“When Giant Cauldrons Explode”

[Note from Christopher:  I grew up in the oil and petrochemical belt along the Upper Texas Coast. We lived right next door to several such industrial plants. So I may have been in Prague, Czech Republic, on March 23, 2005, when the BP oil refinery at Texas City, Texas, exploded, but it caught my attention. Explosions like that are something I grew up thinking about. Because you just never know when they’ll occur. And a disaster of that kind kills people. And usually injures many more. So I put my thoughts to paper and wrote this column, which was published in the Houston Chronicle newspaper on April 24, 2005. It was subsequently reprinted elsewhere, too. I suppose what it has to say resonated with folks.]

 

April 24, 2005

When we were children, we begged our mother to drive down Sarah Jane Road so we could cross the bridge and see the rainbow-colored water. The water—dark red, bright orange, a sulfurous yellow—gushed down a canal from a local refinery and dumped directly into the Neches River. A chemical mist rose from its surface, as did a pungent, nose-wrinkling stench.

Unlike us, my mother was not entranced by this witch’s brew. Like most residents of the Texas Gulf Coast near Louisiana, a region densely teeming with oil refineries and petrochemical plants, she preferred not to think about the dark side of the industry forming the backbone of our local economy—indeed, an entire nation’s economy.

But occasionally it became impossible to avoid, as when a plant blew up. Then the TV news crews arrived, along with newspaper reporters from as far away as New York, to report the number of casualties, corporate safety records, the possible effect on gasoline prices at the pump. The media frenzy would last a week, offering tragic “personal accounts” as corporate fault and innocence was assessed… and then the journalists disappeared, and life returned to normal. Out on Sarah Jane Road, beneath a low, paved bridge in the marsh, the rainbow water flowed on.

These memories recently returned like Hamlet’s ghost when, on March 23, the BP oil refinery at Texas City exploded. The news reached me by radio here in Prague, Czech Republic, within hours. The numbers were duly reported: BP’s largest refinery in the U.S., processing 460,000 barrels of Saudi and Venezuelan crude daily, producing 3 percent of the nation’s gasoline, with 1,800 employees. At least 15 dead, more than a 100 injured. Oil and gasoline prices would probably rise.

But in the community of Texas City, I knew, the story would be different. In the wake of the explosion, after the sirens and helicopters and chaos, each resident would know someone killed, or someone who did, as well as survivors who lost legs, or eyesight, or were burned in the fire—human beings whose lives were now irreparably changed.

And in the local cafes and taverns, there would be discussions about how the disaster occurred after a maintenance “turnaround” performed by a non-union contractor offering the lowest, cost-saving bid. There would be hushed conversations about the lack of safety in the refinery—about corners cut, rules routinely broken, poorly trained contract workers—and the inevitable cover-up from federal regulators in bed with the industry.

And they would be right, of course, though circumspect in saying so too loud, or too publicly. After all, as a condition of employment, company workers have signed a document forbidding them to talk to the media. Their jobs are at stake. Why forfeit one’s livelihood for a cause—strict but “costly” enforcement of industrial safety standards—that every corporate and government official loudly embraces but habitually rationalizes away?

Because it does come down to that, in the end: jobs. The jobs of the refinery workers, the jobs of the corporate executives, the jobs of the regulators, the job of every American who works for an employer where “affordable” energy prices mean economic success or failure in this “new global marketplace”.

So I was not surprised to learn that the BP refinery in Texas City, like BP facilities elsewhere, has a history of safety violations. Nor was I surprised to learn that federal regulators in the Occupational Safety and Health Administration have assessed large fines in the past, then quietly dropped or reduced them later. That’s how the game is played.

And those who work in the refineries and plants along the Texas Gulf Coast know it. For them, it’s an unhappy but accepted fact of life, as inevitable as corporate greed and crooked politicians and the occasional brief media frenzy that follows an industrial catastrophe.

