New Mexico Mercury

We differentiate between human-made disasters and those caused by nature. I believe this is a false, and ultimately misleading, distinction.

If a building housing sweatshops collapses in Savar, Bangladesh, killing more than a thousand workers, we assess blame to the architect who approved the plans (undoubtedly for monetary gain), a government that cannot establish building codes or, if it has them, refuses to enforce them (plenty of kickbacks there as well). We can blame the clothing brands in the US and other Western countries, which reap exaggerated profit and have never been serious about improving the facilities where their clothing is made. Real concern would only add to their overhead. Concerned citizens, sick and tired of trying to get those multi-billion-dollar companies to take responsibility, can even reproach the individuals who purchase the clothes. There’s plenty of blame to go around.

Similarly, when a mine tunnel caves in, we blame the mining conglomerate that year after year refused to deal with complaints about unsafe conditions and a lack of safety precautions. Sometimes such disasters provide an opportunity for the very people at fault to garner some good publicity through a series of heroic actions.

Such was the case, at least for a while, when on August 5th, 2010 a tunnel caved in 1,100 feet below ground at the San José copper and gold mine on the Chilean altiplano at Copiapó. Thirty-three men were trapped inside. For 17 days no one on the surface knew if the men were still alive. Then a rescue detail heard a faint tapping down below, and a note with the words “33 alive” made its way to the surface. As tension mounted, a second tunnel collapsed. Engineers in other parts of the world put their creativity to the test, and one came up with a way of digging a borehole to where the men waited.

Chile’s conservative president, Sebastián Pinera, certainly contributed to this mining accident, and others. His own family owned profitable mines and his government consistently refused to improve conditions for miners. But during the ordeal at Copiapó, Pinera turned the situation to his advantage, staying at the site and in full view of the international TV cameras, comforting the families, and promising his government would spare nothing in the effort to rescue the men. Human-interest stories were reported in every language, images of a makeshift tent city where wives and children waited circled the globe. Amazingly, a tunnel was dug and a capsule constructed just large enough for a single human body. Finally, one by one all 33 miners were brought to the surface. Those most responsible for causing such a disaster basked in the glory of mission accomplished. No doubt this was a heroic event. I still remember sitting up that whole last night watching a live stream of the men being brought out one by one.

But, no sooner had the news reports faded, the tenor of the story changed. The rescued men were alive, but most were unable to work, many had psychological problems, none received adequate health care, and a number were wracked by PTSD. TV shows, even in the US, spotlighted their story. But no one in the Chilean government cared what happened to the victims or their families once it was out of the news. Then, as always, the next compelling event caught our attention. A year later, few of the miners had been able to return to mining. Fewer still had other jobs. Their lives and the lives of their families had been destroyed. And Chile itself wasn’t any closer to legislating better mining conditions. President Pinera had won his 15 minutes of fame, and 33 brave men had lost everything but their lives.

This is the way it turns out with most of these manmade disasters that can be traced to human negligence and/or greed. The responsible parties have the money and influence to bend other people’s tragedies to their advantage. Perhaps the most outrageous example of this right here in the United States, is the British Petroleum Company’s Deep Water Horizon oil spill.

On April 20th, 2010, an explosion destroyed the Deep Water Horizon, one of British Petroleum’s (BP) drilling platforms off the coast of Louisiana. Eleven men lost their lives. But that tragic loss of life was not the end of the disaster. For 84 days it proved impossible to cap the resultant oil leak, which continued spewing crude and saturating the waters of the gulf two the tune of hundreds of thousands of tons a day. The viscous coat strangled wildlife, clogged shoreline swamps, and severely affected a number of coastal industries, from fishing to tourism.

Every government oversight agency promised to make BP clean up the mess, and the company promised it would. To judge from its ongoing TV advertising, it would “stay until the cleanup is complete” and “no one care’s more about the people of the Gulf than BP.” Less than a year after the spill the company boasted that the area’s fishing and tourism industries were back at pre-spill levels.

But let’s look at some statistics BP would prefer we ignore. The greatest impact was on marine species. The spill area once hosted 8,332 of these. They have largely been decimated. During a January 2013 flyover, former NASA physicist Bonny Schumaker noted a “dearth of marine life” in a radius 30 to 50 miles around the well, and much farther afield photographs of pelicans dying beneath a coat of crude provided the single-image story that packs such a wallop. A definitive link has been established between the death of the Gulf’s coral community and the spill.

People, too, continue to suffer. Aside from thousands of lost livelihoods, by the June following the explosion 143 exposure cases had been reported to the Louisiana Department of Health and Hospitals; 108 of these cases involved workers in the cleanup efforts, but many were reported by ordinary citizens who just happened to live in the affected area. Chemicals from the oil and dispersant are believed to be the cause of the illnesses. Mike Robicheux, a Louisiana physician who treats people who have been exposed to toxic chemicals, has described it as the biggest public health crisis from a chemical poisoning in the country’s history.

After the accident a marked increase in mental disorders and stress-related health problems were also noted. Environmental scientist Wilma Subra reports that she is finding amounts of volatile organic compounds in those people coming in with oil-related illnesses that are 5 to 10 times in excess of what is deemed to be safe. If past experience is an indicator, however, we have probably only seen the tip of the iceberg. Problems linked to the Deep Water Horizon explosion will likely continue to be felt generations into the future.

The economic effect on the people of the Gulf Coast has been severe. On the one hand, residue from the spill continues to decimate seafood, fishing, and tourism. On the other, Louisiana’s local officials fear the offshore drilling moratorium imposed in response to the spill will further harm the economies of coastal communities. The oil industry employs about 58,000 Louisiana residents and has created another 260,000 oil-related jobs, accounting for about 17% of all jobs in the state. As with all such situations, a way must be found to balance the need for jobs and serious environmental concerns.

Following the BP disaster, public opinion polls in the US were generally critical of the way President Obama and the federal government handled the disaster, and extremely critical of the company’s response. BP says it’s there for the long haul. But as of March 2012 the company estimated its total spill-related expenses hadn’t exceeded $37.2 billion. Yet it listed its 2012 profits as $25 billion. Perhaps more troubling is the fact that BP and other big oil companies continue to ravage the Mississippi and Louisiana Gulf Coast. There are stretches where, as far as the eye can see a poorly regulated oil industry is making the land its own. We have a history of such tragedies followed by vows to pass legislation that would eliminate them going forward, only to be followed by political jockeying that makes regulatory change impossible.

All of the above is marginal, though, to the point I want to make; which is that distinguishing between so-called natural disasters and those considered human-made is a false dichotomy. Humans are responsible for preventing climate, weather, industrial and war-provoked disasters. Humans with power are the most responsible of all.

We call some of these tragedies human-made and others natural. But what is the difference, really, when the same people are always the ones who get hurt?