Academic literature on the topic 'Union Trust Company of New York'

In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, New York State trust companies were successful, grew quickly, and failed rarely. The few failures, however, played a leading role in shaping the rules that governed trust companies. Because trust company failures were consistently interpreted as isolated departures from the norm of conservative management, trust companies were able to continue to participate in the rule-making process. The institutions that evolved promoted financial stability by imposing the costs of failure on decision makers and discouraging risky behavior. These failures shed new light on the treatment of failure and the development of corporate governance and financial regulation in the United States

In The Larkin's Technologies of Trust, Zeynep Çelik Alexander uses the card ledger invented by Darwin D. Martin, corporate secretary for the Larkin Company, as a starting point for a new history of a well-known modernist building: the Larkin Administration Building in Buffalo, New York, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. Founded in 1875 as a soap manufacturer, the Larkin Company had grown dramatically by the beginning of the twentieth century, in large part because of innovative marketing strategies made possible by ingenious information-processing techniques. But it was also thanks to Wright's designs for office equipment—informed by principles of modularity and interchangeability—that armies of “human computers” were able to maintain this information regime. Çelik Alexander argues that the bureaucracy made possible by the Larkin Administration Building's architecture has been a blind spot in historiography; she aims to offer an architecturally oriented account of the history of data as epistemic unit, contending that the Larkin's protodatabase was, first and foremost, a moral technology predicated on managing networks of trust.

This case study aims to outline and explore the implementation of a Joint Consultative Council (JCC) and the related outcomes, challenges and issues faced by an information technology (IT) company in Sri Lanka. Implementation of JCC in the company as a form of employee voice was a result of a planned intervention of the new Human Resources (HR) team of the company, with the intentions of increasing employee involvement, commitment, employee relations and most importantly, communication. At the initial sessions of the council ‘tea, towels and toilets’ issues were mainly discussed and an apparent gulf between the management and the employee representatives was apparent. While the council has given some form of voice to employees, it was clearly a ‘voice without muscle’, devoid of any significant joint decision making. After recouping the process to enhance joint decision-making and communication, the proceeding JCC regained the trust and enthusiasm of employees and management. There is a possibility of continuation and subsequent institutionalization of the JCC in the company. However, the process needs more time to establish itself effectively in the company with increased trust between parties. This case study provides practical insights into the creation of a JCC as a form of Non-union Employee Representation (NER) for knowledge workers, addressing a lacuna in knowledge on the practical implementation of JCC, as well as the practice of JCCs among different categories of workers such as knowledge workers. Insights drawn from the case can be used as learning points in creating successful JCCs in organizations.

Recently, interest and demand for “trust method maintenance projects” are increasing in order to promote stable projects in a number of maintenance projects (planned) areas due to rapid housing supply centered on public redevelopment projects and Moa Town projects in Seoul. The “Trust Method Maintenance Project” was introduced in September 2015 as an amendment to the “Urban and Residential Environment Maintenance Act” to solve the problem of delays in project promotion and lack of expertise. Previous studies mainly discussed how to activate trust method maintenance projects and differences from existing union methods, and studies on the “Trust Fee rate”, a major factor in determining trust methods, are rare. This study derives variables that affect the trust fee rate for the entire domestic trust method maintenance project from January 2016 to December 2021, when the trust method maintenance project was implemented. Based on this, multiple regression analysis analyzed which variables affect the trust fee rate and confirmed that “new total floor area”, “the size of the trust company (small)” and “regional impact (local)” were influencing factors. In other words, it was verified that the size of the project and the degree of risk of the project's progress have an effect on the trust fee rate. This study is significant in that it is the first study on the trust fee rate of trust method maintenance projects that have not been covered in previous studies after investigating the entire trust method maintenance project site in Korea. In the future, this study is expected to be used as a basis for judging the choice of trust method maintenance projects for owners such as unions or land.

I first met George Mosse in late August 1967. That summer I carried my worn copy of his book on the roots of Nazi ideology, The Crisis of German Ideology: Intellectual Origins of the Third Reich (1964), with Hubert Lanzinger's bizarre painting of Hider as a German knight on the cover, to Salzburg where I studied German before going on to graduate school at the University of Wisconsin. Though I admired the book, it did not prepare me for meeting the man. In 1967 I drove out to the Midwest from New York in my VW bug. To my surprise, as soon as I arrived in Madison, someone pointed him out, sitting on the Terrace of the Wisconsin Memorial Union in his short sleeve shirt, smoking his pipe, and arguing intensely with a group of students who were planning to sit in to block the Dow Chemical Company campus recruiter in the Fall (Dow was chosen because the company was manufacturing napalm).

