Meals From The Marketplace

            We asked the old lady why she didn’t kill any of the many flies that were constantly evident in her kitchen.

            “Boys,” she said, “if I kill one of them, ten more show up at its funeral.”

             President Obama did the right thing in firing (aka accepting the General’s resignation) Stanley McChrystal after the Rolling Stone article came out.  Had he allowed McChrystal to remain in command in Afghanistan, Obama would have lost the respect of the military’s rank and file (as well as its officer corps). 

             Anyone who has served in uniform (full disclosure: I did four years in the Air Force) knows that you don’t sound off like McChrystal did (or allow your staff to do so, as he also did) and expect to maintain your command status.  If Obama had left McChrystal in place, he would have been disregarded and disrespected, if not out-right disobeyed, for his remaining time as commander-in-chief.

             What is puzzling about the whole affair is not what McChrystal was thinking.  He’s now yesterday’s news, and no one (other than a few boring historians) will care about him a year from now.  (This was not a Harry Truman-Douglas MacArthur battle of wills, no matter what the talking heads are currently saying.)

             What is puzzling is why Obama insists he will continue the policy McChrystal was apparently so frustrated with.  It was a bad policy when Obama decided on it, and it is certainly looking no better now; in fact, it’s looking considerably worse.

             Just to review a little of the background, let’s recall that Obama ran for office as a quasi-dove/quasi-hawk, claiming to have always opposed the war in Iraq while asserting that the real battle had to be in Afghanistan.  The liberal wing of his party heard only his position on Iraq, even though he was equally vocal (and condemnatory of his predecessor) regarding his views on Afghanistan.

             And sure enough, on taking office, he quickly announced a plan to withdraw all combat forces from Iraq (essentially adopting the Bush plan) by this September.  That plan is still in effect.  (At least it hasn’t been publicly repudiated.) 

             But Afghanistan was more perplexing for Obama, and he took the better part of his first year in office to come up with a plan.  He was said to have considered all suggested options (presumably even including complete withdrawal) before settling on the counter-insurgency surge that is currently in place.

             The plan/policy that he remains completely committed to is to build up the political and military infrastructure of Afghanistan so that it can take on the primary responsibility of quelling the Taliban threat and keeping al Qaeda out of the country.  McChrystal was chosen to lead the way because he was considered the very best the uniformed forces had available at counter-insurgency warfare.  And he even got almost all of what he asked for, netting 30 thousand more combat troops (he asked for 40). 

             And yet, a little over six months into the mission, McChrystal was apparently despondent enough about the prospects for success to tell (and let his staff augment the telling) of his complete disregard for the president and his military advisors.

             He had good reason to be despondent.  Afghanistan is currently “ruled” by a corrupt president (Hamid Karzai) who one day says he would welcome the Taliban back and on another sounds not all that supportive of the U.S. policy that is keeping him in power.

             Except that he has very little power to start with, since the country is largely controlled by local warlords and strongmen who engage in illegal drug sales (opium, mostly) and otherwise deal with whoever or whatever makes them richer.

             In other words, Afghanistan is ungoverned and ungovernable.  Karzai controls Kabul, courtesy of the United States military, and the rest of the country goes its own way.

             Think about this fact for a moment: Afghanistan has a total annual GNP of around $14 billion.  The United States is pouring $100 billion a year into it, and has been for nine years now.  What do we have to show for our money?  Indeed, what do the Afghans have to show for it?  True, they aren’t under Taliban rule, but won’t they be again whenever we leave?

             The original reasons for going to war in Afghanistan have long since faded into obscurity.  Then, it was because the Taliban government had given safe haven to Osama bin Laden and his al Qaeda organization.  Here’s a news flash: we won that war.  The Taliban was defeated in short order and al Qaeda, no longer feeling welcome, fled the scene, only to relocate in anarchic Pakistan and other safe havens in the region.

