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The Actions and Consequences of Corporate Subjectivity: Rio Tinto and the Metabolic Rift

Nicholas S. Paliewicz University of Utah ~ [email protected]

Kevin DeLuca University of Utah ~ [email protected]

Brett Clark University of Utah ~ [email protected]

Abstract Rio Tinto Kennecott’s Bingham Canyon Mine in Salt Lake City, Utah, is the largest open pit copper mine in the world. It serves as a “necessary” hub for global flows of energy, carbon, and capital for the transnational network of late consumer capitalism. It results in extensive environmental degradation, producing rifts in metabolic networks that have sustained life within the Great Basin for billions of years. Salt Lake City is a sacrifice zone for corporate interests in the energy dependent, carbon-based economy. Rio Tinto, with a total revenue of $147 billion, effectively creates an image of corporate citizenry while forcing local ecologies to endure its toxic externalities. “Metabolic analysis” has been used to examine the rifts (ruptures) in the soil nutrient cycle, carbon cycle, and regenerative capacity of fish stock in oceans (Foster, 1999, Moore, 2000, Clark & Foster, 2009, Clausen & Clark, 2005, Foster, Clark & York, 2010). In this paper, we employ a “metabolic analysis” to situate and highlight the socioecological relationships associated with the Bingham Canyon Mine. We map the rifts within metabolic networks, revealing the contradictory dynamics of capital accumulation and the singular focus of industrial capital. We emphasis the importance of an ecological understanding, whereby there is no distinction between nature and culture and there is a full account of “environmental wealth” (Schor, 2010). We contend that the metaphor of metabolic networks is useful in that it positions critics as cartographers that map the complicated relationships between human and non-human forces. This interdisciplinary, “cosmopolitical” (Latour, 2007, p. 262) perspective observes no distinctions between nature and culture and moreover recognizes the ontological associations of human and non-human actor-networks (see Latour, 1987). Our analysis of metabolic networks draws upon archives at the University of Utah Marriott Library, including the Wilbur H. Smith Papers and the Superfund Records, in addition to Rio Tinto’s Toxic Release Inventory and other technical data regarding the environmental consequences of the Bingham Canyon Mine. As part of this project, we also examine the environmental rhetoric associated with this case. As environmental communication scholars, it is more important than ever to challenge humanist assumptions that position human actors as sovereign, rational actors at the epicenter of the world. This point is especially true considering the rhetorical emergence of corporations as disembodied, soulless subjects that are some of the most powerful actors this planet has ever seen. As the Anthropocene advances, it is entirely plausible to suggest that societies are moving closer to an era dominated by industries rather than humans. It is necessary to recognize the failures of humanism and reconstruct our 21st century actor-networks.

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The Actions and Consequences of Corporate Subjectivity: Rio Tinto and the Metabolic Rift Copper is essential to everyday modern living, and it is particularly vital to communication technologies. It is in computers, smartphones, tablets, telephone lines, and nearly countless other communication devises. It is so crucial to 21st century communication technology that Tim Heffernan has dubbed our historical moment the “new Bronze Age” (Heffernan, 2013). To him, “worries about oil and gas hog all the airwaves,” but it is copper too that “keep[s] the world running.” As a commodity, copper has always been inextricably tied with profound networks of industry, communication, and wealth. These networks can all be observed in Salt Lake City, Utah, where industrial giant, Rio Tinto Kennecott, owns and operates the largest open pit copper mine in the world: The Bingham Canyon Mine. Rio Tinto’s Bingham Canyon Mine is located in Utah’s Oquirrh Mountains, and it has become a vital hub for global flows of energy, carbon, and capital on a transnational scale. While the necessity of copper to digital networks of communication cannot be understated, what is oftentimes overlooked is how these ecologies of communication result in extensive environmental degradation and rifts in metabolic networks that sustain planetary life. Salt Lake City may thus be understood as a sacrifice zone for faraway corporate interests. Rio Tinto is headquartered in London, England, and has raked in total revenues of $147 billion, yet it maintains a local image of corporate citizenry while forcing Salt Lake City inhabitants to endure its toxic externalities. In wake of numerous reports and image events documenting Salt Lake City’s extreme air pollution problem and related environmental practices that compromise public health (Cook, 2014; Fahys, 2009, 2011, 2012a, 2012b; Frosch, 2013; Klaus & Mayhew, 2012; Shen, 2015; Wu & Dietrich, 2012), this essay performs a “metabolic analysis” to trace the socio-ecological relationships associated with the Bingham Canyon Mine and the surrounding environment. The term “metabolic analysis” has been used to examine the rifts (ruptures) in the soil nutrient cycle, carbon cycle, and regenerative capacity of fish stock in oceans (Austin & Clark, 2012; Foster, 1999, Moore, 2000, Clark & Foster, 2009, Clausen & Clark, 2005, Foster, Clark & York, 2010). To get a sense for how Rio Tinto’s Bingham Canyon Mine has impacted local metabolic cycles, we map these ecological relations from a networked theoretical orientation. We emphasize the importance of an ecological understanding, whereby there is no distinction between nature and culture and there is a full account of “environmental wealth” (Schor, 2010). To achieve this objective, this essay is organized in the following way. First, we theorize subjectivity in an age almost entirely dominated by corporate rather than human subjects and posit a few implications of this emergence to rhetoric and environmental communication generally. Second, we draw from numerous archival documents and briefly unpack how ethics of progress and innovation have transformed the Oquirrh Mountains into the largest open pit copper mine in the world. In doing so, we highlight a few key scientific and technological events that have rendered Rio Tinto Kennecott’s corporate subjectivity a necessary component of large-scale porphyry mining. Third, we perform a metabolic analysis of some of the ecological networks ruptured by the environmental immanence of corporate subjectivity. Although toxic waste, like copper, is oftentimes invisible, we draw from numerous scientific reports and toxic release inventories to create a map about how the Bingham Canyon Mine has ruptured carbon and nitrogen cycles in its local vicinity. Specifically, we focus on how high levels of arsenic and lead have caused tremendous risks in ecological networks that have sustained life in the Great Basin for billions of years. Although many of these reports

