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Introduction

Over the past three decades the Australian mining sector has undergone radical transformation. The earlier practices of companies building towns in remote regions to house a permanent workforce and their families are largely passé. Today, the increasingly preferred approach is to fly a mobile workforce on a rotational basis from worker homes in large cities and regional towns to purpose built, all contained, but often very temporary, mining sites. This employment model is called fly-in/fly-out (FIFO) and it is the dominant labour solution underpinning Australia’s current mining boom.

While FIFO is not new, media interest and community concern is increasing. In response to these concerns the Australian Parliament established a travelling inquiry examining FIFO in detail. The inquiry’s final report (House of Representatives Committees 2013) reveals views ranging from overwhelmingly supportive to unrelentingly hostile. FIFO is nothing if not polarising. Described by some as the cause of much personal, family and community grief (Carrington et al. 2011), FIFO is also presented as an essential component of the Australian mining boom—a boom described in some quarters as the primary reason why Australia has maintained existing prosperity despite tough global economic times (Richardson and Denniss 2011). The extrapolation of these benefits beyond the bottom line of mining companies and high employee salaries to the broader community can be heard in support of the industry. For many though, the question is: at what cost FIFO? Do the material riches of FIFO mining look healthy only when we fail to properly account for the long-term costs borne by individuals, families and communities? Is FIFO, as some critics argue, weakening society’s cohesion and collective spirit via the promotion of self-interest and materialist individualism? To provide possible answers, this paper presents research that offers the views of insiders by exploring FIFO workers’ attitudes particularly towards money and materialism.

Prior to commencing it is important to acknowledge that, while FIFO is highly topical today, research contributions from several disciplines provided an important foundation for this research. Some of the most noteworthy include those examining FIFO health and well-being (see among others Venables et al. 2002; Solheim 1988; Parkes 1998; Clifford 2009; Jenkins 1997) and community impacts (see Haslam and McKenzie 2011; Storey 2001, 2010; Shrimpton and Storey 2001; Tonts 2010; Hogan and Berry 2000; Pini et al. 2012).

The FIFO Effect

For some observers, including those who presented to the Australian Parliament’s inquiry, FIFO is seen as a cause of significant social issues, including family breakdown, increasing mental health problems, excessive drinking and drug taking, rising sexually transmitted disease rates and a decline in civic participation (House of Representatives Committees 2012). Perhaps less socially destructive (but no less a source of grievance) are broadly felt lifestyle impacts including poor restaurant service, high bar prices, staff attraction and retention problems and, in parts of the state, runaway property prices and rents. Other voices, including industry leaders, say there is no alternative and, like it or not, FIFO mining is here to stay (CMEWA 2012). The social impact, says WA’s Premier Colin Barnett, echoing an often repeated theme about ‘free choice’, is exaggerated: “most of these guys would rather be working on big projects up here than working in a factory in Melbourne” (cited in Fletcher 2012). Those who advocate the model offer the claim that FIFO is preferred over relocation to remote areas. Here ‘choice’ is the key. If FIFO isn’t suitable for the employee then, according to this reasoning, there are always other options: “There is very low unemployment … If a fly in/fly out lifestyle doesn’t suit a family you will find they will simply leave that job and do another one” (cited in Fletcher 2012). Those critical of the industry are often reminded that FIFO participation is voluntary, and doing it or not doing it is up to each individual to decide.

Strong positions on FIFO as an industry extend to views about the FIFO employee. The common caricature presents the figure of a white, overweight and unskilled male truck driver earning A$140,000 per annum, with minimal formal education. This character likes to drink, and exhibits ‘bogan’Footnote 1 cultural and consumer tastes, including a penchant for hotted-up V8 utility vehicles and the biggest flat screen TVs (Pini et al. 2012). For many outsiders the closest contact with FIFO takes place while standing among the hundreds of fluoro-wearingFootnote 2 employees in snaking queues at Perth airport. The reality of who the FIFO employee is, perhaps unsurprisingly, is a little more complex and continues to evolve. Today, it appears that FIFO is increasingly representing the pluralism of Australian society; employees come from diverse ethnic backgrounds, women are joining in increasing numbers and, the aforementioned archetype notwithstanding, the vast majority of FIFO vacancies advertised demand a professional or trade qualification.Footnote 3 The mine site truck driver described above, while he still exists, is perhaps a declining figure on the FIFO mining landscape.