             So, why are we still there?  Presumably, Obama has intelligence to the effect that a reinvigorated Taliban in Afghanistan would again provide a safe haven for al Qaeda, thereby posing a threat to the U.S. homeland and to its interests (i.e., oil) in the region.

             But so what?  Isn’t the same potential scenario brewing in Pakistan? 

             And then there is the impact of the entire U.S. military effort in that part of the world.  Case in point: the recent guilty plea entered in New York’s criminal courts by one Faisal Shahzad, the Times Square bomber.  Mr. Shahzad, in a remarkable courtroom confession, took complete responsibility for his failed attempt.  He was motivated entirely by the U.S. military’s presence and actions in the Muslim world.

             This man was not an al Qaeda terrorist.  He was a recently naturalized American citizen who had become infuriated by the killing of innocent Muslims by drone missile attacks and by the kind of military assaults that claim innocent lives in every war.  It just so happens that in Iraq and Afghanistan, those innocent lives tend to be Muslims.

             And so we have the flies in the kitchen scenario.  We kill one and we create ten more.  Terrorists are not born; they are made.  We’re making a bunch of them.

            Get out of Afghanistan, Mr. President.  Right now, you’re looking a lot more like Lyndon Johnson than you probably want to.

“Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.”                                           -Kris Kristofferson, “Me and Bobby McGee”

           In Norman Jewison’s 1975 film, “Rollerball,” political governments around the world have been replaced by corporations.  Wars are a thing of the past, as are political campaigns, political corruption and political positions.  The world is highly sanitized with the masses kept content with the corporate products that they purchase and consume.  Competition may exist between corporations, but only to the extent that the overall economy is not disrupted thereby.  Some of this competition, we are led to believe, may be deemed desirable to foster improvement in the products that are provided to the masses for consumption.  Some of it, however, is clearly just for appearances, with the ultra-violent sport of rollerball providing the ultimate appearance of competition. 

             In truth, the game is as controlled as everything else in the utopian world the corporations have created.  Everyone is part of a grand master plan, devised and implemented by the mega-corporations and pronounced by their designated leader (John Houseman in a post-“Paper Chase” role).

             The movie didn’t dwell on these details, which was a weakness, since, instead of exploring a harrowing vision that might have been akin to a futuristic “1984,” the plot involved the battle of one individual (James Caan, the star player on the best team in the rollerball sport) to reject the corporate dictates for his career and his life. 

             A similar theme, presented in a decidedly more humorous light, was evident in Sidney Lumet’s 1976 film, “Network” (from an Oscar-winning screenplay by Paddy Chayefsky), wherein the corporate powers of television news first create and then kill an anchorman who stirred the masses with the enraged cry, “I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not gonna take this anymore.”

             The anchorman, Howard Beale (Peter Finch in an Oscar-winning role), expressed the frustration of the masses for the lack of control they felt in their daily lives.  Beale was permitted by the corporate bosses to be a hero until he threatened the corporate image by becoming bigger than the corporation.  At that point, he was confronted by the CEO (Ned Beatty in an Oscar-nominated role) of the corporate empire that Beale’s network was part of. 

             In this classic scene, Beatty, in God-like tones in the darkened corporate board room, bellows that Beale has “meddled with the primal forces of nature.”  He goes on in his rant to tell Beale that, “There is no democracy; there is no America.  There is only” … and then he proceeds to list the mega-corporations that really do rule the world.

            These films were far more prescient than we may well have realized at the time.  The world of the mid-1970’s (or at least America’s version of it) was completely consumed with the post-Viet Nam, post-Watergate sense of confusion and malaise that flowed from the realization that, yes, we could lose a major war and, yes, our presidents could well be crooks.

            We were adrift as a nation, and the rise of corporate power may have been more escapist fantasy than futuristic horror.  Thus, “Rollerball” was dismissed as a James Caan (at his height of popularity following “The Godfather”) vehicle and an action thriller, while “Network” was seen as a black comedy that struck at the rigidity of pre-cable network newscasts, rather than a foreboding hint of what unbridled corporate power could easily become.

