In 2010, British Petroleum’s Deepwater Horizon oil rig exploded, spilling 134 million gallons of oil into the Gulf of Mexico. My Aunt Lori lived half a mile from the coast and watched as planes flew overhead spraying chemical dispersant into the water as part of the clean-up efforts. When the winds changed or the planes miscalculated the distance to the water, the dispersant, known as Corexit, sprayed in a fine mist over her neighborhood.
My aunt has always loved nature photography. When I was a child, she gave me an identification guide with all the birds of North America, which was far too heavy for a five-year-old to carry on our walks through my Appalachian hometown or along the Gulf shore when I would visit her. She and my uncle Dennis live in his family home, built in the 1930s, with a layout meant to encourage indoor-outdoor living. We spent our days in the open-air woodworking shed, making furniture and bird feeders to sell at farmers’ markets and fairs. It was a place where evenings felt made for eating freshly caught red snapper hot off the charcoal grill in the front yard.
It was a place where evenings felt made for eating freshly caught red snapper hot off the charcoal grill in the front yard.
The summer after the BP oil spill, Lori drove down to the coast to take photos of the birds and walk the shore as she had for years. But the beaches were blackened, and the wildlife was oil-slicked in the way that has become synonymous in the American mind with man-made disasters and Dawn dish soap. She saw the cleanup workers, many of whom were local and needed the work. The spill had shut down the thriving local fishing, oyster farming, shrimping, and other businesses that relied on the Gulf water.
As Lori photographed the scene and her camera turned toward the decontamination chambers BP had set up for their employees and equipment, workers intentionally sprayed her with Corexit to get her, and her camera, away from the site. BP had stated that the dispersants were safe for the environment and cleanup workers. However, by the time she made the 15-minute drive back to her house, the skin across her arms, legs, and face had turned bright red.
In the following months, her right leg opened to a deep wound, eating away at itself and emitting the putrid odor of rotten flesh. Her doctors weren’t sure she would live but were more confident she would lose her leg. She survived, as did her leg, but she was left with permanent brain and limb damage that left her unable to continue her embroidery business and qualified her for disability benefits. Because I was 11 at the time of the spill, I was mostly shielded from the grave nature and grisly details of Lori’s injuries. When she was released from the hospital, I believed that our social and legal systems would ensure that Lori’s medical expenses would be covered and that she would be cared for when BP was made aware of the harm they had caused.
Dozens of civil and criminal lawsuits followed the oil spill. A class action suit was brought against BP for the short-term medical damages caused to clean up workers and people who lived within one mile of the coast. Lori volunteered to help raise local awareness of the lawsuits and help potential members of the lawsuit walk through the dozens of tedious forms that needed to be filled out meticulously.
As a high school graduate, Lori was among the more formally educated members of her community. Many of the fisherman, shrimpers, and other coastal workers in the area had left school in 7th or 8th grade to join their thriving multi-generational family businesses, all of which were brought to a halt by the spill. Trying to navigate the system built by and for lawyers, they were as lost and unprepared as their lawyers in fine leather shoes would have been on the slippery deck of a shrimp trawler. In these sessions, some community members would sit quietly with their blank forms in front of them, or mumble softly about eye problems. Lori realized many of them could not read. With her characteristic kindness, she sat with each, reading the forms aloud and transcribing their answers.
In 2012, the decision in the short-term medical harms class action case stipulated that anyone who wanted to seek damages for medical harm after that case would need to file individually (Plaisance v. BP). Lori pursued a lawsuit against BP to cover the medical expenses caused by her exposure to Corexit. The lawyers on her case were hopeful. She had a healthy medical history before the spill, and her photographs placed her near the clean-up site. Her doctors had done extensive testing during her hospitalization, even sending some of her biopsy samples to the CDC for additional testing. Despite this evidence and 13 years of litigation, Lori’s case was dismissed.
During the trials, BP hired hundreds of medical experts, researchers, and entire university marine science departments, making them unable to testify against BP (Raines). Without expert medical testimony on the plaintiffs’ side, BP’s lawyers argued against the trustworthiness, efficacy, and even relevance of the medical data each case brought forward. As of 2023, only one of the thousands of plaintiffs who sued for long-term health damages had won a settlement (Sneath and Laughlin).
Unfortunately, Lori’s story is not unique. Of the 37,223 complaints filed in 2012 as part of the short-term medical injury lawsuit against BP, $65 million has been paid to 22,588 class members (Deepwater Horizon Settlement Claims Administrator). This sum may sound impressive, but it is less than $2,900 a person. In 2012, when the lawsuit began, BP generated $65 million in revenue every 6 days (Macrotrends).
When I heard that Lori’s case had been dismissed on appeal, my hopefulness was overtaken by anger. I was angry at the judge, her lawyers, BPs lawyers, BPs executives and consultants, legislators who expanded the ability for corporations to self-regulate, and anyone who had helped to build, reinforce, or normalize the system that allowed a multinational corporation to escape accountability for the harm they directly caused to someone I love.
I was angry at the judge, her lawyers, BPs lawyers, BPs executives and consultants, legislators who expanded the ability for corporations to self-regulate, and anyone who had helped to build, reinforce, or normalize the system that allowed a multinational corporation to escape accountability for the harm they directly caused to someone I love.