This study evaluates the acceptability of home energy management systems (HEMS) in New York and Tokyo using a questionnaire survey. We investigated three basic functions of HEMS: money saving, automatic control, and environmental impact, and then quantified people’s propensity to accept each of these three functions by measuring their willingness to pay. Using the willingness to pay results, we estimated the demand probability under a given usage price for each of the three functions of home energy management systems and analyzed how socio-economic and demographic factors influence the demand probability. The demand probability related to a home energy management system function decreases as the usage price of the function increases. However, depending on people’s socio-economic characteristics, the rate of decrease in demand probability relative to the rate of increase in usage price varies. Among the three functions of home energy management systems, we found that the automatic control function showed the highest demand probability in New York and Tokyo, emphasizing the significance of an automatic control function. In New York, when the home energy management system has an automatic control function, its demand probability increases, which is further enhanced if people trust their utility company. In Tokyo, when a home energy management system has an environmental impact function, its demand probability increases at a given price. People in Tokyo have anxieties related to new technologies such as home energy management systems. Therefore, it is necessary to enhance their comprehension of a home energy management systems to address this anxiety.

The process of democratization of property relations has affected, first of all, the European area, and then the other parts of the world. Having been established with a clear economic and social content, without the ideological burden, the employees shareholding and participation have the conditions to expand, strengthen their power and become one of the important factors in the structure of the modern society. In our area, the process of the transformation of social ownership began with the employees shareholding. Company employees were given the right to buy internal shares under privileged conditions. That was the main form of transformation. There was trust in the company to initiate, organize and manage the process of transformation in its own interest. The funds obtained through the issuance of shares, selling a part of the company or the whole company, according to the express provisions of the law, belong to the company or its complex form. Later, already during 90s, ideological properties were unjustifiably attributed to the employees shareholding and participation, which led to their complete exclusion from the economic and legal system. By subsequent regulations, privatization was almost exclusively reduced to selling, thus excluding all other possible different forms of privatization. This approach lost the sight of the basic economic objectives of privatization: there was no acquiring of new capital or new investment cycle; there were neither new business entities capable of receiving and fertilizing the capital emerged, nor the privatization represented an incentive for dynamic development of economy and employment. Economic enterprises were extinguished, and unemployment increased. And now, in a much less favorable economic and social climate, it is reasonable to raise the issue of whether there are still conditions to engage the inner forces that would take upon themselves the responsibility for getting out of the crisis, by introducing the employees shareholding and privatization. A prerequisite for this is certainly the creation of a legal framework for the establishment and development of the employees shareholding and participation. This would simultaneously bring us closer to the legal system of the European Union and its member states, in which the employees shareholding and participation are widely established and legally regulated institutions.

Abstract Treatment at academic cancer centers can further research and improve patient outcomes. Interventions improving access to treatment across racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic boundaries might increase the generalizability of studies conducted at such centers and reduce healthcare inequities. Memorial Sloan Kettering (MSK) is an academic cancer center based in New York and New Jersey (NY/NJ). Like many other NCI-designated cancer centers, it has historically served a population within its geographic catchment, with limited diversity. MSK Direct is a national cancer benefits program that partners with employers and unions to provide a direct referral service for their employees or members and their families, including in-person care and remote second opinions outside NY/NJ. Whether such programs diversify access to academic cancer care is understudied. To evaluate whether the service diversifies access to academic cancer care, we examined the self-identified race and ethnicity, geographic composition, and imputed socioeconomic status (Yost Index) of MSK Direct and non-MSK Direct (Control) patients with at least one assessment note at MSK since program inception in 2016 until September 21, 2023. We further stratified MSK Direct patients based on referral by employers vs. unions. Groups were compared using Chi-square or Student T tests. The MSK Direct patient population (N=8,604) was more racially diverse than the Control population (N=283,434), with 9.0% Black/African American patients compared to 6.9% Control (p<0.001) patients and 9.3% Asian-Far East/Indian Subcontinental patients compared to 7.5% Control patients (p<0.001). Of MSK Direct patients, 10.5% identified as Hispanic or Latino vs. 7.5% of Control patients (p<0.001). Among MSK Direct patients, 14.2% of union-member patients self-identified as Black vs. 6.1% of non-union members, while Asian patients comprised 12.1% of company-referral patients vs. 5.8% of union patients. Hispanic patients represented 17.4% of union-referral patients vs. 6.5% of company referrals. The median Yost Index of union MSK Direct patients was 25 vs. 12 (non-union) and 17 (Control, p<0.001), signifying a less privileged socioeconomic status for union-referred patients. A total of N=336 MSK Direct patients received guidance through remote second opinions across 41 states, with the most common home states being Georgia, Arizona, and Florida. Addressing healthcare disparities in diverse populations is a complex and systemic challenge. Direct partnerships with employers and unions are a new paradigm that may expand access to academic cancer care outside a center’s usual geographic and sociodemographic catchment. Different partnering strategies may enhance the representation of specific patient populations. Citation Format: Michele Waters, Greg Crewse, Cole Manship, Abigail Baldwin-Medsker, Chris Fong, Nikolaus Schultz, Sergio Giralt, Benjamin Roman, Michelle Johnson, Francesca Gany, Carol Brown, Bob T. Li, Justin Jee. Direct partnering with employers and unions diversifies cancer center access [abstract]. In: Proceedings of the American Association for Cancer Research Annual Meeting 2024; Part 1 (Regular Abstracts); 2024 Apr 5-10; San Diego, CA. Philadelphia (PA): AACR; Cancer Res 2024;84(6_Suppl):Abstract nr 1009.