            In the three and a half decades that have passed since the release of those films, corporate America has come far closer to the reality depicted by Ned Beatty’s impassioned speech in “Network” than many of us are prepared to accept.  But the evidence is all around us, and it isn’t hard to see what is happening.

            Consider how much the world has changed in those 35 years.  The capitalist model no longer is identified by the “mom and pop” enterprise.  That kind of entrepreneurship was still ubiquitous then; it’s all too rare now.  Instead, we have big chains and cookie-cutter franchises fighting to survive the assaults of even bigger corporate behemoths.

            Our diets are now largely controlled by the giant food producers and distributors, as films like “Food, Inc.” and “Fast Food Nation” so vividly depict.  Our energy sources are controlled by the big oil companies and their coal counterparts, as “Who Killed the Electric Car?” (another compelling documentary) makes clear.

            And to the extent our politicians would otherwise be our watchdogs, they are either bought off by the corporate powers or are so wrapped up in ideological sophistry that they are incapable of taking up the Howard Beale cry.  (The Tea Party movement is, in this respect, completely misguided, as it is fighting against anti-corporate populism, even as it claims to be a populist movement.)

            We’re not talking about the corporations of “The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit” anymore.  That book (by Sloan Wilson, made into a popular 1956 film starring Gregory Peck) focused on the ethical questions a corporate employee faces in climbing the ladder to success.  That kind of corporation – a simple business run by a single individual (Fredric March in the film) – is as much a dinosaur in today’s world as the old mom and pop stores are. 

            In today’s mega-corporations, individual ethical questions aren’t even worth discussing.  Indeed, individuals are almost irrelevant in the giant corporations that control much of the America of 2010.  The inefficiencies of government bureaucracy are no less present in the corporate bureaucracies of our new millennium.  How else can the BP disaster be explained?  No one individual was responsible for it, because no one individual is responsible for anything in that kind of operation.

            Seen in this light, the Supreme Court decision earlier this year (in the Citizens United case) becomes much more ominous.  By stating unequivocally that corporations have the same rights (to engage in political speech) as those of us who are composed of real flesh and blood, the majority of the Court is creating a path to corporate control of our society that brings the specter of “Rollerball” much closer to reality. 

            Think about it.

            It’s time to start connecting some dots in the BP oil spill.  Now, over eight weeks since the explosion that destroyed the Deepwater Horizon well, facts are starting to surface (albeit not nearly as fast as the oil) that constitute evidence, admittedly some of it circumstantial, of significant deficiencies by both corporate and governmental entities.

             And while apologists for all the parties are still using the classic defensive tactics of pointing fingers at others and decrying the rush to judgment, some conclusions are becoming inescapable.

             But first the evidence:

             In May of 2000, federal regulators warned of exactly the kind of disaster that occurred earlier this year.  The report was prepared by the Mineral Management Service of the Interior Department (the same agency that has been the subject of intense criticism in the wake of the BP catastrophe).  It warned of extensive ecological damage resulting from a fire on a drilling rig that could lead to gushing oil from a damaged well.

             The report, prepared in the last year of the Clinton administration, was essentially ignored a year later when then-president George W. Bush (less than four months into his first term) issued an executive order that pushed all federal agencies to expedite the issuance of licenses for “energy development.”

             Here, in pertinent detail, is the text of the Bush executive order:

 “a) Agencies shall expedite their review of permits or take other actions as necessary to accelerate the completion of such projects, while maintaining safety, public health, and environmental protections.  The agencies shall take such actions to the extent permitted by law and regulation, where appropriate.

 “b) The increased production and transmission of energy in a safe and environmentally sound manner is essential to the well-being of the American people.  In general, it is the policy of this Administration that executive departments and agencies (agencies) shall take appropriate actions, to the extent consistent with applicable law, to expedite projects that will increase the production, transmission, or conservation of energy.”

