*
What else remains from these days of conversations? I was very struck by how strongly several of the interviewees emphasised their moral and religious principles – maybe in some way wanting to use these as a cloak to protect themselves from my (unspoken, but still detectable) scepticism about their desire to work in a business as dubious as the oil industry. But perhaps this is too cynical of me. There may also have been quite genuine religious and ethical impulses in the backgrounds of these people. Though, if this is the case, then I really cannot understand how it was possible for them to justify their actions – for instance, in staying on at Shell, helping to defend the company, even after the Saro-Wiwa and Ogoni executions.
There were other threads in common, aspects that were shared between the people we interviewed. The same argument was used to try and explain why Shell stayed in South Africa during apartheid, from two different ex-Shell employees. This made me sense that there had been a co-ordinated internal company ‘line’ issued to all employees. Incidentally, it’s fascinating to look at the language both Anna and David used – making the oil company sound more like a provider of local social services rather than a profit-making business:
Anna: I believe Shell was a force for good within that society, and Nelson Mandela said, after his release, that he was glad Shell stayed and that, erm, Shell had been instrumental in, erm, challenging the government on black housing, and providing black housing, which was technically illegal at the time, and they were able to get the law changed to allow Shell to provide black housing, and the standards by which Shell upheld during that period and respect for human rights and diversity, erm, I felt was a beacon in a very bleak period, where other companies were cutting and running. But Shell said, no, if we make a commitment to a country, then we’re in for the long term; we’re not just in for a smash and grab on what we can get and how much money and get away. And we don’t make a commitment to the government of the day, we make it to the people of the country … So, my feeling about Shell’s performance in South Africa was one of pride and admiration, erm, that they were showing leadership.
David: I think one of the things that was not appreciated is that, erm – erm … we were actually encouraged to remain in South Africa. Erm, we also created educational foundations for many ANC members. Our general manager in South Africa used to place adverts in the newspapers constantly about anti-apartheid … The feeling was that, erm, remaining there, and trying to, erm, actually influence the thinking, because, again, people didn’t realise, it was a point, decimal point, you know, it was a 0.0-something percentage of our profits … it’s very interesting, there was this terrible, erm, dilemma, where people at the top of the organisation were really reluctant to remain, but felt that they were the only ones that had the clout to actually be able to speak out without – with most people daring not to. And, you know, our connections with the ANC were actually quite close at the time too, in a positive way … In fact, we let them have our building when they … when they came into … came into power.
Both Anna and David are emphasising the critical role Shell supposedly played in influencing the apartheid-era government and the process of peaceful transition in South Africa – yet both cannot see the gaping contradiction between this position and their argument that Shell could not influence the Nigerian government in the case of the executions of Ken Saro-Wiwa and his colleagues. They repeatedly said they could not be seen to be ‘interfering’ in Nigerian politics, and sought to minimise the power Shell have in Nigeria, saying that ‘we’re in a joint venture in Nigeria, we do not own the majority of the company’. Neither of these senior ex-Shell figures could see the obvious contradiction between these positions. David went further – even seeming to sympathise with the Abacha military regime:
But of course, the Nigerian government’s reaction … was, well, you know, don’t interfere with our policies. But again, with great respect, with great respect, so far as the Nigerian government was concerned, Ken Saro-Wiwa was not being tried for what he was saying about the oil industry, but there were fivefn3 people in [the] Ogoni tribe who were killed, and their view was that he and his henchmen were responsible for those five deaths and that nobody in the world seemed to be in the least bit concerned about these five Ogoni tribesmen who were not agreeing with Mr Saro-Wiwa. So there was … there were their stresses, and of course, I mean, the problem is, if a company like Shell tried to interfere with the UK government in as blatant a fashion, everybody would have their hands up, you know, and they would be up in arms.
But Shell were not alone in doing business with successive Nationalist governments in South Africa. Some years earlier I’d heard John Browne, then CEO of BP, justifying why they too remained in the country during the apartheid years:
BP of course stayed in South Africa during a very tough time during apartheid bringing our own employees to a different level of educational qualification, maximising the number of black people working inside our company.4 This was not wholly popular at the time but it sowed small seeds which in the right environment subsequently grew to enormous trees – some great people were available to populate part of the government – great people were there to populate part of industry.
I think that such language in the twenty-first century is extraordinary. Not just because of the language used, but the ideas behind the language, which seem completely rooted in colonialism. We could almost be listening to Lord Salisbury talking about bringing ‘English civilisation … [to] the dark places of the earth’.5 BP goes to South Africa, they sow ‘small seeds’, the local population are then educated, and one fine day they might be trusted to take over their own country.
The final realisation I had through the process of these interviews concerns the interrelationship between location and moral responsibility. The greater the exposure of employees to the actual sites of oil extraction, the greater the moral scepticism; the greater the amount of time spent working in the UK, at headquarters, the greater the degree of trust in the company. This may be a reason why the higher your position in an oil company rises, the less chance there is that you will be posted to experience the activities of the company at the sites of oil extraction themselves. It’s as if the companies appreciate that it will be far harder for senior management to continue to work effectively if they actually have to meet people directly impacted by their work. It’s much safer to keep any such understanding distanced through the screen of a computer. In this way you do not have to experience, you do not have to look with your own eyes, into the eyes of other human beings whose lives are being devastated by your company’s work.
How People in Organisations Can Kill: A Further Four Factors
Incrementalism
‘Normalisation’ and peer conformity
Language and dehumanisation
Abstractifying victims: from individuals to anonymous masses
Distancing yourself from the act of violence
Transferring personal responsibility to the authority’s responsibility
Compartmentalisation of thought
Workaholism and the ‘narcissism of frenzy’
Prioritisation of abstract systems over the human being