For Big Oil’s Future, Look To Big Tobacco’s Past
There’s plenty of money to be made from oil before the dirty fuel is no longer needed, just as there has been from cigarettes.
There’s plenty of money to be made from oil before the dirty fuel is no longer needed, just as there has been from cigarettes.
If you want to know the future of Big Oil, look to the past of Big Tobacco. Depending on who you believe, they will be either greenwashed money machines or transformed businesses dedicated to reversing the damage done by their old products to the planet and health. Confusingly, they might be both.
From the 1980s until a few years ago, Big Tobacco was a money machine. Cigarette sales fell a little pretty much every year, but prices rose more than enough to compensate and profit margins were, well, to die for. New technology changed everything. The development of e-cigarettes, and to a lesser extent heated tobacco, overthrew the business model and the marketing. Now, Big Tobacco is trying to present itself as a leader on environmental, social and governance issues—and even health.
“We think of ourselves as having an ‘H+’ ESG strategy: ‘H’ for health,” says Kingsley Wheaton, chief marketing officer at British American Tobacco, or BAT, the biggest tobacco company by sales. “It’s the sine qua non of our transformation.”
ESG, environmental, social and governance investing, has swept into the world of finance and according to its adherents can help change the world. I’ve taken a critical look at the ESG trend in a series of Streetwise columns. Tobacco offers a guide because 40 years ago it faced similar challenges from investors who took a moral stance against its products and governments who wanted to tax and regulate it out of existence.
Oil has proved as addictive for the economy as nicotine is to smokers. Environmentalists and governments want to wean customers on to alternatives, especially electric cars but potentially also hydrogen or simply lower consumption. Just as the prospect of ever-increasing regulations, combined with limits on marketing, made it almost impossible to launch a new tobacco company, the prospect of action on fossil fuels has hit investment in new drilling. Many investors believe the limited expansion of supply means high oil prices could last.
The oil industry and its investors are now split between the two approaches taken by Big Tobacco.
On one side are those who think the route to lower oil consumption will look like tobacco did from the 1980s to the 2000s. Volumes will fall but higher prices will boost profit margins. Addicted customers meant that cigarette sales continued even when marketing spending was slashed due to legal restrictions. Gasoline sales will continue for many years, but oil companies might not spend the vast sums they did in the past exploring and drilling new wells, leading to higher prices and fatter margins even as existing wells are run down.
As with tobacco, this strategy cannot last forever—but if governments are serious about their 2050 net-zero emissions promises, there’s no future in drilling anyway. And in the meantime the oil companies could pay shareholders the fat dividends offered for decades by tobacco stocks.
Most of the firms following this strategy are privately-held, buying assets being sold off by listed companies trying to cut their emissions. In practice, emissions simply continue under new ownership. But creating a standalone limited-life oil producer was part of the pitch of hedge fund activist Daniel Loeb, who is pushing to break up British oil major Shell.
On the other side are oil majors, mainly in Europe, who think the future involves a steady switch from oil to new energy such as wind farms. Just as with Big Tobacco recently, they are using some of the profits from selling oil to pour money into the new areas.
Like Big Tobacco, these oil companies trumpet their environmental projects, as well as social projects and corporate governance. That disgusts activists, who label it “greenwashing,” designed to distract customers and investors from the harm they do. BAT even removed the word “tobacco” from its brand in 2020, as well as dropping the tobacco leaf from its logo and adding the slogan “A Better Tomorrow.”
“Despite all the prominence the newly re-branded BAT is placing on ESG, what is quite clear is that although the leopard may have changed the colours of its spots from black to green, BAT is still a leopard,” says Andy Rowell from the Tobacco Control Research Group at the University of Bath in England.
Mr. Wheaton bridled at the suggestion that its efforts were all about distraction, during an interview at BAT’s London headquarters. “If you knew the sheer energy that goes into building the new business you wouldn’t think it was greenwashing,” he said. “When you leave the office I’m not going to say ‘hahaha, he believed all of it’.”