Abstract Contending against the Depression while benefiting from the New Deal, working-class organizations advanced. Many workers in the now-beleaguered telegraph industry formed militant industrial unions, notably, the Communist-led American Communications Association (ACA), which obtained a charter from the surging, socially conscious Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO). In 1937, this small union was awarded sweeping jurisdiction over the telegraph industry, the radio industry—and much of the telephone industry. Supported by the CIO, ACA grew, got Western Union’s inhouse company union legally decertified, and gained a foothold at Western Union’s New York City hub. Through political action and with rank-and-file support, ACA worked to equate labor’s interest with the wider public interest, as its tenacious struggle to fend off a job-destroying telegraph industry merger demonstrated. The merger finally occurred (1943), and a 1944 representation election at Western Union produced a lackluster result. ACA then turned full attention to the telephone industry.

Chapter 4 analyzes New York City Ballet’s (NYCB’s) 1962 tour of the Soviet Union and the Soviet reception of NYCB choreographer George Balanchine. Previous scholarly accounts have claimed the Soviet reviews of Balanchine’s works were heavily censored, and that, as a result, the tour undermined the authority of the Soviet government with the intelligentsia. Chapter 4 re-examines this tour, using transliteration as a way of modeling the Soviet response to Balanchine. This re-examination shows that Soviet cultural authorities were not at all hostile to the choreographer or his company. The Soviet critics mostly accepted Balanchine’s ballets, but they reframed his accomplishments within their own debates about drambalet and choreographic symphonism. According to Balanchine’s Soviet critics, his works were successful precisely because they reaffirmed the value of the Russian systems of training, artistry, and meaning.

Abstract We met in 1981 at Union Theological Seminary in New York. Professor Wainwright spent almost a whole day as my host, showing me around and talking theology. Grateful and impressed, I immediately bought and read Doxology. In 1984 I spent a three-month sabbatical with him in Durham. He invited me to give a public lecture on the (then Draft) Confession of Belhar of the (then) Dutch Reformed Mission Church of South Africa. Since then he has, through his writings, constantly accompanied, instructed, and inspired me and many of my colleagues, friends, and students. Since I have not had the opportunity to spend more time in his company, discussing theology, this is perhaps an opportunity to continue with the story of Belhar, indicating where he has inspired and assisted us since then, without his knowledge.

The name rises as a phantom from the heart of the Congo. The dawn of the nuclear age began there, though no one knew it at the time. King Leopold II of Belgium claimed the Congo as his colony during the surge of European colonization in the 1870s, promising to run the country for the benefit of the native population. Instead, he turned it into a giant slave camp as he raped the country of its riches. Leopold didn’t care much about mineral wealth, preferring the easy riches of rubber, but aft er he died in 1909, the Belgium mining company Union Minière discovered ample resources of copper, bismuth, cobalt, tin, and zinc in southern Congo. The history-changing find, though, was high-grade uranium ore at Shinkolobwe in 1915. The real interest at the time was not in uranium—it had no particular use—but in radium, the element the Curies discovered and made famous. It was being used as a miracle treatment for cancer and was the most valuable substance on earth—30,000 times the price of gold. Radium is produced from the decay of uranium aft er several intermediates (see Figure 8.3 in Chapter 8), so it is inevitable that radium and uranium will be located together. The true value of the uranium would not be apparent until the advent of the Manhattan Project to build the atomic bomb during World War II. Edgar Sangier, the director of Union Miniere, which owned the mine at Shinkolobwe, hated the Nazis and was afraid—correctly, as it turned out—that they would invade Belgium. In 1939, as Europe was sliding into war, Sangier learned that uranium could possibly be used to build a bomb. He secretly arranged to transfer 1,250 tons of the uranium ore out of the Congo to a warehouse in New York City. There it sat until 1942, when General Leslie Groves, the man whom President Roosevelt put in charge of the Manhattan Project, found out about it and arranged to purchase it.

