by Leighton Holdings for $1.15b last year – is barely half the amount Fair Work Building Commissioner, Nigel Hadgkiss, is seeking from a single CFMEU member over long-settled industrial disputes.
He is also seeking hundreds of thousands of dollars in penalties from the union’s South Australian branch over health and safety issues at an Adelaide workplace where two men have been crushed to death.
The fear, amongst some industry players, is that workplace safety is being sidelined as the government’s hand-picked regulator drums up corporate support for its political campaign against the CFMEU.
There were hints of that strategy on Brisbane’s $4.8b Airport Link – at the time, the biggest construction project in Australia.
The first thing to understand about this job is that it was a shambles.
Financially, the controversial Public Private Partnership put together to deliver the twin road tunnel, was a disaster.
The Brisconnections Consortium rested on a piece of financial malarkey that lured thousands of “mum and dad investors” to support corporate partners Macquarie Group, Theiss and John Holland.
Brisconnections won the Airport Link contract in June, 2008, amidst allegations of impropriety.
However, on the first day of trading, investors’ $1 shares were changing hands for barely 40 cents. Within a few months they were struggling to find a buyer at one cent.
Many non-institutional investors had no idea the small print on their contracts obliged them to buy further installments at $1 a share and, by 2009, Brisconnections was threatening to sue the lot of them.
This was the cue for notorious Sydney identity, Jim Byrnes, to inject his not-inconsequential frame into the picture. He tried to hit investors up for between $2000 and $5000 each to take legal action and, of course, to provide him with a “fee”.
The convicted heroin importer and “person of interest” in an unsolved murder, would go on to become a star witness for John Dyson Heydon’s trade union royal commission.
After Byrnes played his hand, the Australian Securities and Investments Commission (ASIC)
threatened to get involved, then a winding-up resolution was avoided by the last-minute sale of one disgruntled shareholder’s parcel to Thiess-John Holland, itself, for $4.5m.
In November, 2012, Brisconnections was suspended from trading and, three months later, administrators, then receivers, were appointed.
While Brisconnections was toast, its Airport Link toll road was sold to Transurban for $1.87b, last November, in an auction jointly managed by none other than Macquarie Capital.
That’s business. But the real casualties in this saga lived, and worked, in the real world.
We talked to former CFMEU assistant branch secretary, Peter Close, site organiser Bud Neiland and experienced health and safety co-ordinator, Andrew Ramsay, about a project that ran to the middle of 2012.
Close says a number of factors came together to make the tunnel one of the most frustrating jobs in his near 40-year involvement with the construction industry.
One, undoubtedly, was the Comcare licence.
John Holland, a construction company with a history of safety issues had been licensed by Comcare – the old Commonwealth public service safety regulator re-tooled by the Howard Government to allow corporations to self-insure their compensation liabilities.
“They had no bloody idea,” Close says, “they might have been good on safety in public service offices but they were out of their depth on construction sites.
“John Holland should never have got a Comcare license. We felt, when it came to safety, they hid behind it.”
Another issue, the CFMEU officials agree, was the anti-union attitude of the consortium.
They put this down to a collision of factors – corporate muscle flexing only three years after the arrival of WorkChoices, financial difficulties, and the desire of hardline IR manager, Stephen Sasse, to cement his reputation.
Queenslander Close reverts to his native tongue to explain the influence of Sasse.
“He saw himself as the Wally Lewis of IR,” Close says. Rough translation – he thought he was a dead-set legend.
Sasse had a track record. Industry chatter suggested he had helped the Liberal Government fine tune WorkChoices for the construction industry.
Certainly, he had used the new laws to hire Australia’s first construction workforce on a “greenfields agreement”. These so-called agreements allowed John Holland to set its own wages and conditions without the agreement of unions, or anyone else for that matter.
Twelve months later, Sasse engineered the transfer of that whole Port Hedland workforce over to take-it or leave-it individual contracts.
Sasse had a strong ideological aversion to the CFMEU, an opinion he was invited to express before Heydon’s trade union royal commission where, amongst other things, he testified that:
“The eight-hour day in 1856 was industrially unlawful at the time and it hasn’t really stopped ever since.”
In 2014, he delivered the keynote address to the annual dinner of the anti-union HR Nicholls Society.
None of this surprises those impacted by his influence on the Airport Link tunnel.
Yet, it has since emerged that Sasse – the industrial hardliner – had been deeply concerned about what was happening on his watch.
