Environment

It’s Not Paranoia if Dow Chemical Really is Breaking Into Your Office

Wall Street has been in a state of high alert over reports that the next big document dump by the transparency extremists at WikiLeaks will concern a major U.S. bank. The stock price of Bank of America recently plunged for a while on speculation that it was the target.

Yet the bigger espionage story of recent days is one in which a major U.S. corporation is alleged to be the culprit rather than the victim. Greenpeace has just filed a racketeering complaint in DC federal court alleging that Dow Chemical and a smaller chemical company – a North American subsidiary of South Africa’s Sasol Ltd. – conspired with a leading public relations firm, Ketchum Inc., and a smaller pr outfit called Dezenhall Resources Ltd., to spy on Greenpeace.

This is said to have occurred from 1998 to 2000, a period when Greenpeace was campaigning against the dioxin risks created by manufacturing facilities such as those run by Dow and Sasol North America, which at the time was known as CONDEA Vista and was owned by the German energy giant RWE.

What’s the big deal, you might ask. Don’t environmental groups monitor big corporations all the time? In fact, the web page on which Greenpeace presents its materials about the lawsuit contains a prominent link to its archive of its corporate investigations. Shouldn’t companies be able to keep tabs on their opponents?

The difference between what Greenpeace does and what Dow et al. allegedly did is the small matter of adherence to the law. The defendants are accused not of using legitimate information-gathering techniques but rather of engaging in illegal activities such as trespass, invasion of privacy, conversion (a form of theft) of confidential documents – even misappropriation of Greenpeace’s “trade secrets.”

The complaint alleges these firms hired private security consultant Beckett Brown International (BBI; later known as S2I Corporation) to do their dirty work. The now defunct BBI, at the time run and staffed by former employees of the Secret Service and federal intelligence agencies, is said to have hired subcontractors who broke all kinds of laws to get at internal information about the operations, strategic plans and finances of Greenpeace and apparently a number of other groups such as Friends of the Earth and the Center for Food Safety. Prominent environmental activists allied with Greenpeace, such as the legendary Lois Gibbs, are also said to have been spied on.

One of the most troubling allegations in the complaint is that BBI employed off-duty DC police officers to gain access to private premises (including locked areas in which Greenpeace kept its trash and recycling materials before they were collected) by showing their badges as if they were on official business. Greenpeace says it has recovered more than 1,000 pages of its internal documents – a fraction, it says, of what was taken. Greenpeace alleges that most of the papers came not from BBI incursions against its dumpsters but rather from direct break-ins at the group’s DC offices. Electronic surveillance is also charged.

BBI apparently did not have much of a reputation to protect, but the case is presumably a significant setback for Dezenhall Resources, which calls itself “the nation’s leading high-stakes communications consultancy.” Its principal Eric Dezenhall, a White House staffer during the Reagan Administration, has written several books (fiction and non-fiction) and frequently publishes commentaries in the Huffington Post and the Daily Beast. He helped Forbes compile its list of the year’s biggest corporate blunders.

Having worked for clients such as Michael Jackson and Enron executive Jeffrey Skilling, Dezenhall fancies himself a pr gunslinger; others have called him the “pit bull” of public relations. Now that he is on the hot seat himself, Dezenhall seems less inclined to take the offensive. When the Washington Post contacted him about the Greenpeace suit, his response was “no comment.”

That was also the response of spokespeople for Dow Chemical, Sasol and Ketchum. Dow, of course, has been no stranger to controversy from its role as a producer of napalm and Agent Orange during the Vietnam War to its refusal to adequately compensate the victims of the Bhopal tragedy after taking over Union Carbide. Just think of all the juicy secrets that would come out if WikiLeaks ever got hold of its archives. But for now the Greenpeace suit is shedding light on an egregious case of corporate misconduct.

Full Graphic Disclosure

Forget Joe Camel and the Marlboro Man. Federal regulators want people to think of disease, birth defects and death when they pick up a package of cigarettes. The Food and Drug Administration, implementing legislation passed by Congress last year, has just released three dozen proposed enhanced warning labels that manufacturers would have to print on each pack of cancer sticks.

In the place of the plain text warnings that have appeared on tobacco packaging for years, these labels would be much larger and much more visually striking. The proposals include, for example, photos of a smoker in an open coffin, a mother blowing cigarette smoke at her infant child, and a sickly cancer victim.

