Should Trapped Miners Be Paid?

Most people don’t expect to be paid when they’re not doing work. Sure, most people get paid during coffee breaks, and lucky folks get paid vacations. And some people get paid sick days. But what about when you’re not working for months on end? Does any employer have an obligation to pay you under those conditions? What about when you’re not working, but physically at work, for months on end?

That’s the issue faced by 33 miners trapped 2,300 feet below ground, in a collapsed Chilean mine.

Here’s the story, written by Nick Allen for the Daily Telegraph, but featured in the Ottawa Citizen: Trapped miners may not be paid

The 33 Chilean miners trapped underground may not be paid for months while rescuers try to reach them, leaving their families with no income.

The San Esteban company, which operates the mine, has said it has no money to pay wages and is not even taking part in the rescue.

It has suggested that it may go bankrupt and its licence has been suspended.

Evelyn Olmos, the leader of the miners’ union, called on Chile’s government to pay the workers’ wages from next month….

My initial impulse: yes, of course the miners deserve to get paid. Granted, they’re not exactly doing productive work, but that’s not their fault. Even though they’re not working, they are in fact still on the job. The problem, of course, is that the company seems financially incapable of paying them, not just unwilling. Legal means can be attempted, but if it’s really true that the company is bankrupt — well, you can’t get blood from a stone. (Note also that, for what it’s worth, the mine’s owners have asked the miners for forgiveness.)

So that leaves the government (i.e., the citizens) of Chile. Should they pay? Now, to be clear — and this is a crucial distinction — I’m not just asking whether it would be a good thing if the miners end up getting paid. I’m asking whether Chilean taxpayers have an obligation to pay them. I think the answer to that is less clear than the question of whether a financially-capable company would have an obligation to pay them. Now, this isn’t a public policy blog, it’s a business ethics blog, so I don’t often delve into what constitutes the morally-best decision for government. But it’s worth thinking about what principles might apply to this case not just from the point of view of government’s obligations to citizens in need, but from the point of view of government’s obligations to take up the slack when industry undertakes dangerous operations that can end up requiring considerable financial resources when things go wrong. Is government’s willingness to clean up the mess part of what lets mining companies put miners at unreasonable risk in the first place? Or should we think instead that the government’s willingness to help out is just part of the insurer-of-last-resort role that we want government to take on, and that allows all sorts of companies (responsible or otherwise) to be in business in the first place?

As a post-script, I should point out that the moral parallels between the Chilean mine rescue and the BP oil spill cleanup, in this regard, are striking.

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Also of interest, on the Research Ethics Blog:
Could Research be Done on the Trapped Miners?

BP and Corporate Social Responsibility

I’ve long been critical of the term “CSR” — Corporate Social Responsibility. (See for example my series of blog postings culminating in my claim that “CSR is Not C-S-R”.) Too many people use the term “CSR” when they actually want to talk about basic business ethics issues like honesty or product safety or workplace health and safety — things that are not, in any clear way at least, matters of a company’s social responsibilities.

But the BP oil spill raises genuine CSR questions — it’s very much a question of corporate, social, responsibility.

BP is in the business of finding oil, refining it, and selling the gas (and propane, etc.) that results. In the course of doing business, BP interacts with a huge range of individuals and organizations, and those interactions bring with them ethical obligations. Basic ethical obligations in such a business would include things like:

a) providing customers with the product they’re expecting (rather than one adulterated with water, for example),
b) dealing honestly with suppliers,
c) ensuring reasonable levels of workplace health and safety,
d) making an honest effort to build long-term share value,
e) complying with environmental laws and industry best practices, and so on.

Most of those obligations are obligations to identifiable individuals (customers, employees, shareholders, etc.). There’s nothing really “social” about those obligations (with the possible exception of compliance with law, which might better be categorized as an obligation of corporate citizenship, or more directly an environmental obligation). And it’s entirely possible that BP, in the weeks leading up to the spill, met most of those ethical obligations. The exception, of course, is workplace health and safety — 11 workers were killed in the Deepwater Horizon blowout. But even had no one been killed or even hurt during the blowout, a question of social responsibility would remain.

So, what makes the oil spill a matter of social responsibility? Precisely the fact that the risks (and eventual negative impacts) of BP’s deep-water drilling operations are borne by society at large. The spill has resulted in enormous negative externalities — negative effects on people who weren’t involved economically with BP, and who didn’t consent (at least not directly) to bear the risks of the company’s operations.