2 DRAFT: Not for citation without permission depend on Rio Tinto’s own assessment of its environmental impact, they nonetheless provide a starting point for tracking the actions and consequences of corporate subjectivity in a few of Utah’s essential metabolic networks. We conclude with a discussion about the future of metabolic networks in an age of corporate subjectivity.

The Rio Tinto Assemblage: Thinking Anew Rio Tinto is an international mining giant that has mines on over 40 countries and on every continent except Antarctica. The Bingham Canyon Mine is just one of many nodal points where Rio Tinto extracts natural resource minerals from the earth. Rio Tinto is deeply entwined with an immanent metabolic network that gives form to its corporate subjectivity. This concept pushes critics to understand subjectivity as an assemblage and it has many implications to the way environmental communication critics perform criticism. Too often we understand the world through such essentialized entities, simultaneously obvious yet opaque objects. Rio Tinto is not an independent and homogenous unit. This way of thinking has grown out of an intense adherence to and respect for the subject—I—the one subject to rule over a world of objects. In a twisted way, we still agree with Protagoras: “Man is the measure of all things.” The essentialized human subject saturates our thinking, producing a humanism that circumscribes thinking. The West’s conventional habits of thinking are not adequate to engage Rio Tinto, networks, flows, events, panmedia, and so on. A Cartesian subject rationally deliberating in proper public spheres can make no sense of Rio Tinto or social media. To break away from such essentialism requires a different ontological perspective that moves beyond the humanist ontology that has so domesticated Western thinking both philosophically and in multiple practices. When we consider Rio Tinto to be an assemblage we are suggesting that Rio Tinto is being composed by multiple forces and events. Such forces include people and bicycles and cars and protests and consumerism and industrialism and environmentalism and social media and... In thinking of Rio Tinto as an assemblage we are thinking of multiple Rio Tintos always in flux and flowing. Rio Tinto is comprised of networks and knots, or to use Bruno Latour’s term, actant-networks. Our orientation, then, is indebted to an emerging post-humanist flat ontology that animates the earth. So, to proceed we will be oriented by this alternative ontology, especially as articulated over the past 100 years by Whitehead, Bateson, Foucault, Derrida, Deleuze, and Latour, among others. Questioning the Human Subject en Route to a Flat Ontology For an ontology to die, one needs to cut off the head. We will start there. As individuals we are more not ourselves than ourselves. This is true ontologically, epistemologically, biologically, technologically, intellectually, linguistically, and so on. For example, we are composed of 100 trillion cells; 90 trillion of those are not us. In order for humans to exist, they are deeply reliant on all of the bacteria, microbes, and other micro- flora and micro-fauna that help us to absorb nutrients, battle infections, and expend energy. In something of a gut check, alien-like forms make up 90% of our living cells (Stein, 2012). Technologically, computers, Androids, iPads, and search engines have become external extensions of our mind, memory and awareness, offering people access to phone numbers, directions, appointment times, world affairs, entertainment, and encyclopedias. For many people, their smartphone is the object closest to them. Eighty percent of 18-24 year olds in America sleep next to their smartphones every night. We as individuals are not a source of anything, even ourselves. Instead we are born into and live through and extend throughout networks and assemblages. Biology,

3 DRAFT: Not for citation without permission the social sciences, and social theory make clearer every day that the Cartesian subject is dead and Descartes is merely a headless ghost.1 A Thousand Plateaus performs a different subject. As Deleuze writes, "subjectification isn't even anything to do with a ‘person’: it's a specific or collective individuation relating to an event (a time of day, a river, a wind, a life…). It's a mode of intensity, not a personal subject" (1995, p. 99). For Deleuze, the I, the subject, the body, is a composition of forces, not the property of a discrete object. Deleuze sounds prescient in his description of the transformative impacts of new media on “man”: “Is it not commonplace nowadays to say that the forces of man have already entered into or a relation with the forces of information technology and their third-generation machines which together create something other than man, indivisible ‘man – machine’ systems? Is this a union with silicon instead of carbon?” (2006b, p. 74). It is hard to deny Deleuze’s point when Facebook Nation is the world's second largest, Twitter has exploded in a few years to over 883 million members (232 million of which are active on a monthly basis) (Edwards, 2013) and the 2012 US presidential debates were dominated by the tweet “binders full of women.” Analogue being displaced by digital becomings. As a consequence we must shift our analyses from the individual subject to the networks and assemblages that constitute us and the social worlds and earth we inhabit. In the Age of the Animated Earth, starting our studies with the atomistic individual makes little sense if we want to understand the world and how social change happens. The philosophical and pragmatic implications are transformative. At such a moment, it makes sense to imagine our world outside the parochial lens of humanism and to turn to other orientations as we try to figure out the networks of the Rio Tinto assemblage. Deleuze (and Guattari’s) and Latour’s works offer concepts and resources for thinking differently in defiance of the rational Cartesian subject, “I,” that most provincial of linguistic habits and solipsistic beliefs.2 A focus on the human is a reduction and truncation that distorts thinking. We opt for a grappling with assemblages and networks that are always already more than human.