In the mid-1980s, the impact of three decades of uranium processing near rural Fernald, Ohio, 18 miles northwest of Cincinnati, became the centre of national public controversy. When a series of incidents at the uranium foundry brought to light the years of contamination to the environment and surrounding farmland communities, local citizens’ groups united and demanded a role in determining the plans for cleaning up the site. One citizens’ group, Fernald Residents for Environmental Safety and Health (FRESH), formed in 1984 following reports that nearly 300 pounds of enriched uranium oxide had been released from a dust-collector system, and three off-property wells south of the site were contaminated with uranium. For 22 years, FRESH monitored activities at Fernald and participated in the decision-making process with management and regulators. The job of FRESH ended on 19 January this year when the U.S. Secretary of Energy Samuel Bodman and U.S. Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Stephen Johnson — flanked by local, state, and national elected officials, and citizen-led environmental watchdog groups including FRESH — officially declared the Fernald Site clean of all nuclear contamination and open to public access. It marked the end of a remarkable turnaround in public confidence and trust that had attracted critical reports from around the world: the Cincinnati Enquirer; U.S. national news programs 60 Minutes, 20/20, Nightline, and 48 Hours; worldwide media outlets from the British Broadcasting Company and Canadian Broadcasting Company; Japanese newspapers; and German reporters. When personnel from Fluor arrived in 1992, the management team thought it understood the issues and concerns of each stakeholder group, and was determined to implement the decommissioning scope of work aggressively, confident that stakeholders would agree with its plans. This approach resulted in strained relationships with opinion leaders during the early months of Fluor’s contract. To forge better relationships, the U.S. Department of Energy (DOE) who owns the site, and Fluor embarked on three new strategies based on engaging citizens and interested stakeholder groups in the decision-making process. The first strategy was opening communication channels with site leadership, technical staff, and regulators. This strategy combined a strong public-information program with two-way communications between management and the community, soliciting and encouraging stakeholder participation early in the decision-making process. Fluor’s public-participation strategy exceeded the “check-the-box” approach common within the nuclear-weapons complex, and set a national standard that stands alone today. The second stakeholder-engagement strategy sprang from mending fences with the regulators and the community. The approach for dispositioning low-level waste was a 25-year plan to ship it off the site. Working with stakeholders, DOE and Fluor were able to convince the community to accept a plan to safely store waste permanently on site, which would save 15 years of cleanup and millions of dollars in cost. The third strategy addressed the potentially long delays in finalizing remedial action plans due to formal public comment periods and State and Federal regulatory approvals. Working closely with the U.S. and Ohio Environmental Protection Agencies (EPA) and other stakeholders, DOE and Fluor were able to secure approvals of five Records of Decision on time – a first for the DOE complex. Developing open and honest relationships with union leaders, the workforce, regulators and community groups played a major role in DOE and Fluor cleaning up and closing the site. Using lessons learned at Fernald, DOE was able to resolve challenges at other sites, including worker transition, labour disputes, and damaged relationships with regulators and the community. It took significant time early in the project to convince the workforce that their future lay in cleanup, not in holding out hope for production to resume. It took more time to repair relationships with Ohio regulators and the local community. Developing these relationships over the years required constant, open communications between site decision makers and stakeholders to identify issues and to overcome potential barriers. Fluor’s open public-participation strategy resulted in stakeholder consensus of five remedial-action plans that directed Fernald cleanup. This strategy included establishing a public-participation program that emphasized a shared-decision making process and abandoned the government’s traditional, non-participatory “Decide, Announce, Defend” approach. Fernald’s program became a model within the DOE complex for effective public participation. Fluor led the formation of the first DOE site-specific advisory board dedicated to remediation and closure. The board was successful at building consensus on critical issues affecting long-term site remediation, such as cleanup levels, waste disposal and final land use. Fluor created innovative public outreach tools, such as “Cleanopoly,” based on the Monopoly game, to help illustrate complex concepts, including risk levels, remediation techniques, and associated costs. These innovative tools helped DOE and Fluor gain stakeholder consensus on all cleanup plans. To commemorate the outstanding commitment of Fernald stakeholders to this massive environmental-restoration project, Fluor donated $20,000 to build the Weapons to Wetlands Grove overlooking the former 136-acre production area. The grove contains 24 trees, each dedicated to “[a] leader(s) behind the Fernald cleanup.” Over the years, Fluor, through the Fluor Foundation, also invested in educational and humanitarian projects, contributing nearly $2 million to communities in southwestern Ohio, Kentucky and Indiana. Further, to help offset the economic impact of the site’s closing to the community, DOE and Fluor promoted economic development in the region by donating excess equipment and property to local schools and townships. This paper discusses the details of the public-involvement program — from inception through maturity — and presents some lessons learned that can be applied to other similar projects.