UC Tech Workers Build Nation’s Largest Tech Union Amid AI Threats and Layoff Fears

In the shadow of Silicon Valley’s endless churn of layoffs and artificial intelligence hype, more than 2,100 information technology professionals at the University of California did something unexpected. They voted overwhelmingly to join a union. The move created the largest tech worker bargaining unit in the United States, with 8,400 members now represented by University Professional and Technical Employees-CWA Local 9119.

But this wasn’t some spontaneous eruption. It grew from years of frustration, concrete contract wins, and methodical organizing that reached into offices, Zoom calls, Slack channels, and living rooms across California. The story reveals how public-sector tech workers have carved out gains their private-industry peers still chase. And it signals a broader shift in how those who build and maintain the digital infrastructure of one of the world’s premier research universities intend to shape the future of their own labor.

Dan Russell works as a business technology support analyst at UC Berkeley. He also serves as president of UPTE-CWA Local 9119. He joined the union years ago after seeing a flyer. Back then the effort to organize IT workers moved slowly. Russell stepped up, joined the executive board, and helped push through a reform leadership slate in 2018. He told Jacobin that the recent contract fight changed everything.

The agreement, reached in November 2025 after 17 months of bargaining and five short strikes, delivered raises totaling around 22 percent over three years. It capped health insurance premium increases, saving some members as much as $300 a month. Most striking were the layoff protections. Before any represented worker could face termination, the university must offer a vacant position for which the employee qualifies anywhere in the UC system. Preferential rehire rights now span all campuses. Seniority governs layoffs. Just-cause protections apply.

Those terms proved magnetic. Non-union tech workers watched unionized colleagues keep their jobs during reorganizations while others reinterviewed multiple times for positions they already held. Max Belasco, a business systems analyst and manager of instructional technology at UCLA School of Law, lived that contrast. He left the bargaining unit for what management pitched as a promotion. He soon regretted it. “I lost a lot of the contract protections, I lost out on raises that colleagues who stayed union caught up to within a year, and I pay more in health care premiums,” Belasco said in the same Jacobin interview.

The two-tier system created visible resentment. Union members enjoyed steady wage growth. Data compiled by UPTE shows its represented tech workers received cumulative wage increases of 45 percent between 2018 and 2026. Non-union counterparts averaged just 27 percent over the same period. Year by year the gaps stand out. Union members saw 6 percent in 2019, another 6 percent in 2020, then 3.5, 5, 3.5, 5, at least 8 in 2025, and 7 percent scheduled for 2026. Non-union staff received noticeably smaller bumps, including zero percent in 2020. Those figures come directly from UPTE’s own organizing page.

Recent contract language adds further advantages. A 5 percent across-the-board raise took effect in July for represented workers. Another is scheduled later. Healthcare subsidies held most 2026 rates steady or lower for many plans. Annual caps on future premium hikes protect against cost creep. Remote and hybrid work arrangements gained safeguards. Changes now require at least 30 days’ notice, and some units successfully defended flexible schedules against return-to-office pushes.

But money and protections alone don’t explain the scale of this organizing drive. Workers repeatedly point to artificial intelligence. They fear not just replacement but misguided implementation decided by consultants and administrators far from the actual work. “High-level decisions regarding AI or any technology are often not made by people who are actually implementing these tools, but those are the people that should have a place at the table,” Belasco told Berkeleyside in May.

Russell echoed the anxiety. Campuses had already seen IT layoffs in the preceding six months. Private-sector bloodbaths at companies like Meta, where thousands lost jobs as roles shifted toward AI, loomed large. “I think we’ve seen the university follow some of the trends that you see in the private sector, so I’m worried about that,” he said in the same report. The union now intends to bargain over AI deployment, staffing levels, and the human judgment that software cannot replace. Similar language has appeared in contracts won by UC nurses and other campus unions.

The campaign that delivered this majority followed proven labor methods. Organizers identified respected workplace leaders on every campus. They built committees. Thousands of one-on-one conversations followed, first over video calls and chat, then in person. When remote work made traditional shop-floor contact difficult, teams turned to home visits. Skeptical at first, organizers knocked on doors across the state. The personal touch cut through Zoom fatigue. “I drove from Santa Monica to Orange County to knock on doors,” Belasco recalled. That effort helped secure the votes needed under California’s card-check rules, which require majority support of the entire proposed unit, not just those who cast ballots.

This approach built on the contract fight. That earlier battle featured member surveys, platform ratification, strike authorization votes, and actual work stoppages. Five strikes over roughly a year pressured the university to settle. The resulting deal, ratified by 98 percent of voters, set the table for expansion. New titles joined the unit: application programmers, business systems analysts, data systems analysts, database administrators, information systems analysts, and instructional designers. The Communications Workers of America hailed the outcome as the largest tech organizing campaign in U.S. history. Its announcement noted the union’s intent to fight for job security, better wages, and a voice in AI governance.

Yet success has not erased tension. In July, shortly after the new members joined, UCLA Digital & Technology Solutions laid off 27 workers, including at least 10 newly represented by UPTE. Union leaders cried foul, arguing the cuts violated contract terms. The episode underscores that recognition is only the beginning. Enforcement matters. Ongoing recruitment continues because not every tech worker has signed a membership card yet. A majority must join before the July 2026 raise applies systemwide.

Member stories collected by UPTE illustrate the stakes. Luis Baquera, a system administrator at UC Riverside, said without the union he would have lost his job with no recourse during a prior reorganization. Randy Turner at UC San Diego credited UPTE with giving him a voice against return-to-office mandates. Others spoke of wanting input on staffing, resources for their public-service mission, and the ability to plan lives beyond constant precarity. These accounts appear throughout UPTE’s materials.

The university’s public posture remains measured. Officials say they value tech employees and seek productive relationships with both represented and non-represented staff. A joint statement after the 2025 contract deal highlighted significant across-the-board raises, expanded leave, minimum wage guarantees, and new holidays. Bargaining for the current agreement had begun in June 2024. The deal arrived after mediation.

Still, the power balance has shifted. With thousands more voices at the table, UPTE can now push on issues that once seemed distant from traditional union concerns. How should AI tools assist rather than displace student services, clinical support, or research infrastructure? What staffing ratios prevent burnout when positions stay vacant? How does the university meet its public mission when budget pressures mirror private-sector cost-cutting?

Private tech companies watch these developments warily. Most have resisted unionization fiercely. The UC example offers a different model, one rooted in public accountability, steady if unspectacular compensation, and explicit worker input on technological change. Its success may encourage similar efforts elsewhere, especially among engineers and analysts disillusioned by endless restructuring and executive promises that AI will handle the rest.

Belasco hopes the victory sends a message. Tech workers face many of the same pressures as employees in other fields. Collective action remains possible. “What I’m hoping is that this victory gives people the sense that tech workers deal with a lot of the same workplace situations as people in other industries, and it is possible to bring people together for a shared vision of how our workplace can be,” he told Berkeleyside.

Russell put it more bluntly in the Jacobin conversation. Unions can help recapture technology’s original promise. Instead of enriching the worst actors, tools should serve broader human needs. That vision now has the backing of the country’s biggest tech union. Whether it can withstand the next round of budget shortfalls, AI experiments, or administrative reorganizations will test the strength of the structure these workers spent years building. The early returns suggest they are ready for the fight.