The main objective of the warnings is to encourage existing smokers to quit and the dissuade children from picking up the dangerous habit. But apart from consumer behavior modification, the labels can be seen as a form of disclosure—disclosure of the harmful effects of a product.

The need for bold messages about deleterious aspects of the things we buy is not limited to cigarettes. It might make sense to apply the FDA’s approach to a whole range of goods and services. For example:

SUV models shown to be prone to rollovers should come not just with a plain-text sticker showing miles per gallon, but also full-color photos of mangled vehicles with bleeding drivers and passengers.
Electric bills sent by utilities relying on coal-fired power plants should be required to include photographs of floods, droughts and other effects of catastrophic climate change.
The pumps at gas stations should be adorned with photographs of oil spills and refinery disasters.
A variety of products sold by Wal-Mart should have packaging containing images of the oppressive Chinese sweatshops in which they were produced.
Stores selling gold jewelry should display photographs showing the despoiled land around the cyanide-leaching facilities in which the precious metal is mined.
Producers of dangerous pharmaceuticals should be required not just to mention possible injurious side effects, which most people have tuned out, but to show images of actual victims.
Health insurance providers should have to send out pictures of policyholders who died because an expensive treatment was rejected by the company.
Perhaps manufacturers of the worst junk food should be required to air commercials with actors who are morbidly obese.
And, of course, gun sellers should have to hand out gory photos of victims of accidental discharges.

Given the exalted status of commercial free speech in this country, these ideas could never come to pass. Yet there is still a serious issue to address: How do we turn dry data about corporate harms into messages people pay attention to?

The objective, however, is not just to change consumer behavior but also that of producers. All disclosure is meant to highlight an activity that is subject to abuse and hopefully curb those abuses. The Environmental Protection Agency’s Toxics Release Inventory is designed to get manufacturers to clean up their production processes – and has had a positive impact. Campaign contribution disclosure is meant discourage the big-money takeover of elections (there’s obviously been a lot less progress on that front, especially now that much corporate electoral spending can take place anonymously). Disclosure of executive compensation is supposed to check the relentless march toward lavish CEO salaries, bonuses and stock options (another less than rousing success).

The fact that disclosure does not immediately cure the problem it is meant to highlight does not undermine the case for transparency. It may simply mean that the form of the disclosure is not compelling enough. That’s the beauty of the FDA approach to cigarettes.

In replacing the misleading feel-good images that marketers have long sought to associate with even the most noxious products, the aggressive warning labels begin to force corporations to be honest about what they sell and consumers to come to grips with the true nature of much of what they consume. This form of anti-advertising may begin to liberate us from the illusions of our manufactured desires.

The Dark Side of Family Business

Americans love entrepreneurship, and no form of it is more celebrated than the family business. Most of us distrust big banks and giant corporations, but who doesn’t have warm feelings about mom and pop companies or family farms? These are the types of firms that politicians of all stripes want to shower with tax breaks and other forms of government assistance.

The problem is that family enterprises, like pet alligators, may start out as small and cuddly but can grow into large and dangerous monsters. We’ve seen two examples of this recently in connection with the family-owned oil company Koch Industries and the egg empire controlled by the DeCoster Family.

Koch Industries and its principals David and Charles Koch are the subject of a detailed article in The New Yorker by Jane Mayer. Much of the information in the piece has previously come out in blogs, websites and muckraking reports by environment groups, but she does a good job of consolidating those revelations and presenting them in a prestigious outlet.

Mayer describes how the Kochs, who are worth billions, have for decades used their fortune to bankroll a substantial portion of rightwing activism and are currently the big money behind groups such as Americans for Prosperity that are helping coordinate the purportedly grassroots Tea Party movement. What makes the Kochs especially insidious is that they use the guise of philanthropy to fund organizations promoting policy positions – environmental deregulation and global warming denial – that directly serve the Koch corporate interests, which include some of the country’s most polluting and greenhouse-gas-generating operations. The Kochs also contribute heavily to mainstream philanthropic causes such as the Metropolitan Opera and the Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center to win influential allies and gain respectability.

The DeCosters, whose egg business is at the center of the current salmonella outbreak, are not in the same social circles as the Kochs, but they have an even more egregious record of business misconduct. Hiding behind deceptively modest company names such as Wright County Egg, the family, led by Jack DeCoster, has risen to the top of the egg business while running afoul of a wide range of state and federal regulations.

