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<Pine.SOL.4.10.9908160913100.13131-100000@sunrise.ccs.yorku.ca>
Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 09:19:18 -0400
Sender: Forum on Labor in the Global Economy <LABOR-L@YorkU.CA>
From: Sam Lanfranco <lanfran@YorkU.CA>
Subject: The plight of the Indian H-1B workers in the United States. (fwd)
Comments: cc: lanfran@web.net
To: LABOR-L@YorkU.CA
http://www.littleindia.com/india/aug99/Access%20Denied.htm
The plight of the Indian H-1B workers in the United States.
There are, as always, at least two stories.
In a recent issue of The Economist (June 26, 1999), we are offered a
special feature on new cyber-technology. To make it easy for us to
imagine the change that Internet has wrought, The Economist takes us
to Hollywood: Once, a Hollywood studio employed everyone from
Humphrey Bogart to the lighting technicians. Today, it is more like a
finance house cum- marketing-department.
The article paints a rosy
picture of flexibility and outsourcing, ad hoc partnerships and
alliances with others that are self-employed. Internet makes all this
easier.
This is the fantasy of the new wired order. In that world, fluid and mobile contracting will deliver goods, services and even government, to a well-connected world. The difficult questions about the consequences of this change, particularly for the weak and the most vulnerable parties in this process, do not feature very large in this plot.
A part of the reason for this euphoria mixed with callousness has to
do with cybertechnology itself. Most people have bought into the
ideology of a bold new frontier where awkward questions about labor
for example do not loom large. But, what would it mean to pay
attention to another story, one where one heeds the words of Andrew
Ross who reminds us that masses of people work in cyberspace or
work to make cyberspace possible.
The second story also requires imagination. But, here the emphasis is on imagining what has been left out of the earlier telling. And it has been available right here, in the pages of Little India (in particular, the Sept ember and October 1998 issues). What we have in these pages, particularly in stories by Amarnath Vedachalam and Monica Mehta, is a focus on the experiences of Indian H-1B workers in the United States. The stories in Littl e India hold my attention more than the one hawked by The Economist because the only foreign-sounding names in the latter’s 40-page report are the names of computer languages. Where is the Indian cybertechie in the imagin ation of the West?
This interest in not hollow chauvinism on my part. India is the
overwhelmingly largest supplier of IT professionals to the United
States. Last year, the annual cap on H-1B visas was raised from
65,000 to 115,000 =97 and Ind ian software professionals filled 46
percent of that new total. China, next on the ladder, only filled 10
percent. The other countries among the top ten spots were Canada with
4 percent; Philippines with 3 percent; U.K., Taiwan, Pakistan, Korea,
Russia and Japan with 2 percent each. According to a news item in
June, the Texas Sen. Phil Gramm, responding to a clamor by leading
U.S. information technology companies for increased access to skilled
foreign workers,
has pressed for raising the H-1B visa cap to
200,000 next year.
But, where are the accounts of such servicing
in the story told
by The Economist? Above all, where in that narrative is Mr. Oracle
Rao, that fine creature of the transnational contract, who was given
that name by Amarna th Vedachalam in the pages of Little India?
According to Vedachalam, the Oracle Raos of this world can be
recognized by one trait: they have been hired on contract and are
moved at the whimsy of the client’s capital. As a result, our
writer informs us, the Indian professionals can be roused from sleep
and asked the area code of almost any place in the United
States. They’ll know the answer because chances are they have
lived there.
However, more than the itinerancy, it is the unc
ertainties of the period of benching
and its attendant
humiliations that most burden the H-1B workers’ minds. As
Vedachalam himself put it: The worst part is that many of these
companies are owned by ignoramuses who kn ow only the spelling of
software. For them Oracle, Sybase, SQL, HTML, C, C++ all mean the same
=97 Dollar. Not only that, Rama, Siva, Madhav, Chetty or Rao, Goel or
Vemuri all mean the same =97 Dollar. There is no personal to uch =97
only money, money sweeter than honey!
The boom in Indian writing in English (which arguably has paralleled
the rise of the Indian computer industry) also has very little to say
about the Oracle Raos of our world. In a short-story by Vikram Chandra
entitled A rtha,
however, we find not one but two rarities of
Indian fiction: gay lovers and computer programmers. In fact, to make
matters more complex, the gay lovers are Hindu and Muslim, and
Sandhya, the main programmer in the story, is female.
