Working hard and staying safe: Drilling rig hands in Alberta more

WORKING HARD AND STAYING SAFE: DRILLING RIG HANDS IN ALBERTA* D. E. Houser ABSTRACT Drilling rig work is dangerous, repetitive, and both physically and emotionally taxing, but is attractive to many workers because it affords a means whereby those lacking postsecondary education are able to earn high salaries while still in their twenties and thirties. This chapter examines the workplace culture of the personnel at a number of rig sites in Alberta, Canada. In it, workers speak about their own motivations and goals and discuss the verbal norms surrounding safety and accidents. This chapter concludes that— the insistence on “money” as the prime motivator in the workers’ folk model notwithstanding— personal rewards are inherent in being an accepted member of the production team. *Published in Research in Economic Anthropology, Volume 30, August, 2010 INTRODUCTION In contrast to the dominant pattern of late modern society in Alberta, in which citizens work hard and save a portion of their earnings with a view to the future, oil rig workers—employed in a demonstrably high-risk occupation which produces much of the province’s wealth—earn enviable hourly wages, but spend their earnings in ways that appear to contravene the conventional rationality of future-oriented savings and planning. To a much greater extent than the societal norm, rig hands seem to “live for today” and this paper suggests that they do not do this out of ignorance of the societal norm. On the contrary, this pattern of hard-work-and-extravagant-living is itself a sort of subcultural ideal and involves its own elements of pride and in-group camaraderie. A recurrent catch phrase that has taken on currency in the Alberta oil patch is that of “depreciative assets”. Nominally, this refers to material objects, such as trucks and equipment, which depreciate in value as they create wealth. But, whether they are conscious of this or not, it is a trope that epitomizes the workers’ own style of conspicuous consumption and their own existential situation. For oil rig workers are, without doubt, depreciative assets in the Alberta economy. As the job uses them up, both physically and emotionally, they will inevitably be replaced by someone younger, faster, and stronger, with little fanfare. From the perspective of the dominant North American economic ethos, one might expect that rig workers, being conscious of both the high wages they make in return for the stressful and high-risk work they perform, and of the limited number of years they are likely to be able to sustain the rigors of the work, would embark on a course of frugal living and accumulating reserves of wealth (investment certificates, mutual funds, 2 RRSPs, and so forth) in anticipation of the time when their own “labour-value”, had depreciated. In the dominant worldview, this would be understood as a kind of long-term rational transaction—making hay while the sun shines and putting aside for a rainy day, so to speak. But the “live for today” ethos of the rig worker subculture prioritizes a different set of values. Personal savings and investment are not utterly non-existent, but play a minor role in workers’ lives. Rather, the key values are values of display and conspicuous consumption, as epitomized by exotic vacations, extravagant hobbies, and the expensive late-model, shiny and well-appointed vehicles that the workers drive to the job site. OIL PRODUCTION AND RESERVES Daniel Yergin wrote, “Energy is the basis of industrial society” (Yergin, 1991, p. 787). Over the past century, oil has emerged as the most valuable commodity in the energy sector, and as of 2009, Canada was second only to Saudi Arabia in terms of estimated gross oil reserves (Government of Alberta, 2009). The province of Alberta is responsible for producing over 75 percent of Canada’s extracted oil, and to date, nearly all of the country’s oil sands production. In 2005, Alberta produced over half a million barrels of conventional light to medium crude oil per diem, making the provincial total for that year 209 million barrels (Alberta Energy and Utilities Board, 2006). The cost of drilling a conventional oil well in Alberta is significant. According to the 2007 report by the ERCB (Energy Resources Conservation Board), this cost ranged 3 from a low of $730,000 to a high of $1,390,000 (section 1.3, 1-10). The report noted that current production wells (especially those drilled within the past five years) produce around five cubic meters of product per day in 2006, as compared with the average of eight point five cubic meters per day in the mid-1990s (section 3.2.1, 3-14). In order for Alberta oil companies to continue to profit from exploration and extraction, overall production efficiency needs to be increased, as the halcyon days of easily located and cheaply produced sweet crude are past. INDUSTRY AND WORKFORCE The push for high volume extraction and the desire to increase profitability contributes to an industrial culture that, by its very nature, privileges speed over safety. In such an environment, issues of competent job training and personal safety awareness are crucial. According to a 2007 bulletin by the Alberta Government, employees under the age of 25 are thirty-three percent more likely to sustain a working injury than older coworkers (Government of Alberta, 2007). Based on my personal experience, entry-level oil work is attractive to persons recently out of high school, as the pay rates are high and no secondary education is required. Owing to the physical and nomadic nature of rig work, a high rate of turnover exists within the junior positions; in fact, such is the volatility of the labour pool that a drilling rig in a busy season may be short on qualified personnel. A shortage creates increased pressure to maintain production rates (or even accelerate them) and this in turn makes it all the more difficult to maintain an emphasis on worker safety at all levels of production, most particularly on the drilling rig itself. 