On August 12, 1969, I reported for my first real job in research at Shell Oil Company.  I had gone to school for 19 years, got a couple of science degrees, and I was nearing 25.  Life seemed to be opening up.   

I didn’t see it at first, but, as a small-town boy, I was not a good fit in a large multi-national organization.  There were a lot of unwritten rules and no-talk rules. I didn’t know the rules, so I would do things and talk about things that went against the grain of important people.  It was hard to figure out who the important people even were, certainly not my boss.  Even worse, this organization didn’t seem to have much work for me to do.  Perhaps management priorities had changed since they decided to hire me.

Since things move at a glacial pace in large multi-companies, my bride and I had a year and a half of high life before the bosses figured out they didn’t need me.  During that time I became acquainted with life in the San Francisco Bay Area, a remarkable place.

One day going into work at Shell, I saw a bunch of long-haired guys and a few scrufty-looking chicks marching around the front gate at Shell’s Research Center with signs saying that Shell was run by establishment pigs who were oppressing the poor and making war with Asia.

By 1969, I had seen a lot of civil rights demonstrations and learned something about demonstrations, protests, marches, and so-called civil disobedience. The civil rights protests I had seen usually included a lot of young, informally-dressed, white people (who didn’t have much power) marching around with clearly-worded signs to get the attention of other people (who did have power) … or who had TV cameras.  In the northern USA, these demonstrations, which were often marches, usually included a few black people who were usually better dressed than the white people.   In the early 1960s, northern civil rights demonstrations were usually civil and peaceful, law enforcement officers showed respect, and violence rarely occurred.  Generally, the local politicians, and the media spoke highly of the efforts of demonstrators after the event.

The demonstrations or protests I saw on TV in southern states were quite different.  These events usually included a lot of intelligent-looking black people, who looked like grown-ups, and were wearing suits.  Although the southern demonstrators were even more civil (and orderly) than northern protesters, law enforcement officers treated them with extreme disrespect, and the local politicians and media later spoke of their efforts with extreme prejudice and disapproval.              

Of course, everybody knows the early civil rights demonstrations were about protesting that black people were being denied their inalienable rights as Americans in 11 southern states in the USA.

More recently, in1968, there had been riots in Los Angeles, Detroit, Cleveland, and elsewhere, following the assassinations of MLK and RFK.  In those days, the media were well able to distinguish protests from riots.   The events in Los Angeles, Detroit, and Cleveland were riots.

Getting back to the events at Shell Oil Company in 1969, this was my first glimpse of a new kind of protest.  It was like modern art – looking at it told you nothing – you needed a written program to tell what it was about.  Signs were poorly-worded and poorly-drawn, participants’ attire was not very stylish, and foul language abounded.  It was hard to make sense of it.

Subsequently, I learned that if you bought a local newspaper or watched TV later, one or more articulate, bookish  professors would explain what the protests were about, and why they were noble.

In civil rights demonstrations and protests, the issues had been clear, and difficult to dispute. Here, a bunch of people who looked like bums were claiming that a large oil company was disenfranchising the poor and making war on Asia.  But they weren’t claiming the oil company had taken land away from poor people or Asians, or even that they had destroyed their habitat.  It just didn’t make much sense.

Later, I learned that a similar scrufty-looking people, apparaently Stanford students, had protested at the Hewlett-Packard company making similar claims … namely, that Hewlett Packard, a company that, at the time,  made instruments for engineers and scientists, was also instrumental in harming the poor and making war on Asia.

Finally, in a kind of tour de force, a group of students at UC Santa Barbara set fire to the Bank of America, then interfered with firemen, causing the bank to burn to the ground on national TV.

At that point I started reading the papers carefully and going to the Oakland public library at night to try and figure out what was going on and why.

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The Friday after those protesters interrupted us leaving work at Shell Oil, my boss Howard Gulden drove his nifty mid-size Mercedes-Benz across Berkeley and through the tunnel to beautiful Orinda, where he and his wife had an idyllic spanish-style house.  Howie had been a stand-out performer at Shell since the Korean War, acquiring promotions, raises, and a stake in the Shell Provident Fund, our profit-sharing vehicle.