In fact, he had alerted John Holland executives, way back in 2010, that safety on the Airport Link was out of control – operating, as he put it, “in contempt of our OHS governance systems”.
“I have grave doubts about the management team’s capability in safety,” his confidential memo warned directors and senior managers.
Project management, to union minds, had set out to run the full anti-worker agenda, from blocking access to undercutting wages and conditions.
It marked the emergence, at least on major Queensland jobs, of the widespread use of untrained overseas visa workers.
A significant beneficiary was Lis-Con, a company battling the Tax Office over allegations of massive tax avoidance. Its labour hire division poured dozens, possibly hundreds, of Irish back backers into the tunnel.
Lis-Con chief Eion O’Neill, too, would be invited along to Heydon’s royal commission to make allegations against CFMEU members.
Earth moving outfit, Rocktown, was another that used imported, daily hire labour.
“They had low-cost sub-contractors using imported labour, even back packers, to work on the largest construction project in the country. Meanwhile, reputable local firms with proven records were missing out,” Close said.
The results, Close and Neiland contend, were predictable.
They recall one incident where a man, preparing steel reinforcing, managed to weld himself inside a metal cage.
“They had to cut him out,” Close said. “It might seem funny now but it shouldn’t have happened. Put it this way, a proper tradie would never do that.”
One morning, a crane carrying a 5m steel piling cage toppled over, narrowly missing vehicles on busy Lutwyche Road.
Another rush hour was disrupted when contractors in the tunnel managed to drive a large industrial drill bit 1.5m through the surface of the motorway above them. At least two motorists collided with the unexpected obstacle.
Other stories, reported by union members, were hair raising.
Ramsay recalls one worker plunging 6m through an uncovered penetration in air conditioning vents. He survived but, according to industry sources, hasn’t been able to work since.
Increasingly concerned, CFMEU officials put their fears in writing.
After gaining access, as part of a broader Builders Trades Group in March 2010, they set out 30 separate breaches of the Workplace Health and Safety Act they claimed to have identified.
The unions insisted that each be fixed and asked the consortium to instruct its sub-contractors to conduct “legitimate and transparent” elections for safety reps.
“It is in the mutual interest of workers’ health and safety and the productivity of the site that a process of collaboration is set up,” they wrote.
That went nowhere, so the CFMEU prepared another safety report and, this time, sent copies to political leaders, as well as Thiess-John Holland.
“We couldn’t get on there, that was the big problem,” Close said. “We had workers ringing Bud at all hours and asking for help.”
By September 29, 2011, it was too late – at least for Sam Beveridge and his family.
“They had him lying on cardboard, over cold concrete, and cutting steel beams above him. What he was doing was crazy,” Close said.
Ramsay says responsible workers were continually being urged to go harder and faster.
“I couldn’t say that if the CFMEU had had proper access to that job, Sam would be alive today … but honestly … what I can say is, I wouldn’t have walked past that, no way,” Ramsay said.
He is still in touch with Sam’s widow, Jen, who has become a champion of workplace safety and has gone out of her way to help other grieving families.
Predictably, Commissioner Heydon didn’t invite Jen Beveridge, or any of the hundreds of other family members impacted by workplace tragedies, to tell their stories before he recommended sweeping changes to safety laws.
Jen told us the diesel fitter had been a family man, never too busy to help other people. “There will not be a day,” she said, “when we don’t think of him or wish he could still be with us.”
Her husband was pronounced dead at the Royal Brisbane and Women’s Hospital on Saturday, October 1.
A day later, Neiland managed to get into the tunnel.
“I told them we needed to talk to our members, they were upset and they were angry. There were a whole heap of issues and they needed to be addressed,” he recalled.
A couple of hundred workers walked off the job near Kedron, where their colleague had been injured, and started marching along the motorway towards the Royal Brisbane and Women’s Hospital.
Traffic banked up as workmates emerged to join them.
They followed the route of their tunnel – over Swan St, through Lutwyche and Windsor, until, outside the hospital, they were more than a thousand strong.
It was an angry, solemn gathering that remembered a colleague and called on John Holland to lift its game and grant proper access to their elected representatives.
Noonan says construction workers hold “way too many” marches and meetings just like those ones.
“It’s time decision-makers started to value these lives,” he said. “Showing companies like John Holland there will be consequences for an appalling safety record would be a good place to start.”