4 Being Canada’s epicenter for oil extraction, Alberta hosts a large network of industrial services that are focused around oil and gas production. In local parlance, the entire industry is referred to as the Oil Patch. According to Manta (2009), Alberta is home to 6,843 services for energy and resources alone, with over 25,000 industrial services operating in the province in total. Peripheral industries related to the oil patch include the welding and fabricating of equipment, such as drilling rigs and storage tanks, construction of exploration sites, mechanical maintenance of heavy equipment, manufacture and application of chemicals used in well stimulation and maintenance, geophysical imaging of potential areas of exploration, as well as environmental agencies that investigate incidents and make recommendations concerning proper techniques for well abandonment and safe incident clean up. As Alberta continues to experience population growth, the number of candidates for industrial jobs also increases. According to Andolfatto and Yan (2008), Alberta boasts an average income level nearly twice that of Newfoundland (2008, p. 4). Perhaps due in part to the volume of job opportunities, the Conference Board of Canada (2008) estimates 30,000 persons per year will move to Alberta over the next two decades. Many of these people will be skilled or semi-skilled workers, and the oil industry will likely prove attractive to newcomers. MAKEUP OF A DRILLING RIG CREW There are, generally, five positions that make up a drilling crew, plus field administrators. Any new recruit on a drilling rig must start at the bottom of the work 5 hierarchy, which will be briefly described here (roles are set in boldface type on first mention). The junior-most position is occupied by the leasehand, an employee whose purpose it is to essentially answer to and assist any personnel with more job experience. Roughnecks are charged with performing the physical changing out of drilling bits and drilling pipe. The motorhand ensures that all mechanical equipment specific to the rig functions well and is properly maintained. The derrickhand is second-in-command on the rig floor. Chief tasks include ascending the rig derrick to couple or uncouple joints of pipe and rack them back in the upright position, and attending to the many facets of maintaining the optimal mud mixture for lubricating the wellbore as it is drilled. Occupying the top position is the driller, who is charged with both the performance of the rig and the collective well being of the crew. While not a crewmember who actually labours on the rig floor, the rig manager (or colloquially the “tool push”) serves several key purposes, including acting as a “trouble shooter”, scheduling workers and arranging their shifts, mediating arguments, dealing with administrative directives from head office, going off site for repair parts or equipment, and dealing with contractors. THE ECONOMICS OF RIG WORK Rig work pays well and a high salary is one of the primary attractions to the job. In Canada, the Canadian Association of Oilwell Drilling Contractors or CAODC sets the wage schedule recommendation for rig workers. The CAODC (2008) calls itself “a trade association, representing drilling and service rig contractors throughout Canada” (CAODC, 2008). One rig hand referred to the CAODC as “a union, one that doesn’t 6 collect fees, but doesn’t advocate on behalf of its workers, either”. Interestingly, the Board of Directors is comprised entirely of the heads of various drilling and service companies. When informants were asked if they felt this constituted a conflict of interest in any way, the most frequent response was a wry grin. It is common knowledge that having the wage recommendation determined by the heads of drilling companies, those with a direct interest in the amount of employee wage payouts, is hardly ideal. However, many informants were critical of provincially organized unions, such as the AUPE. Such unions were thought to be “powerless” and responsible for creating generations of workers that “do nothing but bitch”. Rig hands realized that their potential earning power was directly affected by the wage schedule recommended by the CAODC, but the workers that commented said paying union dues was not going to be received favorably by rig hands anywhere in the province. As of October 1, 2008, the CAODC posted a new wage schedule on its website. While the schedule is a “recommendation only”, it is generally accepted that the proposed schedule becomes the standard wage scale for drilling rig and service rig employees. All rig employees are paid hourly, with drillers commanding the highest wage at $40.00 per hour. At the bottom end of the scale are leasehands, earning $26.00 per hour. The top three positions, those of motorhand, derrickhand, and driller qualify for a raise of two dollars per hour, should hands in those positions complete a training program created by the CAODC. This program is similar to a journeyman program for more traditional trades, such as carpentry or welding, and contains scholastic components. Only one of the rig hands, a relief driller from Saskatchewan, had actually completed the training program. For the most part, opinions about the program were negative, as rig hands 7 viewed it as step towards discriminating against those who were uncomfortable with the classroom-learning component. A motorhand with over twenty years of rig experience felt the program was designed to push “old timers with lots of experience out, and bring in kids that don’t know shit”. Some of the rig hands viewed money as a social