             It seems, on its face, to be innocuous enough, except for the implicit message that would be understood by those agency heads who received it.  And that message was, to use the slogan that became ubiquitous more recently, “Drill, baby, drill!”

             Consider why such an executive order would have been issued.  Would it have been necessary if federal policy before its issuance had encouraged federal agencies to approve deep sea drilling?  Certainly not.  In fact, deep sea oil drilling in the Gulf had been rare before Bush took office.  Would it have been necessary to instill restraint on the issuance of deep sea drilling licenses?  Clearly not, as the previous answer indicates.

             No, the executive order that Bush issued, carefully worded though it was, was directive enough for those in charge of the agencies that permitted the oil industry (BP most definitely included) to drill the wells in the Gulf, one of which has now failed in catastrophic fashion. 

             And so, in the years of the Bush administration, deep sea oil drilling in the Gulf of Mexico exploded (pardon the pun), with hundreds of wells now in place.  And only one of them has failed, leading some to claim the failure was “just an accident.”  But definitions are important, and the definition of “accident” becomes critically important when trying to gain an understanding of the lessons to be learned from the BP disaster.

             In legal parlance, the word “accident” connotes an event to which no human blame can be attached.  These are events that, for all intents and purposes, are unavoidable.  In that context, the BP oil spill is hardly an accident. 

             Others have said that it resulted from negligence of some kind by the company.  In the law, we recognize such occurrences with the Latin phrase, “res ipsa loquitur,” meaning “the thing speaks for itself,” or, in other words, such things don’t happen in the absence of negligence.

             But negligence in human affairs can be classified by degree of culpability, and simple negligence, the cause of most rear-end automotive collisions (a driver momentarily diverted his/her attention from the task at hand), is clearly not an appropriate way to understand what happened in the BP disaster.

             As has been reported (see my column, “What We Should Learn from the Gulf Oil Spill,” dated June 4) and is now the basis of an investigation by the Attorney General, BP deliberately cut corners in choosing a less expensive and less safe casing for the Deepwater Horizon well.  Additionally, it chose to proceed with the drilling of the well despite having been concerned as long as eleven months earlier about the well casing and blowout preventer at the site.

             Proceeding in any event, and cutting corners along the way, is not simple negligence.  In the law, we recognize an ever-increasing spectrum of irresponsibility that results in culpability of one type or another.  Simple negligence leads to recovery by the injured party for actual damages suffered. 

             Gross negligence can, in some instances, allow for the recovery of punitive damages (payment intended to punish the negligent party rather than compensate the injured one).  Criminal negligence can lead to criminal charges.  And recklessness, when death has resulted (and let’s remember that eleven workers were killed in this incident), can be the basis for a charge of murder.

             So, how culpable was BP?  Here, we do need to wait for more facts.  But we can still connect some dots, and in so doing, we can discern some conclusions that, while not pleasant, still need to be appreciated.

            1.  The risk of an ecological disaster was known by both the oil industry and the federal regulators well in advance of the BP disaster.

            2.  The federal government ignored that risk in greatly accelerating the development of deep sea oil wells during the administration of George W. Bush.

            3.  The lack of effective regulatory oversight by the Obama administration allowed BP to cut corners in the start-up of the Deepwater Horizon well.

             These are the conclusions that are irrefutable at this point, the cries from apologists for all culpable parties notwithstanding.

            The Deepwater Horizon blowout, as the BP oil spill disaster has come to be known, may well turn out to be some kind of an environmental Armageddon before its flow of oil runs its course, deep in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico.  Long before that point, however, even now, as a matter of fact, it has become a rallying point for political debate over whether the fault for this catastrophe lies with private industry or the government.

             That debate is easily resolved if the evidence is traced to its inescapable conclusion.

             First the evidence:

             Corporate records made available to Congressional investigators reveal that several days before the explosion, BP officials chose, partly for financial reasons, to use a type of casing for the well that the company knew was the riskier of two available options.  As a result of this decision, instead of two barriers to seal gases that might (and did) escape all the way to the wellhead, only one was in place.

