Disaster Culture

Knowledge and Uncertainty in the Wake of Human and Environmental Catastrophe

Gregory Button

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• Topic: Social Sciences
• eBook ISBN:
  9781315430355
• Subtopic: Public Policy
• Index: Social Sciences

When disaster strikes, a ritual unfolds: a flood of experts, bureaucrats, and analysts rush to the scene; personal tragedies are played out in a barrage of media coverage; on the ground, confusion and uncertainty reign. In this major comparative study, Gregory Button draws on three decades of research on the most infamous human and environmental calamities to break new ground in our understanding of these moments of chaos. He explains how corporations, state agencies, social advocacy organizations, and other actors attempt to control disaster narratives, adopting public relations strategies that may either downplay or amplify a sense of uncertainty in order to advance political and policy goals. Importantly, he shows that disasters are not isolated events, offering a holistic account of the political dynamics of uncertainty in times of calamity.

1. A Sea of Uncertainty

When I first heard of the spill, I didn't think it would affect me or anyone in the Homer area. I felt sorry for the fishermen in Prince William Sound and I felt sorry for the animals and the environment since I had hunted and fished in the sound many times over the years. However, as the spill came around the outer coast and neared Kachemak Bay I began to realize that it was going to profoundly affect my life and the lives of all animals and humans in the bay. My crew and I went out on my ship to see the oiled beaches. In order to get some idea of what to expect. Nothing prepared us for what we saw. There was total destruction. It was as if an atomic bomb had gone off Crude oil was all over the beach up to the high tide area. "There were countless dead birds littered about the beach and we heard the screams of a dying baby otter as it lay next to its dead mother. I couldn't take it. I sank down to my knees and sobbed uncontrollably. We were all crying. It was then that I realized our paradise was in jeopardy. We decided to return to Homer and tell the others what we had seen. Everything about our future felt terribly uncertain.

Homer Fisherman (Stout, July 14, 1990)

On March 24, 1989, the Exxon-Valdez oil tanker, a ship longer than three football fields and carrying 1,286,738 barrels of crude oil, went aground on Bligh Reef in Prince William Sound, Alaska. In the largest oil spill in

Map of the Alaska Oil Spill.

North American history, eleven million gallons of crude oil flowed into a pristine wilderness area and affected twenty-four coastal communities. Within a week, the spill would cover 900 square miles of water; within two weeks, 1,300 miles were contaminated. Homer, Alaska, is a small city on the shore of Kachemak Bay on the Kenai Peninsula. Residents of the town, which is 530 road-miles from the city of Valdez, were saddened and outraged but never suspected that the spill would soil their own waters in Cook Inlet and Kachemak Bay. Like other Alaskans, they were worried about the wildlife in Prince William Sound and were concerned about the fate of the fishing industry. Many Homer residents held permits to fish in the Sound, and the Homer cannery processed over 1,000 tons of fish from the Sound annually.

It soon became the benchmark in U.S. environmental history by which all ensuing environmental disasters were to be measured. The spill acted as a catalyst for the environmental movement just as the Santa Barbara oil spill (1969) had two decades earlier. The impact of the spill far exceeded any harm previously inflicted by an oil spill in U.S. waters. The impact on the environment was massive. More than 350,000 sea birds were killed, along with 144 bald eagles, 5,500 sea otters, thirty seals, and twenty-two whales. These mortality statistics are based only on the animal corpses recovered. Some scientists suspect that nearly half the corpses of marine mammals were lost at sea and never recovered. Sharp declines in pink salmon and herring in Prince William Sound have been associated with the devastation of the marine habitat. The economic and sociocultural impacts were also severe. Both short- and long-term harm was inflicted on individuals, families, businesses, local governments, and Native Alaskan communities. Spill-related social conflict and spill-related disruption of social routines were frequently reported. Threats to traditional subsistence and cultures were most common in native communities. One major study reported that "because of how the clean-up was organized and because of how the money was spent, the socioeconomic and psychological damage to the communities worsened" (Impact Assessment, 1990; Button, 1993).