equalizer. As such, any attempt to bring classroom learning back into the equation - which is how a few senior rig hands viewed the training program - was perceived as a direct impediment to their ability to earn the best salary possible. As a result, the program was unpopular and a source of complaint, even though it was designed to legitimate rig work as a trade, in the same way as plumbing or construction. A major problem with the program was its source: the Canadian Association of Oilwell Drilling Contractors. This instantly put rig hands on the defensive about the rationale for implementing the program. The aforementioned driller who had obtained his “ticket” (certificate) indicated that his office had “lost the thing” several months previous and that he had not actually seen it yet. He didn’t put much stock in the program per se, but was interested in the nominal raise that accompanied it. Other rig hands were less gracious in their estimations. Rig hands work long hours and put in long hitches (designated shifts followed by days off). A standard shift is twelve hours in length and there are no scheduled breaks or meal times. It is my understanding that regular hitches vary from rig to rig, but on the rig studied, the norm was a hitch with seven night shifts followed by a 24-hour turnaround (known as a “short change”), and then seven day shifts to finish. The rig hands would then have the option of taking seven days off or continuing immediately onto another hitch. There were three 5-man crews in total, such that one would work the day shift, one the night shift, and the other would be on a regular week off (the rig manager was in 8 charge of scheduling the tours and informed me that he strove to give workers both the shifts and time off they wanted). During fieldwork, it was noted that it was not uncommon for hands to “stay in” (continue working) for three or more weeks at a time; one derrickhand stayed in for five weeks during the study. When asked about the rationale for keeping such long hours, a common response was directly related to the weather: rig work is “easy” during the summer and fall months. This changes considerably in the winter, when temperatures routinely reach minus thirty degrees Celsius and wind chill factors send those numbers ever lower. Equipment failure rates are much higher in such extreme conditions, and even the most routine tasks can become onerous. As a consequence, some rig hands prefer to take more time off during the colder seasons than during the warmer ones. As well, when the rig is working steadily in the warm weather, taking on longer hitches is an opportunity to make more money, a pursuit uppermost in the mind of any rig hand, as they themselves frequently said. Besides monetary factors, there is afforded a certain level of respect to those who have braved long hitches, as surviving such an ordeal is not insignificant. One of the drillers had done a nine-week stint in northern Alberta at one point in his career. Taking on a hitch of this length is a considerable strain on a person, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. The driller in question became desperate and reckless during the last two weeks of his hitch, and at one point, being in a “dry camp” (no alcohol permitted), drank heavily in his vehicle, alone. 9 BEING SAFE ON THE RIG Ten years ago we didn’t even wear coveralls or nothin’. All this safety shit has been since then. I have fuckin’ pictures you wouldn’t believe. Back then it was more like how the Americans are. We didn’t give a fuck. Motorhand, 2008 Drilling rigs possess awesome power. They can exert forces in the hundreds of tonnes and pull a drill string out of the ground that measures thousands of meters in length. After spending some time viewing one in action, I was struck by how much of the equipment appeared to be both robustly built and capable of inflicting serious injury or death very quickly. There are few operating guards in place on equipment or signs posted to warn the uninitiated about the potential for injury. Many of the working apparatuses are several feet above the ground, and have little in the way of easily traversable walkways. The noise levels can be deafening, and walking surfaces may be crowded, slippery, or cramped. On top of all these inherent dangers, rig hands move at a high level of speed, as the job often demands it. It is expected that they know where to walk and what to do to remain safe (or, at any rate, appear to know). On the particular rig of study, the manager made it very clear that he was interested in maintaining a safe working environment. As such, rig hands understood that they could be randomly tested for drugs. It was also understood that if an employee came to work intoxicated, this was grounds for being “run off” (fired). Even so, there are many factors at play on a drilling rig that encourage employees to take risks. For instance, the personality of a driller can have a direct influence on the risk attitudes of the crew. One 10 driller may be known for working slowly and methodically. Another may be thought of as a reckless “cowboy” – hard on equipment and personnel. When a crew consists of workers who are familiar with each other’s idiosyncrasies, they can, nevertheless, work well together; new people, whose quirks and personalities are unknown, may have difficulties when added to an established crew. A further factor is the attitude of the oil company employing the drilling contractor. The recent tendency has been to drill new wells as quickly as possible and then move on. As such, there is tremendous pressure on the drilling contractor to complete a new well in short order and thus compose workcrews at random. While it is highly unlikely that any oil company would publicly endorse productivity over safety, it is well known among rig hands that