More recently, my anger has given way to fear. As I learn about corporate personhood and multi-district class action lawsuits in the United States, I realize how precarious life is for the 99.9% of the population that cannot afford multi-million-dollar legal battles against corporate malfeasance. Each day, we risk ending up like Lori–left deeply wounded by a corporation that knows it is cheaper at scale to bury us in legal fees or drag the process out beyond our natural lives than to pay reasonable compensation for our harm.
This experience shaped my views on what governments owe their people, how our legal system should favor regulation over litigation, and the moral value of individuals and corporations. I believe that governments have a responsibility to protect their citizens from undue harm and that to properly execute that responsibility, they must focus on strong corporate regulation. Individuals have a limited ability to influence a company’s impact on their environment, leaving them with only post-harm mechanisms for pursuing remedies. However, governments can, and should, institute strong regulatory standards to protect their citizens before they are harmed.
Today, I am trying to turn my hope, anger and fear into action. Like most people, I cannot change these systems directly. However, I believe there are two primary ways individuals can work towards a system that better protects themselves and their communities from corporate malfeasance. First, build strong social relationships with your community and work together to interact meaningfully with your shared government representatives. Second, avoid overwhelm by working on a part of the problem that has a manageable scope and aligns with your schedule and skillset.
We are best suited to protect the communities we belong to, leaning on first-hand experience and local knowledge to advocate for the specific needs of those around us. In this case, I am referring to your geographic community, as that group is most likely to experience the same effects from environmental or regulatory changes and to share government representatives.
Strong social cohesion can protect and inform, at both the individual and civic level. If corporate harm befalls you or your area, a unified community can create localized support systems that protect against the depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, loneliness, and other mental health issues that are hallmarks of the downstream effects of manmade disasters (Ku et al. and McGuire). Fostering positive community relationships can also help identify how potential regulations, economic or environmental projects, or other large-scale changes would affect different segments of the population. Armed with this knowledge, you or other community members can communicate with local, state, and federal representatives so they can best advocate for the needs of your community over corporate interests.
The second way individuals can affect large scale systemic issues is to identify a civic project that they are well positioned to work on. The good news is: complex problems need intersectional solutions. No matter what your background, your time and talents could strengthen our regulatory systems and create better outcomes for individuals who are harmed by corporate malfeasance. Identify the impactful actions that align with your schedule, skills, resources, identities, and community. For some, those actions may be contacting your local and state representatives, attending town halls, or getting involved directly in local politics. Others can volunteer with organizations like the ALERT Project, working to ban dispersants like Corexit in the United States, or with legal aid groups that strive to provide legal education and resources to individuals and communities in need of support. You can also pursue a career that empowers you to work on these systems directly, such as becoming a scientist to study the effects of manufacturing or products on human and environmental health.
Lori’s experience galvanized my desire to engage with the systems that control citizen’s access to fair treatment and fundamental human rights.
Personally, I have identified opportunities for project engagement and social cohesion building by focusing on how my personal and professional experiences can provide a new perspective. Some of these efforts are structured: I volunteer with nonprofits to share my fundraising expertise and mentor LGBTQ+ or first-generation/low-income university students. However, many of my advocacy efforts are at an interpersonal scale. The spaces I occupy and communities I am a part of today are fundamentally different from those I grew up in: urban, not rural; formally educated, not focused on skilled labor; liberal, not conservative. Living thousands of miles from the neighborhoods I grew up in, I seek out conversations that allow me to bridge my upbringing with my current communities to help create empathy across cultures. Lori’s experience galvanized my desire to engage with the systems that control citizen’s access to fair treatment and fundamental human rights. As I continue to cultivate my own activism, I am also focusing on building the communication and leadership skills through coursework, professional projects, and volunteer activities that will empower me to work across communities and bring constituents closer to decision makers.
Fifteen years after the Deepwater Horizon disaster, questions remain about what justice looks like for the individuals, communities, and corporations involved in man-made disasters. Lori is tired of a fight that forces her to revisit one of the most painful experiences of her life. But the work she has done is important, and there are many opportunities for us to use our talents to advocate for those harmed by the preferential treatment our legal system gives corporations. Over time, we can build a system that protects human health and safety, promotes innovation, and supports the advancement of environmental, economic, and social wealth for all.
Works Cited
“BP Gross Profit 2010-2024: BP.” Macrotrends. Deepwater Horizon Settlement Claims Administrator. “Deepwater Horizon Settlement.” Claims Administrator’s Status Updates, 6 May 2019.
Kwok, Richard K. et al. “Mental health indicators associated with oil spill response and clean-up: cross-sectional analysis of the Gulf Study cohort.” The Lancet Public Health, vol. 2, no. 12, e560-e567.
McGuire, Adam P., et al. “Social Support Moderates Effects of Natural Disaster Exposure on Depression and Post-traumatic Stress Disorder Symptoms: Effects for Displaced and Nondisplaced Residents.” Journal of Traumatic Stress, vol. 31, no. 2, pp. 223-233, 2018.
Raines, Ben. “BP Buys up Gulf Scientists for Legal Defense, Roiling Academic Community.” AL.com, 16 July 2010.
Sneath, Sara, and Oliver Laughland. “They Cleaned up BP’s Massive Oil Spill. Now They’re Sick–and Want Justice.” The Guardian, 20 Apr. 2023.
The United States District Court for the Eastern District of Louisiana. Plaisance, et al., Individually and on Behalf of the Medical Benefits Settlement Class v. BP Exploration & Production Inc., et al. 12 May 2012.
