A rendering of the completed Giant Magellan Telescope during daytime in Chile.
The New York Times recently wrote about Chile’s “observatory alley,” an 800-mile stretch of the Atacama desert, a plateau high in the Andes whose clear night skies have been attracting astronomers for half a century.
The story talks about some of the existing observatories in the region, and then mentions that its also the site for the Giant Magellan Telescope that will be more powerful than any existing ground-based telescope. The GMT, as its known, is being developed by the Carnegie Institution for Science and a consortium of 13 universities and institutions. As the story notes:
When completed, the telescope will have seven mirrors, each eight meters in diameter, that together will act as a 22-meter-diameter telescope, roughly 20 times as powerful as Palomar. The G.M.T. will be built at the top of Cerro Las Campanas, two miles from the domes of the Carnegie’s existing telescopes.
Two of those universities are the University of Texas and Texas A&M University, and their involvement, as well as key funding for the GMT was provided by Houston oilman, developer and philanthropist George Mitchell. Mitchell was a key supporter of the physics and astronomy programs at A&M, and put up the funding for the first GMT mirrors. Those mirrors were nicknamed George and Cynthia, in honor of Mitchell and his wife.
I devoted an entire chapter of my biography about Mitchell to his support for astronomy and the GMT. Although neither George nor Cynthia lived to see the completion of the project, their legacy will live on when the telescope achieve “first light” sometime before the end of the decade.
Gasoline prices hit a new record this week, which sent legions of TV reporters scrambling to the nearest gas stations to interview motorists. Average prices for a gallon of regular unleaded rose to $4.96, up almost 60 cents a gallon in the past month and almost $2 from a year ago.
The pumps are rife with tales of woe — anguished truckers, motorists in a state of disbelief at how much it’s now costing to fill up, Uber drivers who say they can’t stay in business. I spent almost $70 to fill up Sunday night, which is $30 or $40 more than it used to cost me. But there’s a question that doesn’t get asked in the pump-side interviews: When do you stop?
How high must prices go before American drivers leave the SUV in the garage? In the late 2000s, when we last experienced soaring gasoline prices, oil economists theorized that $4 a gallon was the threshold at which people would drive less. It was, they said, a “psychological barrier.”
That seemed to still be true. More than half of the motorists surveyed by the American Automobile Association in March said they would adjust their driving habits if gas topped $4. But we rocketed past that barrier, and we’re now flirting with a $5 average. That same AAA survey found three-quarters of American would drive less at that point.
Five-dollar gasoline may have some impact on demand, but probably not enough to make a difference. Commuters, after all, may have limited choices. Many people who can work from home have chosen to keep doing so since the pandemic. But many can’t. They must find a way to shoulder the rising cost of their daily commutes.
Summer travel also isn’t showing much of a pull back. Sure, that cross-country drive might cost twice as much as last year, but persistent flight disruptions and a shortage of pilots has made air travel unappealing to many travelers.
At some point, prices may become so high that people stop driving, but it’s not clear what that price is. That, in theory, would cause prices to fall.
There are some signs that people are driving less. The U.S. Energy Information Administration found that as of late May, Americans consumed an average of 8.88 million barrels of gasoline a day over the previous four weeks, which is about 3 percent less than a year earlier. However, that four-week average rose steadily for most of the month. In other words, some drivers may be rethinking trips, but a lot of folks are still hitting the road.
Things aren’t likely to get better anytime soon. Benchmark U.S. oil prices are at $120 a barrel as the world scrambles to absorb the loss of Russian crude. OPEC agreed to open the taps later in the summer, but not enough to significantly reduce prices. Similarly, the Biden administration has tapped the Strategic Petroleum Reserve, but the releases haven’t had much impact on prices. In fact, as is so often the case when presidents tap the SPR, oil prices have risen.
And at the moment, global oil demand has actually dipped because of COVID lockdowns in China. When those are lifted, demand could rise again.
