30 November, 2020

Dear Bernard,

My suggestion may seem somewhat strange and even unexpected at first, but that is only at first glance – from the standpoint of today’s familiar realities. It is very measured and specific, and it summarizes meticulous observations from recent years, reflecting the axiological component of its long-overdue relevance. The suggestion is this: announce the dissolution of bp. Disband the Company.

In light of this suggestion, my own departure (EOI) seems only natural. But unlike the logic behind most exits in the corporate world – where every step is calculated with career advancement in mind and aimed at satisfying ever-growing financial ambitions – I am not transitioning to another company or moving into a different sphere of business. I am leaving the System altogether: the system of modern-day slavery – presentable, unobtrusive, but, unlike in the classical era, one that captures the minds of people who have been misled into believing in the supposed nobility of such self-sacrifice.

Believe me, it is not the Company’s intrinsic appeal that keeps its denizens tethered to it. Having once struck a pact with a refined, contemporary Mephistopheles, most simply feel compelled to cling on – resisting, adapting, and shape-shifting to survive the endless spectacle of the corporate theatre. And since the show must go on, one must endlessly perform.

Even at the top – where encouraging memos are broadcast urbi et orbi, accompanied by smiling portraits attached to emails – the performance persists. Smiles conceal the uneasy gaze cast upon a subdued congregation… one that, truth be told, seems ready for anything.

Setting aside the absurdity of the internal machinery I’ve mentioned earlier, I will point out that during my time in the Company, the only certainty I have witnessed is the ever-escalating pressure exerted on the staff. With each passing day, they are driven deeper into a ceaseless cycle of frantic activity, subjected to relentless demands for ever-improving results, despite their tireless efforts. Ultimately, this only generates a trivial, futile frenzy of inadequately fulfilling tasks. In this absurdity – propelled in part by the unhealthy zeal of local management layers over-decorating the bp space – there is something eerily reminiscent of Chekhov’s Ward No. 6, where the strong endure, the careerists manipulate, and the weak slowly lose their minds.

At the same time, it’s not difficult to understand that beyond mere inefficiency, such a dystopia robs people of the very essence of their work: the sense of its desirability. With each moment of mounting pressure, this truth becomes painfully simple and clear. I find it hard to call them happy. Perhaps you might find a more optimistic definition for the community you are shaping – but only if you ignore the fact that any material has a critical breaking point. Cynical? Perhaps. But such is the reality you nurture. A guaranteed stable salary, combined with the comforting balm of additional numbing injections (credit support, shares, bonuses, funds), only drags the staff deeper into the mire of dependence on the Company, while it continuously upholds its so-called bp values. In the end, this cultivates a workforce that is obedient, linguistically and behaviorally uniform – one that unconsciously suppresses the tension of its internal conflict, yet fully understands the sacrificial cost of the bonuses it so eagerly acquires, all presented against the shiny backdrop of ideological slogans. This can only be explained in one way: if what you need is a compliant mass of softly but impeccably zombified performers – bp people – material devoid of a breaking point.

Meanwhile, work should morally enrich, not drain.

Another, no less obvious factor that inevitably brings one to the understanding that bp must cease its operations is the unnaturalness of oil and gas extraction from the Earth’s depths – a practice fundamentally opposed to the nature of the environment from which it is taken. Burning fossil fuels to generate energy in the 21st century is barbarism – the mark of a poorly organized civilization. And it is doubly savage when driven by base profit, cynically labeled “business.” The dead-end nature of this model has been written and spoken about so extensively that repeating it here would feel absurd. Yet there are a few very specific points worth mentioning in the context of this proposal.

The Company’s repeated statements about prioritizing environmental challenges are pure mockery – a convoluted paradox: you yourselves are creating these challenges, only to turn around and so elegantly present them to the world as the very things you are fighting. Stop creating them just to fight them later, proclaiming such efforts as your number one priority in an absurdist show under the decorative, folk-art banner of HSE Policy. Leave the oil where it rests, and the challenges will disappear on their own – not only the environmental ones, but, over time, economic, political, social, and who knows what other spheres will begin to find resolution. We all know what fighting windmills really leads to. The events in the Gulf of Mexico and similar tragedies are just the tip of the iceberg compared to the scale of potential consequences, fueled by a smoldering fuse of time that continues to tick away. We are talking about long-term effects – consequences whose irreversibility may already be predetermined.

