Who really pays when a company fails?

Another store goes into voluntary administration. Another headline assesses how much debt is owed to creditors and how many stores’ doors close. But these numbers hide the people behind them. Hundreds of retail workers, including students and long-term employees, are left negotiating how they'll survive the loss of their income. As more Australian retailers struggle to survive, we need to stop treating workers as collateral damage.

Since graduating high school, my days have been spent unpacking boxes, helping customers and sharing laughs with my fellow Betts coworkers. Many of us are university students, parents, long-time loyal employees and juggling multiple jobs—something that has become a necessity in Australia’s cost of living crisis. My retail job wasn’t extra spending money, my wage was what I needed to live every day.

“Betts is going into voluntary administration”, sounded like corporate jargon, but it carried the heavy and simple truth that I no longer had a job. My friends no longer had a job. Quickly we all started calculating how far our savings could stretch us while looking for new income streams in the ever so depressing and barren job market. What was truly chilling was after this bomb was dropped, there was complete silence. We were left unanswered and ignored.

In particular, there were blurring lines about if employees facing termination who had accumulated entitlements and long-service leave would be paid out. Many of my coworkers had worked hard for 15-20 years at Betts and withholding this pay seemed to be their send-off gift. While there are existing mechanisms to claim unpaid leave and entitlements through the Fair Work Ombudsman under the governmental safety net scheme, Fair Entitlements Guarantee, they are very timely processes. Also, once a company is bankrupt or liquidated, you can kiss your hard earned benefits goodbye.

This factor was not helped by the subsequent media reports. Reports told the community that “Betts… will shut more than half its stores”, and will “heavily discount 120,000 pairs of shoes and accessories”, as they were emboldened by the captivating headline: “The 134-year-old brand’s downfall with at least $28m debts”. All of the articles began to sound interchangeable, with identical statistics and facts.

Thus, the picture was painted; except it was not complete. Stores are closing, discounts will ensue, debt is abundant; but they say almost nothing about the people. The people who opened and closed those stores every morning and evening, served customers, built friendships and relied on those pay cheques. Why aren’t we noticing the 243 workers? My perspective may be selfish as I am a part of the 179 casual retail employees at Betts facing unemployment. As the unfortunate reality of the economy rears its ugly head and businesses continue to fail, retail workers are visibly treated without any dignity or consideration. Our public conversation about corporate collapse is inadequate.

This narrative is misleading and desensitises individuals to the devastation of job loss, especially when it is completely out of your own agency. This is not a hate piece on how Betts navigated voluntary administration; it is to understand how Australia talks about retail collapse. Real people and their means of support are being reduced to financial figures, however this issue goes far beyond just Betts.

Australia’s retail sector is struggling, as cheaper, alternative, international companies work to crush national brands. Brick and mortar stores dwindle as rent rises and consumers favour online shopping, if they can find the money to spend as household budgets tighten. There has been a wave of Australian retailers entering voluntary administration and shutting their doors, including Lincraft, Glue Store and Mosaic Brands which comprises labels such as Millers and Noni B.

I worked casually for Betts, a common employment option, though an unsteady one. Unsteady in the sense that I am not owed anything in situations like these. We are so discardable, which adds tremendous anxiety in an economic world with soaring cost of living pressures. However, this effect is cyclical as the closing of brick and mortar stores only decreases the jobs that are available. Young Australians are dependent on retail employment, with more than 500,000 retail workers being under the age of 24.

Companies will continue to fail, that is an inevitable part of any economy that Australia is unfortunately not immune to. But people who have kept those businesses running should not disappear from the story the moment the doors close. Don’t we owe workers far more respect and decency than that? When reading how business collapses are discussed in the media, it is no wonder there is a lack of government protection, as well as a complete insensitivity from people in the community towards employees.

Simply, there should be greater security for employees. This comprises stronger redundancy protections, something to be provided by the Fair Work Ombudsman. Critically these protections can also start with better communication and notice from companies to their workers. At Betts, we received no notice that the company was entering voluntary administration and many employees at stores with immediate closures received no warning that their jobs were essentially disappearing overnight. Staff members deserve timely and honest communication encompassing regular updates throughout the administration process, so we are not left relying on information from the evening news or rumours spread through the work grapevine.

The most paramount shift does not lie in the laws or how companies navigate this difficult period, but it is in how we think. Corporate collapses should be measured not only by financial losses but by their human impact. This starts with workers being treated as key stakeholders rather than as an afterthought. Humans are the most important machines behind businesses, but these manufactured accounts mean we are continuously reduced. If headlines can count every dollar lost, they can also make room for the people whose livelihoods disappeared with them.