The problem, however, isn’t all about demand. U.S. gasoline stockpiles have been falling for more than a month, and they are now 7 percent below where they were heading into last summer, according to the EIA. This is another kink in how the markets are supposed to work. Rising prices ought to encourage refiners to produce more, which in turn should lead to more supply. Instead, output has fallen this year, even though most U.S. refineries are running at full tilt. The reason: there’s fewer of them. During the pandemic, many older refineries closed permanently. Their owners couldn’t justify the expense of maintaining them during the lockdowns, especially considering that over the long term, demand for gasoline is expected to decline. Globally, refinery closings have cost about 3 million barrels a day in lost output since January 2020, and 1 percent of that was in the U.S.
In addition, while Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has affected crude prices, it also has had a direct impact on U.S. gasoline prices because we were increasing gasoline imports from Russia, especially on the West Coast. Last year, Russia provided 21 percent of our gasoline imports. California refineries don’t produce enough to meet demand, and U.S. shipping laws make it difficult to ship gasoline from elsewhere in the U.S. Which means not only are pump prices likely to remain high, in some regions they will shoot significantly higher.
For my TV reporter friends, you might want to leave the cameras set up at the gas station for the next few months. You’re likely to be spending a lot of time there.
Today marks the 20th anniversary of Enron’s bankruptcy. I helped cover the company’s demise at Bloomberg News, and later, the various trials as a columnist for the Houston Chronicle.
In the past two decades, books, films and musicals have all explored the impact of Enron, but 20 years removed from the company’s collapse what we tend to forget most often is the shock. Enron was the seventh-largest company in the U.S., and it unraveled in about a month. America had never seen corporate malfeasance on such a large scale. We had never seen company executives working against the interest of the corporation and its employees to the degree we did with Enron. Enron touched off a wave of corporate accounting scandals in the early 2000s. Its bankruptcy, the largest in history at the time, was later eclipsed by WorldCom.
I’m often asked about the difference between the two frauds. WorldCom was the result of blatant greed. Two top executives simply abused accounting rules to line their own pockets. Enron, however, was more subtle. Executives like Ken Lay and Jeff Skilling weren’t interested in more wealth. They wanted to take risk out of the corporate equation, to find a way, essentially, to guarantee rewards. And the reward they sought was that Enron would become the greatest, most-admired company in the world, they would be heralded as business geniuses, and, sure, be rewarded financially.
The main motive for Enron’s fraud was hubris, not greed.
Accounting rules were seen not as barriers but as speed bumps that executives constantly maneuvered around. As long as everyone — including shareholders and, yes, the business press — believed what the company was saying, the stock would keep rising and all Enron’s schemes would remain hidden. It was only when the stock began to fall that the intricate web of partnerships, with all their interlocking debt agreements, began to unravel and posed a threat to the company itself.
Enron, in other words, revealed in the starkest terms how the short-sightedness can blind businesses to long-term consequences. We know that business can’t always see what’s best for itself. If you read congressional testimony surrounding the passage of the Securities Exchange Act of 1934, you’ll see a parade of executives warning that Congress was about to kill capitalism. Instead, that law laid the foundation for the most trusted markets in the world and led to the creation of trillions of dollars in wealth for millions of investors big and small.
Enron, though, was certainly the first time we’d seen a company and its executives work so blatantly against its own future. Sure, they assumed they would succeed, but their accounting methods were cavalier, and often, outright falsehoods. That lack of regard for transparency and honesty cost the company its future.
I tried to capture this notion of the disbelief about executives working against the good of their own company in my novel, The Big Empty. I hadn’t planned on it, but in one of the later revisions, my editor pointed out that the character of Blaine Witherspoon needed more motivation for the actions he takes at the end of the book. Given that the novel is set in 1999, before Enron’s demise, it allowed me to use this sense of disbelief for executive malfeasance. I don’t want to give too much away, but the Enron homage turned out to be a critical part of the plot.
