Loyola Marymount University has plunged into a high-stakes labor battle after abruptly announcing it would no longer recognize the union representing its non-tenure track faculty. In a campus-wide email sent earlier this month, Board Chair Paul Viviano declared the union “doesn’t exist anymore,” invoking a religious exemption from federal labor law to justify the decision. The move has sparked outrage from faculty, national labor advocates, and Catholic theologians, who say the university is engaging in brazen union busting under the cover of faith.
In response, LMU’s nearly 400 non-tenure track faculty members launched an Unfair Labor Practice strike authorization vote on September 24. The vote remains open until September 30 and, if passed, would authorize the faculty to walk off the job in protest of what they call an illegal and immoral betrayal.
The conflict comes after more than a year of organizing. In summer 2024, non-tenure track faculty at LMU, who teach across the Bellarmine College of Liberal Arts, the College of Communication and Fine Arts, and the School of Film and Television, voted overwhelmingly to unionize with SEIU Local 721. Their goal was straightforward: negotiate a first contract that would improve low pay, provide longer-term job security, and expand access to benefits.
For ten months, union leaders say they engaged in good-faith bargaining, submitting 39 proposals on everything from workload to compensation. But faculty allege the administration dragged its feet and never offered counterproposals on the most important issues, especially economic terms. “We gave them all of our articles early,” said Laura Huffman, a senior instructor of French. “They haven’t given us one counter proposal.”
Frustrated by the pace, union representatives filed several unfair labor practice charges against the university for stalling tactics. Then, in mid-September, LMU’s leadership escalated the conflict dramatically. It announced that the university would no longer recognize the union at all. The justification was a “constitutionally protected religious exemption” that administrators argue shields the Catholic institution from federal labor law oversight.
LMU has leaned on two main arguments to defend its reversal: mission and money. First, officials argue that federal oversight of labor relations would compromise the school’s religious identity. President Thomas Poon said recognition of the union would hand authority to a “third party that may not share our values,” undermining LMU’s Catholic mission. A university spokesperson cited Supreme Court precedent that religious universities cannot be compelled to bargain under the National Labor Relations Board.
Second, LMU leaders paint the union’s proposals as financially ruinous. In communications to students and employees, the administration claimed that accepting the faculty’s contract demands would require an 18 percent tuition increase, layoffs of up to 300 staff, and cuts to student programs. “Every path led to the same conclusion: unsustainable costs,” said LMU spokesperson Griff McNerney.
Instead of bargaining, the university announced it would move forward unilaterally with a package of measures: a 7.8 percent average merit raise for full-time non-tenure track faculty retroactive to August, expanded full-time positions, longer contract terms, and enhanced career pathways. Administrators have framed these changes as proof that faculty do not need a union to see improvements.
For faculty, the university’s move represents not just a legal dispute but a profound betrayal. Many instructors, who make up the backbone of LMU’s teaching workforce, say they already live on precarious contracts, cobble together multiple jobs, and lack the stability of tenure-track colleagues. They saw unionization as the best chance to win enforceable protections. The sense of betrayal is heightened by LMU’s Jesuit Catholic identity. Catholic social teaching has long upheld the right of workers to organize, dating back to papal encyclicals in the late 19th century. A group of ten Catholic theologians, some current faculty and some retired, issued a letter condemning LMU’s stance as incompatible with Catholic values. “Non-tenure track faculty deserve to have a decent middle-class life,” said one.
Faculty frustration has spilled into public protest. At a rally following the announcement, instructors, students, and supporters carried signs accusing LMU of hypocrisy and union busting. At a campus listening session, faculty described what they called a three-hour public shaming in which administrators deflected criticism rather than addressed concerns.
At the heart of the dispute is a contested legal doctrine. While the Supreme Court has ruled that the NLRB cannot regulate certain religious institutions, experts note that LMU’s situation is unusual. The university did not object to the union’s formation on religious grounds when faculty petitioned for recognition in 2024. In fact, LMU participated in bargaining for nearly a year before invoking the exemption.
Labor law scholars suggest this could weaken the university’s case. There is no clear precedent for a university to simply revoke recognition of a union after certification and months of bargaining. Whether LMU’s move will stand may depend on how the NLRB or the courts interpret the timing and scope of the exemption.
But there are complications. The NLRB currently lacks a quorum, limiting its ability to act quickly. That could delay resolution and leave faculty in limbo. In the meantime, the union has filed new unfair labor practice charges and is preparing for potential strike action if negotiations are not restored.
Beyond the legal technicalities, the LMU fight is also a clash over values. For faculty, the contradiction is stark: a Catholic university that cites faith to deny workers their right to organize, even as Catholic teaching emphasizes solidarity and labor rights. LMU’s leadership, by contrast, insists it is acting to protect its distinctive identity and financial viability. In public messaging, administrators stress their commitment to faculty well-being and argue that their unilateral measures demonstrate responsiveness without union involvement.
Other Catholic universities, however, have chosen differently. Faculty unions operate at Georgetown, Fordham, and Santa Clara. That raises questions about why LMU has taken such an aggressive anti-union stance and whether the exemption is being used less as a matter of principle than as a convenient legal escape hatch.
The outcome of this conflict will have ramifications far beyond LMU’s campus. If the university succeeds in its strategy, it could embolden other religious institutions to invoke exemptions after union certification, effectively nullifying faculty bargaining rights. Such a precedent would weaken one of the few levers contingent faculty have to improve conditions in a higher education system increasingly dependent on their labor.
For LMU’s nearly 400 non-tenure track instructors, the stakes are immediate and personal. Many earn modest salaries for heavy teaching loads, with contracts that last only a year or even a semester. The promise of a collective contract was not just about pay but about dignity and stability. Without it, they remain vulnerable to administrative whim. For students, the outcome matters too. Faculty warn that turnover, burnout, and low morale among non-tenure track instructors undermine the quality of education. Tuition hikes and program cuts, which the university itself has raised as a threat, would fall on students as well.