As journalists such as Alec MacGillis of the Washington Post have recounted, the DeCosters have paid millions of dollars in fines for violating environmental regulations (manure spills), workplace health and safety rules (workers forced to handle manure and dead chickens with their bare hands), immigration laws (widespread employment of undocumented workers), animal protection regulations (hens twirled by their necks, kicked into manure pits to drown and subjected to other forms of cruelty), wage and hour standards (failure to pay overtime), and sex discrimination laws (female workers from Mexico molested by supervisors).

Their lawlessness dates back decades. A November 11, 1979 article in the Washington Post about Jack DeCoster’s plan to expand from his original base in Maine to the Eastern Shore of Maryland states that he was leaving behind “disputes over child labor, union organizing drives and citations for safety violations.” In 1988 the Maryland operation was barred from selling its eggs in New York State after an outbreak of salmonella. In 1996 the Occupational Safety and Health Administration fined the DeCosters $3.6 million for making its employees toil in filth. Then-Labor Secretary Robert Reich said conditions were “as dangerous and oppressive as any sweatshop we have seen.”

The DeCosters were notorious enough to be featured in a 1999 report by the Sierra Club called Corporate Hogs at the Public Trough. The title referred to the fact that concentrated animal feeding operations (CAFOs) such as those operated by the DeCosters were receiving substantial federal subsidies despite their dismal regulatory track record.

Articles about Jack DeCoster invariably describe him as self-made and hard-working. “Jack doesn’t fish, he doesn’t hunt, he doesn’t go to nightclubs,” a farmer in Maine told the New York Times in 1996. “He does business — 18 hours a day.” He was recently described as a “born-again Baptist who has contributed significant amounts of money to rebuild churches in Maine and in Iowa.”

Like the Kochs, DeCoster apparently thinks that some philanthropic gestures will wipe away a multitude of business transgressions. Yet no amount of charitable giving can change the fact that these men grew rich by disregarding the well-being of workers, consumers and the earth. Such are the family values of these family businessmen.

Obama’s Oil Magic

BP has been selling off small pieces of itself to help pay for its liability costs in the Gulf of Mexico. Here’s another way it can economize: eliminate its public relations staffers and outside consultants such as the well-connected Podesta Group. The oil giant doesn’t need them any longer, now that the Obama Administration has taken over responsibility for burnishing the image of the beleaguered oil giant.

BP’s new mouthpieces include Carol Browner, whose official title is Director of the White House Office of Energy and Climate Change Policy, and Jane Lubchenco, head of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Browner has taken to the airwaves to deliver the mind-boggling message that the BP mess — which had just been declared by federal scientists to be the largest oil spill in history — has largely disappeared: “The vast majority of the oil is gone,” she told NBC’s Matt Lauer. “It was captured. It was skimmed. It was burned. It was contained. Mother Nature did her part.”

Lubchenco presided over the preparation of a five-page report claiming that one-quarter of the 200 million gallons of crude released from BP’s Macondo well “naturally evaporated or dissolved”; another quarter was dispersed “naturally” or chemically; and a third quarter was either directly recovered, burned off or skimmed from the surface, leaving a “residual” of 26 percent, among which is whatever BP collects from the shore.

In other words: Abracadabra, the oil is gone.

If BP had tried this kind of magic trick, it would have been laughed off the stage. The administration, exploiting the legitimacy of NOAA and Browner, a former head of the Environmental Protection Agency, is being taken (somewhat) seriously. In doing so, it is acting as a sort of front group for BP, giving more credence to the company’s claims of having carried out an effective clean-up operation. The remarkable claims about evaporation and dissolution could also help to reduce BP’s ultimate liability costs.

At the same time, the White House is clearly trying to protect itself. The NOAA report can be seen as a justification for the administration’s capitulation to BP on the issue of chemical dispersants. Only a few days before the announcement of the NOAA calculations, the House Select Committee on Energy Independence and Global Warming had released documents showing that the Coast Guard had repeatedly approved BP requests to apply large quantities of Corexit, despite EPA’s claim to have ordered the company to restrict its use of the controversial chemicals.

It is difficult to avoid the impression that BP and the administration have conspired to disguise the full extent of the disaster through the use of the dispersant, which reduces the amount of sludge arriving on shore but is having as yet unknown effects on the ecology of the gulf. The White House is so compromised in this situation that it seems unable to recognize the dissonance between the President’s statement that this is the “worst environmental disaster America has ever faced” and the new message, which is essentially “don’t worry, be happy.”