Soon, the first of many uncertainties began to unfold. In the days following the spill, the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) assured Alaskans that little of the oil would leave Prince William Sound. A few fishermen who hailed from New England recalled the false assurances made by government scientists in the wake of the wreck of the Amoco Cadiz in 1976 that the oil would never come ashore. They were among the first to be wary of NOAA's and Exxon's claims (Winslow, 1978). As Homer residents watched the tides, there was growing skepticism about assurances that the oil would not harm their waters. Their intimate and extensive knowledge of the tides in Alaskan waters told them otherwise. In mounting anger and distrust, they began to challenge NOAA and Exxon on their forecast. They urged precautionary measures that would protect coastal areas outside of Prince William Sound. The skepticism of residents was well founded, based not only on their keen understanding of the local tides but also on earlier scientific research that suggested that the state of the art of oil spill movement "was not without its uncertainties." An article in Technology Review stated, "We still do not understand how the waves passing underneath an oil slick, the wind blowing over it, and the gross motions of the underlying water combine to move oil on the surface of the seas" (1976).

In spite of the locals' knowledge of the complex tides in Prince William Sound and the Gulf of Alaska, NOAA scientists and Exxon officials dismissed the concerns of coastal residents, as they would for years to come. Later, an NOAA official would tell me that he had "learned a valuable lesson" and that in the future, in addition to computer modeling, he would give more credence to local knowledge (NOAA Official, July 10,1990).

Six days after the spill, a notice appeared in the Homer News warning that the oil could reach Kachemak Bay. The next day, the oil escaped from Prince William Sound and threatened the outer coast of the Kenai Peninsula and the fishing waters of Homer area residents. Slowly, the oil crept toward the Homer coastline.

As the oil spread, concerns grew about the potential impact on local ways of life. Perhaps most poignant were the Alaskan Native responses. After some villagers in Port Graham returned from the outer coast with news of the oil's arrival there, the women of Port Graham went out that night to the outer coast at low tide to gather chitons (small mollusks) from the rocks. After cooking and cleaning them, they distributed one plastic bag of these much-prized delicacies to every household in the village (Kearnes, 1990). As the natives of English Bay observed the inevitable advance of crude oil, they, too, began gathering food from the intertidal zone. Like the villagers in Port Graham, English Bay residents especially sought out the mollusks. Robert Kvasnikoff, the village corporation president, said, "It's like the Good Lord told you, you have one more hour to live. Go see your friends one last time" (April 23, 1990).

Putting the Fox in Charge of the Chicken Coop

In an unanticipated move, President George Bush Sr. placed Exxon in charge of the oil spill cleanup. Many Alaskans, both pro- and anti-oil, were stunned and furious about this decision. Many said it was tantamount to putting a fox to guard the chicken coop or putting a rapist in charge of helping his victim. For some, it violated ideals of American democracy. One Kodiak resident said, "In a democracy, the party responsible for negligence or criminal offences isn't given power to decide how restitution is to be made, what it is, when it is completed, and where it is accomplished" (TDTWD, 1990).

According to the oil spill response contingency plans, Alyeska, the consortium of seven oil companies that operates the pipeline from the North Slope of Alaska to Prince William Sound, was supposed to be legally responsible for oil spill cleanups. British Petroleum (BP) had the majority holding and so bore most of the responsibility for the spill response, even though it was an Exxon tanker that ran aground. As the primary partner in the consortium, BP made most of the decisions in the initial days following the spill, decisions that allowed the spill to swell out of control and become the largest oil spill in U.S. waters in history.

Alyeska's oil spill contingency plan was found wanting. Among other errors, it overlooked, according to sociologist Lee Clarke, the qualitative difference between small and very large spills (1999:107). Alyeska's plans for a spill of great magnitude were grossly inadequate to the challenge of responding to the Exxon spill. Its contingency report stated: "Alyeska believes it is highly unlikely a spill of this magnitude (200,000 barrels) would occur" (Alyeska, 1987:3.5). Their scenario for a large spill included "seas less than five feet, currents less than 1.6 knots, waves less than 2 feet, 2 miles visibility, and winds of 5 knots" (Alyeska, 1987). These almost perfect conditions were highly optimistic for Prince William Sound. In keeping with this optimism, the report's authors stated that booms and skimmers would arrive at the spill within two and one-half to five hours (U.S. Senate, April 6, 1989). The response plan made the common error–or used the common strategy–of relying on a best-case, rather than a worst-case, scenario. Furthermore, as with all contingency plans, it made promises it could not keep.

