Political CSR Critiques & Refinements

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how dominant institutions and legacies of stakeholder dynamics in companies’ lexicons shaped their engagement.

Further, these “crossover” brands in a historical institutionalism perspective also elucidate the earlier point about organizational fields. While prior to Rana Plaza all of the brands which sourced from Bangladesh, and which subsequently joined the Accord or Alliance, could have been considered in the same organizational field as peer companies and competitors. An alternative field formulation could have been down political economy lines, differentiating those brands between U.S. and EU organizational fields. However, the crossover brands demonstrate that – in this case – fields may be constituted differently according to their dominant institutional contexts, rather than by sector or country of origin (Wooten & Hoffman, 2017). While a full exploration of what comprises that organizational field, specifically, is beyond the scope of this study, the empirical findings suggest that in addition to NBSs, legacies of labor relations and past engagements with other PG (e.g. FLA) were decisive in shaping companies’ PG choice in Bangladesh.

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issues like low wages and the lack of freedom of association – for the workers themselves. Such differences do not necessarily represent a ‘lack’ of government, but rather a difference in the expectations and imperatives of government. Therefore, Western brands and retailers engaged in the Alliance and Accord to safeguard workers in accordance with the dominant frames of their institutions and expectations of their stakeholders (e.g. living wages, human rights). Companies may engage in political CSR not because of the lack of government, but because of the inadequacy of government in addressing and satisfying their norms and expectations. The case of the Accord and Alliance revealed that government regulation pertaining to factory building safety in Bangladesh was actually quite good; indeed, many interviewees made the point that the Accord and Alliance weren’t instituting new regulations, rather, they were simply enforcing the existing ones. Here, it wasn’t necessarily that the Bangladesh government was unable or unwilling to regulate so much as the uptake and enforcement of the regulations was inadequate. Yet, this alone doesn’t necessary demonstrate government’s unwillingness or inability to act. Virtually all of the codes of conduct which companies sourcing from Bangladesh used to ensure compliance included provisions that local laws and building codes must be followed, yet none followed up to ensure factories’ compliance. While a nuanced point, perhaps, it highlights the need to better understand the role of government and other actors – as well as their interactions – in the provision of governance (Amengual, 2015; Amengual & Chirot, 2016; Börzel & Risse, 2010; Levy & Kaplan, 2007).

Second, the concepts of “global governance gaps” or even “globalization” do little to advance our understanding of how firms operate and govern their supply chains. Whilst recognizing that there are global organizations and norms (e.g. ILO, UN Guiding Principles), the term “global” remains an inherently ethereal concept which fails to appreciate the plethora of institutions, structures, norms, and even local and national regulations that companies must navigate when sourcing internationally. Companies do not source “globally”; clothing labels bear attributions such as

“Made in Bangladesh” or “Made in China”, not “Made Globally”. Recognizing the international environments from which companies source is a first step in appreciating and understanding the institutional fragmentation and plurality that companies face, and which shapes their agency, when sourcing internationally. While Paper 1 shows that – similar to CSR – preferred PG practices largely vary by national context, yet the crossover brands demonstrate that NBSs and political economy are not the only factors which shape companies’ choices. While country contexts may dominate, they are not the only institutional factors in play, demonstrating the need

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to better understand both the plurality and heterogeneity of institutions which shape actors’

sensemaking and subsequent action.

Third, the thesis provides a much-needed exploration of different modes and mechanisms of private governance, thereby extending our understanding of the different ways companies can operationalize their political CSR responsibilities. Not all collaboration can be painted with the same broad brush. In the Accord and Alliance case, the MSI seemingly was more effective at including and incorporating a broad array of stakeholder interests and concerns, building capacity within the industry, and took a more holistic view on how to meet particular obligations than its BLI counterpart. In contrast, the BLI was nimble and fast, reaching safety targets faster, though perhaps less effective at addressing the underlying issues which resulted in problems in the first place. Both modes of organizing private governance – MSIs and BLIs – come with their own merits and drawbacks, and understanding the differences between them is paramount for understanding, explaining and predicting future firm behavior and private governance outcomes.

By teasing apart differences between the two, we can better understand the utility and potential of the models, and how they might most effectively be applied to particular types of sustainability challenges.

Finally, the findings of the thesis reveal some of the fundamental challenges with the proclaimed shift from a political CSR 1.0 to 2.0 perspective. The alignment of the Accord with a 2.0 and the Alliance with a 1.0 conception demonstrate that the two notions can co-exist simultaneously.

Rather than reflect changes in globalization and the passage of time, it is more helpful to think about the two constructs as underpinned by different institutions and historical legacies. The differences between the political CSR 1.0 and 2.0 perspectives seemingly speak more to the institutions and contexts from which actors interpret and take action on their responsibilities than they do to the temporality of political CSR. PG fitting within both the 1.0 and 2.0 conceptions are being provided at the same time, but in different ways. Akin to different CSR orientations – where some CSR practices are highly instrumental while others may be integrative or strategic (Garriga & Melé, 2004) – political CSR might more usefully be considered in a similar manner.

The comparative case used in this study demonstrated how the Alliance stood as an example of political CSR 1.0 and the Accord as 2.0 (see Table 3 in the Case Overview portion of the Methodology section for an overview). Combined with the findings from the thesis’ papers, it suggests that an evolution of the constructs isn’t entirely dependent upon globalization and

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temporality – though certainly these play a part – but rather a represent the different orientations of political CSR itself. The practice of PG - as an example of an activity which companies use to fulfill their political responsibilities – may be reflective of an instrumental rationale (e.g. reducing risk in a brand’s supply chain), integrative orientation (e.g. brands comply with stakeholder demands to do more to ensure factory safety), or an ethical perspective (e.g. brands feel a duty or obligation to help raise standards). When viewed in this way, this study suggests that rather than viewing “political CSR” as a “type” of activity in which companies engage, that it can be far more useful to view what companies do as an indication of how they understand their political roles and why they operationalize them in particular ways.