My involvement with the Rational Middle stemmed from my book Deconstructed: An Insider’s View of Illegal Immigration and the Building Trades.The book and the first season of the video series were produced simultaneously. The podcast originally was designed to augment the videos and react more quickly to the news. When the pandemic hit and filing new video episodes became impossible, the podcast became our main focus. (We’re now ramping up the production schedule for new videos — but the podcast will continue. )
As the COVID-19 outbreak was gaining steam in the U.S., I was in discussions with a media partner about producing a six- to eight-episode podcast for the 10th anniversary of the Deepwater Horizon disaster. The podcast would have updated my book on the disaster from 2010, Drowning in Oil: BP and the Reckless Pursuit of Profit.(The book is out of print at the moment, but used copies are available online, and I released an updated audio version last year.)
The pandemic — and the corresponding plunge in oil prices — meant the podcast never got made. At least Sarah Silverman didn’t have to send the Pod Squad after me.
I’m always looking for new podcast ideas. What podcasts or audio storytelling would you like to see? Or, to Silverman’s point, has the format jumped the shark?
On the one hand, audio books are a popular new format, and they offer a chance to do a lot of unique things with story telling — things that I haven’t even begun to explore.
So, as I once again think about producing the audio version of The Big Empty, I’m wondering whether I should record it myself, as I did with my previous audio books, or hire a voice actor. I know this sounds strange coming from a former newspaper columnist, but I don’t like to listen to my own voice. However, several members of George Mitchell’s family said they thought I should record the biography myself. I decided to do Drowning in Oil as a test case, and then having two under my belt, I decided to go ahead with Deconstructed.
I find the audio format interesting. In some ways, you can enhance the storytelling, and as a reader, I like listening to audio books when I have a long drive or when I’m working out. (I switch back to print when I read in the evenings.)
I’ve also thought that another of my books, The Last Trial of T. Boone Pickens, would lend itself to an old-fashioned radio play, with different voice actors reading the various parts. That would require creating a script from the book, finding multiple actors and a studio where we could record the whole thing. In other words, it’s likely to be time-consuming and expensive, and I don’t know how many people would want to listen to it. But I think the results would be interesting.
It’s always hard to tell how these things will resonate with an audience. Do you like audio books? Would you prefer authors read their own books, or would you rather have other people voice the narrative? Would you listen to a radio play — perhaps a multi-episode series like a podcast —involving a West Texas oil and gas trial and a famous billionaire, told through the eyes of the lawyer who represented him?
I’m really excited to announce our newest arrival: The Last Trial of T. Boone Pickens paperback edition! You get all the thrills and excitement of the hardcover, the real-life courtroom drama, the tension between my co-author, Chrysta Castañeda and the title character, and of course a glimpse of life in Pecos, Texas — all for about half the price of the hardcover.
Officially, the paperback will be released in mid-September, and I know what you’re thinking: I can’t wait that long. Well, that’s OK. I checked with the warehouse and we still have a few hardcovers left. So feel free to order from your favorite online site, or from our bookselling site, where by the way, the book is 25 percent off.
You may note that we redesigned the paperback cover. While I loved the look of the hardcover, I realized it didn’t convey the fact that this is a woman’s story. It’s told through Chyrsta’s eyes, and as a reader, you get to experience her thoughts on what it’s like to be a woman lawyer — and a solo practitioner no less — in the world of oil and gas law.
You may also notice that the cover sports a silver seal in the upper right. That’s because the book helped our publisher, Stoney Creek Publishing Group, win a Ben Franklin award from the Independent Book Publisher’s Association for the best first nonfiction book.
Although the book is coming out in paperback, in some ways it feels a new release. The hardcover hit shelves in April 2020, just as the pandemic took hold. Our planned book signings were canceled, and although we did some virtual events, I feel as if the book got a bit lost amid the lockdowns and work-from-home orders.