pressures to perform quickly originate at the upper levels of management and trickle down to the ground level. Not surprisingly, many rig hands appear nonchalant about working in such close proximity to dangerous equipment. They are being what Sunstein (1998, p. 799) terms “selectively fatalistic”; certain risks are considered normative in particular situations, while others are aberrant. In an inherently risk-laden environment, routine serves to norm behaviour and thus reduce unpredictability, but at the same time it lowers or overwhelms workers’ consciousness of and attentiveness to risks. Drilling companies are aware of this problem (as is OHSA), and have introduced increasingly involved safety protocols over the past two decades (see Hansen et al., 1993). One result is that workers, according to a junior driller who was interviewed, “are mired in paperwork”, yet risk behaviours are still prevalent, and the myriad demands of production-within-time constraints conspires, tacitly, to encourage risk-taking. 11 A few weeks prior to my arrival to the field, an inexperienced roughneck working on the rig sustained a serious injury. He had been physically guiding a length of pipe across the rig floor, while one end was tethered to a mechanical lift. For some reason, the roughneck had placed his hand on the bottommost threaded portion on the pipe, which happened to strike the rig floor while in motion. As a result, his hand was severely crushed, and three fingers were lost. Since I had many questions about safety, several informants brought the above incident to my attention. Nearly all were of the opinion that the roughneck’s hand placement was not safe and that he “should have known better”. Many of the other rig hands made jokes at his expense such as, “He’s at home, growin’ fingers”. Since this accident was considered preventable, most coworkers did not pity him. A rig manager indicated that he would prefer to run off a junior employee injured on the job, because he “wouldn’t want the guy back, he’s stupid, he’s a hazard”. This response ran counter to what I had expected, namely that it would be understood that junior employees would be more inclined to make mistakes, and thus be given more consideration. In fact, the reverse was true, and the rig manager said that he would give more consideration to a senior employee who sustained an injury because “you’ve developed a sense of attachment to the person, you know”. I also heard from a derrickhand who complained bitterly about having to wear a fall-prevention harness whenever ascending to the top of an equipment building to perform maintenance or cleaning. “Sometimes I feel like they treat me like a child, you know, just ‘cause some guy fell once”. Another derrickhand made similar comments, in his case regarding wearing protective headgear while working on the side of the derrick. “Tellin’ me I gotta wear a helmet up on the spike? What the fuck is that? It makes me 12 look like a retard”. This derrickhand felt that not wearing head protection while working up the derrick was an acceptable risk. It is worth noting that the derrick is a particularly dangerous area to work in, both because of its height and because workers are totally exposed in the event of an emergency. Should a gas fire start in the bore of the well, the derrickhand is often in its direct line. If the derrick experiences failure, for example, due to equipment malfunction or extreme weather conditions, the derrickhand is again the most vulnerable. Even though a restraint harness is worn, in the event of a fall, serious internal damage can be done and legs or arms can easily be broken from the jolt of the fall or when striking sections of the derrick. Despite his obvious awareness of these risks, this derrickhand appeared primarily concerned about the aesthetics of a piece of safety equipment, and disliked using it. Perhaps, as Sunstein suggests, “Risks that seem uncontrollable may produce adaptation” (1998, p. 805). While the derrickhand’s fatalism about working up the derrick was plain to see, possible reasons for it remain beyond the scope of this chapter. MONEY AND POSSESSIONS J.D. House characterized rig hands as “a dispersed and invisible proletariat that make no mark on the urban social scene” (1980, p. 3). House’s declaration was intended in a comparative sense, distinguishing between oilfield labourers and the office executives whose buildings crowd Calgary’s downtown skyline. I would argue that rig hands do indeed influence the urban social scene, albeit in different ways than oil executives. Highly conspicuous consumption characterizes a considerable portion of the 13 rig hand paradigm. This consumption is purposefully visible to the lay public and to each other, and may manifest itself in large vehicles, expensive hobbies, lavish vacations, and multiple homes. The key appears to be that these possessions be noticeable, as they symbolize the rig hand’s sacrifice in terms of time spent with family and friends, in order to earn a large salary, as well as serving to illustrate a tangible acceptance and perpetuation of rig hand values. However, this “public visibility” can be less overt, depending on the social situation. For example, it would not be unusual for an oil executive and a rig hand to find themselves vacationing in the same overseas destinations, sipping drinks from the same bar. The casual observer would not necessarily know who was the rig hand and who was the oil executive. In this situation, perhaps the rig hand is really sending a signal to himself, one that indicates that he can mingle with “the big boys”, and so has overcome, at least in this situation, any social impediments particular to his working station. The primary draw to oil patch work appears to be the potential for earning a salary that can exceed $100,000 per year. Typical