By now, the dead from this latest calamity are buried. The injured are receiving medical care. Industry spokespersons have duly called it “a very serious accident”. Federal regulators are investigating. The media has moved on, having discovered the latest big story.

And down in Texas City, and all along the Gulf Coast where the giant cauldrons cook oil for the nation, residents are returning to an uneasy truce with their economic sustenance. Many are recollecting the good old days “before Reagan” when trained union workers operated the refineries and chemical plants, when union craftsmen maintained them. Some are consulting lawyers.

As for me—faraway here on the banks of the Vltava River in this Central European city—I am remembering the gas flares of my youth, the acrid air, the rainbow-colored water. I am curious if it’s still there. I am wondering if anything changes.

*****

—Christopher

“The Yukon’s Rugged (Liberal) Individualists”

[Note from Christopher:  During the summer of 2004, when I was living in Mexico, I went up to the Yukon Territory in Canada to do a literary reading and provide some coaching to young writers there. I was a guest of the Yukon Arts Centre, directed by Chris Dray, a good friend who now lives in Nicaragua. I prolonged my visit to spend a couple of weeks trekking the pristine Yukon wilderness. I’d kayaked the Yukon River from Whitehorse to Dawson several years before, and driven up the Dempster Highway to the Arctic Circle. This time I settled for camping beside remote unspoiled lakes and watching the black bears forage. Then just before I headed back to Mexico, Canada held a national election. It was instructive to watch. I wrote about the election dynamics for a political journal in the U.S. Here’s the result below.]

 

July 2004

I happened to be in Canada on June 28, the day of national elections. But I might not have known it judging from the headlines I saw and heard the next day while passing through the USA on my way home to Mexico. The gist of the news was, “The Liberal Party has lost power in Canada.”

The implication of those headlines, at least in the USA with its “two-party” political system, was that Canada’s national government was moving to the right. When actually, the elections moved it to the left.

The Liberals, having lost a majority in Parliament, are forming a coalition government with the New Democratic Party (NDP), a left-wing party that calls for higher corporate taxes, supports labor unions, aggressively favors the Kyoto climate-change treaty, and wants to create a government-owned corporation to fund and sell renewable energy sources (as well as build 10,000 wind turbines by 2010).

In short, the NDP pursues democratic socialist policies, and it will move the Liberal-NDP coalition government in that direction. But you wouldn’t know that from the news reports I saw in the USA.

Canadians claim Americans know little to nothing about Canadian politics, and now I see their point. A conversation in the USA about Canada is apt to go like this:

“It sure is a pretty country. Lots of wilderness.”

“A good national health care system, too.”

“Yeah, but it’s going bust. Socialism can’t work.”

Well, we’ll see, because the June 28 election results were a clear statement by Canadians that they don’t want to follow the political and social policies of the USA. Canadians I spoke with said the elections in part were a referendum on the influence they feel from their Big Brother to the south. In particular, the neo-conservative influence of the Bush Administration. In fact, most Canadians, like most Europeans, hope Bush loses in November.

Up to the election, I had spent two weeks in the Yukon Territory, a sprawling wilderness that borders Alaska on its west. It’s a pristine land, the Yukon, despite its boisterous history with the Klondike Gold Rush a century ago, a time described in the writing of Jack London. Companies (and individuals) still mine for gold in the Klondike area, and mining remains the number one private industry in the territory, barely ahead of tourism. But the number one employer there is government.

In a territory larger than California, with mountains, boreal forests, and glacial lakes and rivers to the south, and the tundra to the north where the Arctic Circle passes through, the Yukon supports a total population of about 30,000 people, of which about 20 percent are Native American (called First Nation peoples). Two-thirds of the population live in Whitehorse, the capital. The second largest city, Dawson City, center of the Klondike, has 1,800 residents.

It’s safe to say that most of the people in the Yukon chose to be there. They moved there from Eastern Canada (usually Ontario), the USA, Germany, France, Iceland, even Cuba. Craving wilderness and space, wanting adventure and a greater sense of independence, they found it. Rugged individualists, you might call them. But they also tend to be well-educated. They appreciate the arts. They expect decent health care. And in their relative geographic isolation, they get those things because of government funding: about 70 percent of the territorial economy is subsidized by the national government.