Now, all (yes all) production processes involve externalities. All businesses emit some pollution (directly or indirectly via the things they consume) and impose some risks on non-consenting third parties. So the question of CSR has to do with the extent to which a company is responsible for those effects, and (maybe) the extent to which companies have an obligation not just to avoid social harms (or risks) but to contribute socially (beyond making a product people value). From a CSR point of view, then, the question with regard to BP is whether the risks taken were reasonable. Most of us would say “no.” But then most of us still want plentiful cheap gas.

Thus the BP oil spill provides an excellent way to illustrate the way we should understand the scope of the term “corporate social responsibility,” and how to keep that term narrow enough for it to retain some real meaning.

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p.s., here are a few relevant bits of reading:

1) Did you know that, in 2005, BP made it onto the Global 100 list of the “Most Sustainable Companies in the World”, a feat the company repeated in 2006. (And yes, that’s a reason to be skeptical about such rankings!)

2) See also this bit on Which is the Most Ethical Oil Company?

3) And finally here is BP’s own take on CSR, from 2002, see this speech: The boundaries of corporate social responsibility

Business Ethics in China

There are significant problems with business ethics in the world’s second biggest economy, China. Witness the recent scandals involving tainted milk powder. Before that, lead paint used in toys was the big issue. Last year, there was a scandal involving injecting water into meat to increase its weight. And it’s not just a matter of a few scandals. According to Transparency International’s 2009 Corruption Perceptions Index, China ranks 79th (just a couple of notches below Columbia, and just above Swaziland and Serbia. (New Zealand is #1 — i.e., least-corrupt. The U.S. ranks 19th, and Canada is tied for 8th.)

Here’s an interesting piece on the topic of the special problems of business ethics in China, on Russell Flannery’s blog on Forbes: On The Front Line In China: Challenging Business Ethics. It’s well worth reading.

Here are just a few thoughts and questions:

1) It’s worth thinking about the relationship between ethics and success in the Chinese context. Three years ago, I blogged from a conference in Latvia, and I pointed out that many countries that were formerly part of the Soviet Union “are still struggling with establishing democratic institutions, and establishing the kinds of background conditions — including the rule of law and traditions of basic trust — that allow their populations to prosper.” In other words, at least some basic business ethics is necessary in order to have a flourishing economy. It’s a truth that many economists (including Nobel prize-winners like Ronald Coase and Amartya Sen) have written about. But China’s economy is booming, apparently despite serious problems related to basic integrity in business. Why?

2) Will foreign trade help? In particular, I wonder about the role of companies like Apple and Walmart. Apple and Walmart (and especially the latter) provide mechanisms for Chinese companies to sell stuff to wealthy westerners. But Apple and Walmart are also high-profile American companies, subject to constant, intense scrutiny. And both have the economic muscle to force Chinese suppliers to do things their way, if they decide to. In other words, if Apple and Walmart insist on (and verify) certain kinds of behaviour, it will happen. In some cases, of course, a company like Walmart — with its constant pressure on suppliers to cut costs — may be part of the problem. On the other hand, dealing with a company like Walmart is going to make all sorts of basic dishonesty very hard to get away with. Walmart famously pays close attention to the details.

3) What about western companies selling things in China? A while back, I blogged about the fact that there’s a lot to be gained by, for example, North American companies that figure out how to do business in China in a way that’s ethically acceptable to the folks back home. In this regard, Google and various pharmaceutical companies come to mind. Again, those are companies subject to significant scrutiny. Is there hope that those companies can raise the ethical tone of the Chinese industries they work in or with? Again, some may find it ironic to see anyone looking to Big Pharma to improve ethics anywhere. But despite its many failings, Big Pharma is heavily regulated, and those regulations (and the threat of litigation) force those companies to avoid behaviours that are likely very tempting to companies operating in places, like China, where regulations may be more lax.

Conflict Kitchen: Business as Activism

Conflict Kitchen“What do we want? Sandwiches! When do we want them? Now!”

Businesses are not infrequently the targets of protests, boycotts, and other forms of activism. But what about business as a form of activism?

