‘Coal King’ deserved a harsher sentence
Just a day after the sixth anniversary of the blast at the Upper Big Branch Mine in West Virginia that killed 29 workers, Donald Blankenship, the former CEO of Massey Energy, the mine’s owner, was finally on the receiving end of justice.
In a Charleston, W.Va., courthouse Wednesday, Judge Irene Berger sentenced Blankenship to one year in prison and a $250,000 fine, the maximum punishment the deposed “coal king” could receive for conspiring to violate mine-safety rules. Believe it or not, being a party to such a conspiracy remains a misdemeanor offense.
Just 12 months. After serving his time, Blankenship will regain his freedom and be able to enjoy his fortune, which is said to be in the millions of dollars. For the contempt he showed to his employees and to the law, the 66-year-old deserved much worse.
Berger told Blankenship at his sentencing, “You, Mr. Blankenship, created a culture of noncompliance at Upper Big Branch where your subordinates accepted and, in fact, encouraged unsafe working conditions in order to reach profitability and production targets.”
Indeed, Blankenship’s singular obsession with profit over any other concern makes him seem like a villain from a Charles Dickens or Upton Sinclair novel. While at the helm of Massey Energy, Blankenship was so fixated on the bottom line, he demanded production updates every 30 minutes. Pittsburgh attorney David Fawcett, who represented companies that filed lawsuits against Blankenship told the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review last year, “If he felt he could make more money by breaching a contract or (violating safety and environmental standards), it was automatic. He did it.”
In fact, when autopsies were conducted on the 29 miners who died in the Upper Big Branch explosion, which occurred when sparks from a cutting machine ignited coal dust, it was found 71 percent had black lung disease. Considering the industry average is now 3.2 percent, thanks to years of hard lessons and increased regulation, that almost three of four victims of the Upper Big Branch tragedy already were suffering from black lung is surely no coincidence.
And the horrors at Upper Big Branch have been compounded by the fact lawmakers seem to have learned nothing from them. To cite one example, Kentucky’s Senate is considering a measure that would end state safety inspections of mines, leaving that task entirely to federal regulators who don’t visit as frequently and don’t have the same subpoena powers. Proponents of the bill are claiming it’s fiscally responsible because there are fewer mines, given the ongoing decline of the coal industry, but it defies common sense that the regulation of the remaining mines should be relaxed.
Efforts to make mines safer have also languished on Capitol Hill. A bill that would have given cover to whistleblowers, broadened subpoena power, and made heedless mine owners subject to harsher penalties has gone nowhere, thanks in no small part to opposition from the National Association of Manufacturers and the U.S. Chamber of Commerce.
After all the customary solemn pronouncements after Upper Big Branch, it’s pretty much been back to business as usual.
At least we can rest assured Blankenship will never set the stage for another miner’s death. But can we be confident that no one else will come along and mimic his lethal practices.