Opinion ID: 4186977
Heading Depth: 2
Heading Rank: 2

Heading: the techs’ guard status

Text: That brings us to the gravamen of the case. Are the casinos’ surveillance technicians “guards” under section 9(b)(3) of the Act? Because the question is predominantly factual, Burns Int’l Sec. Servs., 278 NLRB at 569, we will disturb the Board’s determination only if it is “[un]supported by substantial evidence on the record considered as a whole,” 29 U.S.C. § 160(e), (f); see Local 851, Int’l Bhd. of Teamsters v. NLRB, 732 F.2d 43, 44 (2d Cir. 1984) (per curiam). The standard is deferential but not abject: “We may not find substantial evidence merely on the basis of evidence which in and of itself justified the Board’s decision, without taking into account contradictory evidence or evidence from which conflicting inferences could be drawn.” NLRB v. Tito Contractors, Inc., 847 F.3d 724, 732-33 (D.C. Cir. 2017) (internal quotations and brackets omitted); see Universal Camera Corp. v. NLRB, 340 U.S. 474, 488 (1951) (“The substantiality of evidence must take into account whatever in the record fairly detracts from its weight.”).
We cannot properly appraise the evidence of the techs’ guard status without first understanding what a guard is. So “[w]e begin, as we must, with the text of the statute.” NetCoalition v. SEC, 715 F.3d 342, 348 (D.C. Cir. 2013). Section 9(b)(3) of the Act precludes the Board from decid[ing] that any unit is appropriate for [collective-bargaining] purposes if it includes, together with other employees, any individual employed as a guard to enforce against 16 employees and other persons rules to protect property of the employer or to protect the safety of persons on the employer’s premises; but no labor organization shall be certified as the representative of employees in a bargaining unit of guards if such organization admits to membership, or is affiliated directly or indirectly with an organization which admits to membership, employees other than guards. 29 U.S.C. § 159(b)(3). The Board concedes that the Union “admits to membership . . . employees other than guards,” id., and that the Union therefore cannot represent the techs if they are guards, Br. of Resp’t 23; see Truck Drivers Local Union No. 807 v. NLRB, 755 F.2d 5, 8 (2d Cir. 1985) (noting that second clause of section 9(b)(3) “denies” union representing non-guards “the right to be certified as a representative of a unit of guards”). The question, then, is whether a tech is an “individual employed as a guard to enforce against employees and other persons rules to protect property of the employer or to protect the safety of persons on the employer’s premises.” 29 U.S.C. § 159(b)(3). As a threshold matter, the casinos contend that a tech is a guard if he is an “individual employed . . . to enforce . . . rules to protect property of the employer” or if he is an “individual employed . . . to protect the safety of persons on the employer’s premises.” On the casinos’ interpretation, an employee who protects patron safety can be a guard even if he does not “enforce . . . rules.” The casinos forfeited that contention by waiting until their reply brief to advance it. Bartko v. SEC, 845 F.3d 1217, 1225 n.7 (D.C. Cir. 2017). In any case, their interpretation is unsound. It ignores the “rule of the last antecedent,” under which we presume—absent indicia to the contrary—that a modifier does not reach back to a previous 17 phrase if it can be read to modify a more proximal one. Barnhart v. Thomas, 540 U.S. 20, 26 (2003) (internal quotation omitted). In section 9(b)(3), the phrase “to protect the safety of persons on the employer’s premises” does not reach back to modify “individual employed as a guard”; instead it describes the “rules” “enforce[d]” by that individual. After all, the same sentence first mentions “rules to protect property of the employer.” 29 U.S.C. § 159(b)(3) (emphasis added). It makes sense to read the second iteration of “to protect” in parallel fashion — i.e., to modify “rules” just as the first iteration of “to protect” does. Cf. Mills Music, Inc. v. Snyder, 469 U.S. 153, 164-65 (1985) (“It is logical to assume that the same word has the same meaning when it is . . . used earlier in the same sentence.”). In short, some guards enforce rules to protect the employer’s property and other guards enforce rules to protect people on the premises. But an employee cannot be a guard unless he enforces rules, be they the former kind or the latter (or both). Because a tech is a guard only if he “enforce[s] . . . rules” to protect the casinos’ property or patrons, we examine the meaning of “enforce.” The leading law dictionary gives it a broad definition: to “enforce” rules is “[t]o give force or effect to” them. BLACK’S LAW DICTIONARY 645 (10th ed. 2014). Similarly, the Board has long construed the concept “very broadly” in a manner that does not require “personal confrontation.” McDonnell Aircraft Co. v. NLRB, 827 F.2d 324, 327 (8th Cir. 1987) (citing Board cases). In Wright Memorial Hospital, 255 NLRB 1319 (1980), for instance, the Board concluded that ambulance drivers who were “on the lookout for fire, theft, vandalism, and unauthorized personnel” were guards. Id. at 1320. In the Board’s view, it did not matter that when the drivers “discover[ed] an irregularity or violation,” they took “no action on their own” but instead informed a department head. Id. The Board deemed it 18 “sufficient” that the drivers had “responsibility to observe and report infractions, as this is an essential step in the procedure for enforcement of hospital rules.” 