I’m not just talking about using a market-based approach to achieve certain kinds of social goals, as in various kinds of social enterprise. What about a business whose very purpose is to raise consciousness on a particular ethico-political issue?

Witness Conflict Kitchen, a Pittsburgh take-out restaurant “that only serves cuisine from countries that the United States is in conflict with.” But it’s more than just food: the business is “augmented by events, performances, and discussion about the the culture, politics, and issues at stake with each country we focus on.”

Cool idea. Here are just a few thoughts:

1) Inevitably, there are people who find the idea of highlighting the food & culture of America’s enemies objectionable. See, for example, in the comment section of this page, the claim that those operating the restaurants are “traitors.” I’m guessing that debate over what counts as loyalty, in contexts involving political and military conflict, is just the sort of thing the people behind Conflict Kitchen were hoping for. So, as they say, mission accomplished.

2) Some people may find the mission of Conflict Kitchen offputting in a different way. Maybe they just want lunch, minus the sermon (or even just minus having their consciousness raised). Is there a bait-and-switch, here? Get them in the door by promising yummy treats, and then bring on the politics…

3) Conflict Kitchen also represents an interesting (novel?) way of funding activism. Most kinds of activism rely on donations, and some on tax dollars. Conflict Kitchen says it receives no tax dollars, though it does have a number of non-profit supporters. But its activities are funded at least in part by selling food. I’d be curious to see to what extent the food is subsidizing, rather than being subsidized by, the activism. Other kinds of activism are, of course, funded by selling things. All kinds of groups sell t-shirts, videos, etc., to support their work. But this strikes me as different.

4) I suspect this approach is bang-on correct, psychologically. I suspect sitting down over food is a great way to foster mutual understanding. Unfortunately, I suspect the people who most need it are the least likely to partake.


Thanks to NW for alerting me to this story.

Ethics, BP, & Decision-Making Under Pressure

Over the last couple of months, criticism of BP has become an international pastime. It’s hard not to get the impression that most members of the public believe that senior managers at BP (and quite possibly everyone employed at BP) are bungling fools. And probably lazy too.

But of course, that’s patently absurd. And maybe nobody actually believes it. We all know that the relevant people at BP are smart and highly-trained. They wouldn’t have the jobs they have if they weren’t. True, no one was very happy with the amount of time it took to get the oil well capped. And almost certainly mistakes were made. But the capping of the well was a feat of enormous technical difficulty and complexity, carried out under intense scrutiny. Few of us, if we are honest with ourselves, can imagine performing well under those circumstances.

Here’s a story that speaks to the difficulty of those circumstances, by Clifford Krauss, Henry Fountain and John M. Broder, writing for the NYT: Behind Scenes of Gulf Oil Spill, Acrimony and Stress. Here’s just a sample, though the whole article is well worth reading:

Whether the four-month effort to kill it was a remarkable feat of engineering performed under near-impossible circumstances or a stumbling exercise in trial and error that took longer than it should have will be debated for some time.

But interviews with BP engineers and technicians, contractors and Obama administration officials who, with the eyes of the world upon them, worked to stop the flow of oil, suggest that the process was also far more stressful, hair-raising and acrimonious than the public was aware of….

So, after reading the NYT piece, ask yourself these questions:

1) If, in the middle of the well-capping operation, you (yes you) had been invited to stop playing armchair quarterback and become part of the team working on a solution, would you have? Assume you had some relevant expertise. Would you have agreed to help? I’m not sure I would have. I would have been seriously reluctant to subject myself (and my family!) to that kind of experience.

2) Assuming you accepted the above invitation, how confident are you that you would have performed well?

3) Finally, setting aside your own willingness and ability to help, do you know of any organization that you are confident could have performed well in a) a task of that technical difficulty and complexity, while b) under similar conditions of intense scrutiny?

None of this is intended to be fully exculpatory. It’s quite likely that there were ethical lapses that contributed to the blowout and the oil spill that resulted. But when we’re thinking about BP’s response to the disaster, our assessment of the company’s performance — and specifically the performance of the thousands of individuals who actually did the work — ought to be informed by an appreciation of the nature of the task performed. Ethical decisions are never made in a vacuum. And in some cases, they’re made in the middle of a hurricane.