responses to inquiries about job satisfaction were in terms of pay; almost always framed in terms of, “how much?” I learned, despite opinions held by members of the lay public that oil workers are paid extremely high salaries, that most, if not all, of the rig hands interviewed believed that they were in fact, underpaid. The primary reasons for this belief appear to be due to the routine physical and emotional separations from friends and family. Owing to the nomadic nature of the job, rig workers are often absent from birthdays, graduations, anniversaries, and other celebrations. Based on my experience, the current wages earned are high enough to attract rig hands to trade potential time spent with friends and family 14 for monetary gain, but not enough to keep them from complaining about the tradeoff. Rig hands interviewed believed there was a direct correlation between staff shortages and the pay grades on offer. One driller intoned, “Better money will get you better guys, simple”, and perceptions that the pay scale was out of line with the toll the job exacts were commonplace. When a motorhand was asked what he felt he was worth, a driller in hearing distance retorted, “That’s a loaded question”, and the motorhand looked uncomfortable. After a bit more prodding he disclosed that he felt his position should pay around $30 per hour, as opposed the approximately $25 per hour he was earning at that time (July 2008). This employee was the only one that actually disclosed to me what he considered a “fair” dollar amount value for an hour of rig work. Approximate rig hand salaries were previously noted, and the rates of pay are considerable, especially since secondary education is not a prerequisite to holding a position (with the exception of the recent Journeyman Program, also discussed above). These wages, coupled to a work lifestyle that is noticeably different when compared to traditional occupations, can contribute to an economic sensibility that is typified by hyper-spending; there appeared to be little emphasis placed on long-term gain or frugality, especially among the junior hands. I spoke regularly with several of these lower-tiered employees and learned they either did not intend to be working on a drilling rig in twenty years or had no discernible long-term plans for their working future. Among the approximately twenty rig hands interviewed, only one, a roughneck, had made definitive plans to leave the oil patch (after a period of time on a drilling rig, he enrolled in a physics program at a university). Certain others, when asked if they intended to stay in the oil patch for the duration of their working lives, would answer in 15 terms such as, “I need to get outta here, but I probably won’t”. One young roughneck confided to me that a family member had a small business that he was interested in taking over, and hoped that the impending birth of his first child would provide the impetus to leave the rig and begin a new working career. Still others were unsure of future paths, preferring to wait and “see what comes”. BUYING INCREASED SOCIAL WORTH A recurrent theme that arose from fieldwork was that informants often believed that earning power was a type of social equalizer. Many of the rig hands I spoke with and observed had limited formal education. Only one was intent on pursuing postsecondary training, and several had not completed high school; one experienced motorhand had entered the working world with a sixth grade education. There exists a strong distrust of formal educational systems in the oil patch (Knight, 1984), and I was a recipient of much tongue-in-cheek joking about my own educational background. The fact that informants and I did not share the same types of values concerning money, possessions, politics, and education made it easier for them to place me into their own constructed categories. At times, my different values made for difficulties achieving credibility with informants. Early on during fieldwork, the rig manager commented that I was “no better than anyone else”. I subsequently heard this phrase directed both toward myself and others many times over the next several weeks as people began to get used to my presence. It was soon apparent that this pronouncement was generally employed for two reasons: to 16 remind someone who felt they “knew better than anyone else” to toe the line, and in reference to those who had exceeded the informal limits set for conspicuous consumption (such as a very junior employee purchasing a particularly ostentatious vehicle, or social or intellectual arrogance). I quickly caught onto this continually reinforced egalitarianism (which, paradoxically, reinforced the hierarchy of the workplace) and learned to guard against the sorts of comments that would have led to it being used against me. Soon, the phrase was used less to refer specifically to me, but I still encountered it regularly. Part of the process of rig workers “feeling out” a new member to the group consists of asking certain questions, which appear to be aimed at sussing out value sets and priorities. In witnessing rig hands talking among each other, questions often centered on how much money one earned or how much money one actually had access to. Rig hands spoke of money often; it was a recurrent theme of conversation day in and day out. Wages, hobbies, homes, vacations, and parties also received considerable attention. It goes without saying that descriptive stories or accounts of how money is spent are also appreciated, and to a degree, expected by the group. If one of the rig hands had purchased a new vehicle, his co-workers were sure to ask many questions about the purchase. The rig hand in question was then expected to actively disclose the details of the new acquisition. Owning new vehicles is a core component of the rig hand value