Why? Because for the Yukon to remain part of Canada, you got to have some Canadians there. Or at least folks who now call themselves Canadian. At the same time, a wilderness does not stay a wilderness if you mine it to death, or cut down all its trees for lumber, or plunder its tundra for oil and gas.

So unlike the western Canadians further south in Alberta and Manitoba and Saskatchewan (the base for the Conservative Party is western), Yukoners elected a Liberal to Parliament. Liberals believe government has an essential role in human civilization. As the director of the Yukon Art Centre told me, “If the Conservatives had won, my budget would disappear. They don’t support the arts and cultural programs.”

Still, the mass media in Canada sure acted like they expected a Conservative win. The election would be close, they promised, very close. The night of the election returns, the journalists were breast-beating and soul-searching: “How could we have been so wrong?” Well, mass media is mass media, even in Canada, and a close horse race breeds excitement and suspense, with stronger media revenues being a circumstantial by-product. In this respect, Canada does resemble its southern Big Brother.

But in other important ways, it does not. The civility of its people who serve as airline security personnel, for instance. You know you’re back in the USA when the security personnel act like bullies instead of helpers. (Generally, one senses that Canadians in the service industries are actually trained in service and human relations, unlike their USA counterparts. Or maybe they just get paid better. Or both.)

In any case, the Yukoners I spoke with wanted two results from the national elections, and they got both. First, they wanted to send the Liberal Party a message to get off its butt and produce. “After 11 years in power, they’ve become lazy,” a voter told me.

And second, they wanted a centrist to left-wing government, not a conservative one. “I’d like a minority Liberal government,” the owner of the Dawson Trading Post observed before election day, “but how can you vote in such a way as to guarantee that?”

You can’t, of course. But that’s exactly what Canadians have now. And judging from the residents of the Yukon Territory, who might in fact represent a fair cross-sampling of the Canadian population, that’s exactly what they wanted.

“We wanted some change,” one Yukoner said, “but not from the Conservatives. We aren’t the USA and don’t want to be like the USA. We’re Canadians.”

To which I could only say, “And more power to you, eh?”

*****

—Christopher

“Run, Ralph, Run! No, Ralph, Don’t!”

[Note from Christopher:  The presidential campaign of 2004 seems so long ago, like ancient history. So much has happened since. Most especially the Great Financial Meltdown. Speaking of which, I’d like to note this column below was written four years before that event (just claiming a bit of prescience, thank you). I was living in Mexico then and watching the 2004 campaign for afar, though not too far. And the big question was, “Will Ralph run?” Well, he didn’t. Not that it mattered once the votes were in. But for a while there, the question seemed important. This piece appeared in The Progressive Populist: A Journal from the Heartland, a biweekly political journal based in the U.S.]

 

OR… THE IDEA OF AMERICAN EXCEPTIONALISM

SAN MIGUEL DE ALLENDE, Mexico—2004

It’s a fascinating show, watched from abroad, this “Run, Ralph, Run!” versus “No, Ralph, Don’t Run!” show. Meaning, of course, Ralph Nader and the 2004 presidential race.

The arguments in favor of his running are well known. Neither the Republicans nor the Democrats represent ordinary folks, as both parties are corporate shills. Only Ralph is truly progressive and populist and represents intellectual honesty, decency, and the placement of humanitarian and ecological values over money.

The arguments against his running also are well known: George W. Bush is now president only because Ralph threw the election his way (for easy stealing) by cadging Gore votes in 2000. We don’t want, and cannot bear, a repeat in 2004.

Idealists, along with those cynical Republicans, urge Ralph to run. Pragmatists urge him not to. Both sides indulge in debates about the two-party system, its rights and wrongs, and the necessity and efficacy of a (hypothetical) multi-party system.