Success at Selling Less

A few months ago, I posted about Pepsi promising to stop selling its sugary drinks to kids at school (see The Ethics of Selling Less.) I pointed out that there’s a significant problem for a company that sells a product that, when consumed in moderation, is totally harmless, but which when over-consumed is dangerous. It’s hard to know what counts as success. Moderation is a nice word, but it’s a hard corporate goal.

I’m interested in the general idea, so I’m curious to find examples from other industries. So, my questions:

1) What other products or services are there that we want or need in some quantity, but that, socially, we want to use less of?

Some obvious examples:

  • sugary beverages;
  • legal advice;
  • healthcare;
  • electricity;
  • gasoline.

In each case, we need (or want) to have access; but we wish that overal usage were lower. We’re glad the companies supplying these things exist, but we don’t necessarily want maximum consumption of their products. Of course, the reasons are different in different cases. We need gas, but we want reduced consumption because burning gas causes pollution. For healthcare, on the other hand, we want the right amount (rather than the maximum) because we don’t want people to need much healthcare, and we don’t want to provide unnecessary care (and face unnecessary side effects).

Now, the 2nd question:
2) Are there cases in which the providers of those products or services have been successful at acting socially responsible, by finding ways to remain in business while also actively finding ways to reduce sales? Small examples are relatively easy. Good and ethical lawyers, for example, will help their clients find ways to stay out of court (even though going to court is lucrative for lawyers). And there have been programmes launched by various electrical and water utilities to reduce consumption (e.g., by promoting use of energy-efficient appliances or water-efficient shower heads).

Can you think of other cases in which:
a) we’re glad the company exists (or at least neutral about it);
b) it’s bad (socially or individually) if too much of their product is consumed; and
c) the company has made non-trivial efforts to limit sales in some way.

Tip the Farmer?

In much of the world, patrons of restaurants and bars tip their waiters, waitresses, and bartenders, in recognition of a job well-done (and in recognition that, in some jurisdictions at least, such jobs are exempted from minimum wage requirements). More recently, tip jars have shown up at places featuring counter service only, like coffee shops. But if you’re going to tip your barista, why stop there? Why not show your appreciation to, say, the farmer who grew and harvested the coffee?

That’s precisely the idea behind this interesting project: TraceableCoffee.org

“We’re using technology to put a human face on a commodity product that Americans savor every day. Coffee lovers don’t think twice about providing a well-deserved tip to a barista, so why not use your smart phone or computer to tip the actual farmers who grew your coffee,” said Thaleon Tremain, General Manager, Pachamama Coffee Cooperative. “This isn’t charity, but a chance at a more direct and meaningful relationship with your coffee farmer.”

[That's from this press release.]

Interesting idea. And far be it from me to object to a voluntary transfer of wealth. But I wonder about just why farmers are being chosen as the beneficiaries. The most straightforward answer, of course, is that the project is the brainchild of the coffee growers cooperative. It’s entirely (and not unreasonably) self-serving. But from a consumer’s point of view, why tip farmers, in particular? If you appreciate your coffee, and want to improve the lives of the underprivileged people who made it possible, why single out farmers? Why the farmer, and not the truck driver who brought the coffee beans to the processing plant? Or the longshoreman who loaded the coffee onto or off of the ship that carried it from Guatemala or Ethiopia? Or the shipping clerk who made sure that the paperwork got done? Chances are, none of these people is well paid.

My guess is that our continuing romanticization of farming makes it easier to be sympathetic to the plight of a (poor) farmer than it is to be sympathetic to the plight of a (poor) shipping clerk. But from an ethical point of view, the choice seems entirely arbitrary.

(For a recent blog entry about a project with similar intentions, see “Progressive Garment Factory, or Charity?”).

Business Ethics in Film

Ethics on FilmAs September approaches, many of us are thinking about the start of school. Those of us who teach Business Ethics are thinking about how to ease our students into the topic without throwing them into deep philosophical waters right off the bat.

One way to do that is through film. Regular readers will know that I occasionally review movies here (both documentaries and fiction). Now I’ve set up a special page, on my EthicsWeb Bookstore, with links some of my reviews, along with Amazon links to let you buy the DVDs. Here it is: Ethics on Film.

My list is far from complete — I’ve kept the list minimal, sticking to movies I’ve reviewed on this blog or used in the classroom. So I’ve left out classics like Wall Street, for example). But if you have suggestions (especially for films that you’ve used successfully to foster discussion of business ethics) let me know.