system and symbology, and the parking area on a rig site may look like a car dealership: the highly visible trucks are a manifestation of the consumer-oriented values of this group. For example, a motorhand on the rig had recently purchased a newer 4x4 truck after owning an older, heavily used vehicle. When the truck appeared on the lease, I 17 noted that the other members of the derrickhand’s crew asked many questions about the vehicle, such as engine specifications, the year it was built, if it had been purchased used or new, the current mileage, how much had been paid for it, and what sorts of options it had come equipped with. There were also questions about adding a trailer hitch to pull a boat, and purchasing aftermarket accessories, such as different wheels and tires or adding performance engine parts. All these questions served to reinforce to the derrickhand that his purchase was a “good” one in the eyes of his work peers, and he took pride in keeping the truck looking new. Practicing conspicuous consumption is not new (see Bagwell and Bernheim, 1996; Frank, 1985); Veblen wrote extensively about it over a century ago, in The Theory of the Leisure Class (1934). As will be shown, the conspicuous spending and consumption practiced by rig hands has its own particular patterns and sensibilities. While in the field, I received the impression that purchases of large vehicles or grand homes could be seen as attempts to demonstrate that one did not need to possess a degree of higher education in order to enjoy financial success (this is strictly my own inference; no informants indicated they believed this to be true). I was led to understand that in the world of the rig hand, education should only have a single goal: that of enabling one to make more money than is currently earned. In this sense, the acquisition of education should not be seen so much as an unbridled proclamation of ego, but as an investment in the future. In this respect it is perhaps akin to a Trobriand kula prestation which is given with a view of its eventual return (Malinowski, 1922, pp. 96-99). Many informants told me of their phobias or dislikes involving classroom instruction, papers, or exams (a derrickhand, on hearing that I had enjoyed the life of a student, chimed in: “Really? Not 18 me man, I fuckin’ hate it. Whenever I have to take a test or somethin’ I get all nervous and shaky”). For some, going to school was akin to running a gauntlet, and the reward for enduring such a test was best expressed through monetary recompense. My own lack of wealth and possessions became a running joke and a great source of humour in the field. Informants took pleasure in pointing out that they paid two to three times more income tax than I grossed in salary per year. While crossing the yard to make for the rig itself, it was not uncommon for certain workers to shout out to me, asking if I was “still living on canned beans”, or to suggest that it would be nice if I was to buy them breakfast, but that I “couldn’t even afford to pay attention”. Similarly, many conversations were had concerning the amount of time I had spent in school versus the potential monetary payoff. When told that anthropology does not pay particularly well, many rig hands shook their heads, perhaps in disbelief or amazement. The notion of pursuing knowledge or learning as its own reward was not one that fitted within their value system. Certain informants frequently contested the value of academic learning. I was often asked what “good” my education level was, and when trying to explain the intrinsic value of pursuing research interests, questions would invariably turn to the monetary payoff component. When I told rig hands how much money I earned in an average year, most were incredulous, while others thought it a great sport to make fun of having such a small salary. No one told me they believed that learning was its own reward; in the rig hand paradigm, money is at the epicenter of decision, and all movements are to be made with the end goal of accumulating money in mind (“What else is there, besides money and toys?”). In those terms, pursuing anthropology does not make good economic sense. 19 ON DISPLAY As mentioned, rig hands often spend money on goods that are highly visible, be they large vehicles, designer clothing, or powerful watercraft. I argue that this type of consumption appears to exist for two reasons. First, the grand homes and lavish hobbies serve as public markers of the success of the rig hand, a success that often comes at the expense of a healthy or functional family unit or social support network. One of the motorhands I spoke with frequently had saved his earnings for several years and then purchased a large home on the edge of a golf course. He was very proud of this purchase and felt that it had improved his social station considerably. The reality of the situation was less attractive. He began to feel that some of his neighbors, who had come from families long established in business or real estate, looked down on him because of his occupation. He told me, “They’d all just scowl at me, I had the biggest house and they just resented me and what I had”. It is important to remember that many of my informants appeared to define social class largely in terms of income levels. As for the motorhand, he eventually grew tired of the hostile treatment and sold his home after about seven years. This notion of “feeling judged” by society was not unusual among the rig hands interviewed. One rig manager felt that there were negative stereotypes surrounding rig hands that continued to persist from a by-gone era. “Hotel owners still don’t want ‘em stayin’ in their places, even though half the hotel is taken up by ‘em”. During another interview, he told me that the general public believes the worst of rig hands. “People