Theorizing Networks, Exploring Black Boxes In order to explore social change today, we must shift our orientation to one capable of dealing with the cacophonous clamour of networks that connect people and animals, and plants, and technologies and corporation. As the Internet becomes the central organizing principle of post-human societies, social theorists have reimagined society literally and metaphorically as a network (Benkler, 2006; Castells, 2012, 1996; Delanda, 2006). Latour is one of the most important and productive theorists of networks. Latour elaborates on Deleuze’s theoretical provocations via his innovative actant-network theory (ANT), which fully embraces a new way of thinking. Deeply influenced by Deleuze and Derrida, Latour displaces a humanist world of subjects and objects with worlds of actants and networks. Latour proffers a flat ontology wherein everything is an actant, from humans to rocks to slugs to stores to scallops to viruses to tables to subways to ideas to maps to computers to winds to legends to money. Such actants only exist in networks, lines of force:

1 Descartes’ body literally is headless, entombed in the abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés, the oldest church in Paris, while his skull meditates in the Musee d’Homme. 2 Although we primarily engage with Deleuze (and Guattari) and Latour’s alternative ontologies of events and relations, of assemblages and actant-networks, they are not alone but part of an alternative thinking that includes Alfred North Whitehead’s evental/process reality and Gregory Bateson’s ecological Mind.

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I don't know how things stand. I know neither who I am nor what I want, but others say they know on my behalf, others who define me, link me up, make me speak, interpret what I say, and enroll me. Whether I am a storm, a rat, a rock, a lake, a line, the child, a worker, a gene, a slave, the unconscious, or a virus, they whisper to me, they suggest, they impose an interpretation of what I am and what I could be (Latour, 1993, p. 192). In abandoning the ontology of Western humanism, the world of subjects and objects, Latour warns, “be prepared to cast off agency, structure, psyche, time, and space along with every other philosophical and anthropological category, no matter how deeply rooted in common sense they may appear to be” (Latour, 2007, pp. 24–25). Latour presents a fundamental challenge to the founding chant of Western philosophy, “I think, therefore I am.” Latour questions thinking and Being and I, discarding Descartes's “to be” in favor of Gabriel Tarde’s “to have” (Latour, 2007, p. 217). What do we have? Networks of associations, of actants, of things, of events, of lines of force. In “Irreductions” Latour replaces subjects and reason with forces, lines of forces, networks of actants and their alliances and trials. For Latour, the I, like any actant, is the consequence of a swarm of forces. In displacing the I, we must contend with the consequences. In rejecting a Cartesian subject, an autonomous and atomistic subject in a universe of objects, Latour is rejecting a black box ontology wherein humans are constituted by ultimately unknowable transcendental essences such as God/soul/history/instinct/reason/ideology/ nature/ culture/discourse. “To be a realistic whole is not an undisputed starting point but the provisional achievement of a composite assemblage…. Subjectivity is not a property of human souls but of the gathering itself” (2007, 208, 218). Instead, Latour understands all actants, humans as well as myriad other entities, a plethora of entelechies, to be constituted in and through flows of networks. Any actant is a contingent knot, an ephemeral event amidst cacophonous flows of networks that are themselves ceaselessly in flux. “Action is not done under the full control of consciousness; action should rather be felt as a node, a knot, and a conglomerate of many surprising sets of agencies…. Action should remain a surprise, a mediation, an event” (2007, 44, 45). Humans, corporations, banana slugs, all actants, are composed of networks, assemblages, “the moving target of a vast array of entities swarming toward it” (2007, 46). In rejecting transcendence via God or Reason and a world of black boxes, Latour presents a philosophy rooted in immanence and made pragmatically possible by the Internet and the host of new media amidst which we live. As Latour argues, “we have the social theory of our datascape. If you change this datascape, you have to change the social theory” (2011, 9). With our digital datascapes, the Internet and its hardware and software and social media platforms and plug-ins and patches and satellites, it is now possible to move beyond mysterious black boxes such as the soul and instead trace the associations of actant-networks that ceaselessly translate and compose the worlds of our earth. We are mediators enmeshed in vast arrays of networks ceaselessly translating and composing myriad worlds. Borrowing from 20th Century physics, Latour later develops this point, emphasizing his focus on relations: “any entity can be seized either as an actor or as a network…. An actor is nothing but a network, except that a network is nothing but actors” (2010, 5). Of course, the questioning of the subject, the I, necessarily undermines the rationality that grounds the Cartesian subject of the “I think, therefore I am.” The Western fetishization of reason crumbles. Latour gleefully scorns the fetish of reason, “A butterfly flies in a straighter line then a mind that reasons.... We insult, frown, pout, clench our

5 DRAFT: Not for citation without permission fists, enthuse, spit, sigh, and dream. Who reasons?” (Latour, 1993, pp. 179–180). So, what do actants have in place of reason? We neither think nor reason. Rather, we work on fragile materials—texts, inscriptions, traces, or paints.... An actant can make an ally out of anything.... A word can thus enter into partnership with a meaning, a sequence of words, a statement, a neuron, a gesture, a wall, a machine, a safe…anything…. A heterogeneous multitude of allies, mercenaries, friends, and courtesans (Latour, 1993, pp. 186, 183). So, in place of rationality, in displacement of the God of reason, actant-networks have alliances, attachments, trials, mediations, translations, lines of force, affect. Let us follow traces.