At least some of the agencies that rate companies on ESG characteristics do believe it. BAT last year was ranked as third-best in the FTSE 100 by Refinitiv, and Sustainalytics, part of Morningstar, rates it medium risk, 88th out of 598 companies it rates in what it calls the “food products” industry globally. S&P Global thinks BAT is among the best tobacco companies, while MSCI doesn’t buy the story, rating BAT as only average within the tobacco industry. But MSCI thinks Shell is great for an oil company, giving it AA, its second-best rating, while Refinitiv says Shell has the best governance in the world.
The historic arguments used by both industries developed the same way: first, denial (of cancer or climate change), then fierce lobbying campaigns to head off restrictive laws, in some cases triggering accusations of outright bribery. The current argument is that people will want or need cigarettes and fossil fuels for many years, so they need to be provided – and are better provided by a big public company than by private firms with no transparency.
Some in Big Tobacco have reached the acceptance stage, that eventually cigarettes will vanish, and their business needs to change or die. Not every oil company is there yet, but the debate is on. Shell and others in Europe are spending heavily on change. But at least some investors prefer the die option, with fat profits to be made along the way and perhaps a longer life than environmentalists wish.
ESG investors expecting big carbon emitters to get their just deserts should think again. There’s plenty of money to be made from oil before the dirty fuel is no longer needed, just as there has been from cigarettes. And that money might end up going to investors who just don’t care about ESG.
Reprinted by permission of The Wall Street Journal, Copyright 2021 Dow Jones & Company. Inc. All Rights Reserved Worldwide. Original date of publication: Jan 27, 2022.
Consumers are going to gravitate toward applications powered by the buzzy new technology, analyst Michael Wolf predicts
Chris Dixon, a partner who led the charge, says he has a ‘very long-term horizon’
U.S. employees are more dissatisfied than they were in the thick of the pandemic
Americans, by many measures, are unhappier at work than they have been in years.
Despite wage increases, more paid time off and greater control over where they work, the number of U.S. workers who say they are angry, stressed and disengaged is climbing, according to Gallup’s 2023 workplace report. Meanwhile, a BambooHR analysis of data from more than 57,000 workers shows job-satisfaction scores have fallen to their lowest point since early 2020, after a 10% drop this year alone.
In interviews with workers around the country, it is clear the unhappiness is part of a rethinking of work life that began in 2020. The sources of workers’ discontent range from inflation, which is erasing much of recent pay gains, to the still-unsettled nature of the workday. People chafe against being micromanaged back to offices, yet they also find isolating aspects of hybrid and remote work. A cooling job market—especially in white-collar roles—is leaving many professionals feeling stuck.
Companies have largely moved on from pandemic operating mode, cutting costs and renewing a focus on productivity. The disconnect with workers has managers frustrated, and no quick fix seems to be at hand. Those in charge said they have given staff more money, flexibility and support, only to come up short.
The experiences of workers like Lindsey Leesmann suggest how expectations have shifted from just a few years ago. Leesmann, 38 years old, said she soured on a philanthropy job after having to return to the office two days a week earlier this year.
Prepandemic, she would have been happy working three days a week at home. “It would have been a dream come true.” Still, her team’s in-office requirements seemed like going backward, and made her feel that her professionalism and work quality were in doubt. Instead of collaborating more, she and others rarely left their desks, except for meetings or lunch, she said. Negative feelings followed her home on her hourlong commute, leaving her short-tempered with her kids.
“You try to keep work and home separate, but that sort of stuff is just impacting your mental health so much,” said Leesmann, who recently moved to a new job that requires five in-office days a month.
The discontent has business leaders struggling for answers, said Stephan Scholl, chief executive of Alight Solutions, a technology company focused on benefits and payroll administration. Many of the Fortune 100 companies on Alight’s client list boosted spending on employee benefits such as mental health, child care and well-being bonuses by 20% over the pandemic years.
“All that extra spend has not translated into happier employees,” Scholl said. In an Alight survey of 2,000 U.S. employees this year, 34% said they often dread starting their workday—an 11-percentage-point rise since 2020. Corporate clients have told him mental-health claims and costs from employee turnover are rising.
