It was written in the sky that the reform of the status of the artist would shake the foundations of the book chain. That we learn these days that it pulls in the split ranks of the authors does not surprise anyone. There is still a union culture to be established on both sides. What is even more surprising is that the Union of Quebec Writers and Writers (UNEQ) did not prepare the ground better before playing a trump card, the one laying the financial foundations for this highly anticipated revolution.
Invested with the important mission of setting up a framework of minimum working conditions for literary artists, the UNEQ adopted, in favor of the nascent summer, a resolution authorizing it to collect union dues from 2.5% to its members and 5% to non-members. However, this crucial resolution — inspired by local artists’ unions — was not followed up on diligently. It took nearly six months for its content to burst into the public space. It’s long, far too long.
Stunned, many writers, members or not, have called the professional association to account. “We did not draw these dues […] with a magician’s hat”, replied Suzanne Aubry in a word from the president who justifies the solidity of their legal foundations. She also detailed in an interview the steps taken since the sanction of the new law on the status of the artist, on June 3. We grant him that his modest team has done a colossal job in the meantime.
Still, there is a clear impression of waste. Authors and media will have suffered several refusals before being able to take a look at the short minutes of the general meeting of June 20. They thus understood that if the UNEQ did not play the conjurer, it did not less abuse the reassuring shadow behind the scenes. It appears that this essential resolution was indeed drawn up in a very small committee to be adopted by less than fifty people.
Let’s get it straight, there was a quorum; the resolution is legitimate. But was it moral to subject her to such conditions? All in all, 46 people (44 for, 1 against, 1 abstention) decided on behalf of the some 1600 members that the union claims, who form only a fraction of the Quebec literary world, of which no one knows the exact picture. It is little, much too little.
While the first stages of negotiations with publishers are shaking up, UNEQ cannot afford to display such a weak and disunited front. Mobilization will never be possible if the professional union does not succeed in massively bringing together its members and the non-member writers newly placed under its wing. If he does not want discontent and distrust to settle permanently, he needs, above all, a democratic catch-up session. Its credibility is at stake.
Note that this imperative of increased transparency (which already appears in its 2023-2027 action plan) works just as well in the other direction. In law, we like to remember that no one is supposed to ignore the law. Anyone who lives from letters also has the duty, with this law, to keep themselves informed of the conditions that will henceforth govern their practices. It is probably too late to go back on what was heard on the sly in June. But it is certainly not to invest in the continuation of this ambitious catch-up.
Poor relatives of a cultural environment accustomed to frugality, writers (but also visual artists such as those in the arts and crafts) will for the first time enjoy the same rights and privileges as other artists thanks to this law bearing the seal caquiste. Increased and standardized fees, durations of harmonized licenses, negotiation of collective agreements, social safety net, recourse in the event of abuse: on paper, the current revolution looks like sunny roads.
In practice, this upheaval will smash the (all relative) balance of a system hitherto based on the relationship between the author and his publisher. With works from here having the wind in their sails — with a phenomenal 21.3% increase in sales last year — it will be necessary to preserve this state of grace by rebuilding the balance and building bridges. Above all, there will be difficult questions to decide. What is a Professional Author? What are its roles, rights and privileges? Who do we want to protect? About what ?
Designed to protect artists from the pen, the most vulnerable link in the chain, the law has the power to tap the fingers of bad players and make them bend. Paradoxically, it could just as easily stifle the smallest links in the chain, such as independent bookstores or small publishing houses, which risk finding themselves faced with tough choices because of their weaker means. The book industry must therefore wake up, authors in the lead. Professionalization is underway, the end of the individual regime has sounded. The transition to the collective will be with him or without him. For him or against him.