Affect/Force Force and affect are especially important here. An overweening hubristic humanism rooted in Descartes erroneously presumes an autonomous subject moved by rationality, persuaded by good reasons. This stance is exposed with the withering of the subject, the dissipation of “I.” For Deleuze and Latour, forces move things. As Latour concludes, “demonstrations are always of force, and the lines of force are always a measure of reality, it's only measure. We never bow to reason, but rather to force” (Latour, 1993, p. 233). This echoes Deleuze, “all reality is already quantity of force” (Deleuze, 2006, p. 40). Indeed, the things of the earth are no more than compositions, contests, collisions of forces. Changing plays of forces compose new worlds. Deleuze & Guattari argue that “the essential thing is no longer forms and matters, or themes, but forces, densities, intensities” (1987, p. 343). The key point here is a move from a universe of human subjects dominating lifeless objects to forces and relations. Drawing from Nietzsche and Foucault, Deleuze argues that “each force has the power to affect (others) and to be affected (by others again), such that each force implies power relations: and every field of forces distributes forces according to these relations and their variations” (Deleuze, 1988a, p. 71). This is a dense web in which pulls and tugs ripple through networks in motion. Crucially, affect is not about emotions: “affects aren’t feelings, they're becomings that spill over beyond whoever lives through them (thereby becoming someone else)” (Deleuze, 1997, p. 137). As Marco Abel elaborates, “affect – understood as becoming/pre-subject of force – is precisely that which comes first, ontologically as well as pragmatically; affect is that which ends up producing emotions and representations” (2008, p. 7). From the perspective of forces and affects, “There is no longer a subject, but only individuating affective states of an anonymous force” (Deleuze, 1988b, p. 128). Forces both compose and transform bodies. To recall, for Deleuze “a body can be anything; it can be an animal, a body of sounds, a mind or an idea; it can be a linguistic corpus, a social body, a collectivity” (1988b, p. 127). These myriad bodies on both ontological and pragmatic dimensions are compositions of forces, events, “a composition of fast and slow speeds, of capacities for affecting and being affected on this plane of immanence” (Deleuze, 1988b, p. 125). Tracking these forces requires new orientations. Thus, we leave behind structuralist frameworks in favor of tracing knotted, inchoate networks. This perspective allows us to understand how Rio Tinto exists on an ecological plane of consistency at the Bingham Canyon Mine. To understand the complex relations that have produced and sustained Rio Tinto’s subjectivity, and on a metabolic level, the following section begins an immanent analysis of Rio Tinto’s by tracing a few pivotal events that have created one ecological assemblage in the Oquirrh Mountains. We then move into an analysis of how these networks have been ruptured by toxic wastes that have infiltrated these networks.

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From Ore to More: Corporate Actions, The Necessity of Copper, and the Historical Contingency of Progress at Utah’s Bingham Canyon Copper Mine In Steep Trails John Muir describes his walks through the forests of the Oquirrh Mountains in 1877. Located only 35 miles southwest of Salt Lake City, UT, the Oquirrh Mountains, to Muir, were full of eye-catching “Mormon lilies” and other “trinkets.” These mountains offered the naturalist a delightful journey among “brushy tangles of azalea,” (1918, p. 129) oak, prickly roses and splendorous varieties of rocks, bushes, and wildflowers. After “lying dormant all winter at the level of the sea,” Muir excitedly wrote, the biology of the mountain came alive to celebrate the “crowning glory of flowers” that radiated before incredible peaks of the Oquirrh Range. This was a place of “many delightful seclusions” that had many hidden treasures among the fragrant evergreens, the luscious wildflowers, and the pine-filled glacial hollows. At this time, the mountains were untouched, “without any marked character…” (p. 127). Muir was naturally curious about composition of the rocks beneath his boots. As it turns out, mineral prospectors were also interested in the geologic configuration of this glorious mountainous region, but for a very different reason than what Muir had in mind: the Oquirrh Mountains were loaded with copper. The Oquirrh Mountains that Muir once explored have since been transformed into the largest open pit copper mine in the world: The Bingham Canyon Mine. This mine has been made possible by industrial forces and corporate subjects capable of extracting infinitesimal deposits of copper into pure copper cathodes. In fact, copper is so sparse that it comprises only about .02% of the mountain. Yet, with proper infrastructure, machines, and corporate networks, industrial capitalists have been able to transform the Oquirrh Mountains into a mine that is so large it can now be seen from outer space. They used steam shovels, railway cars, and metallurgical expertise. This of course is the strategy behind open pit mining: Machines replace mining laborers by collecting massive amounts of ore with minuscule deposits of mineral metal and then transform the heaps of dirt into 99.99% pure cathodes of copper with the right science and technology. The Bingham Canyon Copper Mine is unique not only because it has been one of the most historically successful open-pit mines on the planet, but it was the first mine to pioneer this method of extraction. This event marshaled in the advent of large-scale mining and the birth of corporate subjectivity for this region. This event was triggered in 1903, when a man named Daniel Jackling incorporated the Utah Copper Company. The company was formulated on bold conclusions from an 1899 research paper that Jackling co-authored with mining engineer, Robert Gemmell. This paper, known as the Jackling-Gemmell Report, optimistically concluded that mining low-grade copper (2% or less) could be a profitable industrial enterprise for Bingham, UT. Even though these initiatives were outside the parameters of traditional mining methods, its findings were compelling enough to persuade the Penrose-MacNeill Group (later known as the Guggenheim group) to take a risk on this new Utah company. To Arthur Parsons (1933), this report was “the first conservative and reasonably comprehensive analysis of a mining enterprise based on the exploitation of ore containing as little as 2 per cent copper, or 40 lb. to the ton” (p. 55). To Parsons, it is amazing to consider “the prophetic accuracy of some of the essential features of the report” since the report proved to be an accurate assessment of the possibilities of porphyry mining. Porphyry mining, or open-pit mining, is a process of using dynamite to release hard rock ore from the mountains and then loading hauls of dirt from the earth using

