September, 2015

Each historical era propels societies forward at different speeds. The concept of modernity suggests that time accelerates, and with it, the progress of civilizations. Under this somewhat idealistic view, the current century is regarded as the most dynamic, fluid, and fast-paced in history. It has even been dubbed, in a nod to the Enlightenment, the “century of flows and globalization.”

Yet, the 21st century, rather than marking a fresh chapter, carries a heavy burden that threatens the continuity of its momentum: the burden of oil. The use of this hydrocarbon, adopted and adapted throughout the 20th century, is now in crisis. This term aptly describes a crossroads riddled with uncertainty where continuing the existing model could lead to catastrophic consequences, particularly environmental ones, though economic and social impacts are equally pressing.

The industrial discovery and exploitation of oil date back to August 1859 in Titusville, Pennsylvania. However, two pivotal factors driving its rise emerged in the 20th century. The first was the substitution of coal with oil in military machinery, and the second was the mass production and adoption of automobiles, whose internal combustion engines required—and still demand—gasoline to operate. Additionally, petrochemical developments have ensured that nearly everything we interact with today has ties to oil.

Thus, even in an era of global nodes and flows, oil remains essential for connectivity. Beyond its dominance in the energy matrix, the political frameworks underpinning the oil industry continue to echo historical patterns.

One such enduring framework is the close symbiosis between corporations and the state. In the 21st century, this relationship remains so entrenched that it has excluded other stakeholders, despite contemporary ideals of governance and inclusion. Oil-related affairs continue to be shrouded in secrecy, with society participating only as consumers, not as decision-makers. A clear example is Mexico's Energy Reform (Reforma Energética, RE), which, despite efforts to subject it to a public referendum, was blocked by legal mechanisms orchestrated by the state.

This gap must be addressed. Energy, as a strategic pillar of a national economy, should not be divorced from public concern. Moreover, the state must prioritize recovering, preserving, or strengthening what has been termed "petroleum power." According to Bonilla and Suárez (2008), this concept encompasses five components: (1) reserves, (2) capital, (3) technology, (4) research, and (5) knowledge.

The Energy Reform appears to be more a consequence of the decline of Mexico's petroleum power than a testament to its strength. Based on the first two phases of Round 1’s bidding process, it seems that among these five components, the only aspect that benefits is extraction, with a potential boost to reserves. The remaining elements, however, remain fragmented.

Much more remains to be said about oil—a key purpose of this blog is to contribute to that discussion. However, I want to close this entry with a reflection on the notion of petroleum independence, prompted by the recent Mexican Independence Day celebrations.

In 1968, Jacques Bergier and Bernhard Thomas warned France of the importance of creating an independent energy system free from the dominance of major Anglo-Saxon trusts. They highlighted the nation's reliance on the vessels, infrastructure, and capital of French subsidiaries of Shell, Standard Oil of New Jersey, and Gulf Oil.

While times have changed since the Cold War, the profit-driven nature of oil corporations has not waned. In the 21st century, globalization, neoliberalism, and transnationalism bring new concerns, all rooted in the absence of a national, independent energy system—a reality foreseen for France half a century ago.

Mexico currently faces adverse scenarios in its oil sector. Beyond the challenge of low prices, the first phase of Round 1's bidding was a failure, with only two of 14 exploratory blocks awarded. The market likely rejected the risks associated with exploration, underscoring Mexico's weakened petroleum power. This outcome reveals the extractivist aspirations of major international oil companies while leaving critical questions about Mexico's energy future unanswered.

June, 2016

The optimism surrounding the enactment of Mexico's Energy Reform in late 2013 quickly gave way to a more sobering reality. An unexpected and sustained decline in international oil prices dampened the initial enthusiasm, redirecting attention to the vulnerabilities inherent in an oil-dependent economy.

Since the 1980s, the price per barrel of oil has served as a barometer for the health of the hydrocarbon industry. Its fluctuations ripple across national economies, influencing budgetary decisions, economic stability, and employment. The 2014-2016 oil price crisis underscored this reality, as declining prices led to widespread layoffs and corporate cost-cutting measures.

For instance, Schlumberger, a leading oilfield services company, responded to the downturn by laying off 9,000 workers in early 2015. This number ballooned to 34,000 by January 2016, amounting to 25% of its global workforce. Although the exact geographical distribution of these layoffs remains unclear, the scale highlights the precarious nature of the industry and its broader socioeconomic impacts.

