Finding political willpower to ensure business enforces ethical labour

The law is a changeable entity. In 1821, one in two workers in Britain were under 20 years old. The balance shifted after the 1833 Factory Act, when lawmakers decided that textile mill owners should no longer employ minors under the age of nine.

Thankfully labour laws have become progressive over time. All bar 19 countries, for example, have now ratified the International Labour Organisation's Minimum Age Convention (the United States, Australia and India feature among the exceptions). The ILO's seven other fundamental conventions enjoy a similar international uptake. As a result, basic standards around core issues such as forced labour, fair remuneration and freedom of association now appear on most national statute books.

Yet abuses continue. Take one of the most extreme examples: human trafficking. Honduras, Malaysia and Morocco are among the 44 countries on a global watchlist drawn up by the US State Department. The list identifies states where the use of trafficked labour is widespread and where government action to stop it is limited. Despite the identification of 10,000s of trafficked workers last year, for instance, only 518 traffickers were prosecuted.

Delegates from over 100 countries are meeting in The Hague for this week's World Justice Forum summit to discuss how the rule of law can prevent such abuses from continuing.

The fundamental obstacle is lack of political will, says Margaret Levi, professor of international studies at the University of Washington and a panellist at the summit. In a global market place where poor countries compete with one another to win foreign investment, a seemingly inevitable "race to the bottom" ensues.

"In the countries where the worst abuses are going on, like in Bangladesh or Guatemala or Honduras, the governments … are willing to go along with non-enforcement of various labour regulations if that will attract companies", Levi states.

Forcing the enforcers

So how is it possible to get governments to enforce the very laws that they themselves have passed?

According to Levi, big business has a vital role to play. Like it or not, large corporations have clout. So if they get on board, others follow – willingly or not. One way companies do this is through internal codes of conduct. Over the last decade and more, clothing brands such as Gap and Nike have invested heavily in obliging their suppliers and sub-suppliers to comply with their stated ethical labour norms.

In the garment sector, most codes mirror the Fair Labor Association's guidelines, which reference compliance with all domestic labour laws as a basic component. Specific codes are also being developed to address especially egregious issues at sectoral or regional level.

An illustrative example at present is the Accord on Fire and Building Safety in Bangladesh, which has been signed by more than 60 global brands in the wake of the tragic Rana Plaza factory collapse in April this year.

At a more basic level, voluntary codes can simply bring to light the nature and extent of existing laws. The Dhaka Principles, which cover migrant workers' rights, are a case in point.

"The Principles are built on existing laws, but bring them together in a way that makes sense for business, government, trade unions and civil society", states Margaret Wachenfeld, director of legal affairs at the Institute for Human rights and Business (IHRB).

The incentives for multinational to lobby lawmakers for tougher legal enforcement of labour laws may seem perverse at first. After all, it's a lax approach to such laws that often attracts them to invest in such countries in the first place. Looked at from a completion perspective, however, it begins to make sense. If global brand A is spending more to ensure labour standards are met, then it wants to be sure global brand B is spending the same.

Of course, codes of conduct and other self-regulatory mechanisms suffer the same weakness as formal laws. They look great on paper, but they're worthless if not enforced.

Take the new Bangladesh accord. Peter McAllister, director of the Ethical Trading Initiative, refers to it as an "important milestone" but concedes that "the real test comes at implementation stage".

Getting big brands on board

This presents another critical question: what incentives are there for large corporations to pressurise governments to crack down on labour abuses?

The carrots, admittedly, are few. Good employment practices are not without their business rationale: well-paid, well-treated workers tend to have fewer accidents, stick to the job longer and be more productive. Still, weigh that against paying $10 extra per week (the average garment workers in Bangladesh is around $38 per month), and the short-term economics usually win out.

International agencies such as the ILO hope that awareness raising and training may have some effect.

In Haiti, Honduras and other countries where labour abuses are widespread, for instance, the ILO's Better Works programme sees factory managers receive instruction on labour rights. Over 90% of Cambodian factories now pay their workers the correct wages as a result of the initiative, according to the ILO.

The most powerful tool lies elsewhere, however. Workers and the labour activists know only too well what will really get big brands to sit up and take action: a threat to their reputations.

That's precisely the tactic being adopted by the Cambodian Centre for Human Rights (CCHR), which this month launched an interactive map connecting local factories to their global retail clients. The map details the names, locations, products and buying relationships os around 560 factories. Virak Ou, CCHR's director and another panellist at the World Justice Forum, hopes the resource will help the media and consumer activists "push greater transparency in the supply chain".

It's a circuitous route and one that's riddled with potholes. The resources of consumer groups are limited, the supply chains of large brands are often opaque and governments are not always open to listening – even to big corporations. Levi admits that, as strategies go, it's "second best" but insists it's the best option currently on offer.

Back in The Hague, the message from the summit is clear. As Radha Friedman, director of programmes at the World Justice Project, puts it: "The rule of law is not the rule of lawyers … It applies to everyone and everyone has a role to make sure it works."

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