The positive spin is giving ammunition to figures such as Rush Limbaugh, who have been claiming for some time that the impact of the BP spill has been exaggerated. By encouraging these disaster deniers, the administration is undermining the rationale for continuing the deepwater drilling moratorium and even for the transformation of the former Minerals Management Service into a real regulatory watchdog.

If spills — including gigantic ones such as BP’s — can be brought under control so easily with dispersants and Mother Nature, why bother to restrict offshore drilling? After an incident that should have discredited that activity once and for all, the Obama Administration has in effect paved the way for a return to “Drill, Baby, Drill.” Quite a magic trick.

The New Petro-Villain

The BP oil disaster in the Gulf of Mexico is 100 days old, and now another company is competing for the spotlight as a major petro-villain.

The upstart is Enbridge Energy Partners L.P. — a U.S.-based subsidiary of the Canadian pipeline giant Enbridge Inc. — which is responsible for the recent accident in Michigan that has filled the Kalamazoo River with some 800,000 gallons of oil and shown that crude does not need to be offshore to cause serious environmental damage. The incident occurred only months after the company was warned that it was not properly monitoring corrosion.

Enbridge is no stranger to controversy, both because of its own performance problems, including a series of earlier spills, and its role in facilitating the distribution of oil produced in environmentally destructive situations such as the Alberta tar sands. This dubious track record is worth a closer look.

In January 2001 a seam failure on a pipeline near Enbridge’s Hardisty Terminal in Alberta spilled more than 1 million gallons of oil.
In July 2002 a 34-inch-diameter pipeline owned by Enbridge Energy Partners ruptured in northern Minnesota, contaminating five acres of wetland with about 250,000 gallons of crude oil.
In January 2003 about 189,000 gallons of crude oil spilled into the Nemadji River from the Enbridge Energy Terminal in Superior, Wisconsin. Fortunately, the river was frozen at the time, so damage was limited.
In 2004 the federal Pipeline and Hazardous Materials Safety Administration (PHMSA) proposed a fine of $11,500 against Enbridge Energy for safety violations found during inspections of pipelines in Illinois, Indiana and Michigan. The penalty was later reduced to $5,000. In a parallel case involving Enbridge Pipelines operations in Minnesota, an initial penalty of $30,000 was revised to $25,000.
In January 2007 an Enbridge pipeline in Wisconsin spilled more than 50,000 gallons of crude oil onto a farmer’s field in Clark County. The following month another Enbridge spill in Wisconsin released 176,000 gallons of crude in Rusk County.
In November 2007 two workers were killed in an explosion that occurred at an Enbridge pipeline in Clearbrook, Minnesota. The PHMSA proposed a fine of $2.4 million for safety violations connected to the incident, but the case has not been resolved.
In 2008 the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources charged Enbridge Energy with more than 100 environmental violations relating to the construction of a 320-mile pipeline across much of the state. The agency said that Enbridge workers illegally cleared and disrupted wooded wetlands and were responsible for other actions that resulted in discharging sediment into waterways. In January 2009 the company settled the charges by agreeing to pay $1.1 million in penalties.
In 2009 the PHMSA fined Enbridge Pipelines LLC-North Dakota $105,000 for a 2007 accident that released more than 9,000 gallons of crude oil.
In March 2010 the PHMSA proposed a fine of $28,800 against Enbridge Pipelines LLC for safety violations in Oklahoma; the case is not yet resolved.

Apart from its safety record, Enbridge is targeted by environmentalists for its role in transporting crude oil from the controversial tar sand operations of northeastern Alberta, which are regarded as one of the largest contributors to global warming as well as a major source of air and water pollution and forest destruction. Enbridge’s predecessor companies had some involvement in the tar sands as early as the 1970s. That role expanded greatly in the late 1990s, when Enbridge completed construction of an $800 million expansion of its pipeline system to bring tar sands oil to Eastern Canada and the U.S. Midwest. The pipeline initially served Suncor Energy, a spinoff of U.S.-based Sunoco that is now Canada’s largest petroleum company.

In recent years Enbridge has spent billions of dollars to expand its oil pipeline capacity, much of it dedicated to the tar sands industry. Enbridge is set to provide another boon to the tar sands producers with the opening later this year of its Alberta Clipper pipeline, which will carry more of the dirty crude to Superior, Wisconsin. It is also proceeding with its Northern Gateway Project, which involves the construction of parallel pipelines from the tar sands region to the western shore of British Columbia. Enbridge is partnering with PetroChina on that project.

