And The Crowd Says, “Boycott BP!”, by Paul Shirley

And The Crowd Says, “Boycott BP!”, by Paul Shirley

Normally, this is where I – and most writers – would put a three-paragraph introduction meant to soften you, the reader, for the direct thesis statement that would follow.  But today is different.  I don’t feel like wasting your time, so I’ll get right to it.

The oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is not BP’s fault.  It is your fault.

Okay, it’s not entirely your fault.  It is also my fault, and the fault of every American – nay, Earthling – who drives a car, uses products made of rubber, or eats food that is shipped, processed, or harvested using a machine powered by gasoline.

We are to blame.  Not American President Barack Obama, not BP chief executive Tony Hayward, not Republican Senator Joe Barton.

Us.  You and I.  Your mom.  Your brother.  Your ex-girlfriend, the one who used to tell you looked best in the navy blue boxer briefs.

The earth’s ejaculation of oil into the water south of the U.S. is a dirty, messy, environmental catastrophe.  But to call it a “tragedy”, to call it “unexpected”, or to call it “reprehensible” is to participate in something that is worse than the catastrophe itself.  It is to dodge responsibility for our role in the sequence of events that led directly to it.

We need the gasoline provided by oil rigs like the Deepwater Horizon, and we want to pay as little for that gasoline as possible.  The result: companies dig wells and float offshore mini-cities in order to provide consumers with the good they desire.  They don’t do it out of a sense of duty, mind you.  They do it because it is profitable.  In the case of the oil industry, wildly so.

Many people, when faced with the news that there was a massive oil leak in the Gulf of Mexico, responded as if an alien race had come to our planet and dumped a previously unknown, toxic substance into our waters.

Come on.  We know that companies are pulling oil out from under the ocean – hell, they’re pulling oil out from wherever they can.  We also know – assuming that “we” have anything above a second-grade education – that doing so probably carries with it a few risks.  I don’t think one has to have an engineering degree to realize that pumping oil out of the ocean floor probably isn’t a foolproof plan, especially when that ocean floor is a mile below the lowest point the best snorkeler among us has ever reached.

But, by the outrage displayed, the news that a process that is arguably more complicated than the moon landing (my estimate) went wrong comes as a surprise to some, if not most people.

But, but, but…BP had a terrible safety record; they were responsible for 97% of willful safety violations among oil refineries between 2007 and 2010! (Source: The Economist.)

Great.  So why weren’t you demanding justice then?   I’ll tell you – because you had decided that it wasn’t worth your time.

But, but, but…nobody told me!

Really, it’s a surprise that an oil company cuts corners?  Or to take it a step further, that any sort of company cuts corners?

Blaming an individual company for trying to make money, in all the ways that companies try to make money – by increasing prices, by cutting costs, by firing workers  – is like blaming an individual mosquito for spreading malaria.  The little bug isn’t willfully trying to harm humans.  He’s just going for a snack, and he happens to be carrying a group of parasites that may or may not kill the snackee and his family.

That doesn’t mean that either entity – the mosquito or BP – should be encouraged in its indirect malevolence.  It does mean that humans being should understand reality before they point figurative fingers and start real Facebook pages dedicated to boycotting BP.

This is the reality:

Most of us would complain if we saw even the slightest hike in gas or food prices due to an increase in cost to BP or ExxonMobil or Shell because of more money spent on safety procedures.

Most of us would bemoan any significant increase in the tax on gasoline, even if the proceeds went directly to the creation of alternative forms of energy.

None of us will call our Senators, stage protests, or campaign for the opposition when a watered-down environmental bill is passed in the US Congress in a few weeks or months.

Instead, what “we” will do is talk about whether the head of BP should have gone to a yacht race. We’ll be heartbroken for bayou fishermen while we eat the food their Peruvian replacements ship to Red Lobster.  We’ll pretend to care about the fates of gulls and oysters and pretty little turtles – because they’re on our televisions – while we continue to allow farmers to pump pesticides into our groundwater, destroying the purity of that water for generations.

This willful ignorance, more than anything else, is the source of my frustration with the public’s reaction to the BP oil spill.  I can handle partisan finger-pointing; they’re politicians, after all.  I can deal with numb businessmen; they can’t help being the mosquitoes they are.  What I can’t handle is an American population that is so easily distracted that it can’t see the relationship between its own behavior and the consequences of that behavior.

People often respond with outrage when they have no control over the outcome of a particular chain of events.  That outrage is intensified when some part of them knows that they could have done something to prevent the circumstances that resulted.  By railing even more vehemently against the issue in question, they overcompensate, perhaps thinking, subconsciously, that they can prove how much they care or how little they are to blame by reacting the most fiercely.

For example, a week ago, I took a break from writing a brilliant piece on the Deftones and noticed a missed call and accompanying message from a strange Kansas City phone number.  Not wanting to be bothered by some inanity, I chose to put off dealing with the message for a few hours.  When I decided to stand and face the voicemail, I discovered that the message was from the office of an orthopedist I’d been trying desperately to see, only to have been told that the man’s next available appointment was in September.

His nurse was calling to tell me that he’d had a cancellation for the next morning and that he could see me then, as long as I called back soon.  I hurriedly dialed the number provided.  The phone rang, and rang, and rang.  I hung up and tried again, to the same avail.  Frustrated by my own delinquency, my first thought was, How can they not have an answering machine?, when it should have been, Why didn’t I listen to the message when it came in?

My instinct was to blame anyone but myself.  The doctor, or the nurse, or the man who set up their telephones must have been at fault.  It couldn’t have been me.

My mini-story has a happy ending.  (If an ending in which a man tells me my ankle is just as fouled as originally thought can be considered happy.) I woke up early the next day, called the doctor’s office, and got in to see him.

The BP disaster is not likely to have a similarly pleasant end.  Some cute sea birds have died and are going to die, some fishcatchers aren’t going to have any fish to catch, and a bunch of oil is going to wash up on the coastline of the American South.

And, sure, it would have been nice if none of that would have happened.  But it did happen, and it’s because of us.

Every time you see a tar ball on the news, every time you see a baby bird coated in oil, remember this:  You and I did it.  Not Obama.  Not Hayward.  Not Barton

We killed that baby bird, with our inability to understand the link between our behavior – our driving, our eating, and our love of luxuries – and the processes needed to support that behavior.

So, when you see a news report about whichever Englishman has been picked to be the face of BP, or when you’re asked to boycott BP gasoline, don’t take the easy path.  Don’t join in with the masses, who would turn on their own mothers if it meant they didn’t have to think.  Stand up and take responsibility.

Stand up and say, “I did this.  Now what can I do to make sure it doesn’t happen again?”

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