7 DRAFT: Not for citation without permission heaving machinery. The ore would then be transported by rail to the concentrator, which would crush the rock to prepare it for the refinery. It is then pulled together using chemical compounds to separate them from their host. The copper is then processed and transformed into cathodes to supply global demands for the metal in everyday uses of technology. After all, the brilliance of porphyry mining, to Jackling, lies in metallurgy and not the mining itself. Quite simply, open pit mining was cheaper and less arduous than previous methods of stoping and block-caving underground. The way Jackling had imagined this this whole process relied on steam shovels to scoop the ore and dump it into railway cargo units. According to Arthur Parsons (1933), open pit porphyry mining changed the world we live in by democratizing the use of copper as one of the earth’s most powerful electrical conductor. Because copper was now produced on a large-scale level, it became more affordable and promoted the free use of electricity on a nationwide scale. In many ways, it did for electricity what the printing press did for the literature. With porphyry mining came big time business and a host of other industries that were now able to affordably use copper to create cheaper, more available commodities such as radios, automobiles, and even airplanes. Porphyry mining allowed men to move mountains and it secured jobs, created towns, and spurred national technological growth by tremendously reducing the overall unit cost of electrical power and making modern forms of communication possible. It is the cornerstone of global economic progress, and in our current age of technology, open-pit mining is more essential than ever. The Utah Copper Company was at the helm of this transformation. Between 1907 and 1914, the company “revolutionized copper mining and was the beginning of ‘porphyry coppers’” (Parsons, 1933, p. 30). In an archival document titled “The mining industry of Utah and the Utah Copper Company,” the author notes that “it took men and money to make Utah Copper, and Utah is indeed fortunate in having such a developed resource, as it has been one of the state’s greatest business and industrial contributors practically since the turn of the century” (Mining Industry, n.d., p. 30). Demonstrating the unfettered potential of technology to develop the material forces of mining, the Utah Copper Company proved that essential commodities such as copper could be created with highly developed scientific models. Mining prospectors were no longer limited to the natural conditions of mineral deposits that reduced extraction potentialities to a laborious process of locating sparse distributions of metal particles. Rio Tinto didn’t emerge on the scene until 1989, and until then it was the Utah Copper Company that made porphyry mining a profitable enterprise at Bingham Canyon. Networks of corporate subjectivity are complicated and the webs that have tied corporations to this mine began to expand when the Kennecott Copper Corporation purchased Utah Copper in 1936. Kennecott immediately expanded the scale of the mine and increased its productivity by building new separation facilities for other minerals such as molybdenum, recognizing the rights of unionized labor, and even providing one third of all the copper used by the Allies during World War II. When Rio Tinto did purchase the mine’s assets, Bingham Canyon was born again. The metabolic networks that sustained porphyry mining have since been intricately connected with Rio Tinto’s mineral empire, which spans across forty countries on every continent except Antarctica. This corporate subject has since gone by the name of Rio Tinto Kennecott (RTK). The scale of Rio Tinto Kennecott’s operation should not be underestimated. In 1913, the Bingham Canyon Mine contained less then 2% of copper. Today, it is less than .02%. This means that the 99.98% of ore extracted from the mine is toxic waste, piled up near the Great Salt Lake in one of Rio Tinto’s tailings ponds. These tailings include numerous compounds detrimental not only to human health but also to the metabolic networks that it ruptures when it leaks into the soil, gets into the air, or flows