Of all the FIFO stereotypes it is likely that those concerning employees, money and materialism show the closest crossover between outsider perceptions and insider descriptions. There is no doubt that money is a key driver attracting people to the industry. As one interviewee in the research reported here commented: “no one is going to work up here unless they were well paid”. But what lies beyond this headline statement? In this chapter I explore this question from the perspective of 14 FIFO employees interviewed in 2012. The explicit purpose of these semi-structured interviews—half of which were conducted at interviewees’ homes in Perth, with the remainder recorded in Pilbara work settings—was to better understand the world of FIFO employment from an insider’s perspective. These men and women represent a diverse cross-section of roles, and length of time in the industry (2 weeks to 6 years, with an average of less than 2 years in FIFO). Of all the interviews conducted perhaps the most candid was that conducted with the most senior employee who has participated to date. Gary,Footnote 4 a mine superintendent with many years of experience with different companies, pulled no punches in talking about the good and bad of FIFO. In the next section, drawing on my field notes, I use my onsite conversations with Gary to introduce the FIFO life from his perspective.

An Introduction to Life Inside a Junior Iron Ore Company

We sit on the verandah of a dongaFootnote 5 in J block facing east. The outlook is typical Pilbara spinifex, the only interruption to the seemingly limitless horizon is a walking track, newly carved by a bulldozer from the mine. It is for me the conclusion of an exceptional day—my first experience of a FIFO work setting. For my host, who had just poured both of us a second Jim Beam, it has been much like all the rest of his consecutive 6 a.m.–6 p.m. working days. There are eight more cans of diet Cokes to follow the two just emptied. I can see that Gary has settled into a regular routine. “I know I drink too much, in fact I am in pain right now, but I drink more when I am back in Perth” he revealed to me earlier that morning in his office. This mid-40s man doesn’t pretend to hide his love of the drinking culture many believe is integral with mining life. “I mix it with diet Coke to make it healthier”, he says with a laugh. I ask him about the zero blood alcohol requirement when he fronts up each morning for mandatory pre-start breath testing. “Nine before nine”Footnote 6 he offers obliquely. It takes me a moment to realise what this means.

In the quietness of this dusk setting we continue to talk through the themes Gary has offered during several interviews I conducted with him while he worked. He talks about the happiness the work brings him, his love for the landscape, the importance of getting the right guys on board to grow the crew, his failed first marriage, and his far more successful second one. “You have to put the work in. Every day I speak with my wife while I’m here. I learned this lesson the hard way. If you don’t work your relationship you will lose it.” His conversation is genuinely open and frank. He is most passionate when talking about what the work means to him and why he feels so hostile towards those who believe the mineral resources of this remote north western region is for all Australians to share. “These resources are not everyone’s. We are the ones up here doing this shit. I’d like to see them up here during summer working through 50 degree days.”

This is not an uncommon view; it is expressed by many of those I interviewed. Perhaps as strongly felt is nervousness about the ‘end of the boom’ and decline in demand for a mineral that has propelled this industry into the centre of Australian social, economic and political narratives in recent years. Money is a key theme at the start of many conversations; how much money can be made, the level of debt some people have, and the possibility of losing it all if the boom ends. This possibility is attributable, at least according to my most politically forthright informant Gary, to loose ‘end of the boom’ talk and bad policy decisions made by ‘outsiders’ such as the Federal Resources Minister and his Labor government. On this subject the disdain was unmistakable.

Moving from a subject that gets him agitated to one that gives far greater pleasure Gary raises a finger: “Hear that?” he asks. At first I hear nothing, but slowly the rumble in the distance becomes clear. “You know what that is? Money rolling down the highway. Money, money, money and lots of it.”

The money in question is a four trailer articulated truck filled with nearly 500 tons of iron ore. That one truck can carry roughly $50,000 of mineral iron ore at today’s prices. While the popular image of a Pilbara mining operation is of conveyors filling trains with hundreds of carriages, relatively small iron ore producers like the one I am visiting do not have train lines and must make do with carting iron ore in trucks to train access points. Only the biggest companies have rail, and use of this strategically central infrastructure is a tightly controlled asset. In the Pilbara scale of things, this site with 200 workers and six million tons of iron ore shipped annually to China is a baby. Numerous Pilbara camps owned by the ‘major’ miners like BHP, Rio Tinto and Fortescue Metals contain thousands of employees. While comparatively small, the mine I am visiting has grown from nothing to its current size in only 2 years. For those who have been here since that first day, having transformed an ancient river bed into a highly productive and growing mining operation is a source of great pride.

