Air Canada Flight Attendants vs. Ottawa: Why the Back-to-Work Order Misses the Moment
In the early hours of Saturday, August 16, more than 10,000 Air Canada flight attendants—represented by CUPE—walked off the job after months of stalled talks. Within hours, the federal government stepped in, invoking Section 107 of the Canada Labour Code to direct the Canada Industrial Relations Board to impose binding arbitration and end the work stoppage. The stated goal: protect the economy and restore “industrial peace.”
The stakes were huge. Air Canada had already begun suspending operations and warning that roughly 130,000 passengers a day could be affected in peak travel season. Airports saw picket lines and passengers scrambling for rebookings as the airline also moved toward a lockout response. But the central issue wasn’t travel chaos; it was pay and unpaid work. Flight attendants demanded fair compensation for ground time—the boarding, safety checks, assisting families, and managing delays that define so much of their day but historically isn’t fully paid—plus wage increases that keep pace with inflation and parity with competitors such as Air Transat.
Air Canada argues it offered a significant package—often framed as 38% in total compensation over four years, including new “ground pay” and a large first-year bump—while maintaining that service disruptions were untenable. CUPE counters that the headline numbers mask partial pay for ground duties and leave attendants behind peers in the sector. Reuters reporting notes the union’s push for full ground-time compensation and parity benchmarks; Air Canada’s own releases tout an “industry-leading” ground pay provision. This is the crux: time on the job should be time on the clock.
By midday Saturday, the federal order effectively ended the strike and shunted the dispute into arbitration. The Associated Press, Reuters and others confirmed that Minister Patty Hajdu invoked Section 107, a rarely used power intended for situations where immediate action is deemed necessary to protect the public interest. In practical terms, it told workers to stand down—right as their leverage peaked.
But today, August 17, the story took a dramatic turn: flight attendants are openly defying the back-to-work order. Across major airports, CUPE members remain on picket lines, insisting that their constitutional right to strike cannot be legislated away at the very moment it matters most. This act of defiance signals that the government’s gamble may backfire, escalating the crisis rather than cooling it. Instead of industrial peace, Ottawa now faces an open confrontation between workers and the state.
Flight attendants are not asking for exotic perks; they’re asking to be paid for the work they already do, especially during boarding and other on-the-ground duties, and for wage increases that reflect a safety-critical, customer-facing role that has only grown more demanding. They also argue for equity: when pilots won substantial increases in 2024, attendants—who are predominantly women—saw a widening gap that many interpret as a gendered pay inequity inside the same company. Polling even suggests a public tilt toward the attendants’ case on ground pay.
Section 107 empowers the minister to direct the CIRB to take steps (including arbitration) to resolve a dispute if it threatens the economy or public interest. It’s legal—but legality isn’t the same as legitimacy. Timing matters. Invoking these power hours into a strike effectively nullifies workers’ constitutional right to strike—recognized as part of freedom of association—at the precise moment it carries weight. It transforms the strike from a negotiated pressure tactic into a speed bump. The minister’s own statement frames the move as necessary to “protect Canadians” and “secure industrial peace,” but the message to workers is unmistakable: when push comes to shove, Ottawa will pull the fire alarm for the employer.
For a newly elected Liberal government that campaigned on respect for labour, this is a brutal optics problem. Business councils called for action; Ottawa delivered. The union—and a range of labour voices—called it anti-worker, warning of a dangerous precedent: if ground-time pay and basic wage fairness can’t be fought for through a strike, what tool remains? A strike without the possibility of disruption is theatre, not bargaining. Labour leaders have already blasted the move as “anti-union and anti-worker,” and they’re not wrong to worry about precedent creep.
Canada’s courts have recognized that the right to strike is a Charter-protected component of meaningful collective bargaining. Governments can limit it—but only with careful justification and minimal impairment. Using Section 107 at the very outset of a legal strike, rather than after an extended impasse or genuine threat to life, health, or safety, risks looking like a convenience tool for corporate continuity, not a last-resort public-interest measure. That’s why this will be read, fairly, as a crushing blow to workers’ rights—and potentially a misread of Charter values in modern labour law. (To be clear: the order stands; the constitutional conversation will play out in public, at the CIRB, and possibly in court.)
Politically, siding with the country’s dominant airline over tens of thousands of frontline workers—amid record summer fares and healthy airline financials—undercuts the government’s working-class brand. It makes the Liberals look captured by corporate interests, exactly when trust is thin and affordability is the ballot question. And now, with attendants refusing to comply, the government risks looking weak on enforcement as well as unjust in principle.
If the government insists on arbitration, it should at minimum publish clear, pro-worker terms of reference: full compensation for ground duties; transparent parity analysis with competitor airlines; and retroactive protections recognizing months of bargaining. Air Canada should be required to report publicly on implementation timelines and compliance. Without that, arbitration risks reproducing the very inequities that triggered the strike in the first place.
The big picture is simple. Canadians rely on flight attendants for safety, dignity, and order at 35,000 feet—and in jammed jetways before we ever push back. Paying them fairly for all of that work is not radical; it’s responsible. Invoking Section 107 on Day One may keep planes moving sooner, but it moves workers’ rights backwards. And as today shows, workers are not quietly accepting that rollback—they’re standing their ground, even when told to sit down.