Abstract
This book tells ugly truths, but the future can still be beautiful. That’s up to all of us. (p. 222)
This book is the work of two investigative journalists, whose stated aim is to investigate ‘the unstoppable rise of global corporate power and new infrastructure to protect it from rebellious peoples’ (p. 4). Their concern for the abuses of power by multinational corporations and the devastating effects of exploitation should be of interest to scholars working on a wide range of issues including business ethics, post-colonialism and political economy, among others. The book’s concern for the increasing concentration of corporate power and corporate imperialism is very much in the tradition of the investigative journalism of Gavin MacFadyen, Julian Assange, Chris Hedges, John Pilger and Seymour Hersh. Its critical worldview also holds much in common with corporate critics like Noam Chomsky, Charles Perrow and Joel Bakan in its revelation of corporate and political corruption. In the following review, I focus only on a few select points in Provost and Kennard’s wide-ranging investigation and critique of modern corporate power.
Corporate Power and the Legal System
A key theme of the book is the emergence of global institutions which buttress corporate power rather than benefitting the impoverished states or their citizens on behalf of which they were ostensibly created. As Provost and Kennard observe, ‘Beyond corporate profits, we saw how legal and welfare systems at the global levels also support corporate control and influence over societies’ (p. 4). One of the first such institutions the authors investigate is the International Centre for Settlement of Investment Disputes. The book explains how corporations can turn to this institution in order to sue countries in order to lobby for deregulation in pursuit of higher profits. Provost and Kennard show how numerous countries in the Global South have introduced new environmental regulations only to be sued – sometimes for hundreds of millions of dollars – by companies whose extractivist business models are threatened by the new regulations. Even when the countries win their legal cases, this can be very costly to the governments concerned. Often such cases arise after a progressive left-wing government comes to power, which then introduces improved environmental and worker protections or nationalizes valuable natural resources. Who needs the CIA to undermine progressive movements when the international legal system can serve corporate power just as effectively and arguably act with greater stealth?
These international investment disputes have seen companies object to the nationalization of industries, increased environmental protections, enhanced workers’ rights legislation and equal rights legislation. Commenting on the composition of the tribunals which oversee these lawsuits, Provost and Kennard quote the human rights lawyer John Ruggie, who has observed that they ‘are usually contract lawyers who don’t give a damn about human rights obligations’ (p. 27). Provost and Kennard give the example of Foresti vs South Africa, where the former took the South African government to court over its anti-apartheid reforms. Foresti demanded $350 million in compensation from the government of South Africa for its Black economic empowerment policies, which among other things had ‘mandated a 26 per cent ownership stake in mining companies for black South Africans’ (p. 30). While the company lost its case, the law was subsequently changed to reduce mandated Black ownership to a much lower figure of 5%. The authors conclude, ‘If a country can’t decide to reverse racist inequalities, can it call itself independent? Can it call itself a democracy?’ (p. 38).
Provost and Kennard observe that such international investment agreements emerged at the same time as anti-colonial movements had successfully led to the independence of numerous former European and United States colonies. This also led to notorious attempts by Western intelligence agencies to assassinate leaders of these newly independent countries and/or to destabilize their economies, where these new regimes had attempted to redistribute their countries’ resources in favour of their own populations rather than Western business interests. The rise of the new investment treaties and legal system for dispute resolution, supported by the World Bank and International Monetary Fund in the service of corporate power, was the ‘legal’ arm of imperial power, often used in combination with ‘hard’ techniques of state power such as assassination, invasion and regime change (e.g. see Perkins, 2004).
Another insightful example investigated is the case of the Swedish energy company Vattenfall, and its lawsuit against the German government. This lawsuit claimed $1.6 billion in damages for the company when the city of Hamburg introduced strict laws regulating river water temperatures of one of Vattenfall’s coal-fired power stations. Although the company did not get the damages it filed for, Germany ended up diluting its environmental standards, endangering the local ecosystem around the plant.
The book also highlights a worrying trend in the way that NGOs are being coopted by big business to further their profit-making activities under the guise of pursuing social and ethical goals, most notably, sustainable development goals. They quote the CEO of Unilever asserting that the company is the largest NGO in the world – ‘We’re a non-governmental organization. The only difference is we’re making money so we’re sustainable’ (p. 91). Such claims belie the fact that theprimary mission of this ‘NGO’ is the pursuit of profit, which often involves the production of all kinds of negative externalities and social costs. The authors note the company’s involvement in the slave trade and the Belgian Congo at the end of the 19th century, a period in which about 10 million Congolese were murdered or worked to death by various European business projects. A more recent evaluation of this so-called NGO’s business conduct, summarized by the Ethical Consumer (2020), explains that it is responsible for ‘ongoing workers’ rights abuses’ in numerous parts of its supply chain as well as engaging in unsustainable deforestation.