So now, the book will get to have the coming out party weren’t able to give it last year. We’re already lining up dates of book signings and other events. Stay tuned!
Oh, and if you’d like to know what people are saying, here’s some advance praise: “A thoroughly enjoyable read that truly captures Boone’s character and essence. `The Last Trial of T. Boone Pickens’ had me laughing and crying as I read about all the little details of Boone’s personality and idiosyncrasies that those who knew him recognize so well.”
— Vince Taormina, Director, Clean Energy Fuels, and CEO of Taormina Industries
“Chrysta Castañeda and Loren Steffy have accomplished the remarkable. They’ve taken issues most familiar to lawyers and judges, woven them into an incredible story and presented to all an enjoyable journey through The Last Trial of T. Boone Pickens.”
— Craig Enoch, Former Texas Supreme Court Justice and founder of the Enoch Kever law firm
“A big deal in the Texas oil patch gone bad, the legendary T. Boone Pickens and his hotshot blonde female barrister, real courtroom drama—and it’s all true! I can’t wait for the movie!”
I’ve been talking a lot in this space recently about writing my new novel, but I’m also still plugging away at energy writing. This past Sunday, I was quoted in a Houston Chronicle editorial. I wrote a business column for the Chronicle for nine years, but I was never on the editorial board, and I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve been quoted in an editorial.
The topic related to the February freeze and the related power failures, which also happens to be the subject of my latest blog post for Forbes as a University of Houston Energy Scholar. The post makes the case that Texas needs better regulatory oversight that recognizes the interconnections between the electricity and natural gas systems. I explore the idea of eliminating the Texas Railroad Commission and the Public Utility Commission, and creating a new agency that combines the functions of both.
The new commission would oversee the Electric Reliability Council of Texas, the state’s grid operator, and ensure that natural gas production continued to flow to power plants during extreme weather events.
As I noted in my comments to the Chronicle, the natural gas industry has largely gotten a pass from state lawmakers when it comes to blame for the power crisis. But it’s time we recognize that natural gas and electricity are interdependent in this state, and we need someone coordinating the efforts to keep the lights — or more importantly the heat and air conditioning — on.
By the way, if you’d like to see more of my recent writings on the power failure, you can also check out my articles for Texas Monthly over the past few months.
Maybe that’s what I should have called the publishing imprint for The Last Trial of T. Boone Pickens. Self-isolation can be a great time for books. People have time on their hands and they’re looking for distractions. Heck, I used to dream of being told I had to sit and read for days on end. Be careful what you wish for, I guess.
The logistics of launching a title when traditional channels of distribution are slowing or severed isn’t easy. Many people, after all, are avoiding bookstores, just as they are other retail establishments.
Situations are changing rapidly, but for now, our printer’s facilities — all of which are in the U.S. — are still operating and Last Trial is being printed as planned. Our distributor, Texas A&M University Press, is still accepting orders, and its warehouse remains open. That means you can still pre-order Last Trial and the books will be shipped on to you once they arrive in the warehouse. However, you should expect some delays. Printing schedules seem to be stretching out a bit.
In fact, I received a notice from our distributor this morning that Amazon is temporarily pausing orders until April 5 for products that aren’t household staples, medical supplies or other high-demand items. That includes books. So, if you ordered Last Trial via Amazon it may take a little longer to reach you.
As you can imagine, any book signings or speaking engagements have also been canceled or postponed.
We at appreciate your patience. I, my co-author, the rest of the Stoney Creek Publishing team and our partners at TAMU Press are working to get books to you ASAP. We think you’ll find Last Trial is worth the wait.
If you haven’t ordered a copy yet, click here. Our website is standing by.
Not an accurate representation of how fracking works.
