Of course there was an outcry
At so many lives cut short
And the owners faced stern justice
Before the local court.
But really it would never do
To give too great offence.
They found no case to answer
Of wilful negligence.
They were in direct contravention
of the Mines and Quarries Act,
But it was considered impolite
To dwell upon the fact.
Still for such a fatal mischance
A culprit must be found
And so they fined the manager
Five and twenty pounds.
It was a source of comfort
To mother, child or wife,
To find their menfolk valued
At a shilling for each life. (Sengenhydd 1913)
The mine owner was very wealthy, politically connected, and openly disdainful of his critics. He donated large sums to Republican candidates personally, through his company, and via political action committee. He was able to pressure both local and federal officials to get his way. He also contributed to industry groups fighting against environmental regulations and was a vocal critic of global warming, saying that Al Gore "was more dangerous than global warming." When the Sago Mine disaster killed 12 West Virginia miners in 2006, calls went out for new safety regulations, but he lobbied against them, saying that politicians should stay away from his workers. When a roof collapse struck his own mine, he blamed a small earthquake for the deaths.
Sound familiar? That's not information taken from this week's news. The mine operator in question is Bob Murray, the CEO of Murray Energy Company. Murray owns the Crandall Canyon Mine, where six miners and three rescue workers died in 2007.
Yesterday, hope for a miracle deep beneath the mountains of West Virginia was extinguished as the bodies of the last four miners were found. The cause of the explosion that took the lives of 29 men has not yet been determined, but from the nature and strength of the explosion, it seems likely that it involved both a build up of methane and an accumulation of coal dust -- both of which should have been prevented by adequate supervision and implementation of safety regulations.
The CEO of Massey Energy, Don Blankenship, is even more wealthy than Murry. He donates huge amounts to conservative causes, has funded a good chunk of the Tea Party movement in West Virginia, famously spent over $3 million to get a friendly judge elected to the state Supreme Court, and donated another $3 million in an attempt to fund a Republican takeover of the state legislature. Blankenship regularly engages in calling Democratic leaders "the crazies" and has said that any move to regulate pollution is the first step toward communism. Grist named Blankenship the "scariest polluter" in the country.
Now that Blankenship's disregard for safety has cost the lives of 29 men, what should we expect?
Not much. After all, this isn't the first time. In 2006, two West Virginia miners died in a fire at Massey's Alma Number 1 Mine when fire fighting equipment turned out to be non-functional. The company paid out a record $4.2 million in fines, but still turned a record profit. Blankenship personally pocketed an extra $14 million in stock options that year -- not exactly an incentive to change.
Better still, take a look at what happened to Bob Murray who is... still the CEO of Murray Energy, still operating mines across multiple states, and still donating big to conservative candidates (Scott Brown was a recipient of Murray's largess, as were dozens of other candidates since the Crandall Canyon disaster -- all of them Republicans).
Those regulations that were put in after the Sago and Crandall Canyon deaths? Well, the fines were certainly made higher, so it looked like Congress and the Bush administration were getting tough on unsafe operators. But there's a big-enough-to-drive-your-coal-train through hole in the regulations. In order to take severe action against a mine, MSHA must first establish a "pattern of violations" that shows willful disregard for safety. A poorly run mine, like Massey's Upper Big Branch was well within the number needed to establish such a pattern, but the way the regulations are written, appealing a violation essentially takes it off the table. There's no limit to the number of violations that can be appealed, and the process of moving the citations to the next level is not only slow but subject to further appeals. So Massey simply appealed enough violations to keep on doing what it had been doing.
We'll know more details soon enough, as the investigation gets underway. Just as at Crandall Canyon, the company is already pointing at an earthquake as the proximate cause of the disaster. Just as at Crandall Canyon, the idea is laughable (though if Massey wants to press the point that a very small tremor a hundred miles away made their mine unsafe days later, then someone should point out that the only safe time for mining will be never).
Expect lots of noise to be made about miner safety. Expect good operators -- and they do exist, believe me -- to be even more stringent in going beyond the rules to keep their workers safe. Expect the bad operators to go right back to what they have been doing. Expect Republicans to scream "socialism" about any proposal that would stop those operators. Expect Don Blankenship to keep paying them to carry his water.
We've been here often enough that it all seems too familiar.
When news broke last week of a dreadful explosion that killed at least 25 miners and trapped others, the story felt as familiar as it did sad. Families and communities mourned together. Congregations prayed, vigils were held and the dead were buried. Rescuers tried to reach the missing.
...
The Upper Big Branch Mine had been either fully or partly closed 61 times in 2009 and 2010, mostly for health and safety violations, according to the local Charleston Gazette newspaper which got hold of Labor Department documents. In fact, more than 1,300 citations had been issued against the mine in the last five years. Indeed, Massey got two citations for safety violations on the very day of the disaster.
That sounds shocking. But no one familiar with the history of coal mining in West Virginia could be surprised. The mining corporations that dominate the state's economy have a huge say in what happens there. Just look at Don Blankenship, Massey's chief executive. He once spent three million dollars to help get a judge elected to a West Virginia court ruling on a Massey-related case. He also told an ABC news reporter: "If you're going to start taking pictures of me you're liable to get shot." He is a famous union-buster and proudly skeptical of environmentalists. He can afford to pretty much do as he pleases.
If we're lucky, changes will be made to the current system which was designed to make it easy to handcuff MSHA.
The article cited above left out one part of the pattern. We will hear through the next weeks what we always hear in a situation like this. We'll hear that the people of the Appalachians are hard-working people, tough people, people who take pride in their willingness to sacrifice to put food on the table for their families. And all that's true.
It’s true, but all that doesn't matter one damn bit. There is no honor in dying to save a company money. Nothing admirable in keeping a stiff upper lip so others can line their pockets. Anyone who trots out the idea that there's something noble in allowing people to be abused, is part of that abuse. Painting a history of poverty, desperation and death as tradition is indulging in a romantic perversion. It’s poverty, desperation, and death. The right thing to do is fix it, not write another blasted song about it.
Everyone who profited by letting others take the risk for them had a hand in killing those men at Upper Big Branch. So did we, by allowing this to happen again, and again, and again. It’s not enough to scream about stopping people like Blankenship. It’s not even enough to pass tougher regulations. If you want this cycle to quit repeating, you have to attack it where it lives – in lack of opportunity.