Masoud Movahed, a development economist, describes this dynamic as a symptom of capitalism's relentless pursuit of competitiveness. To survive in volatile markets, companies prioritize cost reduction, often at the expense of social and environmental concerns. Layoffs become a survival strategy, but the expelled workforce faces significant hardships, akin to a hemorrhage draining the vitality from the body it once nourished.

The social costs of these layoffs are stark. Displaced oil workers and contractors find themselves excluded from an industry that once offered financial stability and social mobility. While a future recovery in oil prices may reinvigorate the industry, the personal and financial sacrifices made by those affected cannot be undone.

The timing of oil price recovery remains uncertain. Even if prices stabilize in the near future, the scars left by this downturn—both economic and psychological—will linger. The broader lesson is clear: reliance on volatile commodities like oil exposes economies and individuals to recurring cycles of boom and bust.

This reality calls for diversification strategies, social safety nets, and a long-term commitment to transitioning away from extractivist models. Without these measures, the structural vulnerabilities of oil-dependent economies will continue to exact a heavy toll on their societies.

February, 2016

In energy matters, territory is of paramount importance. Without it, the geopolitical dynamics surrounding oil would cease to have relevance. Oil, as a strategic resource since the mid-20th century, has necessitated a rigid territoriality to facilitate its extraction and production processes.

Territoriality Defined
Territoriality encompasses both material and symbolic dimensions. The material aspect refers to physical control—dominion over land where resources are located or transported. The symbolic dimension, by contrast, pertains to the cultural and ideological constructs that reinforce or justify such control. This latter dimension, often explored through anthropological perspectives, reveals how the oil industry has sought to create cultural codes to sustain its production model or, at the very least, hinder narratives that might challenge it.

For instance, official rhetoric often links oil to progress, glossing over the extensive environmental and social damage caused by intensive extraction practices. This framing not only elevates hydrocarbons as economic assets but also ascribes a similar value to the territories they occupy, transforming them into contested spaces within the global economic system.

Actors and Alliances in Territorial Competition
Traditionally, nation-states have been the primary players in the competition for resources and territory. However, transnational corporations now operate alongside states, forming alliances that advance their mutual interests. This collaboration creates what can be described as multidimensional territorialities, combining physical control with ideological influence.

An example of symbolic territoriality can be found in the lobbying efforts by oil companies to delay climate action. Political scientist Susan George highlights how, toward the end of the 20th century, oil and automotive companies coalesced to establish a network of experts tasked with denying the existence of climate change.

This effort was designed to delay the adoption of symbolic codes that might hold the energy sector accountable for impending environmental catastrophes. Between 1990 and 2000, corporations like Exxon and British Petroleum were part of the Global Climate Coalition, an organization dedicated to preventing initiatives aimed at reducing greenhouse gas emissions.

Government Involvement in Symbolic Territoriality
While the coalition's goal was ultimately thwarted by the rise of scientific panels confirming climate change (e.g., the Union of Concerned Scientists), the role of government in supporting the industry’s agenda was unmistakable. A key figure in this dynamic was Philip Cooney, who led the U.S. Council on Environmental Quality until 2005. Cooney was accused of editing official reports to downplay human responsibility for climate change. His resignation from the council was followed—unsurprisingly—by his immediate hiring at Exxon.

Territoriality in Mexico: Current Challenges
In Mexico, the construction of both symbolic and material territorialities continues. While environmental and social impact studies for oil projects have begun to be implemented, the challenge remains in ensuring their rigor and independence. If these studies are manipulated to downplay impacts—reminiscent of the Cooney case—their effectiveness will be limited, leaving local communities as passive observers in a system that marginalizes their concerns and needs.

The persistent entanglement of symbolic and material control underscores the importance of transparency and accountability in oil governance. Without them, territoriality will remain a mechanism of exclusion, perpetuating inequalities while reinforcing the hegemony of the extractive industry.

June, 2016

On December 15, 2015, the National Hydrocarbons Commission (CNH) held the third call of Round 1, during which 25 oil fields were put up for bidding. This phase garnered attention for several reasons.

The 25 fields tendered were all onshore and located in the states of Chiapas, Tabasco, Veracruz, Tamaulipas, and Nuevo León. Unlike the previous two rounds, which focused on shallow waters, the allocation of these fields for private extraction introduces greater potential for social tensions. This stems from the expectations raised by the initiation and intensification of infrastructure projects, a sector offering significant employment opportunities for residents near the extraction sites.

It is worth noting that some areas, such as Moloacán in Veracruz (covering 42 km²), lie in regions historically marked by high-impact oil activities (Coatzacoalcos is just 30 kilometers away). This proximity raises expectations of economic revitalization, to the extent that regional politicians have promoted private initiatives as a solution to unemployment. However, predicting such outcomes is precarious in the absence of adequate training mechanisms to develop a workforce specialized in the oil industry.