And that debate, viewed from afar, is what is fascinating to me, even laughable. Folks, electoral politics in the USA is a two-party system. That’s not going to change in the foreseeable future, and there’s a reason for it. That reason concerns the American Empire.

First, a little history regarding “the Idea of America,” meaning democracy, equality, freedom of expression, and so forth, which many Americans tend to believe are all unique to the USA. No kidding, every time I visit the States, folks there start telling me how those things exist in the USA but no where else. “You should get a passport and buy a plane ticket,” I tell them. “Get out a little.”

These same untraveled folks (along with some well-traveled ones) overrate how much “the Idea of America” is what caused the USA to become so powerful a presence on the planet in terms of political, economic and cultural influence, i.e. to become the Empire. It ain’t. It’s part of the equation, but only part.

What created the dominance of the USA on this planet is a coalescence of (1) abundant natural resources, (2) that curious American trait called “hustle,” aka “get-up-and-go,” aka “you, too, can be successful or rich or famous,” and (3) the values promoted by “the Idea of America” (see above).

Also, timing. Which is everything.

This coalescence of several essential factors was not planned; it occurred when it did simply because that’s the way history unfolded, but the consequences have been tremendous.

That the North American continent has enjoyed an abundance of natural resources is self-evident. That European immigrants came along to steal or buy them at a propitious time in the development of an industrial (and commercial) revolution also is self-evident.

It’s further self-evident to anyone who’s traveled much that traditional societies aren’t open and flexible enough to permit the kind of social and economic mobility that allowed the “hustle” trait to officially and legally flourish in the USA. This is true not only in still-developing countries, but also in Western Europe, where the Enlightenment ideas—what became “the Idea of America”—began.

American “hustle” combined with abundant natural resources and the legal freedoms to exploit them created an historic opportunity: the USA was in a prime position to develop wealth and then use it to corner the markets of the world, which it did. And which it still does, very energetically. With muscle. That’s why it is an Empire.

And empires don’t need no steenkin’ three-party electoral system, thank you, because it only gets in the way. Whoever heard of an empire with multiple political parties? Competing factions maybe. But not parties.

Empires really don’t even want a two-party system, which is why the USA essentially has a one-party system with two wings, Democrats and Republicans. On the bottom line, both are married to the idea of America as Empire.

Thinking folks know this, and it creates an almost irresistible impulse to urge Ralph to run. It’s an emotional impulse, and understandable. But in rational terms, it is dumb. After all, Ralph opposes America as Empire, and that is a big no-no across the entire conventional political spectrum.

Destroy the Empire and you destroy the American Way of Life—the freedom to bust ass for a dollar—the relative success of which is fundamentally based on consumer debt and cheap energy (especially gasoline for vehicles). You may not think it’s cheap, but it is compared to fuel costs everywhere else, including even Mexico (about $2.50 a gallon here). And let’s face it, even liberals and progressives and populists, by and large, prefer cheap gasoline. Because, you know, all that debt makes us tight.

No, Ralph cannot be elected. And we know it. All Ralph can do is throw the election to the more conservative wing of the Empire’s double-winged party. Meaning the Republicans.

Despite the upcoming furor of the campaigns, when the Democrats and Republicans will make a big show of exaggerating their differences, be sure to remember: The main difference between the two wings, Democrat and Republican, has to do with domestic social policy, issues like civil rights and abortion rights and gay rights, maybe even environmental rights (within limits). But not foreign policy. Not Empire rights. Not really. Oh, maybe a little here and there, a matter of style. But when nip comes to tuck… when the multinational money’s on the table… a Democrat and a Republican both wave a flag and grab it.

So, my friends, if you want to see a difference in domestic policies in the USA, then urge Ralph not to run. And vote for Kerry.

If the domestic scene isn’t important to you, then urge Ralph to run and vote for him. It simply ain’t gonna make that much difference in the foreign policies of the Empire whether the election goes to Bush or Kerry.

It ain’t pretty, being an Empire. But that’s what we are. At least for now.

*****

—Christopher