hate them because they, first, are wreckin’ the environment, they think they make too much 20 money, and they think they are a lower class of people”. One motorhand, with over twenty years of drilling rig experience, said the public perception of rig hands is that they are the “lowest common denominator, all animals. No one wants us, boy”. My second point is that heavy spending serves to reinforce the particular consumer values that have developed among rig hands. Such spending appears to form part of an alternative value system, focused around the work-group as the principal referent. The commodities that rig hands value, such as big trucks and expensive vacations, may be perceived of as “vulgar” by certain sects of the public, which can then react negatively to this particular expression of consumption. The rig hand may regard this reaction as born out of envy or jealousy, and come to believe the salary earned enables a level of acquisition that is beyond those who do not work in the oil patch. For example, a derrickhand who enjoyed recreational off-roading relayed a story to me of purchasing a new all-terrain vehicle at a dealership. The cost of the vehicle was over ten thousand dollars and he elected to pay the entire amount with his debit card. Meanwhile, at this same dealership, another man about the same age as the derrickhand was turned down for financing due to insufficient earning potential. This other customer witnessed the derrickhand casually spending a large sum of money and, according to my informant, resented it, much to the pleasure of the buyer: “He looked like he wanted to stab me in the eye”. This derrickhand related other similar instances to me and expressed pity for people who were not able to purchase with the same impunity he practiced. He did add a qualifier, though: the time traded on the job, away from his family and home, needed to pay off in a spectacular way. In this case, it was the substantial salary that acted as the dividend. This derrickhand also drove a large truck, one that was highly visible and 21 audible. While it was obvious that he took pride in keeping such a vehicle (often washed and waxed), he was quick to point out that he had “earned it” by being “out here”. For this derrickhand, highly visible material goods demonstrated that he had put in long work hours to acquire them; in his own words, “If you’re not stealing them, the only way to get ‘em is to work hard”. The derrickhand did not have the advantage of “breeding” or education; he simply had access to a large salary and used it to validate his sense of selfworth in a social situation where the defining factor was disposable income. CONCLUSIONS In retrospect, I now realize that I underestimated both the uniformity and degree of closure of the workplace culture of rig workers, as well as its degree of opposition to the normative culture of the wider society. Rig workers have a distinctive economy of conspicuous consumption, which, however, in contrast to the standard conspicuous consumption model of Veblen (The Theory of the leisure Class, 1934) does not sort them out from one another in terms of a hierarchy of social status. Rather, (and particularly with its strong “live for today” emphasis), it proclaims their status-equality among themselves, while at the same time setting themselves apart from the norms of the wider society: in Alberta, “everybody knows” that oil rig work is a way that a person with a high-school education or less can make high wages relatively quickly, but that the work is dirty, grueling, and dangerous. As noted, the ultimate token of membership is to drive up to the work site in a brand-spanking-new truck, impressively fitted with the requisite aftermarket accessories. 22 Until the day this happens, every time the new worker has to drive up in his old “shitwagon” and park it in the line of shiny trucks, he is reminded that he is not fully subscribed to the brotherhood, and his appetite to become a member is whetted. Though he might have other pressing claims on his paycheque, he goes into debt (or further into debt) to purchase the badge of membership, perhaps reasoning that he will soon get ahead of the curve and be solvent, and maybe even build up a nice bank balance. But the lifestyle, for all its rough edges, is an expensive one, and the “member” undergoes a whole series of subtle changes in his outlook on the world, in his language at work, and in his values—in establishing which things he prioritizes over which other things. I am increasingly convinced that, notwithstanding the strongly affirmed conscious model among rig personnel that “the money” was the great motivator, there must be other factors to be considered. Viewing a rig in action, one cannot escape the sense that the men actually enjoy being rig hands. The money on offer is impressive, certainly, but a two-year diploma to a technical school, or a job-based apprenticeship could enable a higher earning ability, under arguably less exacting working conditions. Owning and operating a small business is entirely possible without the aid of secondary education, and provides the opportunity for the worker to be his or her own boss. So, what is it that makes rig work attractive to these men, beyond the financial reward? I believe that the principal requirement of this job, that rig hands must continually cross between the domains of working and non-working life, is, in itself, a type of reward. There is an intrinsic value in being part of the rig hand group, just as there is in being a father or friend. As I understand it, while on the job, rig hands put on “tough” personas, often characterized by rough talk and aggressive behaviour. At home, or off 23 the job, other personas, such as that of “family man” or “buddy”, may be very different, but are just as appropriate to the various social