Most TV shows and movies that feature real human beings on-camera are written by members of the Writers Guild of America. Up until recently however, writers of animated cartoons were not represented by the WGA but by either (a) The Motion Picture Screen Cartoonists Union, (b) a smaller union that was affiliated with scenic painters or (c) no one. There were years there when being represented by no one was pretty much the same thing as being represented by either of the unions except that you didn't have to pay dues and there was a slight chance you might qualify for a Health Plan. The fellow who ran the M.P.S.C. (local 839 of I.A.T.S.E.) not only did not want to do anything for the writers, he sometimes expressed the opinion that we were overpaid and could stand to lose a few benefits.
Naturally, there was a certain antagonism between the writers and their union. In the late-seventies, there was a concerted legal attempt at what is called "craft severance." This basically means that a unit of workers carves itself out of one union and is then free to affiliate with another. Though more than 95% of all cartoon writers supported the move, it did not happen. The union wanted to keep us (we paid the highest dues rates and are the first ones who can halt production in the event of a strike) and the animation studios — for obvious reasons — wanted to keep us in the union that would never ask for more money on our behalf. Our employers and our union joined forces against us and we spent a few weeks in an airless hearing room at the National Labor Relations Board, thrashing out the finer points of labor law and trying to relate it all to the unique set of conditions involved in the writing of Scooby Doo cartoons. The statutes are all written to cover things like coal mining and fruit picking, and we had to apply that terminology to what we did. I guess we didn't do a good enough job because in a decision that showed all the wisdom of the first O.J. jury, we lost. We got a verdict that even our opponents admitted didn't quite make sense, though they liked the part that said cartoon writers had to remain with the union they wanted to leave.
As the pronouns in the above paragraph suggest, I was deeply immersed in the battle both as witness and as advisor to the WGA legal team. I was also involved a few years later when we tried again, attacking the problem from a different legal angle. This time, we won the first decision on a unanimous vote and then got reversed on appeal. Fifteen years later, the reversal was effectively reversed but by then, other complications prevented the original plan from being reinstated.
By then, I had long since decided my Norma Rae days were over and left the battle to others. I'm happy to report that changing times have enabled them to accomplish some (alas, not all) of the things we were unable to achieve in the eighties. A lot of new animation studios entered the field and they were not signed to Local 839 and were therefore open to a contract with the WGA, especially on prime-time cartoon shows like The Simpsons. Also, the guy at 839 who was indifferent to writers was booted out and his replacement is much saner and in touch with the industry. Today, The Animation Guild (which is the new name of 839) represents everyone at some studios but the WGA bargains for writers on a number of shows, and you can read more about all this in this section of the WGA website.
Over there, you'll see mention of the Animation Writers Caucus, which is a subset of the WGA catering to those who write cartoons. They're having their annual meeting this Thursday evening and among the items on the agenda is the presentation of the annual A.W.C. Award to the member who…
Hmm. You know, I just read the press release that says I'm getting this thing and I'm not sure what it's for. But the legendary announcer and cartoon voice actor Gary Owens is presenting it to me so it must be important. Guess I'd better shave.