8 DRAFT: Not for citation without permission into the Great Salt Lake. All of this is considered normal because porphyry mining has become the next logical step in how we go about extracting minerals such as copper from mountains in order to fuel the technological sectors of our global economy. It is also telling about the scale of the metabolic rift. Rio Tinto Kennecott’s corporate subjectivity has been produced by a host of ecological, technological, and economic forces that have given it local and global agency. The ability to frame the Oquirrh Mountains as an economic resource is a very real material consequence of power that has undercut the metabolic networks that has made accumulations of capital possible. Moreover, the force of Rio Tinto’s corporate subjectivity has become dependent on an ecological amnesia wrought by the scale of the Bingham Canyon Mine in the context of our transnational economic system. While history books and academic journals talk about the bold scientific initiatives of metallurgists and mining engineers such as Jackling and Gemmell, what is often excluded is how the Oquirrh’s ecological networks have been disrupted during this quest for unlimited supplies of copper to meet the demands of our global economy. Assuming that our system of capitalism is inherently antithetical to the sustenance of biological life (Foster, Clark & York, 2010), corporate subjects such as Rio Tinto are able to position their activities as natural or progressive reinforce the idea that corporations are essential to solving modern problems such as global warming. This problematically reinforces a technological myopia that assumes new technologies of living are solvents for environmental catastrophes caused by dependencies on fossil fuels and “exuberant” habits of consumption (Buell, 2004). Thus, as the industrial legacy of mining continues, environmentalists should not overlook the ways in which corporate subjects frame the environmental world in which we all live. Looking back, when Muir wrote about his hiking adventures through the deep forests of the Oquirrh Mountains so long ago, he was curious about the geologic composition of the earth, but from a networked perspective. He was no more interested in the hard-rock beneath his boots than he was in the flowers, the wildlife, and the luscious forests. His comments, then, were grounded in a networked framework that appreciated the metabolic wealth of these mountains. This is very different from the interests of mining engineers and corporate subjects that have worked so hard to separate such a small part of this network – copper – in order to accumulate capital. Where Muir saw a stunning metabolic network, industrialists saw copper. This is what Bruno Latour (1993) has called a “reduction” that has isolated an object from its relations within an assemblage. The Oquirrh Mountains have thus been reduced to an economic essence that is unique to the cultural accomplishment of the human species. Nonetheless, the advent of porphyry mining created an ecological assemblage intricately associated with Rio Tinto’s subjectivity. This network, however, has compromised metabolic systems that sustain organic life in the Salt Lake Valley and the Great Basin region. To understand the full impact of this ecological transformation and to regain the lost symmetry between corporate and ecological networks of relation, the following section tracks the consequences of Rio Tinto’s corporate subjectivity from a metabolic orientation that attempts to think like a copper mine.

Thinking Like a Copper Mine: Corporate Consequences and The Metabolic Rifts of the Bingham Canyon Copper Mine Aldo Leopold once thought like a mountain to support an ecological ethic that displaces the human subject as the center of the biological world. Following Leopold’s lead, then, we wonder how critics might begin to think like a copper mine to put mountain, corporation, and both human and non-human metabolisms into relation with

9 DRAFT: Not for citation without permission one another on a plane of immanence (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987) rather than a humanistic structure of verticality. This section provides an ecological account of the networks that constitute Rio Tinto’s metabolic subjectivity, which are all too often imperiled by ecological amnesias. It is our contention that metabolic rifts are directly related to the networks that sustain Rio Tinto Kennecott’s corporate subjectivity, and this is traceable to various environmental events that have shaped the metabolic networks associated with the Bingham Canyon Copper Mine. Since its inception, the Bingham Canyon Mine has dumped over six billion tons of toxic material in the Salt Lake Valley (Lemons, 2014). In 1998, Rio Tinto Kennecott was at the top of the EPA’s Superfund List for releasing 439 million pounds of toxic material. It has contaminated ground water, freshwater, and drinking water with contaminants such as arsenic, cadmium, and chromium (Lemons, 2014). According to Kennecott’s reports, the company emitted over 14 million pounds of lead, 8 million pounds of arsenic, and 296 million pounds of copper (Multinational Monitor, 2000). The amount of toxic waste released by the Bingham Canyon Mine is confounding, and as Pezzullo (2007) has noted one of the problems associated with disposals of toxic waste is that it is oftentimes invisible, and thus mundane. In 1990, however, the Bingham Canyon Mine’s environmental problem was front-page news when it nearly went on the National Priorities List due years and years of environmental neglect and generous mining exemptions that the State of Utah provided Kennecott under solid waste and hazardous waste laws. Publics first noticed there was a problem when assessments revealed contamination along Bingham Creek and a historic floodplain that extended through heavily populated areas where “entire neighborhoods had been built on the former flood plain land” (EPA, 2006, p. 6). Publics were upset, and Kennecott denied association until the state agreed on the necessity of CERCLA to help deal with the volatile situation. There were two zones to this metabolic contamination. In the South Zone, where the ore was mined and concentrated, investigators found abundances of arsenic, cadmium, chromium, copper, lead, nickel, selenium, silver, acids, sulfate, and zinc that were seeping into entire neighborhoods. Drinking water was contaminated with cadmium, chromium, sulfate, and arsenic, which had previously lead to a massive shutdown in the 1980s. Additionally, waste leached acid waters and created a 72- square-mile plume of sulfate-contaminated groundwater, which burdened many communities in the Salt Lake Count who now had to find new sources of drinking water (EPA, 2006, p. 3). The North Zone of the Bingham Canyon Mine was also affected, which is where the ore was smelted and refined once it was transferred through a slurry pipeline once mined and concentrated. At this local, toxic sludge leaked into soils, surface water, and ground water. Principal elements were lead, arsenic, and selenium. High selenium contents along the Great Salt Lake were particularly lethal because they jeopardized the native bird habitats that resided in the wetlands (EPA, 2006, p. 3). With state and federal oversight, Kennecott removed more than 25 million tons of mining wastes contaminated with lead and arsenic in the South Zone by 1999 with a Reuse idea in mind. The North Zone was cleaned up in 2001. The sludge from the refinery and smelter were transposed and other contaminated soils discovered when the smelter and refiner were modernized was all transposed to an onsite repository. Kennecott also decided to reuse the once contaminated land in the South Zone, and it created the Kennecott Land Company “to protect and develop non-mining land,” which consisted of nearly 93,000 acres (EPA, 2006, p. 11). Currently, Kennecott Land owns and operates a suburban community called Daybreak on property that was once covered by layers of toxic sludge. According to the EPA, this initiative is living proof that corporations be responsible and cleanup their messes. “The cleanup process Kennecott