Corporations & the Right to Sue for Libel

Back in February, just after the US Supreme Court issued its Citizens United decision that essentially asserted that corporations have a right to mostly-free speech in the political realm, there was a lot of speculation about what other rights would be asserted next on behalf of corporations.

In that regard, here’s an interesting story from the UK about the legal right of corporations to sue for libel. Writing in The Guardian, lawyer David Allen Green asks, Why should companies be allowed to sue for libel? The whole piece is very much worth reading, but here’s Green’s conclusion:

Given the range of other legal means open to companies to protect their commercial reputations, I think the right of companies to sue for libel should be severely limited, if not abolished altogether. The public interest requires nothing less.

Green suggests that those who assert the cogency of such a right likely do so on the basis of the idea that corporations are, after all, persons:

But to the conventionally minded English lawyer there is no question that companies should be able to sue for libel. After all, companies are “legal persons” – and in English law, personality goes a very long way. The view is that if “natural persons” can sue for libel then so can companies.

But it doesn’t seem to me at all obvious that personhood is the foundational notion, at least not ethically. What about something simpler, like the idea that the corporation is a valued instrument (of its owners, members, shareholders, whatever). If you libel a company (by publishing something false that damages its reputation) you do economic damage to its shareholders. But rather than having each shareholder launch a lawsuit against whomever wrote or broadcast the libelous words, it makes more sense to let the company itself sue.

Now, Green argues that companies have other effective mechanisms at their disposal, beyond libel law. And that may well be. My only point here is to argue that we don’t absolutely need to begin with the notion that a corporation is a person, in order to attribute to it certain legal rights. All we need to do is recognize that protection of the corporation is important to protecting the interests of those flesh-and-blood persons whose economic interests depend upon it.

(p.s., in the wake of Citizens United, I did a trio of blog entries on the topic. See my 1st, 2nd, and 3rd entries. A few months earlier, I had written about Why Corporations Must Be Legal Persons.)

Venture Capital: Lessons for Business Ethics (part 2)

Yesterday I posted the first of two blog entries on Ethics in Venture Capital. This is the second.

I noted yesterday that the relationship between venture capital (VC) firms and entrepreneurs is fraught with ethical challenges related to bargaining, information, control, and short term-ism. Those worries tell us something about the world of venture capital; but what do they tell us about business ethics more generally?

The key lesson, I think, is one I learned from Gary Pisano’s book, Science Business, though it isn’t a major theme of that book. The lesson is this: a funding model is also typically a governance model. This insight is at a very coarse level summed up by the old aphorism that “he who pays the piper calls the tune.” In business terms, providing financing means paying the piper. Governance is about getting to call the tune.

This is closely linked to the core lesson from another favourite book of mine, Henry Hansmann’s The Ownership of Enterprise. Hansmann’s book is an attempt to explain the patterns of ownership and control we observe when we look at the range of business firms that populate a market economy. When you look around at complex organizations like modern corporations, most of them tend to be owned by shareholders but managed by professional managers. What is it that explains how pervasive that particular setup is? Lots of other models are possible — partnerships, employee co-operatives, consumer co-ops, and so on. Law and even tax policy in most modern economies both permit and sometimes even encourage these other models, yet the shareholder-driven corporation dominates in most industries. Why? To make a long story short, Hansmann’s thesis is basically that the patterns of ownership we see can best be explained in terms of different stakeholders a) interest in, and b) ability efficiently to accomplish, effective oversight of managers.

So, back to VC. When VCs invest in firms, they often essentially assume ownership: they buy an equity stake in the firm and exercise control (via Board membership, among other mechanisms). But why are VCs involved at all, rather than other sources of funding, like employees or banks or non-expert shareholders? Basically, in Hansmannian terms, because VCs are better able to a) bear the risk involved in ownership of a startup company, and b) exercise the kind of knowledgeable control over the company (via supervision & sometimes appointment of managers) to make the risky investment worthwhile. But as I noted yesterday, the specific kind of (short-term) interest that VCs have in the firms they invest in raises a special set of ethical issues that look somewhat different from the issues faced in firms funded in other ways.

The lesson: if we want to understand the ethical challenges firms face, and why they do the things they do, we need to think in a detailed way about who owns them, the goals those owners have, and the extent to which the owners are exercising effective control.