One of the unexpected controversies I encountered in writing my biography of Houston energy pioneer George Mitchell was the spelling of “fracking.” Many of the oil and gas sources I interviewed for the book insisted that spelling the word with a “k” was offensive. I decided to stick with the common spelling of “fracking,” but I did add a note explaining my choice:
Many geologists and petroleum engineers object to the spelling of “fracking.” Because the term is short for “fracturing,” they argue it should be spelled without the “k.” Indeed, early scientific papers written about the technique often refer to the need to “frac” a well, or the process itself as “fracing” or even “fraccing.” Phonetically, though, “fracing” would be pronounced “frace-ing.” As the technique entered the public lexicon, the “k” was added, in keeping with the tenets of English, and that is a practice I have continued
throughout this book.
Unfortunately for the industry, “frack” is also a euphemism for an expletive on the 1970s science fiction show Battlestar Galactica, and when that show was revived in 2004, the term was resurrected. The show’s popularity coincided with the widespread use of fracking. For many environmental groups, the irony was too delicious to ignore, and “fracking” became a derisive term applied to almost any form of drilling for oil or natural gas.
When the myths and hyperbole are stripped away, fracking has benefits as well as drawbacks, but for George Mitchell, it was part of a lifelong effort to make the world a better place.
This is one case where the English majors win. Of course, in George Mitchell’s day, fracking was considered an “unconventional” drilling method. Today, it’s common place. So maybe it’s time for a new term. On a recent podcast with the Houston Chronicle’s Nancy Sarnoff, I suggested “deep-earth rock massage.” Any other ideas?
It doesn’t look like the starting point for a revolution, but this well, the C.W. Slay #1, is where America’s energy renaissance began. The C.W. Slay #1 was the first well drilled into the Barnett Shale in 1981 by Mitchell Energy and Development. If you’re wondering why Saudi oil installations can come under attack in 2019 and gasoline prices in the U.S. haven’t spiked to more than $4 a gallon, it all comes back to this well.
It would be another 17 years before George Mitchell and his team figured out fracking and unleashed the natural gas reserves in the Barnett. But this is the well that convinced George Mitchell that the gas was there and made him determined to find a way to produce it.
The C. W. Slay #1 juts upward through sparse, open prairie, surrounded by a chain-link fence. The wellhead itself is only about six inches in diameter, capped by a steel valve painted a drab gray green and faded from years of scorching North Texas sunshine. Far to the southeast, barely visible on the horizon, are the skyscrapers of
downtown Fort Worth.
Mitchell Energy and Development Corp. drilled the natural gas well in 1981, piercing the Barnett Shale formation about 7,500 feet below the scrubby surface. The company operated hundreds of other wells in the area, but this one was different. This one changed the world, although it would be two decades before anyone—including company namesake George P. Mitchell and his geologists and engineers—
realized it.
Today, to workers in the neighboring gas fields, the C. W. Slay #1 is something akin to Graceland for Elvis fans. The Railroad Commission of Texas, which regulates the state’s oil and gas industry, requires companies to post a sign declaring the name of each well, the amount of acreage in the lease, the identifying number that the commission assigns to it, and an emergency phone contact. As the fracking boom raged across North Texas from 2006 to 2014, thieves who were obviously well versed in industry lore often repeatedly stole the metal marker on the C. W. Slay #1.
To those unfamiliar with the energy business, the well is unremarkable. It’s hard to pick out from among dozens of similar wellheads nearby. But with the C. W. Slay #1, Mitchell Energy, a little-known, midsized natural gas producer, took the unconventional first steps that would shake up global energy markets as dramatically as the Middle Eastern oil embargoes that dominated the 1970s. The C. W. Slay #1 and the subsequent wells drilled into the Barnett formation laid the foundation for the “shale revolution,” proving that natural gas could be extracted from the dense, black rock thousands of feet underground.
Fracking, the process for unlocking those gas reserves in commercial quantities, came later. It would be almost a quarter century, in the late 1990s, before George Mitchell and his team perfected the process that transformed the energy landscape.
Loren Steffy's Writings and Ramblings 