8 Id.; see id. (“It is immaterial that [the drivers] do not themselves enforce these rules.”). The Board applied the same expansive interpretation in MGM Grand Hotel, 274 NLRB 139 (1985). It held that the operators of an electronic fire and security system at a Las Vegas hotel were guards. Id. at 139-40. Two operators per shift “monitor[ed] door exit alarms, stairwell motion detectors, a watch tour system, and other systems.” Id. at 139. The operators were only to observe and report; they left it to security officers to “deal[] with cheating, injury, theft, misconduct, and illness.” Id. Much as in Wright Memorial Hospital, the Board reasoned that the operators’ lack of direct contact with wrongdoers did “not detract from their guard status” because they performed “an essential step in the procedure for the enforcement of the employer’s rules.” Id. at 140 n.10 (brackets omitted) (quoting A.W. Schlesinger Geriatric Ctr., 267 NLRB 1363, 1364 (1983)). Congressional intent, discernible from plain language, supports the broad interpretation in Wright Memorial Hospital and MGM Grand Hotel. The statute provides that a guard is someone who enforces rules “against employees and other persons.” 29 U.S.C. § 159(b)(3) (emphasis added). The Congress’s purpose in passing section 9(b)(3) was “to minimize the danger of divided loyalty that arises when a guard 8 The Board’s expansive interpretation has led to guard status for a diverse array of employees, not only quintessential guards like security officers. See McDonnell Aircraft, 827 F.2d at 326 (citing cases involving, e.g., “unarmed courier service drivers,” “fitting room checkers,” “timekeepers” and “receptionists”). 19 is called upon to enforce the rules of his employer against a fellow union member.” Drivers, Chauffeurs, Warehousemen & Helpers v. NLRB, 553 F.2d 1368, 1373 (D.C. Cir. 1977) (Drivers & Chauffeurs); see BPS Guard Servs., Inc. v. NLRB, 942 F.2d 519, 526 (8th Cir. 1991) (“danger of divided loyalty” is “measuring stick of Section 9(b)(3) status” (internal quotation omitted)). And monitoring one’s fellow union members can result in conflicts of interest without personal confrontation. In its brief and at oral argument, the Board suggested the Congress’s purpose is implicated only “during periods of strikes or labor unrest.” Br. of Resp’t 23-24; see Oral Arg. Recording 23:29-23:39 (“[T]he question of divided loyalty is actually as to whether these guards would, say, refuse to cross a picket line or refuse to actually enforce a rule against another employee.”); id. at 27:01-27:05 (“[T]he policy stems from workplace disputes . . . .”). Granted, the Congress “may have had plant guards primarily in mind” when it enacted section 9(b)(3), inasmuch as it was “[r]eacting to” United States Supreme Court cases involving plant-protection employees. Drivers & Chauffeurs, 553 F.2d at 1373 (internal quotation omitted) (citing NLRB v. Jones & Laughlin Steel Corp., 331 U.S. 416 (1947); NLRB v. E.C. Atkins & Co., 331 U.S. 398 (1947)). But as we pointed out in Drivers & Chauffeurs, nothing in the statutory language suggests the Congress “was blind to the potential for conflict inherent in [other] employment contexts.” Id.; see id. at 1373-74 n.11 (no indication “that Congress intended to draft a provision limited to the facts of” Jones & Laughlin and Atkins). And, notably, neither Wright Memorial Hospital nor MGM Grand Hotel involved plant protection or labor unrest. 20
With the foregoing principles in mind, we turn back to the record evidence. Taken as a whole, it demonstrates that the techs perform “an essential step in the . . . enforcement” of rules to protect the casinos’ property and patrons, including enforcement against their fellow employees. MGM Grand Hotel, 274 NLRB at 140 n.10 (internal quotation omitted); Wright Mem’l Hosp., 255 NLRB at 1320. To recap just the highlights, the techs maintain comprehensive camera coverage of each resort, including the ever-changing gaming floor; they control access to all sensitive areas of each casino and have access to all areas themselves; they maintain alarm systems for the most valuable property in each casino; and they help spy on fellow employees suspected of misconduct. The Regional Director minimized these duties because they require “mak[ing] no rounds” and “watch[ing] for nothing other than issues affecting the surveillance system.” JA 439, 881. The Board “agree[d]” with the Regional Director and discounted the fact that the techs’ duties are “an integral part of a larger security system.” JA 443 n.1, 885 n.1 (citing Wells Fargo Alarm Servs., 533 F.2d at 124; Am. Dist. Tel. Co., 160 NLRB at 1138). We see at least four problems with the Board’s analysis. First, it gives no weight to evidence that the surveillance operators and security officers in the monitor rooms cannot properly do their jobs without the techs. See, e.g., Mirage Tr. 115 (Q: “[C]an the surveillance operator[s] perform their job without the surveillance techs?” A: “No.”); id. at 217 (Q: “Can the security department perform its function . . . without the surveillance techs?” A: “No.”). That the techs do not themselves observe, report and respond to misconduct is therefore not dispositive: they are “essential” to the process. 