While oil operations in the Moloacán field began as early as 1948, the perspective of the local population differs significantly from that of a consolidated oil region. Of the field's original oil reserves, only 18% (40 million of 222 million barrels) has been extracted. This limited activity has been interpreted by residents and local authorities as abandonment by the state-owned company. In 2013, the mayor of Moloacán urged the company to support local development, warning that otherwise, “the people will protest to demand what is rightfully theirs.”

This raises an important question: what exactly is owed to the people? In other oil-producing regions like Tabasco, experiences show that extractivism's social contributions rarely exceed road construction and compensation payments. These approaches not only perpetuate unsustainable dynamics but also foster a perverse logic that polarizes local populations. Is this the future that Moloacán deserves? If not, then what should it be?

In Mexico, examples of sustainable productive projects supported by oil activities are scarce, and their long-term success remains uncertain. However, such initiatives aim to establish mechanisms that, even within the context of extractivism, can foster local development—for instance, by adding value to the region's productive activities. In essence, this means leveraging oil revenues to diversify the economy away from dependence on oil, moving beyond the view of extractivism as a solution to economic, social, and environmental challenges.

The major obstacle is that extractive companies are unlikely to willingly accept or promote the reduction of their own activities. Thus, during the transition toward a post-extractive model, the dignity of human life must take center stage. In this endeavor, the role of non-governmental organizations, social organizations, and participatory governance will be crucial.

April, 2016

A central concern of political ecology is to uncover the power dynamics at play in the appropriation of natural resources. In the case of Mexico's oil industry, these power relationships have historically been orchestrated by the government. As a state-owned company, Petróleos Mexicanos (PEMEX) has benefited from political backing to initiate and perpetuate extractive logics in various territories across southeastern Mexico.

However, extractivist practices have often been marked by mechanisms of exclusion toward local populations residing in areas with oil deposits. As noted in Latin American scholarship on political ecology, the establishment of an extractive activity, such as oil drilling, frequently lays the groundwork for tension-filled scenarios involving various stakeholders.

These tensions become even more complex when power is exercised through coercive force. In Tabasco, for instance, this dynamic played out during the mid-1980s when police and military forces intervened in cases where landowners, ejido members, and farmers opposed the installation of oil flares on their lands.

Beyond the use of police and military intervention, conflicts in Tabasco have centered on negotiations for compensation payments. One notable example was the "Pacto Ribereño," a social movement that demanded reparations for the damages caused to agricultural and livestock assets. At that time, two economic activities were in direct opposition: agriculture and oil extraction. The latter, bolstered by substantial political support and financial and institutional resources, ultimately prevailed.

After 30 years of oil extractivism in Tabasco, conflicts persist because the dynamics of exclusion have not been addressed. Oil exploitation continues to benefit only a select few, while many communities remain marginalized.

Today, instead of a unified and institutionalized social movement, various interest groups have emerged, employing diverse tactics to react against the dominant logic. These groups aim to secure economic and personal gains from hydrocarbon extraction—sometimes through illegal means that put their lives at grave risk.

One of the most prevalent tactics is fuel theft. Within this phenomenon, two scales of operation can be distinguished: organized criminal networks engaged in large-scale fuel trafficking, supported by extensive financial and logistical resources; and smaller groups of individuals who, driven by unemployment and precarious living conditions, see oil as a means to supplement their income.

Focusing on this second group, Tabasco has witnessed significant fuel theft activity. Between January and September 2015, 301 clandestine pipeline taps were reported (Presente. Diario del Sureste, 2016). The primary concern, however, lies not in the statistics but in the physical dangers faced by those who carry out—though do not orchestrate—these illegal siphoning activities. This was tragically demonstrated by the death of five individuals in a pipeline explosion in December 2015.

In an effort to address this issue, the theft of hydrocarbons was elevated to a federal crime in January 2016, carrying a penalty of up to 25 years in prison. However, for local pipeline thefts in Tabasco, this legal measure appears to have little effect. The reason is simple: communities in oil-producing municipalities do not perceive fuel theft as a crime worth reporting.

Like other actions—such as road blockades or the occupation of oil facilities—fuel theft has become a practice that local populations have normalized and reproduced, viewing it as a marginal means of benefiting from oil wealth that institutional channels have rendered inaccessible to them. Images even show minors participating in these activities, underscoring how this behavior has become an informal mechanism to exploit resources that, through formal institutions, remain distant and out of reach for these communities.