The response effort was crippled from the beginning. The spill response station that was supposed to be erected in the Sound was never built. Instead of having large quantities of boom on hand, only enough was available to surround the tanker. The timeliness of the response was also severely curtailed by the fact that the response barge, which was supposed to be in harbor and fully stocked for immediate deployment at all times, was, instead, on shore, buried under snow, and ill-equipped to respond. The skimmers that were supposed to be part of the response effort were out of commission. It took seven hours for Alyeska's helicopter to arrive at the spill site. Not only was the oil spill response equipment not in a state of readiness, the oil spill response team had been disbanded.

The plan originally called for cleaning up oil spills in Prince William Sound efficiently enough as to preclude the need for a state or federal takeover of the effort. It called for a five hour response time and estimated that 50 percent of the oil would be recovered. This was an overly optimistic projection: typically, only 10 to 15 percent of spilled oil is recovered (U. S. GAO, October, 1989). In Prince William Sound, the recovery was less than 10 percent—probably somewhere between 6 and 8 percent (U. S. Congress, Office of Technology Assessment, 1991).

The State of Alaska also had an oil spill contingency plan. However, the Alaska Department of Environmental Conservation did not have a full-time response team or maintain a large inventory of response equipment and supplies—nor did it have a plan for a spill anywhere near the magnitude of the Exxon-Valdez spill. The plan was voluntary; it was vague and contained no language regarding how the state would interact with either Alyeska or federal response teams.

Had all of these response systems been in place, the Exxon-Valdez might have remained a small chapter in the history of oil spills. However, the contingency plans were largely blue smoke and mirrors. Valdez resident Mike Lewis summed up the feelings of many Alaskans:

The failure in the Prince William Sound oil spill was a failure of technology and it was a triumph of public relations. We had been promised this wonderful shining example of technology, with the marine terminal facility and pipeline, and the ability to handle these tankers through Prince William Sound. And then on March 24th we suddenly woke up with the realization that what had been happening all along was that technology was never put in place, but millions of dollars were spent on public relations to make everybody think they were okay. (Citizens Commission Hearings, November 1989: 14)

As it turned out, Lewis's interpretation of how the spill response unfolded is not far from the truth. An anonymous source within Exxon told me that Exxon brought in their public relations team first and their logistics team last. This decision apparently infuriated members of the logistics team, who were ready to go within ten hours after the tanker went aground. Later, in an interview with Fortune magazine, a statement by Exxon CEO Lawrence Rawl revealed this focus on public relations: "You'd better pre think which way you are going to jump from a public relations standpoint before you have any kind of problem. You ought to always have a public relations plan, even though it is kind of hard to force yourself to think of a chemical plant blowing up or spilling all that oil in Prince William Sound" (Davidson, 1999: 206). Paradoxically, despite Rawl's statement and all the money Exxon spent to improve its public image, the company made many PR mistakes, especially in the early days of the spill. For example, for several days Rawls refused to be interviewed by the press or go to Alaska. Matters worsened when, on April 3, 1989, Exxon released "An Open Letter to the Public," which was printed in over one hundred major media outlets. The letter, signed by Rawls, stated, "We believe we acted swiftly and competently to minimize the effects this oil will have on the environment, fish, and other wildlife." This stiffly worded apology backfired and infuriated many people because, by the time this letter was issued, it was already an accepted fact that Exxon had acted slowly and incompetently. Many people in Alaska to whom I spoke were also incensed that the letter neglected to mention the impact the oil would have on their lives as well as the environment. Insensitive gaffes like this proved to be harmful to BP's CEO, as we shall see in a later chapter.

When Governor Steve Cowper learned of the delays and inadequacies of the response plans, he requested that President Bush federalize the spill. Alaska senators Ted Stevens and Frank Murkowski supported this request. Admiral Nelson of the Coast Guard refused to federalize the spill, saying the arrangement would be too cumbersome. U.S. Coast Guard Admiral Yost explained in a Senate hearing that the federal government was afraid that, if such as step were taken, Exxon might withhold money for the cleanup and the federal government would have to pay for it (U. S. Senate, April 6, 1989: 75-76). If the Coast Guard merely coordinated the cleanup, however, Exxon would continue "to keep their checkbook open." Under Yost's scenario, "we basically direct and guide Exxon in where we want the cleanup, where we want the skimmers." Unfortunately, Yost assumed the Coast Guard would have more authority to direct than it ended up having, an assumption that would haunt him in the coming months. The Tanker Owners Pollution Federation was also critical of the plan. The Federation argued that although the polluter was responsible for the cleanup, it lacked authority to respond. Other organizations were also critical of placing Exxon in charge.