21 MGM Grand Hotel, 274 NLRB at 140 n.10; Wright Mem’l Hosp., 255 NLRB at 1320. Moreover, the surveillance operators and security officers cannot watch every live camera feed. That fact heightens the importance of stored footage, which the techs aid in extracting; it also helps illustrate the deterrent function that the cameras serve even apart from the monitor-room operators and officers. Consider Bellagio’s frequent tournaments, like the $500,000 baccarat tournament it held in June 2015. See supra note 2. In such tournaments, players face off against one another in an attempt to win money from a sizable prize pool. It is not “unheard of” for a player to cheat by “pilfer[ing] chips” from an opponent when no one is looking. Bellagio Tr. 83. Because the casino does not post a security officer to each table, “the cameras are the sole means of detecting that kind of theft.” Id. at 84. If the surveillance operators in the monitor room do not see the misconduct when it occurs, the stored footage can be reviewed afterward to resolve any dispute. Just as significantly, the cameras help “prevent” such disputes in the first place because the players know they are being watched and are less likely to cheat than they would be otherwise. Id. at 83; see id. at 126 (“We’re in a casino. . . . Everybody’s basically aware . . . that cameras are present.”). In short, camera coverage protects the players’ property and safety. This commonsense observation applies similarly to the casinos’ property: the existence of the camera coverage discourages dealer dishonesty and encourages dealer accuracy, just as the presence of the alarm system deters robbery. The techs are critical to the deterrence because they are critical to the technology. The techs, not the surveillance operators and security officers, investigate any tampering with the cameras — which are themselves casino property. The 22 techs, not the operators and officers, coordinate with regulators to maintain conforming coverage and ensure the continued validity of the casinos’ gaming licenses. The Board does not argue that the full range of the techs’ work could just as easily be performed by other personnel such as the operators or officers. Nor could such an argument succeed on this record: the surveillance and security networks, comprised of high-tech cameras and a “really fancy” “s[o]uped-up” computer system, Mirage Tr. 54, are complicated enough that the techs train the operators and officers on how to use them. Second, the Board gives too little weight to the type of employer we are discussing. In the agency proceedings it invoked two cases, respectively 41 and 51 years old, that necessarily did not involve ultramodern luxury casinos. JA 443 n.1, 885 n.1 (citing Wells Fargo Alarm Servs., 533 F.2d at 124; Am. Dist. Tel. Co., 160 NLRB at 1138). In MGM Grand Hotel, decided in 1985, the Board itself distinguished both cases, partly because they had “not contemplated” the “technological advance” embodied in MGM’s “vastly sophisticated” security system. 274 NLRB at 140 & nn.8-9. That observation applies with greater force 32 years later to surveillance and security networks that are more sophisticated still. The casinos’ networks protect high-end jewelry, priceless art, stockpiles of cash and the personal safety of revelrous guests who are not always vigilant regarding their own wellbeing. In that regard, the casinos are nigh sui generis. The closest analog we can think of is a bank.9 Cf. Mirage Tr. 9 Indeed, for some purposes under United States Code title 31 (“Money and Finance”), a licensed luxury casino is deemed a “financial institution” much like a bank or credit union. See 31 U.S.C. § 5312(a)(2)(X). 