10 DRAFT: Not for citation without permission used was unprecedented” and it “accomplished EPA’s goal of protecting human health and environment” (EPA, 2006, p. 12).3 Kennecott now heralds its local assemblage as a responsible, and caring, member of the community. It was born again citizen-subject that effectively extended its hand to the public and articulated its identity as a responsible corporate subject. However, the metabolic networks of Rio Tinto’s subjectivity have persisted, and numerous ruptures, fissures, and rifts have continued to have severe ecological ramifications for unseen networks that make sustain planetary life. Kennecott first began reporting its on- and off-site toxic release inventory (TRI) in 1998 under the EPA’s Emergency Planning and Community Right-to-Know Act (EPCRA), and according to the most recent 2013 reports, there are three primary industrial sites where Kennecott has continued to release substantial amounts of toxic waste: Kennecott Barneys Canyon Mining in Copperton, UT; Kennecott Utah Copper Smelter & Refinery in Magna, UT; and Kennecott Utah Copper Mine Concentrators & Power Plant in Bingham Canyon, Utah. By far, Kennecott’s Concentrators & Power Plant at the Bingham Canyon Mine disposes the most toxic waste of the three listed industrial nodal points. In the Bingham Canyon Mine ranked second highest on the EPA’s list of the nation’s top 100 polluting facilities with 290,490,644 pounds of total toxic release. Kennecott’s Barney’s Canyon – a surface gold mine located directly adjacent to the Bingham Canyon– ranked third with 193,036,768 pounds of toxic waste, and the Kennecott Utah Smelter & Refinery ranked 19th highest in the nation, reporting 19,144,235 pounds of toxic release (EPA, 2015a). Even though all of these reports indicate waste released from different sites in Salt Lake County, they cannot be seen in isolation since they are all networked with corporate subject, Kennecott Copper, which in turn is a subsidiary of Rio Tinto (Rio Tinto Kennecott from herein out). These reports shockingly illustrate the persistent severity of the metabolic crisis in the Salt Lake Valley.4 This data gives us a sense for how Rio Tinto’s ecological assemblage has compromised metabolic cycles in the Great Basin area. The case of arsenic, for instance, illustrates extensive ruptures in the nitrogen cycle, which affects organic systems in the atmosphere, the water, and the soil. TRI reports the Bingham Canyon Mine produced 48,622 pounds of arsenic in 2013 (EPA 2015b). Arsenic is naturally released from the Earth’s crust through natural cycles of geological movement, but it if perturbed by exterior forces its inorganic forms – which is notably more toxic than organic concentrates that can especially contaminate sea-life –may proliferate in harmful ways by dispersing into the air or underground water sources. When airborne, arsenic

3 It is also worth noting that in Section 101(21) of CERCLA, a person is defined as “an individual, firm, corporation, association, partnership, consortium, joint venture, commercial entity, United States Government, state, municipality, commission, political subdivision of a State, or any interstate body” (Superfund Papers, 1991). Thus we can see that even the EPA recognizes corporations as subjects from humanist perspectives. 4 It is worth mentioning that it is very likely that these numbers are vastly understated because major industrial mining companies have successfully fought to minimize, and even eliminate, the public’s right to know about emitted toxic waste. It is estimated that these numbers are approximately 50% less than actual numeral data. For example, in 2001 Rio Tinto Kennecott reported 182 million pounds of toxic waste from the Bingham Canyon Mine after legal proceedings gave corporations flexibility in numbers. Before the lawsuit, and in the same year, the Bingham Canyon Mine’s TRI reported more than 695 million pounds of toxics, which is more than three times the amount of the former (Earthworks, 2010). We realize this limitation of our data; nonetheless, it offers the best account of toxic waste available for cartographers such as ourselves.