This is how the story’s narrator explains to his male lover his difference from Sandhya: I put my hand on the back of his hip, with a finger looped through a belt hoop, and told him again that I coded high and she coded l ow, that when I cranked out my bread-and-butter xBase database rubbish I was shielded from the machine by layers and layers of metaphor, while she went down, down toward the hardware in hundreds of lines of C++ that made my head hurt just to look at them, and then there were the nuggets of assembly language strewn through the app, for speed when it was really important, she said, and in these critical sections it was all gone from me, awa y from any language I could feel, into some cool place of razor-sharp instructions, RMOV BYTE PTR [BX], 16.S But she skated in easy, like she had been born speaking a tongue one step away from binary.
I read the above passage, out aloud, to R. Mutthuswami when we left
his office on Wall Street for a bar nearby. Mutthuwswami is a systems
analyst at a top financial firm and the glass wall of his office
overlooks the towe rs of the World Trade Center and the water
stretching beyond it. There are zero women at that level,
was
his first response. He explained that while there are several women,
including some Indians, in design as well as management, he
hadn’t met any that worked with those computer languages which
shield the way the machine actually works.
There is also a
difference, I suggested, between the narrator’s expertise and
that of Sandhya. How does that translate into the way the Indian
programmers see themselves in the diaspora?
There is a clear dichotomy,
Mutthuswami said, between two types
of Indians. On the one hand, there are the highly educated Indians
who have given up an academic career to start their own
companies
and, on the other ha nd, there are the graduates mostly
of regional colleges and less prestigious programs who perform
low-level coding jobs in the U.S., Europe, or Australia.
Those
who fall in the former category, according to Mutthuswami, today serve
as the CEO’s of 25 percent of the companies in Silicon
Valley. The members of the second set are those who form a larger
portion
of Indian cyberworkers in this country. They perform
manual work,
Mutthuswa mi said with a shrug, and added, It
is a class system, like any other class system.
By now we were sitting in a bar where I mentally made the quasi
ethnographic observation that male Wall Street execs, enjoying their
after work drinks, seem to loosen the knots of their ties by half to
one inch. I asked M utthuswami if Oracle Rao would have any say in the
matter of where he was assigned a place in this hierarchy. No,
he replied quickly. Speaking broadly of the class of Indian
cybertechies on H-1B visa, Mutthuswami said, They don’t get
paid very well, they don’t have any power or clout. They have
skills, but they are mostly for maintenance jobs. I see nothing
intellectual coming out of their work here.
As the interview came to a close, Mutthuswami mentioned to me Edward
Yourdon’s Decline and Fall of the American Programmer. In this
book, which came out in 1992, Yourdon, a software-marketing guru, had
predicted a take-ov er of the U.S. software industry by the likes of
Oracle Rao. In the opening pages of his book, Yourdon complained that
hardly anybody seems to be paying attention to the fact that a
programmer in India earns five times l ess than a programmer in
Indianapolis.
The writer also felt that India and other former
British colonies posed a serious threat to the United States because
these countries had inherited an excellent English based educa
tional infrastructure.
Yourdon was also distraught that more than
50 percent of the U.S. computer science Ph.D. students were foreign
nationals.
Matters were, of course, more complicated. As Yourdon himself
admitted, More important than the claim that India-based software
is 30 percent cheaper than American software is the likelihood that it
has 10 times fewer bu gs and can be maintained 10 times more
easily.
Nevertheless, he approvingly quoted a 1987 San Jose
newsletter called Software Success
which used an Indian
software program to launch a warning to U.S. companies: If the
software industry doesn’t wake up to the possibility of software
development moving offshore, we may be just another U.S. industry
which is asleep at the wheel.
Mutthuswami had invoked Yourdon only to tell me that Yourdon’s
prediction had failed. What has really happened in the
nineties,
Mutthuswami said, is that while Indians have done
reasonably well, any advances in software still come from American
companies.
Nevertheless, what is incontestable is that around
50,000 H-1B petitions are being accepted each year for Indian
cybertechies. This remains the most dramatic and consequential detail
in the world of software technology in India.
I drove to New Jersey and met Satyajit Roy outside his office. Roy is 39 year-old software engineer and works for a large telecom company. He came to the United States from India two and a half years ago, and has been wor king on his fourth H-1B. This is the first job he has held since his arrival here that he finds satisfactory.