Enbridge is also headed for more controversy in light of its announcement in March 2010 that it would develop a natural gas pipeline serving areas of Pennsylvania and nearby states where Marcellus Shale drilling is taking place. Those drilling activities have been the subject of numerous reports of drinking water contamination.

Like BP, Enbridge depicts itself as a strong proponent of corporate social responsibility. Also like BP, Enbridge illustrates how those noble sentiments are meaningless in the face of repeated acts of negligence and recklessness.

Refusing the Poisoned Apple

Strikes are rare these days (outside China), so the walkout by a group of some 300 workers at a Mott’s juice and applesauce plant in upstate New York takes on added significance: All the more so because the plant’s parent company has gone through a string of ownership changes involving a notorious corporate raider and a major transnational company whose machinations paved the way for the pressure on the Mott’s workers to reduce their standard of living.

The current dispute began earlier this year when contract renewal talks broke down between Mott’s and Local 220 of the Retail, Wholesale and Department Store Union, an affiliate of the United Food and Commercial Workers. According to the union, management refused to bargain in good faith and threatened to cut wages if its final offer was not accepted. The workers did not back down, the company made good on its threat, and a strike was called in May.

“Mott’s told us we were simply making too much,” said Local 220 President Mike Leberth. Most of the workers earn $19.92 an hour — a decent but hardly a princely rate.

The company’s move to cut labor costs was not born of necessity. Mott’s — the country’s number one brand for apple juice and applesauce — is owned by Dr. Pepper Snapple Group (DPS), one of the dominant companies in the U.S. non-alcoholic beverage market. Last year DPS reported profits of $555 million on sales of $5.5 billion. The company does not provide financial results for individual brands, but the segment of which Mott’s is a part (Packaged Beverages) enjoyed an increase in operating profit of more than 18 percent over the year before.

It is difficult to avoid the conclusion that the inclination of DPS management to squeeze workers comes out of its history of wheeling and dealing. The Dr. Pepper part of the company, which originated in the 1880s, went through a leveraged buyout in the 1980s and was then merged with another buyout victim, the Seven-Up Company, in 1988. Seven years later, the combined firm was acquired by British beverage and candy giant Cadbury Schweppes. In 2000 Cadbury purchased Snapple from Triarc Companies, the investment vehicle of corporate raider Nelson Peltz, and combined it with Dr. Pepper and Seven-Up. In 2007 Cadbury (now part of Kraft Foods) decided to exit from the American beverage business and spun off DPS the following year through a public offering.

The spinoff was instigated by Peltz, who had become one of Cadbury’s largest shareholders. Peltz then turned his sights on DPS. After accumulating a stake of more than 7 percent in the company through his Trian group, he began to pressure management to sell off its bottling operations.

Peltz appears to have given up on that effort (he has sold off about three quarters of his shares), but he must still be keeping DPS executives on edge. Peltz — a member of the Forbes 400 — has a history of squeezing corporations, to the detriment not only of management but also workers. One of his most notable “successes” was condiment maker Heinz, which Peltz pressured to close some 15 factories and eliminate thousands of jobs worldwide. In 2007 Britain’s Birmingham Post published an article on Peltz headlined “Billionaire Hated by Unions.”

Apart from the lingering effects of Peltz’s maneuvers, DPS may be facing some price pressure exerted by Wal-Mart, which, according to the DPS 10-K annual filing, is the company’s single largest customer, accounting for 13 percent of its sales.

All of this is not to take the management of DPS off the hook. DPS chief executive Larry Young apparently did not think there was anything wrong when he (presumably) authorized the management of Mott’s to seek wage and benefit reduction at around the same time that the company’s proxy statement was reporting that he received total compensation of $6.5 million last year.

DPS has also not been completely diligent about environmental matters. In 2005 one of its units in California paid the EPA more than $1 million in criminal and civil penalties for industrial stormwater and wastewater violations at two bottling plants. And this year, tests of children’s juice boxes done by Florida’s St. Petersburg Times found that Mott’s samples had arsenic concentrations above the “level of concern” set by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration and were the highest among those brands tested.

More than anything else, the situation at Mott’s illustrates that Corporate America no longer has any interest in permitting workers to be decently paid. Whereas certain companies once took pride in providing higher wages and better working conditions, that is now seen as a stigma — even when a firm is thriving. Whether to please Wall Street, Wal-Mart or the likes of Nelson Peltz, Mott’s and DPS are trying to force their employees to eat the poisoned apple of reduced living standards. It is encouraging that the members of Local 220, unlike Snow White, are not being lulled into oblivion.