FIFO Concerns: A Chance to Get Ahead: Toys, Houses and Control

I feel good about having the money. When people hear you are FIFO they assume you are loaded (Jesse).

‘Getting ahead’ is not an uncommon phrase in the vocabulary of those interviewed for this research. There is strong motivation to make good while opportunities exist. While the importance of the work experience and career progress are also occasionally described, the most common get ahead dimension features the importance of making a large financial gain in a relatively short time period.

For many, FIFO employment generates far higher wages than those possible for similar work in a non-FIFO environment. The overt materialist foundations of the industry and the relatively high remuneration helps explain how FIFO employment is seen more broadly. For some FIFO workers a potent driving force appears to be the prospect of exceeding expectations of oneself and of others, and to achieve material success. As one participant explained, “Success to me is to have a house, to have my toys, and to have a family” (Stephen).

While FIFO is an increasingly researched topic, one area that is incompletely understood is the full spectrum of factors, motivations and habits influencing employee behaviours and decisions. Is high financial expenditure—whether in consumption or asset accumulation streams—simply a response to the impairing nature of the work, or does it indicate something deeper? Perhaps, at least in part, it reveals a little about the cultural context in which mining employment is situated specifically, and the movement towards materialist orientations in contemporary Australia more generally (Hamilton and Denniss 2005).

That FIFO employees generally receive higher salaries than they would in equivalent non-FIFO roles is unremarkable. Perhaps a little more interesting is to consider several other factors, which arguably contribute to money and spending attitudes. The first of these is that FIFO employees generally have limited options for spending while at work, with day-to-day material needs mostly met by the employer. The second factor is that, for many, recreation breaks are often short compared to days spent at work. A final element to consider is the highly regulated nature of mine sites and of FIFO work life generally, which for several participants leads to ‘letting off steam’ behaviours. The stereotype that FIFO workers can be carefree spenders is, at least in part, supported by the interview data. For example, Chris reflected that “It is no problem to spend $1,000–$3,000 when back on your break”.

How money is spent differs from case to case, and it is unsurprising that some FIFO employees hold combinations of lifestyle and asset building goals. Lifestyle goals include expensive holidays, shopping for clothes and gadgets, eating out and generally ‘having fun’ (including sometimes excessive drinking and drug taking). Being able to comfortably afford these purchases, without the need to weigh up the budgetary implications, is a point of pleasure for several participants interviewed:

When you do go home you have got more options. I don’t ever have to say ‘I don’t have enough money’. If I want to go on a holiday I go on a holiday, I don’t have to save up for it … I never have to think about the money. Also I can be generous with the money. It gives you a lot more options (Jesse).

‘Toys’ are a separate, and for some, more expensive lifestyle purchase category. One male participant, interviewed at his newly purchased home in suburban Perth, described how he had taken to spending thousands of dollars buying action figures, model cars and boats:

You can probably tell my interest in toys from the thousands of dollars of Transformers that you can see up there. Before I bought this house there was a lot of money sitting there for the deposit. I was rather unhappy at the time, so I was just buying things to make myself happy. I took up golf, and bought toys and model sailing boats. You’ve got a week off and there is no point sitting around with a hangover every morning. I might as well spend it on something that I want (Stephen).

More typically, toys come full size in the form of boats, jet skis, cars and motorbikes. Toy talk is particularly common among male FIFO workers. Demonstrating the allure of ‘retail therapy’ (Kasser 2002) perhaps after years of financial struggle, are stories of buying consumer items that were never planned. An example of this comes from Lenny who has only recently commenced FIFO having moved from rural Queensland with his partner of 10 years, Emma. Lenny and Emma made the decision to move to Western Australia to attempt to clear $40,000 of accumulated debt. I spoke with Emma prior to formally interviewing Lenny.