Minutes before I met Roy in his office, India had lost to Australia in
the World Cup cricket match being played in England. We spoke about
the match when we met. Roy had seen parts of it on television in the
rooms of one of his cohorts in the office. (Many of his co-workers
were H-1B techies from India and had, it seemed, emerged from their
offices en masse to smoke after the match had ended.) The H-1B visa
is a big boon to Indians, as I see it,
Roy said to me as he
smoked. From the mid-80s,
he said, the efflux really
started, and now we are a class by ourselves.
Roy is a little different from most Indian cybertechies who come a
little earlier in their career. He had been a manager with several
years’ experience with two Tata companies in India; what made
the move more difficult f or him was that he came with his wife, and a
son who is now 9 years old. What motivated him to come here? He said,
I wanted my family to get more exposure to the world. I had been in
England when I was younger. I wanted to give my family that same
experience.
The family did not get what Roy had been hoping for. A small body
shop
had given him the chance to come here, but it couldn’t
very quickly find a place for him. In the very beginning,
Roy
said, I didn’t have a fuckin g car, I didn’t have a
fucking salary.
Recently, in his new job, Roy’s boss has
promised to create a permanent position for him. Roy is looking two or
three years ahead when he hopes he will have a green card.
Girish Bhatt, an executive at CyberTech, told me during a phone
interview that the reason Indian cyberworkers get H-1B visas is that
it is almost impossible to hire someone who is a U.S. citizen at
the rate that these gu ys are willing to pay.
Bhatt cited the
example of Ameritech, the largest company in Illinois, that his own
firm was servicing.
Roy didn’t disagree with this analysis, but he felt that there
was a basic ceiling below which the salary did not fall. No one
comes here below 40K,
he said. Of course,
he added, what
job you’ll get depends on your luck, it’s a lottery
scene.
While Roy hopes for the lottery to work for him, his family waits with
him. Talking of his wife, Debjani, who had been working as a teacher
in India teaching English, Roy said that his wife, like all spouses,
is only gran ted an H-4 visa. She can stay here, but not work,
he said. Right now, he said, his wife is planning on doing a
distance-learning course.
The case of Debjani Roy is likely to be a common experience among most
spouses of the IT professionals who come here on H-1B visas. The H-1B
worker belongs overwhelmingly to the male species and, especially when
their dur ation of work is longer than a few months, their spouses and
children accompany them. When a worker is benched
or a contract
is cancelled, the family fully shares the brunt of the shock.
The phenomenon of H-1B work is wired with politics, and gender is an
important, even if ignored, component of this circuitry. Apart from
the contexts that I have outlined above, this fact was also brought
home to me by a letter that I once read in Little India. The
letter-writer made a link between the H-1B visa-holder and his
marriage: Why USA through H-1? The answer is clear: there is no
investment even on air tickets and then there is the premium in the
marriage market in India. In one Indian state a U.S. based boy [sic]
commands a dowry of $120,000 apart from marriage expenses. In the
marriage market in India a U.S. boy’s rate is higher than a
doctor ’s or a civil servant’s.
The moment an individual gets his visa he is flooded with proposals with a high premium. The urge to come to the United States is so strong that software programmers started producing fake degree certificates, fake servic e certificates and the quality of candidates in highly substandard. I bring this up because =97 despite the danger that the letter poses of possible exaggerations and even gross generalization =97 it brings forward an issue that we can be certain is of no particular concern to the offices of the I.N.S. or the Department of Labor. The issue that the letter highlights, even perhaps without intending to, is that of gender inequality. And how te chnology, even when it promotes access to a better way of life for many, insinuates into an iniquitous custom one more element of oppression.
In an essay entitled Cycles and Circuits of Struggle in High
Technology Capitalism,
Nick Witheford has written that our
travels along capital’s data highways have discovered at every
point insurgencies and revolts, peo ple fighting for freedom from
work, creating a =91communications commons’, experimenting with
new forms of self-organization, and new relations to the natural
world.
Does the entry of Indian H-1B worker augur a change in the relations of production in the world of cybertechnology? No. But, the presence of such workers, their skills and their histories, introduce contradictions into the system that are not always easily absorbed or dissolved. They can sometimes provoke a public conversation and even promote new and radical organizations of change. They certainly remain alive as questions.