A Business Backlash?

By all rights, the laissez-faire crowd should be silent these days. Recent months have been marked by one example after another of the perils of deregulation and the folly of trusting large corporations to do the right thing. From Toyota to Goldman Sachs to Massey Energy to BP, 2010 has been the year of big business irresponsibility.

As in 2002 (after the accounting scandals involving Enron, WorldCom et al.) and 2008 (the meltdown of Wall Street), we’re now at one of those moments, following an outbreak of corporate misconduct, in which public sentiment about business is up for grabs, as is public policy.

The business camp is already working hard to regain support, in ways ranging from BP’s seemingly benign vow to “make things right” to Rep. Joe Barton’s shameless “shakedown” outburst designed to turn the Obama Administration into the villain. Here are some other signs that corporations and their defenders are already going back on the offensive:

A federal judge with personal investments in the petroleum industry struck down the Obama Administration’s moratorium on deepwater drilling, despite evidence brought to light by Congressional investigators that the practice is much more dangerous than we had been led to believe and none of the oil giants have adequate accident response plans. The challenge to the moratorium had been brought by smaller oil service firms, but the judge’s decision was hailed by majors such as Chevron and Royal Dutch Shell.
Massey Energy, apparently hoping for a like-minded judge, has filed suit against the federal Mine Safety and Health Administration in a brazen effort to pin the blame on regulators for the April explosion at the Upper Big Branch mine in West Virginia that killed 29 workers.
Verizon Communications CEO Ivan Seidenberg, the current head of the Business Roundtable, recently gave a speech in which he challenged regulatory initiatives in the telecom and financial sectors, criticized efforts to limit tax avoidance by multinational companies, and declared: “It’s time for us all to raise our game and embrace the power of the private sector that will create real value and real growth for our country.”

If business advocates are emboldened to speak out so soon, that suggests that corporations have not been reprimanded adequately for their misconduct. The criticism expressed by the Obama Administration and Congressional Democrats has had a ritualistic quality about it—a Kabuki dance of disapproval that may not result in any real change.

Even the $20 billion BP escrow fund feels inadequate, given the fact that there is no end in sight to the disaster. Although BP’s shareholders are agonizing over the suspension of the dividend payment, the company itself does not seem very put out by the creation of the fund, especially since it is being allowed to spread out the cost over several years.

The ability of BP to buy its way out of the crisis contributes to the sense that large corporations can do the most outrageous things and emerge relatively unscathed. It is unlikely that the forthcoming criminal case against the company will cause much more discomfort. The company has already been through that process with previous disasters involving oil spills in Alaska and a deadly refinery explosion in Texas. It paid the resulting penalties with no problem, and the fact that it was put on probation has had little practical effect.

What’s needed is a more dramatic response to corporate negligence. It might be the arrest of a top executive or an announcement that the federal government will no longer do business with companies with serious regulatory violations or an antitrust initiative to try to break up large firms which think that their size somehow makes them above the law. Only then might corporations think twice about lashing back and returning to business as usual.

There Will Be Damage

Twenty billion dollars. The amount BP agreed to put in escrow is more than 250 times the company’s maximum obligation under the Oil Pollution Act of 1990. It is a remarkable sum to get a corporation to disgorge before there has been any formal finding of guilt. But is it enough?

While it is commendable that the people of the Gulf Coast will be guaranteed compensation, there is a risk that BP’s voluntary participation in the fund will allow it to avoid what should be even higher liability costs. The Obama Administration insists that the $20 billion is not a cap, yet that is how it seems to be viewed by many in the financial markets, which reacted to the announcement with a degree of relief.

Obama is so eager for a win that he may have left money on the table. The fact that BP agreed to the $20 billion figure without much of a fight suggests that he could have gotten more. Another drawback: keeping the amount within BP’s comfort zone allowed the company to appear to be noble in cooperating, when it would have been preferable to see it squealing about an “unreasonable” demand. BP should be feeling more pain.

I also worry that BP’s acquiescence might cause the feds to go easier on the company in the criminal investigation of the gulf disaster. BP is already on probation in connection with criminal charges stemming from its previous recklessness in Alaska and at its Texas City refinery. Another conviction should get it debarred from receiving new drilling licenses or contracts from the federal government, and it would pave the way to huge payouts in the inevitable civil litigation.

The $20 billion deal is also less than fully satisfying because it applies to BP alone. The current mess in the gulf may be the doing of BP (and perhaps Transocean and Halliburton), but the Congressional testimony just given by top executives raises new concerns about other deepwater wells.

