The name is PR Wright, Mr Wright if we are doing business.
Folks like to treat the world of work as if it’s a set of separate boxes — the bargaining table here, the grievance process there, the day-to-day grind somewhere else. But anyone who’s spent more than five minutes on a shop floor knows different.
Everything touches everything.
Craft touches dignity.
Dignity touches solidarity.
Solidarity touches the contract.
And the contract touches how you sleep at night.
That’s why Rule No. 3 isn’t just about personal pride:
“Keep the name you sign clean.”
It’s about understanding how one good habit becomes the backbone of a whole community of workers — and how one sloppy standard can weaken the footing for everyone on the line.
Let’s talk about interdependence, the way my father taught it.
My old man worked the trains.
He’d say:
“Son, a porter’s day don’t start when he clocks in.
It starts when he remembers who he is.”
He taught me that keeping your name clean isn’t about looking good for a boss —
it’s about being ready when your brothers and sisters need your name to mean something.
Because here’s the truth most folks miss:
A clean name strengthens labor everywhere it travels.
When a crew is known for tight work, tight records, tight communication —
and for backing each other up with discipline, not excuses —
that reputation flows straight into:
- contract negotiations,
- grievance hearings,
- safety disputes,
- shift assignments,
- and every hallway conversation about respect.
When labor keeps its side of the contract clean, the whole union stands taller.
And when we walk into a grievance meeting, we can say with calm, steady confidence:
“There are no violations on our end.
We upheld the agreement.
Now let’s talk about yours.”
That hits different.
That is the kind of sentence that shifts a room.
But the truth doesn’t end there — it circles back.
Because the way we maintain our craft shapes who we are as a community.
And who we are as a community shapes what we can win.
A sloppy shop doesn’t win strong contracts.
A divided crew doesn’t win grievances.
A crew that cuts corners gives management permission to cut corners on them.
But a crew that keeps its name clean?
That crew becomes:
- trusted by each other,
- respected by the stewards,
- feared by any manager trying to bend the rules,
- and solid at the table when the contract expires.
It’s not obedience.
It’s alignment.
**Rule No. 3 isn’t “Be perfect.”
It’s “Be dependable to the people who depend on you.”**
There’s a world of difference.
Perfection isolates.
Dependability unifies.
And unity is the strongest bargaining chip labor has ever known.
Everything we do touches everything else we’ll need later.
You wire a panel correctly today?
That’s safety tomorrow.
Safety tomorrow becomes evidence in a grievance next month.
That grievance becomes leverage at negotiation.
That negotiation shapes your family’s finances for years.
It’s one line — one through-line — and the name you sign on the work is the thread that holds it all together.
So yes, keep your name clean.
But don’t do it to please anybody.
Do it to strengthen everybody.
Do it so that when the stewards need to lean on your record, it holds.
Do it so that the younger hands see what steady looks like.
Do it because the world is held up by people who keep their word.
**We give no one a reason to doubt us —
so that when the time comes, we give them no room to deny us.**
That’s the interdependence of labor.
That’s the Wright Way.
Now you know, Jack.