Corporate Power and the Rise of Special Economic Zones
Provost and Kennard move on to analyse the emergence of ‘special economic zones’ which are subject to low tax and other forms of government support. Referring to the work of Patrick Neveling, they observe how such zones have been used by modern corporations as a ‘postcolonial endeavour’ (quoted on p. 123), where the benefits of economic development are largely absorbed by the company, but the various risks – e.g. environmental damage, poor health and safety practices, low wages, precarious labour and so on – are absorbed by the local population. In a fascinating potted history of the rise of special economic zones they trace the origin of this practice to the town of Shannon in Ireland. Ireland passed the 1947 Customs Free Airport Act, which facilitated the creation of a special economic zone around air travel through Shannon. The authors observe that ‘the Free Zone only covered about one square mile of land – though its influence internationally had been disproportionate’ (p. 127). Similar economic rules were gradually extended to the rest of the country with the emergence of neoliberal economic policies. They note in passing that Shannon airport was later used as part of the CIA’s rendition network. Other countries around the globe began to copy this model, with consultants from Shannon acting as advisors. Special economic zones spread throughout China, India and other developing countries, often under authoritarian political conditions, hostile to union activism and democratic protest.
Corporate Imperialism and Militarization
The latter chapters of the book investigate the complicity of numerous multinational companies in coups to topple democratically elected politicians who were deemed to be against their business interests. They trace the United Fruit Company’s involvement in the coup in Guatemala, and human rights violations in Guatemala, Colombia and elsewhere. They discuss the collusion of the mining companies Drummond and Glencore with paramilitary groups which have murdered unionists and activists in Colombia. They reveal the complicity of the International Finance Corporation – a branch of the World Bank – with many companies involved in such human rights violations, an analysis rigorously backed up with historical documentary evidence and interviews with local unionists and social movement activists. These investigations complement the work of other journalists and human rights activists who have revealed the role of corporations in human rights violations, for example Coca Cola’s complicity in the murder of union activists in Colombia (Thomas, 2008), BP’s role in the coup against Mossadegh in Iran, ITT’s role in the military coup in Chile in 1973 (Kornbluh, 2003), and Shell’s complicity in the murder of Ken Saro-Wiwa and other oil protestors in Nigeria (Amnesty International, 2017).
The authors observe a rise in the role of private military contractors both in modern wars and in private security arrangements for wealthy individuals and large corporations – many new companies having been set up by former members of the special forces. There has been a proliferation of private military contractors such as Blackwater in the US and the Wagner group in Russia who run increasingly outsourced imperial wars – often becoming embroiled in corruption and war crimes. The authors coin the term ‘informal imperialism’ which has been developed by corporations and states following the end of the Cold War. They explain that ‘British companies were at the forefront of this industry, selling security and profiting from the threat of violable worldwide’ (p. 208).
The authors conclude the book by observing that ‘Our investigations had shown us how transnational companies and investors have been able to challenge, even overrule, various state actions – and threaten our ability to respond to existential threats like climate change and atomic war’ (p. 219). The book is a call to reinvigorate both investigative journalism and progressive democratic activism. It highlights the continuing growth and concentration of corporate power along with the structural features of contemporary capitalism which foster corruption, undermining our democratic polities and our ability to respond to structural threats to our existence.
This book contains a great deal of material of interest to scholars working on issues such as business ethics, post-colonialism and political economy. It provides novel insights into the mutations of the international legal system in supporting the growth of corporate power. It will be of interest to those studying business ethics and addressing the widespread negative externalities of corporations, such as pollution, climate change, financial corruption and human rights violations (see also Rhodes, Munro, Thanem, & Pullen, 2020). Its investigation of the increasing militarization of corporate empires also provides insights into what Banerjee (2008) has termed ‘necrocapitalism’. As Banerjee (2008, p. 1541) explains, necrocapitalism entails ‘contemporary forms of organizational accumulation that involve dispossession and the subjugation of life to the power of death.’ Provost and Kennard provide valuable insights into contemporary necrocapitalist practice, detailing evidence of the impoverishment of indigenous peoples by corporations, the ongoing devastation of the environment, as well the increasing role of private military companies in both corporate security and modern warfare. The book is also an essential text for scholars in the field of critical management studies, some of whose works are drawn on in its analysis. I cannot recommend this book highly enough. Read it.