I'm told that after I left the Writers Guild meeting last night, there was at least one member who got up at a microphone and, in an effort to stop a ship that had long since sailed, argued that the deal was not good enough to accept. That case can always be made, of course, and everyone knew that there were areas in which the offer was flawed. We do not negotiate with philanthropists, after all. Our reps face off with huge conglomerates who send out their emissaries with orders to not yield a single cent more than absolutely necessary. At times, it gets insulting how maniacal they are; how men and women who boast of the billions that their companies gross can be so muleheaded about denying you every possible dime. But it should not be surprising in this day and age.
Those who expect something much, much better than what the WGA achieved are destined to always be at the mike, insisting that the deal should be better. They're not wrong, at least in theory. Where they're often wrong is in that pesky "real world" part of the equation. And really, what's significant and quite unprecedented is that there were so few of them in this strike. I never thought I'd witness such togetherness in the Writers Guild of America.