We both planned to do FIFO, but I found it impossible to get a job. I have a lot of admin experience but I didn’t even get replies to my applications. It was disheartening. Lenny got offered a cooking role. He works away for 4 weeks and is back for one. He is now on his third swing. It’s really hard as I get quite lonely in Perth.

I asked Emma whether they were meeting the financial goals they had set.

Well he has just told me he is about to buy an $8,000 camera. I mean he already has about $10,000 worth of camera gear.

Was this part of the plan?

No not at all. He just feels that he deserves it. He feels that he has worked hard and this is his treat.

This type of goal drift and the need to self-reward is frequently mentioned during interviews.

Aside from buying consumer items, travel experiences are important to numerous FIFO workers. Karen, a Pilbara based environmentalist, is a case in point, explaining that: “I travel overseas a lot. I only get 6 days off but I will sometimes fly to the US for those 6 days. I go to rodeos; I am trying to meet a cowboy.”

Karen bought a V8 utility on credit, but has no other assets. She concedes that her family (who also do FIFO) and friends are worried that she is wasting her money, and she recognises that the tension between having fun and doing something for the long-term is hard to manage: “I would like to buy a farm, but I really struggle to save any money”.

Heavy partying is also a regular FIFO activity that is data supported. While there is much talk of an illicit drug culture in FIFO it was not explicitly referred to during interviews. In contrast, numerous participants described heavy alcohol use without prompting. Stephen’s description is representative:

I used to spend $400 on grog every day on my break when I was in Kalgoorlie. There was nothing to do there except drink. I used to binge the entire break. I came away after two years having pissed away almost everything I earned

Houses

Distinct from the consumption and lifestyle-oriented stream, home and property ownership is perhaps the most common FIFO. When asked why they do FIFO, saving for a house or servicing an existing mortgage is a frequent response. It is not uncommon for FIFO workers to service multiple mortgages. In other cases FIFO employment is seen as an important impetus to climb up the housing market ladder.

We’ve got a town house in Highgate (Perth) and an investment property. Yes I’m nervous about talk of the end of the boom. I have two mortgages totaling $1,000,000. People think because you do FIFO you are loaded, but I’ve only started saving coin in the past few years (Martin).

Chris is a trade assistant who has been in FIFO for 18 months and currently works a 28-day shift. Chris describes how the work can be lonely and difficult with sometimes entire days spent under the Pilbara sun. During our conversation Chris describes several features of the job that reduces his satisfaction of the experience: “They talk about the importance of staying hydrated but they only give us one 5 l water eskyFootnote 7 to last the whole day. It is never enough.” Chris acknowledges that such a long shift has become unsustainable. He is angry that the company he is contracted to has delayed providing permanent contracts. His goal is to move to a 19-on-9-off rotation but can only do this if made permanent: “I know that it will be less money, but the 4 weeks roster is just too long.” Chris is now almost 30 years old. Prior to FIFO he was a self-employed plasterer in rural Victoria and was struggling financially. He recognises that saving almost $8,000 per month is remarkable by almost any standard. He has “a goal to save a $100,000 home deposit by this Christmas and then quit.” His ‘problem’ however is: “I don’t know whether I will be able to get out of this work when I hit that goal.”

Chris’s comment is typical of the sentiment expressed by those employees who have chosen FIFO to get ahead on their first house purchase. With clear financial goals Chris says his savings will be used to help buy a house, either near his family farm in Victoria, or in central Queensland where a brother lives. Responding to the question of how long he will continue doing FIFO Chris expresses uncertainty: “I don’t know how long I can keep doing this long rotation. If they gave me the shorter contract shift I would stay beyond Christmas.”

Perhaps in this comment we see the first sign of the elasticity of goals that FIFO workers in other interviews also reveal. Perhaps for Chris this is recognition that accruing a deposit for a home is a first step to long-term financial commitment. The subsequent mortgage payments will mean that, at least for some FIFO workers, leaving the industry is no longer a realistic option.

Another late 20s couple, Peter and Jocelyn, also describe very specific financial goals. The discipline they bring to their FIFO careers and how they save seems to be a source of pride: “We basically put our entire wage into our mortgage.” Despite this apparent goal achievement this couple also reveals that even among those most fiscally disciplined FIFO employees there is evidence of goal creep. When asked whether their financial objective had remained fixed since starting FIFO, they responded with a laugh:

Well actually we have just bought a house. We didn’t plan to, we only planned to pay off our current town house, but we felt that we wanted something bigger, something with a yard, somewhere to put a dining table.