Corporate solidarity fell by the wayside as the big shots from Exxon Mobil, Chevron, Shell and ConocoPhillips distanced themselves from BP. Rex Tillerson of Exxon Mobil was especially blunt about BP’s screw-ups, seeking perhaps to drive down the company’s stock price further and facilitate a rumored takeover bid.

Yet what was even more amazing was the admission by the executives that, four decades after the 1969 Santa Barbara accident that demonstrated the risks of offshore drilling, their companies are still not in a position to handle such occurrences. “We are not well-equipped to deal with them,” Tillerson said matter-of-factly. “There will be damage.” This came on top of revelations by the House Energy and Commerce Committee that the spill response plans of the oil majors were cookie-cutter documents with outdated and irrelevant information.

All this is a far cry from the rosy scenarios and confident assurances that the industry has been peddling to the public for decades and selling to gullible (or indifferent) federal regulators. Here was the chief executive of the world’s largest oil corporation in effect admitting that it is helpless when something big goes wrong at one of its wells beneath the sea.

As satisfying as is to beat up on BP for the current catastrophe, the culpability extends to the entire industry. None of the oil giants took safety seriously, and by all rights they should all be digging into their corporate pockets to clean up the mess and compensate the people of the Gulf Coast.

One hundred billion dollars: that has a better ring to it.

Would a Defunct BP Make Good On Its Liabilities?

The BP deathwatch has begun. It’s not trial lawyers or environmental activists who pose an immediate threat to the continued existence of the oil giant, but rather the market. BP’s stock price is down about 50 percent since the beginning of the Gulf of Mexico disaster — a loss of more than $80 billion in capitalization — and there is rising speculation about a takeover by another petroleum behemoth such as Shell or Exxon Mobil.

The demise of a company with a track record as sullied as that of BP is no cause for mourning, but there is a serious risk that its dismantling would be done in a way that limits the resources available for cleanup and compensation in the gulf. Mainstream analysts such as those at Credit Suisse now estimate the company’s total liability at more than $35 billion. As the damaged underwater well continues to spew oil — and more indications of BP’s negligence come to light — the final dimensions of the financial blowout are likely to be much larger. BP’s current or future owners are not likely to part with that kind of money without a fight.

One maneuver they might consider is to break up the company. The New York Times is reporting that investment bankers are already working on scenarios in which BP would submit a prepackaged bankruptcy filing and split off a separate entity that would be saddled with the liabilities and given limited assets to make good on them.

Such attempts to shield assets from massive environmental liabilities are not unprecedented. In the 1980s Johns-Manville, the world’s leading producer of asbestos, restructured itself, changed its name, and then filed for bankruptcy in the face of more than 16,000 lawsuits brought by victims of asbestos disease. Mining company Asarco was accused of using a 2005 Chapter 11 filing to reduce its financial responsibility for cleaning up nearly 100 Superfund toxic waste sites.

There are also troublesome precedents that don’t involve bankruptcy filings. After taking over Union Carbide, the company responsible for the 1984 industrial accident in Bhopal, India that killed thousands, Dow Chemical disavowed any liability. After being hit with $5 billion in punitive damages in connection with the Exxon Valdez oil spill, Exxon resisted paying for more than a decade and was finally rewarded when the U.S. Supreme Court slashed the judgment.

What, then, needs to be done to prevent BP from evading its full obligations related to the present disaster? The ideal course of action would be for the federal government to seize enough of the company’s assets in the United States to cover its expected obligations. This is what the Seize BP movement is already demanding.

Such an aggressive action would probably run afoul of Supreme Court rulings such as the 1952 decision regarding President Truman’s seizure of steel mills during a strike by steelworkers. On the other hand, the government could use the fact that BP is on probation in connection with criminal charges relating to workplace safety and environmental violations in Texas and Alaska to justify a seizure. The likelihood that BP has violated laws in connection with the gulf disaster is quite high, meaning that it is technically in violation of its probation. A seizure of its property would be the equivalent of arresting an individual who violates probation.

Another alternative would be not to seize assets but to force the company to pledge enough of them to cover likely liabilities. If BP was later unable or unwilling to pay what the courts or government agencies mandate — a possibility that is more likely in light of the fact that the company is self-insured — those assets could then be taken.

