The fall of Enron sounds the death knell for one of the great
rackets of the last decade: Green Seals of Approval, whereby some outfit
like the Natural Resources Defense Council or the Environmental Defense Fund
would issue testimonials to the enviro-conscience and selfless devotion to
the public weal of corporations like Enron. These green seals of approval
were part and parcel of the neoliberal pitch, that fuddy-duddy regulation
should yield to modern, "market-oriented" inducements to environmental
problems, to which indeed NRDC and EDF were always the prime salesfolk of
neoliberal remedies for environmental problems.
In fact, NRDC was socked deep into the Enron lobby machine. Here
's what happened:
In 1997, high-flying Enron found itself in a pitched battle in
Oregon, where it planned to acquire Portland General Electric, Oregon's
largest public utility. Warning that Enron's motives were of a highly
predatory nature, the staff of the state's Public Utility Commission opposed
the merger. They warned that an Enron takeover would mean less ability to
protect the environment, increased insecurity for PGE's workers and, in all
likelihood, soaring prices. There was also the matter of responsibility --
financial and supervisory -- for the decommissioning of the Trojan nuclear
plant.
Other critics argued that Enron's actual plan was to cannibalize
PGE, in particular, its hydropower, which Enron would sell into California's
energy market.
But at the very moment when such protests threatened to balk
Enron of its prize, into town rode NRDC's top energy commissar, Ralph
Cavanagh, Heinz environmental genius award pinned to his armor and flaunting
his ties to the Energy Foundation, a San Francisco-based outfit providing
the financial wattage for many of the citizen and environmental groups that
work on utility and enviro issues.
Cavanagh lost no time in whipping the refractory greens of
Oregon into line. In concert with Enron, the NRDC man put together a memo of
understanding that pledged that the company would lend financial support to
some of these groups' pet projects. But Cavanagh still had some arduous
politicking ahead. An OK for the merger had to come from the PUC, whose
staff was adamantly opposed. So, on Valentine's Day, 1997, Cavanagh showed
up at a hearing in Salem, Ore., to plead Enron's case.
Addressing the three PUC commissioners, he averred that this was
"the first time I've ever spoken in support of a utility merger." If so, it
was the quickest transition for virginity to seasoned performance in the
history of intellectual prostitution. Cavanagh flaunted the delights of an
embrace with Enron: "What we've put before you with this company is, we
believe, a robust assortment of public benefits for the citizens of Oregon
which would not emerge without the merger."
With a warble in his throat, Cavanagh moved into rhetorical high
gear: "The Oregonian asks the question, 'Can you trust Enron?' On
stewardship issues and public benefit issues I've dealt with this company
for a decade, often in the most contentious circumstances, and the answer
is, yes, you can trust Enron on those matters."
Cavanagh won the day for the Houston-based energy giant. The PUC
approved the merger, and it wasn't long before the darkest suspicions of
Enron's plans were vindicated. The company raised rates, tried to soak the
ratepayers with the cost of its failed Trojan nuclear reactor and moved to
put some of the company's most valuable assets on the block. Enron's motive
had indeed been to get access to the hydropower of the Northwest, the
cheapest in the country, selling it into the California market, the
priciest, and, now, in part because of Cavanagh's campaigning for
deregulation, ripest energy prize awaiting exploitation.
Then, after two years, the company Cavanagh had hailed as being
"engaged, motivated and committed" put PGE up on the auction block. Pending
sale, Enron has been using PGE as collateral for loans approved by the
federal bankruptcy judge.
Enron is best known as George Bush's prime financial backer in
his presidential quest. But it was a bipartisan purveyor of patronage: To
its right, the conservative Texas senator Phil Gramm, whose wife Wendy sat
on Enron's board; to its left, the liberal Texas Democrat Sheila
Jackson-Lee. Today, some House Republicans want to treat the Enron collapse
as a criminal matter, while Democrats have been talking in vaguer terms
about cleaning up accounting rules and plugging holes in the regulatory
system. The inability of Enron's employees to sell company stock from their
401Ks while higher-ups absconded with millions may doom Bush's promised
onslaught on Social Security. There are many morals in Enron's collapse, and
the role of that green seal of approval should not be forgotten.
Alexander Cockburn is coeditor with Jeffrey St Clair of the
muckraking newsletter CounterPunch. To find out more about Alexander
Cockburn and read features by other columnists and cartoonists, visit the
Creators Syndicate Web page at
www.creators.com.
COPYRIGHT 2001 CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC.