             Other internal BP documents released last week also indicate that the company was concerned eleven months ago about the well casing and the blowout preventer at the site.  These documents show that as recently as March, BP was struggling with a loss of “well control.”

             The decision to go with the more risky form of well casing came in the face of the long-standing concerns and the current struggles.

             A BP spokesman, in a weak attempt to defend the decision, said that there was no “industry standard” for the casing in deepwater drills and that the casing used in this particular well was “not unusual.” 

             But, as Congressional testimony by corporate employees revealed last week, the decision was contested internally.  One employee admitted that he witnessed a “skirmish” between a BP well-site leader and crew members.  The leader reportedly ended the disagreement by saying, “Well, this is how it’s gonna be.” 

             Additional evidence released last week reveals that BP was extremely anxious to get the well operational.  Again, money was the principal concern.  By the day of the explosion, a 43-day delay had cost the company more than $21 million (based on lease charges for the rig at the well site of $533,000 per day).

             The Congressional investigation is also discovering that government oversight of the project was less than aggressive.  The principal reason for this laxity may be the personnel assigned the responsibility.

             The key personnel in the Minerals Management Service (MMS) that has primary government oversight of off-shore oil drilling operations had been largely staffed by former corporate employees.  The Obama administration, under oil-industry-friendly Interior Secretary Ken Salazar, had kept most of those employees in place after the change in administrations (from Bush to Obama).  Indeed, MMS director Elizabeth Birnbaum was fired this past week because she had not cleaned house sufficiently, leaving many oil company cronies in charge of the oversight of the companies they used to work for.

             So, what does this body of evidence indicate?  Let’s start by stating what it clearly does not indicate.

             It does not indicate that the way to avoid catastrophes like the one now spewing forth in the Gulf is to de-regulate the industry or to reduce significantly the amount of government oversight in the operations of the industry.

             It also does not indicate that more government regulation and oversight of the work of the industry will inevitably lead to more “accidents” like the one currently playing itself out in the Gulf.

             And it does not indicate that placing former industry executives and high-ranking management types in government oversight/regulatory roles promotes better oversight and regulation of the industry.

             Of course, you don’t need an advanced degree in rhetoric or business administration or political science to come to those conclusions, although each of them have been argued in true sophistic fashion by right-wing talk show hosts and, in some instances, even by elected politicians.

             So let’s be clear: The current disaster was not caused by the federal government.  It was caused by an industry that has used its influence to create soft regulatory requirements, that has filled many of the regulatory positions with former employees, and that has been left, by and large, to make its own decisions on how to proceed in drilling for oil.

             And let’s also be clear: To the extent that the federal government has not been active enough in rescuing the industry from its own misfeasance and incompetence, the problem is not too much distinction between the regulators and the regulated, but too little.

             Many on the right are rallying around the idea that this disaster is Obama’s Katrina.  If properly understood, the evidence completely belies that argument.  Katrina was a natural disaster that had no private industry component.  It was a situation that was wholly and completely the responsibility of government (federal, state and local) to deal with. 

             The current disaster in the Gulf is completely the result of industry activity.  While the exact panoply of causes remains to be discerned, no one can argue that this “accident” was a natural occurrence.  It was caused by the actions of private industry.  Thus, it is private industry that must be responsible for repairing it.  If government had a role in the creation of the disaster, it was in the failure of regulatory oversight.  And if government has failed in the process of containment, it is not because that role was assigned to it before the fact. 

             What might a more aggressive posture by the Obama administration have been?  Would it have been proper to remove BP from the containment process?  How would such a step indicate anything other than a failure of unrestrained corporate power?  Some have even suggested that BP should have been “nationalized” by some unclear and unspecified presidential prerogative.  How loud would the cries of “socialism” have been had Obama taken such an action?

             No, those claims just don’t hold water.  The evidence is clear and points to only one conclusion: The disaster in the gulf is an indictment of deregulated corporate activity when the public welfare is at stake.