The strong focus on housing and investment accumulation among FIFO employees is perhaps unsurprising. The mortgage as a core ingredient of the home and investment property ownership strategy, long described as the ‘great Australian dream’, has been a culturally dominant aspiration for many decades (Weidmann and Kelly 2011). Many of the comments made in these interviews resonate with broader cultural narratives about what we should aspire to be, and how we would mark achievement.

A Good Time, Not a Long Time: Golden Handcuffs

Martin (2002) drawing on Weber’s ‘calculating attitude’ recognises a key narrative in contemporary capitalism of the importance of harnessing ‘self-entrepreuneurship’ as a technique to leverage future potential and create personal certainty. In the FIFO case this could be seen to translate into the attraction of high intensity/high reward employment to propel the employee beyond her or his existing financial situation into a desired state. This simple description of the pathway from current position to imagined future appears to ignore the fluidity and complexity of that journey that writers such as Schor (1998), Lane (2000) and Kasser (2002) explore. Numerous FIFO employees describe how goals have changed—frequently becoming larger and more aspirational—after their journey commences. It appears that fixing financial and material goals is often far more difficult than first supposed. Within a mining context this goal nebulousness has been described as the ‘golden handcuffs’ (Shrimpton and Storey 2001: 12): patterns of living and spending which, in part at least, are said to compensate for work that is frequently isolating and difficult. As shown earlier many FIFO employees describe the freedom to spend without restraint as intensely pleasurable, and acknowledge that the amounts spent would be impossible without the accompanying salary. A further recognition is that large mortgages could not be paid without mining income. For these reasons a number of FIFO employees say they often feel trapped in employment that does not bring significant intrinsic rewards. These FIFO accounts show how employees struggle with marginal intrinsic work rewards yet feel bound to stay due to existing consumption habits, debt commitments or the strength of financial goals.

As the experience of FIFO employee Chris demonstrates, one’s free choice to exit the industry, a notion enthusiastically declared by FIFO proponents, can be more problematic in practice. In his example the choice is to endure a 4-on-1-off rotation that is adversely impacting personal and family well-being, or accept the lower salary of a shorter stint. Selecting the latter will invariably require staying in the industry much longer than originally planned. As a shorter rotation, from Chris’s own admission, is more sustainable, this suggests that this employee would be prepared to continue FIFO for the additional years needed to reduce mortgage debt. On the surface the trap in this choice is that goals can shift along the way. At what point is a (relatively) financially modest house in rural Victoria sufficient when an influential narrative emanating from the industry and its workers is the importance of exceeding previously held goals and aspirations?

Illustrative of the risks of the golden handcuff in this high-paying industry is Andrew’s experience. Two years ago Andrew (26) made a decision to leave mining, something he had been doing since he was 17, to start university:

My dream since I was a teenager was to get a degree, but when facing the option [to leave a mining job] I felt very anxious about how I would survive on Austudy.Footnote 8 I thought I would need to get a job for a couple of days per week in Perth, but where was I going to earn the money I was used to? I wasn’t prepared to work in a café or bar and only earn $20 per hour. It wouldn’t be enough.

These concerns notwithstanding Andrew left the technical assistant position he had held for several years with a large mining company and studied for an 18-month period, relying on Austudy and a small cache of savings. Having decided not to work part-time while at university, Andrew accrued an A$11,000 debt. At this point he made a decision to return to FIFO work. When discussing his reasons for returning to full-time FIFO employment—a work pattern he says he has never particularly enjoyed—Andrew described the stress of growing debt and very strong feelings of not being in financial control of his circumstances as key drivers in his decision. Andrew’s plans to continue studies part-time are currently on hold.

Jesse describes a similar dilemma: “I want to be out of this (FIFO mining) by the time I am 30. I want to be in a geology role in the city not in a mine site.” Jesse says that to achieve this aim he will have to complete a Master’s degree in business. His first attempt at the degree while working is proving difficult:

I started a Master’s this year, but I have pulled out. If I was able to put in a half an hour every night I would have been able to do it, but that study is mentally exhausting and after working for 12 hours up here you have no energy left.