23 58 (main cage is “like our bank”); Bellagio Tr. 93 (“There’s [a] . . . lot of money in the cage.”). But even a bank does not have to contend with scores of live transactions every instant in a charged entertainment atmosphere. In this unusual setting, where all-encompassing surveillance is the paramount protector, the Board assigns too much weight to the fact that the techs do not “perform traditional guard functions,” Br. of Resp’t 30, such as carrying weapons, id. at 8-9, 25, and “mak[ing] rounds,” JA 439, 881. Third, the Board does not properly account for the fact that the techs can control what surveillance operators and security officers see in the monitor rooms. They likewise control which employees can enter “sensitive area[s]” like the server room, the monitor rooms, the art gallery, executive offices, count rooms and the main casino cage. Bellagio Tr. 89. The techs thereby enforce—i.e., “give . . . effect to,” BLACK’S LAW DICTIONARY, supra, at 645—their supervisors’ rules for protecting the casinos’ most valuable property. Other courts and the Board itself have indicated that control over access to physical property is relevant to guard status. See, e.g., Local 851, Int’l Bhd. of Teamsters, 732 F.2d at 44 (drivers were guards where, inter alia, they were “often given keys to the premises and security vaults of customers”); Wright Mem’l Hosp., 255 NLRB at 1320 (ambulance drivers were guards where, inter alia, they “check[ed] to see that doors [were] locked”). We see no basis for a different approach here. The Board ignores that, because of the techs’ know-how and access, the casinos must put “quite a bit of trust . . . in [their] integrity,” Bellagio Tr. 138, and subject them to stringent background checks. It does not require a screenwriter’s imagination to appreciate the risks of sabotage: the record is replete with testimony about how a dishonest tech might realistically abuse his position at the expense of his 24 employer. See, e.g., id. at 102, 251-52 (without need for “anyone’s approval,” tech could “maliciously” “shut cameras off,” “prevent [them] from recording” or “delete specific periods of time in the recording stream”); see also, e.g., Mirage Tr. 119-20, 248-49 (without “being detect[ed],” tech could enter sensitive areas or grant unauthorized access to others “at just the push of a button”). The Board argues that “[t]he potential for sabotage isn’t enough to make [a tech] a guard.” Oral Arg. Recording 32:1032:15. But even assuming the potential for sabotage does not suffice for guard status, the authority, access and trust conferred on the techs are relevant. See, e.g., Local 851, Int’l Bhd. of Teamsters, 732 F.2d at 44 (drivers were guards because, inter alia, they were “entrusted with a wide variety of valuable commodities” and were “subjected to security clearance”); Burns Int’l Sec. Servs., 278 NLRB at 569 (guard status may “depend largely on the extent to which [the employee] protect[s] . . . property”). Fourth, the Board gives no weight to the crucial fact that the techs help enforce rules against their coworkers, most obviously during special operations. In a special operation, a tech installs a secret camera in—or covertly locks an existing camera onto—a coworker’s work area so that other surveillance and security personnel can spy on the targeted employee. In denigrating the tech’s role as “limited,” JA 43839, 881, the Regional Director overlooked evidence that the tech is essential to the operation, Bellagio Tr. 222 (Q: “Would your investigators be able to perform the types of investigations that they conduct . . . without video surveillance?” A: “No.”). His analysis also overlooked that the tech is expected to maintain the secrecy of the operation, including by cutting off video coverage to other employees and, if necessary, lying to them about it. 25 The tech’s duties in a special operation squarely implicate section 9(b)(3)’s aim of “minimiz[ing] the danger of divided loyalty that arises when a guard is called upon to enforce the rules of his employer against a fellow union member.” Drivers & Chauffeurs, 553 F.2d at 1373. The operation can lead to serious consequences for the target employee, including termination and potentially prosecution. If the Union were to represent both the techs and their target colleagues, the techs might well feel pressure to tip off fellow Union members about particular operations. The Regional Director saw “[n]o evidence . . . that techs know the identity of the persons being investigated.” JA 436. We read the record differently. Although the techs typically are not given the target employee’s name, they are given “[s]pecifics” like the “nature” of the misconduct, “what kind of employee” is suspected of it and where it is occurring. Mirage Tr. 105-06; see id. at 164, 190, 195 (tech typically knows why he is setting up coverage in specific area); Bellagio Tr. 105 (he is typically “given details”). That information, it seems to us, would suffice for a conflicted tech to thwart a proper investigation. The Board characterizes wrongful disclosure of such information as a mere “possibility.” Br. of Resp’t 40. But Section 9(b)(3) is meant “to minimize the danger of divided loyalty.” Drivers & Chauffeurs, 553 F.2d at 1373 (emphasis added). The focus is on minimizing temptation, pressure and conflict, not on whether the tech will in fact betray the casino. NLRB v. Brinks, Inc., 843 F.2d 448, 454 (11th Cir. 1988) (under section 9(b)(3), “the realistic potential for divided loyalties warrants the complete separation of guard and non-guard unions” (emphasis in original)); see 29 U.S.C. § 151 (Act is meant to alleviate “industrial strife”). 26