situations. In a Goffmanian sense (1959, pp. 17-76), these rig hands quite naturally employ impression management to best serve the social situation: what constitutes appropriate behaviour or speech on the drilling site is not likely the same as at a family function or a when on a date. Membership in this particular work group is attractive for a number of reasons. First, the location of the group is most often geographically removed from the area of personal residence. This removal sends important signals to both the friends and family of the rig hand and to the larger public, directly drawing attention to the “unusual” nature of a job that requires a regular physical relocation. Second, the candidates for drilling rig work who actually “stay on” at the job are relatively homogenous (owing to a host of factors in the selection process), and display a particularly singular dedication to doing the work, even if they claim they do not enjoy it. This job is unpleasant at best, and those workers who are successful on a drilling rig need to employ a considerable resolve, in order to do the work day-in and day-out. Group membership, even if beset with periodic bursts of short confrontations, is far more meaningful when members share a common resolve; in this case, it is the determination to continue working on the rig that gives the hands a common bond. Third, the job and its requisite lifestyle, in some ways, harkens back to days of old, when exploration was new and exciting, and townsfolk were wellversed in the popular stereotypes of the “men who drilled for oil” (See Anderson, 1981; Boatwright, 1963; Gow, 2005; and Gray, 1970, for further historical accounts). The job is, in its way, imbued with a certain glamour: it pits the physical and creative capabilities of a rag-tag group of (usually) men against a host of daunting odds, including market 24 forces, the fickleness of the larger public, and the untrustworthiness of the large oil companies. The vision of the “lone wolf”, toiling against considerable odds, while highly romantic, remains deeply embedded in the rig hand paradigm. REFERENCES Alberta Energy and Utilities Board (2006). Alberta’s energy reserves 2005 and supply/demand outlook 2006-2015. Retrieved 9 February, 2010, from http://www.ercb.ca/docs/products/STs/ST98-2006.pdf. Anderson, A. (1981). Roughnecks and wildcatters. Canada: Macmillan of Canada. Andolfatto, D., & Yan, Y. (2008). Regional development patterns in Canada. Retrieved 9 February, 2010, from http://www.sfu.ca/~dandolfa/provinces.pdf. Bagwell, L. S., & Bernheim, B. D. (1996). Veblen effects in a theory of conspicuous consumption. American Economic Review, 86(3), pp. 349-373. Boatwright, M. C. (1963). Folklore of the oil industry. Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press. 25 Canadian Association of Oilwell Drilling Contractors (2010). About CAODC. Retrieved 9 February, 2010, from http://www.caodc.ca/about/about.html. Frank, R. H. (1985). The demand for unobservable and other nonpositional goods. American Economic Review, 75(1), pp. 101-116. Goffman, E. (1959). The presentation of self in everyday life. New York: Doubleday. Government of Alberta (2007). New and young workers. Retrieved 9 February, 2010, from http://employment.alberta.ca/SFW/5369.html. Government of Alberta (2009). Industry and economy. Retrieved 9 February, 2010, from http://alberta.ca/home/181.cfm. Gow, S. (2005). Roughnecks, rock bits and rigs: The evolution of oil well drilling technology in Alberta, 1883-1970. Calgary: University of Calgary Press. Gray, E. (1970). The great Canadian oil patch. Toronto: Maclean-Hunter Limited. House, J. D. (1980). The last of the free enterprisers: The oilmen of Calgary. Toronto: The Macmillan Company of Canada, Ltd. 26 Knight, K. E. (1984). Technology transfer in the petroleum industry. The Journal of Technology Transfer, 8(2), pp. 27-34. Malinowski, B. (1922) [1961]. Argonauts of the western Pacific. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press. Manta (2009). Industrial companies in Alberta. Retrieved 7 February, 2010, from http://www.manta.com/NA/Canada/Alberta/iEi-Industrial. Sunstein, C. R. (1998). Selective fatalism. Journal of legal Studies, 27, pp. 799-823. The Conference Board of Canada (2008). The labour shortage: Just the tip of the iceberg. Retrieved 9 February, 2010, from http://www.conferenceboard.ca/documents_ea.aspx?did=1711. Veblen, T. (1934). The theory of the leisure class: An economic study of institutions. New York: The Modern Library. Yergin, D. (1991). The prize: The epic quest for money, oil, and power. New York: Simon & Schuster. 27 GLOSSARY OF TERMS Derrickhand -The crew member that handles the upper end of the drill string as it is being hoisted out of or lowered into the hole. On a drilling rig, he or she may be responsible for the circulating machinery and the conditioning of the drilling fluid. Driller -The employee normally in charge of a specific drilling crew. The driller’s main duty is operation of the drilling and hoisting equipment, but this person may also assist in the myriad of daily tasks necessary to operating a drilling rig. Hitch -The number of shifts a rig hand works consecutively before taking time off. Leasehand -The junior most member of a drilling crew, often charged with performing the most menial tasks. Motorhand -The crew member on a drilling rig that is responsible for the care and operation of drilling engines. Is also considered an informal mentor to roughnecks and will assist them as needed. 28 Rig manager -An employee of the drilling company who is in charge of the entire drilling crew and the drilling rig. Also known as a toolpush or drilling foreman. Roughneck -A worker on a drilling rig, subordinate to the driller, whose primary work station is on the rig floor. Sometimes called floorhand or floorman. 29