Driving up the brick-lined driveway to his ranchero, Howie spotted his daughter Ellie dancing in the side yard with her friend Allie who sometimes came home with her for a weekend.  Upstairs he could see his son Peter through the window of his room, gesturing at someone, maybe his roommate Nick.  Peter was a junior at Berkeley while Ellie was in her 1^st year at UC Davis.

The dedicated Howie being late, as usual, Patsy Gould, Howie’s wife, was calling everyone to the dinner table as soon as she had spied Howie’s red Mercedes easing up the red asphalt driveway.  In a matter of minutes six people were assembled at the table. 

Howie blessed the table by raising his glass, and everyone began to pass around the roasted chicken, au gratin potatoes, and brussels sprouts.  At first the grabbing and eating had bene pretty lusty, but after a while some of the urgency subsided, and people were munching in a casual fashion.

Howie addressed the table:  “ A funny thing happened to me on the way home from work today.”

Ellie blanched.  “Oh, Daddy, is this going to be one of those off-color jokes?”

“Not at all”, intoned Howie primly, twirling his mustache, “I observed a strange occurrence, and thought I would seek an explanation from the assembled scholars.”

“All right, then.” crowed Peter, “Let us examine this puzzle, encapsulated within an enigma, that is wrapped in a conundrum”.

“Exactly”, Howie smiled, “It is time a for a small return on my investment in the education of several scholars.”

“Today, our front gate was assaulted by a band of protesters claiming that Shell Oil is creating poverty and making war in Asia.  Their signs were not that clear, or well-worded, and I am having trouble seeing a clear connection between our Company’s activities and these outcomes.  I thought maybe some students could explain what might be going on here.”

“Oh, that’s easy, Daddy.  This was just a practice.  Some of the people from Berkeley campus are preparing for a future real protest, with issues that will knock your socks off, but they had to have some practice at protesting, and you are so close to campus, it was a no-braner.  What do you guys think?”

Howie looked uncomfortable.  “But, Eleanor, don’t they have any morals?  You think they would protest a business that has done nothing worng.”

Nick looked impish and raised his hand.  “Mr. Gulden, I am only a guest here, but here’s my thinking.  Most college students think businesses are pretty evil, and they figure a large, multi-national company must have done some really bad things.  They need to practice, and your company is nearby and convenient”.

“Now, we’re getting somewhere.” Peter was crowing again. “There is usually more than one cause for any event.  “Maybe even three or four causes.  Let’s look for a third cause.”

Now Howie was actively scowling.  “This explanation has some merit in explaining the facts, but it still bothers me a lot.  People who demonstrate and protest are supposed to be honest, scrupulous, and above reproach.  Protesting somebody because they are nearby and might be bad seems haphazard. What if we were the one business that had never done a bad thing? ”

Nick and Peter, seeing this as an amusing game, wanted to get everyone involved.  Nick looked right into Allie’s eyes.   “Mr. Gulden has a point, and Peter has said there could be three or four causes.  Let’s look for another reason for this protest at Shell Oil Co.”

Allie looked wide-eyed.  She saw they were playing the same game many professors played … putting a little pressure on to see if someone can come up with an idea or not.  She clenched her jaw. “Well, here is my perception.  I think some of the professors connect all the bad things in the world to what they call capitalism.  By capitalism, they mean economic competition where people rise and fall based on their skills, decisions, and the market  … where things do not come out equal for all.  Some of them mention Karl Marx, use terms like “the proletariat” and “the bourgeousie”, and talk about starting a “people’s revolution” that will liquidate the “opressors”, that is, people who are successful in the current market.

“I think they feel like Sheel Oil Company is an oppressor simply because it is successful in the current market.  That’s all the data they need to hate.  You could call it a kind of envy, but they call it an “altruistic zeal to make the world better.”

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