Exhaustion at night plus an unpreparedness to engage with study while on his recreation break meant Jesse’s attempt at completing a postgraduate qualification has also faltered.

I had assignments due every second Sunday. I would get back and wouldn’t want to do them on my first day back, Saturday is spent all day with my mates and partying, and then I would wake up lunchtime Sunday feeling absolutely rotten and I have an assignment due in 12 hours. It is very stressful and draining with my current lifestyle. Maybe if I slow down a bit more, and really focus I might be able to do a bit better.

Empowerment or Entrapment?

While there is much negativity about FIFO, for some it offers significant freedom and flexibility compared to more traditional work models. One FIFO manager I spoke with off the record (his company would not allow employees to be interviewed) described how his family life functions much more cohesively when he is in a FIFO role compared to when he has been employed as a supervisor in Perth factories. Other participants say that the extra income and long recreational breaks comprehensively meet their employment needs. For other employees, though, the highly regulated work pattern of FIFO brings restrictions that can lead some to feel they are not in full control of their work nor personal lives. The view that FIFO employees are serving prison time is reflected in a number of interviews. Stephen for example commented that “Basically the best way to describe it is it like being in prison. They tell you when you can eat, when you can drink, what you can do.”

Several employees seem to find it difficult to quarantine the worst effects of FIFO from home lives. Where employees have a partner/spouse and sometimes children, the frustration of being absent from significant family events is common. In some cases, FIFO employees say they often feel out of tune with family and friends.

It seems hard, you sort of see where (the girlfriend) is coming from too, but on the same hand she’s got to think ‘maybe I should give him time to relax, chill on the couch and watch movies, or whatever’ …You have got seven days, but it just feels like rush rush rush rush rush, let’s do this, let’s do that. And by the time you have got to your fifth day home you’re thinking ‘it’s over, I’ve been flat out seeing everyone, and being out every day for the last five days, and haven’t done anything that I want to do’ (Chris).

The demands of home appear exacerbated by both the amount of time spent away and the complications of distance. Participants interviewed for this research frequently mentioned the challenge to de-stress, re-energise and reconnect with their home environment on their own terms. For many though, the reality experienced is arriving home to family and friends with expectations and plans frequently out of balance with their own. On multiple occasions FIFO employees said they feel resentment as the demands of others are grudgingly acceded to or, in other cases, where frequent conflict and disagreement pressure relationships. Despite the high material rewards on offer the FIFO employee is likely to experience a degree of alienation from her/his ‘home’ life:

You can spend your whole time when you are home fighting, and you think ‘why am I spending my time fighting when I could be out having fun?’… What I’ve noticed is that you will come home and your girlfriend will want to spend the whole time with you, but I want to go out with my male friends and be a boy for a while. I don’t want to be full-time in a relationship when at home (Stephen).

Conclusion

The interviews with 14 FIFO workers drawn on here reveal an experience of work that contains significant compromises. The long hours and the consecutive days away from home become, for many, emotionally and physically draining. Connections with home lives are frequently described as bearing the scars of the FIFO model’s spatial and temporal dislocation. Working in remote geographical locations, often with constrained outside communications, means that for some employees the risk of detachment from the priorities of their non-work lives grows. Arguably this work model exacerbates the potential for miscalibration between the FIFO employee’s needs and expectations and that of others. This miscalibration, as described previously, can result in significant emotional and relationship costs—a theme covered extensively in submissions to the Australian Parliament’s FIFO inquiry (House of Representatives Committees 2012).

This research also shows that short-term time horizons can become complicated once the journey commences. Numerous examples of shifting goals, increasing spending habits and growing debt commitments reveal that the choice to come and go from the industry as one pleases is more problematic in reality. The high material rewards of FIFO that seem so attractive to many outsiders and new recruits can become a ‘golden bind’ that has both material and psychological potency. In this vein an argument that the FIFO experience can leave its mark on employee thinking appears valid. This research has revealed numerous employees struggling to imagine a life without a FIFO salary. The question this research poses is whether FIFO employees can successfully straddle the path between acceptable short-term personal costs incurred in the pursuit of long-term financial goals? Whether the individuals at the centre of FIFO, or the communities affected by FIFO mining, can manage these costs over the long-term, and whether FIFO is a curse or cure, remains to be seen.