The Petroleum Industry Response Organization argued that large spills such the Exxon-Valdez spill should be federalized in order to insure an unambiguous command structure (U. S. Congress, Office of Technology Assessment, 1990). The Natural Resources Defense Council (1991) also joined the fray and argued that, not only should large oil spills be federalized immediately in order to insure a clear command structure, but such a plan would have the public interest as its foremost consideration.

Even the Office of Technology Assessment was leery of the plan to place Exxon in charge. In light of the Exxon-Valdez oil spill, they argued that, "by the time the Coast Guard determines the polluter is incapable of dealing with a spill, it may well be too late for anyone to mount a successful countermeasure effort" (U. S. Congress, Office of Technology Assessment, 1990).

Ultimately, President Bush ignored these pleas and decided against federalizing the spill and asked the Coast Guard to coordinate and monitor Exxon's effort.

The National Response Team Report to the President (May 1989) was critical of Alyeska, Exxon, the state, and the federal government for not being prepared for a spill the size of the Exxon Valdez spill. There was considerable confusion between Alyeska and Exxon in the immediate hours after the spill because neither of their contingency plans had clear guidelines for coordinating a spill response. When it was determined that Alyeska was not prepared to respond, Exxon assumed control of the cleanup; however, both organizations failed to inform the state or the federal government of this decision. This move created greater confusion and seriously impeded communications between Exxon and the state and federal response teams.

As the National Response Team pointed out (May, 1989: 12), the shortage of equipment "delayed any opportunity to contain the spilled oil early on." The failure of Alyeska to respond immediately to the spill and the revelations that the state, federal, and Exxon oil spill contingency plans were inadequate undermined the public's belief in the credibility of all parties. Alyeska's failures instilled a strong distrust of authorities, which permeated the cleanup activities for the duration of the clean up over the next two years.

Some Homer residents reported they were furious at what they saw as collusion between the federal government and Exxon, while state and local officials apparently stood idly by Some residents were upset because they thought that the Coast Guard and the oil industry had a too cozy relationship. Some informants alleged that there was a revolving door between the two in which retired Coast Guard officials were hired by the oil industry Later, the Alaska Oil Spill Commission Report (1989) was quite critical of the Coast Guard and stated that it had "an unduly friendly relationship with [the oil] industry." The report accused the Coast Guard of being lax in its enforcement of tanker safety: "The Coast Guard has failed the American People in providing oversight of the country's oil transportation system."

Larry Smith, a twenty-year resident of Homer and an environmental activist, wished for a governor like George Wallace, who would have, metaphorically, blocked the school house door and stood up for state's rights: "Governor Cowper should have gone over to Valdez and shut down the pipeline until the oil industry responded in a responsible way to the spill" (Smith, August 1, 1990). Homer's mayor, John Calhoun, accurately summed up local views in his testimony at the Alaska Oil Spill Commission Hearings in the middle of July:

The Coast Guard certainly could tell Exxon what to do. But if Exxon wanted to flip them off, they could do that, what kind of citation could the Coast Guard write them? I mean they've [Exxon] got more people sitting back there in law offices than they've got cleaning up the oil spill, they'll tell the Admiral right where to send it and smile. (AOSCH, 7/15/89: 29)

Mei Mei Evans, a Homer resident, at the same hearing, expressed the rage and frustration of many citizens:

While Exxon continues to play games of rhetoric and posturing with federal, state and local representatives, the oil continues to contaminate our shoreline and shut down our fisheries. As recently as yesterday afternoon, Exxon's latest public relations representative demonstrated that corporation's continuing insensitivity when he cheerfully observed to the Homer multi-agency advisory committee that "only two percent" of the total Alaska coastline has been affected by the spill.... There is a fundamental moral contradiction inherent in this situation, and that contradiction continues to abrade local residents every day. The spiller was given control of the restoration, and to this day, one hundred and fourteen days aft...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Abbreviations
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• 1. A Sea of Uncertainty
• 2. Uncertainty and Social Conflict over Animal Rescue
• 3. "What You Don't Know Can't Hurt You"
• 4. "Damaged by Katrina, Ruined by Murphy Oil"
• 5. Knowledge Withheld
• 6. "What We Don't Know Can't Hurt You"
• 7. Mediated Disaster Narratives
• 8. Contested Knowledge
• 9. The Production of Uncertainty
• 10. Sequestered Knowledge
• 11. A Gulf of Uncertainty
• References
• Index
• About the Author