It turns out that BP and other companies drilling for oil on U.S. public lands or offshore already have to make a commitment of the sort by posting bonds with the Interior Department. The bonds are meant to cover reclamation of the site after the drilling is completed; i.e., returning it to some approximation of its original condition, which in the case of offshore wells includes the removal of the drilling platform. According to a GAO report published earlier this year, the bond requirements are quite low and in some cases have not changed in decades. A company such as BP is required to post only $3 million for all of its drilling activities in the Gulf of Mexico.

The Oil Pollution Act of 1990 also requires that companies provide proof — whether in the form of insurance coverage or a bond — that they can meet their financial obligations relating to a spill, but as has been widely discussed, the liability limits mandated by the act are grossly inadequate.

The current catastrophe in the gulf demonstrates that the potential liabilities from an offshore drilling accident, especially the deepwater variety, are enormous. At the very least, the federal government should vastly increase the bonding requirements — or other ways of reserving assets — beginning immediately and including BP. Knowing that a substantial portion of their resources are immediately at risk might make oil companies think twice about employing reckless drilling practices.

BP’s Partner in Crime

The liability costs stemming from the ongoing environmental disaster in the Gulf of Mexico are likely to be in the tens of billions of dollars. BP, of course, will bear the brunt of those costs, but other deep pockets should not be ignored. Transocean, the owner of the rig where the initial explosion occurred, and Halliburton, which was supposed to seal the well with concrete, will both be targeted.

But we shouldn’t forget that BP is not the sole owner of the underground well, known as Macondo, that continues to spew large quantities of crude oil into the sea. The biggest minority holder, with a 25 percent share, is Anadarko Petroleum, which is a major offshore driller in its own right and has ties to major controversies in the energy industry. The company is worth a closer look.

Anadarko was formed in 1959 as a subsidiary of Panhandle Eastern Pipe Line Company, which used the entity to get around Federal Power Commission limitations on the price it could charge on natural gas produced from properties it owned in the Anadarko Basin in Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas. Anadarko got involved in offshore exploration in 1970. Among its early project partners was Amoco, which would later (1998) be acquired by BP.

By the 1990s Anadarko was a major player in the Gulf of Mexico. During the following decade the company became better known (and much larger) after acquiring Union Pacific Resources and then Kerr-McGee, which had pioneered offshore petroleum exploration in the late 1940s. The latter acquisition, in particular, saddled Anadarko with a dubious legacy.

In the 1970s Kerr-McGee was embroiled in a scandal over accusations of serious safety violations and falsification of records at its nuclear fuel plant in Oklahoma. The controversy escalated after the whistleblower in the case, technician and union activist Karen Silkwood, died under suspicious circumstances in 1974. Silkwood’s family sued the company for causing her to be contaminated with plutonium. In 1986 Kerr-McGee paid $1.38 million to settle the case after a jury award of $10.5 million had been overturned on appeal.

Two decades later, Kerr-McGee mounted a court battle to prevent the federal government’s Minerals Management Service from restoring royalty rates paid by offshore drillers to reasonable rates after they had been reduced by Congress when energy prices were low in the mid-1990s. The case, which was resolved after Anadarko completed its acquisition of Kerr-McGee, could cost U.S. taxpayers, according to a Government Accountability Office estimate, more than $50 billion.

While Kerr-McGee was pursuing its case it was also defending itself against a whistleblower suit charging that the company had cheated the federal government out of millions of dollars in offshore drilling royalties by underreporting its output. In January 2007 a federal jury found the company guilty, but the judge in the case later overturned the verdict on a technicality.

Anadarko’s own record is not unblemished. Last year it and two related companies paid $1.05 million in civil penalties and agreed to spend $8 million in remedial actions to resolve charges that they violated the Clean Water Act by discharging harmful quantities of oil from a production facility in Wyoming. Two years earlier the company was fined $157,500 by the EPA for destroying wetlands in southwest Wyoming. Anadarko is also heavily involved in natural gas drilling in the Marcellus Shale in the northeastern United States, which is viewed as a serious threat to drinking water supplies. Its joint venture partner in the shale operations is Mitsui, which is also the third partner (with a 10 percent stake) in the Macondo well.

Anadarko does not appear to have had any role in operational decisions at that ill-fated Macondo well, but the company is separately involved in its own deepwater drilling activities in the Gulf of Mexico that were temporarily shut down as a result of the moratorium announced by President Obama. While BP rightfully remains the primary target of legal and other responses to the gulf disaster, Anadarko – both by virtue of its ownership interest in Macondo and its own risky drilling – also deserves to feel some of that pain.