Once, I had the opportunity to visit offshore oil platforms, where I deliberately chose to work in order to place myself at the heart of the process. I witnessed firsthand the psychological atmosphere in which people live, day and night, within a uniquely self-enclosed dystopia grimly supported by the drilling wells that burrow into the Earth. Around their concentrated, trunk-like cluster, one can almost physically sense the anomalous energy of the space, brushing against the power of the awakened Underworld, whose roar and hum reverberate through the contours of the mines intruding into its depths. It is no surprise that the mood in such environments constantly teeters on the brink of breakdown. In that setting, it is more natural than abnormal. Their existence is inherently unnatural. And what else can be expected, when infernal energy is being drawn from the Underworld through an iron island under immense pressure? As long as we control it, we rape the Earth. When it slips from our control, it rapes us. The activities of an oil and gas company essentially embody humanity’s Oedipus complex toward the Earth.

There is no doubt that your decision of February 12th this year to reformat the company from an oil (IOC) to an energy (IEC) company may appear to be a progressive step toward net zero. You stand as a bold pioneer compared to other oil companies. However, given current global events, it feels more like a cruel joke. This decision came at least ten years too late – and even so, it was partly undermined by your own letter of August 4th, which clearly states that bp has no intention of abandoning oil as such: “Hydrocarbons will be integral to bp for decades to come. They are a core part of our strategy. In fact, they enable the strategy.”

It’s hard to comment on this within the framework of any serious notion of green energy. Given the stated prospects for 2050, it becomes entirely clear: bp, having so far tarnished this Earth, will continue to do so. The only difference is that now it will do so under a more beautiful banner – reimagining energy.

To say that halting such activities is of fundamental importance to any concept of harmonious coexistence between humanity and nature – without which a person cannot be morally whole – is to say almost nothing at all. The Corporation’s activities are inextricably, if invisibly, linked to many other spheres whose destructive manifestations contribute to the ongoing self-destruction of our absurdly constructed civilization. The liquidation of such a system – or at least its evolution – is undeniably a colossal task. For bp, this is further complicated by the fact that the company is responsible for people who have worked within its system for many years, acquiring only those skills that are specific to its operations. Some of them can no longer imagine themselves outside bp, having tied their professional lives to the Company. In the event of its self-liquidation, the question of responsibility for their futures will naturally arise.

In my humble opinion, it would be far more just to use the Corporation’s accumulated funds to provide for its “lifelong” oil workers and office clerks, rather than to pay dividends to shareholders who have no real understanding of the labor whose hardships remain abstract to them. Involuntary wage slavery (where people work out of despair rather than love for their work) is an obvious relic of the near future and deserves to be abolished now – and the staff, at the very least, deserve a few years of carefree rest. Believe me, not all bp employees are career opportunists or unscrupulous protégés of influential illusionists.

I understand that you are not in a position to make such radical decisions independently; that you are merely a high-ranking executor of the clients behind you. But I do not know the people to whom you are accountable – their addresses or names. So I am addressing this to you.

It’s difficult to imagine the full consequences of the hypothetical events that would follow such a decision. But the game is worth the candle. You have the chance to turn a new page in History. The departure of the Company from the stage will not solve everything at once – and of course, its place will quickly be taken by greedy competitors. But the value of such a step lies in other dimensions, and includes its unprecedented nature, capable of initiating a chain of deferred events. A unique act could become the trigger for global change in the near future – and unlike your restless competitors, both you and the name of the Corporation would be etched into History. And Eternity demands a special price.

All major events in human history always seemed highly unlikely before they happened. But any tectonic shift begins with a first push – including in consciousness. The only question is when that first effort will be made. And by whom.