11 DRAFT: Not for citation without permission can substantially perturb the nitrogen cycle by increasing the toxic potency of air pollution, which then in turn seeps into the soil and contaminants nitrogen-fixing bacteria that produce ammonia and nitrates that sustain animal life. Arsenic can be particularly dangerous for human and non-human health because it is a fine particulate matter (PM10 and PM 2.5) that easily penetrates deep parts of human and non-human respiratory systems because it is so microscopic in size (10 and 2.5 micrometers). Arsenic is just one of many toxics noted in the EPA’s most recent TRI. Another substantial toxic is lead. TRI estimates that the Bingham Canyon Mine released 234,589,507 pounds of lead compounds in 2000 (EPA, 2015c). Lead, like arsenic, is mobile because it moves throughout various ecosystems and can cause rifts in both atmospheric and ground-level metabolic networks. Consequently, lead, as a heavy toxic metal, has a few major consequences on some of the most basic metabolic networks that sustain planetary life by 1) disrupting organic contents of the soil and destroying root systems 2) rupturing the phosphorus cycle that plants depend on to survive (see Vaccari, 2009), and 3) damaging animals’ central nervous system and preventing their bodies from synthesizing red blood cells (Lead Action News, 1993). Lead is also harmful to both humans and non-humans as a both a water saleable and an atmospheric particle. While lead in groundwater supplies and the Great Salt Lake (EPA, 2006), lead is uniquely harmful for atmospheric networks because, like arsenic, it is a fine particulate matter that easily penetrates human and non-human cardiovascular systems. Metabolic effects of air pollution are supercharged because Salt Lake City is geographically positioned between two mountain fronts that create an “inversion effect” that traps pollution in the valley. It is no secret that the Salt Lake Valley has some of the worst air in the nation, which has caught many headlines from local, national, and news stories and has incited numerous local protests (The Economist, 2014; Frosch, 2013; Napier- Pearce, 2014). Altogether, Rio Tinto’s Bingham Canyon Mine has resulted in extensive environmental degradation and has produced numerous rifts in metabolic networks in the Salt Lake Valley. We have mentioned just a few of them. Rifts in the nitrogen and carbon cycles are oftentimes overlooked as mundane, and invisible, components of corporate subjectivity. If we recall, subjectivity is an assemblage defined by forces; as such, it is more important than ever to track the ecological relations that produce and sustain corporate subjectivity in sacrificial places such as Bingham Canyon. The Bingham Canyon Mine’s networks of toxic waste may even be understood as Rio Tinto’s body because they are a clear composition of forces set in motion by corporate actions. Yet, it is also important to keep in mind that Bingham Canyon’s metabolic systems are just one assemblage of Rio Tinto’s corporate subjectivity. Rio Tinto also has a communal assemblage where it is a citizen-subject of the community. It has a legal assemblage where it is protected by certain statutes and constitutional rights. It also has a visual assemblage where its subjectivity is characterized by corporate image events, advertisements, and logos. All in all, Rio Tinto is a corporate subject with many different networks, and this essay has tracked the actions and consequences of corporate subjectivity in just one of them. Regardless, Rio Tinto pushes environmental communication critics to rethink the very idea of subjectivity and necessarily transgress humanistic in order to realize our post-human ontology. Altogether, even though Rio Tinto Kennecott has hailed itself as an environmental innovator and a leader of responsible corporate activity, a metabolic perspective reveals that the Bingham Canyon Mine is nothing less than a sacrifice zone used to sustain global flows of precious mineral metals used to energize everyday, modern communication technologies. Recognizing Rio Tinto as a corporate subject on a flattened plane of consistency is a starting point for overcoming the humanist “I” of

12 DRAFT: Not for citation without permission subjectivity that has theoretically restrained communication criticism for too long. Tracking the actions and consequences of corporate subjectivity is merely a beginning, a line of flight, to a new, immanent ontology that perhaps for the first time sees subjectivity as it is: An assemblage.

Reflections on the Rio Tinto Assemblage John Muir described a mountainous landscape rich with color, smells, and scenery, and this was a time when the metabolic networks of this mountain range were unperturbed by industrial forces that had not yet transformed the mountain into a glorified copper mine. The forests that he commented on were providing nutrients to the soil, and the soil was stabilizing carbon, nitrogen, phosphorous cycles that have kept biological life in check for millions of years. Our corporate subject, Rio Tinto Kennecott, is a unique, and active force in this network. Drawing from work done by Foster (1999), Clark & Foster (2009), Moore (2000), and Cluasen & Clark (2005), this essay has observed how Rio Tinto’s corporate subjectivity has altered the dynamics of metabolic networks such as the nitrogen, carbon, and phosphorous cycles by drawing from technical research produced in fields of biology, ecology, and geology regarding environmental impacts of the Bingham Canyon Mine. In doing so, we have identified a few relations that divide Utah’s town and country (see Cronon, 1992; Williams, 1975) and contribute to world-system theorists that have noted various contradictions in capitalism (Wallerstien, 2004). This essay has observed a few incommensurate relations between networks of corporate subjectivity and networks of metabolic life. Like our ecological network, the metabolism of industrial consumption is dependent on other sources for growth, energy, and reproduction. Corporations are metabolic subjects just as much as they are legal, communal, and visual subjects. All of these networks are assemblages where corporations forcefully produce relations and build networks. This work is important because it attempts to reestablish lost symmetries, relations, and networks to rebuild a world of immanence from a post-humanist theoretical orientation. It is our hope that this metabolic analysis is useful for other environmental communication critics concerned with the actions and consequences of corporate subjects. As we mentioned earlier, while humans begin the critical departure from our Holocene era, it is entirely plausible to suggest that societies are moving closer to an era dominated by industries rather than humans5. In which case, the networks of corporate subjectivity will continue to expand, and deprive metabolic systems – such as the Phosphorus, Carbon, and Nitrogen Cycles – of the nutrients that sustain planetary life. To understand this corporate-metabolic network, it is imperative to rebuild subjectivity from an immanent, rather than transcendent orientation. Perhaps then we can overcome our ecological amnesias and better understand our current age of corporate subjectivity.

5 Foster, Clark & York (2010), among others (Revkin, 2011; Schwägerl, 2014), suggest that we are beginning to enter the Anthropocene era (pp. 38-39), which suggests that human behavior on Earth been so significant over recent centuries that it is contributing to the formation of a new geological epoch for its lithosphere.

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