One factor is the share of workers who are relatively new to their roles after record levels of job-switching, said Benjamin Granger, chief workplace psychologist at software company Qualtrics. Many employers have focused more on hiring than situating new employees well, leaving many newbies feeling adrift. In other cases, workers discovered shiny-seeming new jobs weren’t a great fit.
The upshot is that the newest workers are among the least satisfied, Qualtrics data show—a reversal of the higher levels of enthusiasm that fresh hires typically voice. In its study of nearly 37,000 workers published last month, people less than six months into a job reported lower levels of engagement, feelings of inclusion and intent to stay than longer-tenured workers. They also scored lower on those metrics than new workers in 2022, suggesting the pay raises that lured many people to new jobs might not be as satisfying as they were a year or two ago.
“What happened to that honeymoon phase?” Granger said.
John Shurr, a 66-year-old former manufacturing engineer, took a job as an inventory manager at a heavy-equipment retailer in the spring in Missoula, Mont., after being laid off during the pandemic.
“It was a nice job title on a pretty rotten job,” said Shurr, who learned soon after starting that his duties would also include sales to walk-in customers.
When Shurr broached the subject, his boss asked him to give it a chance and said he was really needed on the showroom floor. Shurr, who describes himself as more of a computer guy, quit about a month later.
“I feel kind of trapped at the moment,” said Shurr, who has since taken a part-time job as a parts manager as he tries to find full-time work.
Long-distance relationships between bosses and staff might also be an issue. Nearly a third of workers at large firms don’t work in the same metro area as their managers, up from about 23% in February 2020, according to data from payroll provider ADP.
Distance has weakened ties among co-workers and heightened conflict, said Moshe Cohen, a mediator and negotiation coach who teaches conflict resolution at Boston University’s Questrom School of Business. He has noticed more employees calling co-workers or bosses toxic or impossible, signs that trust is thin.
Cohen’s corporate clients said their employees are increasingly transactional with one another. Some are coaching workers in the finer points of dialogue, such as saying hello first before jumping into the substance of a conversation.
“The idea of slowing down, taking the time, being genuine, trying to actually establish some sort of connection with the other person—that’s really missing,” Cohen said.
One Los Angeles-based consultant in his 20s, who asked to remain anonymous because he is seeking another job, said that when he started his job at a large company last year, his largely remote colleagues were focused on their own work, unwilling to show a new hire the ropes or invite him for coffee. Many leave cameras off for video calls and few people show up at the office, making it hard to build relationships.
“There’s zero humanity,” he said, noting that he is seeking another job with a strong office culture.
The share of U.S. companies mandating office attendance five days a week has fallen this year—to 38% in October from 49% at the start of the year—according to Scoop Technologies, a software firm that developed an index to monitor workplace policies of nearly 4,500 companies.
Some companies have reversed flexible remote-work policies—in large part, they said, to boost employee engagement and productivity—only to face worker backlash.
Not all the data point downward. A Conference Board survey in November 2022 of U.S. adults showed workers were more satisfied with their jobs than they had been in years. Key contingents among the happiest employees: people who voluntarily switched roles during the pandemic and those working a mix of in-person and remote days. But that poll was taken before a spate of layoffs at high-profile companies and big declines in the number of knowledge-worker and professional jobs advertised.
At Farmers Group, workers posted thousands of mostly negative comments on the insurer’s internal social-media platform after its new CEO nixed the company’s previous policy allowing most workers to be remote.
Employees like Kandy Mimande said they felt betrayed. “We couldn’t get the ‘why,’” said the 43-year-old, who had sold her car and spent thousands of dollars to redo her home office under the remote-work policy. She shelled out $10,000 for a used car for the commute. A company spokesperson said that not all employees will support every business decision and that Farmers hasn’t seen a significant impact on staff retention.
During a brief leave, Mimande realised she no longer felt a sense of purpose from her product-management job. She resigned last month after she and her wife decided they could live on one salary.
She now helps promote a band and pet-sits. “It’s so much easier for me to report to myself,” she said.
Consumers are going to gravitate toward applications powered by the buzzy new technology, analyst Michael Wolf predicts
Chris Dixon, a partner who led the charge, says he has a ‘very long-term horizon’