This year, states will begin implementing a global minimum tax rate of fifteen percent on multinational corporations with more than €750 million (about $810 million) in revenues. If these tax reforms succeed in increasing tax revenues across the approximately 140 implementing countries as they intend, these additional funds could be used to advance the social and economic rights of their citizens, especially for the most vulnerable populations, including those whose rights have been abused by corporations historically. However, the coming tax reforms are still so riddled with gray areas regarding form and function that it is too early to call the initiative a victory in corporate accountability.
Durante los 365 días desde que se bloqueó la entrada de su azúcar a los Estados Unidos por trabajo forzoso, el Central Romana ha optado por implementar sólo cambios superficiales para los cañeros y utilizar estrategias políticas en un aparente intento de hacer desaparecer la WRO.
Over the 365 days since its sugar was blocked from entering the United States, Central Romana has chosen to implement only superficial changes for workers while pulling political strings in an apparent effort to make the import ban disappear.
Last month, The Guardian revealed that Canadian pipeline company Enbridge has paid Minnesota police more than two and a half million dollars for services including the surveillance and arrest of Water Protectors resisting the company’s construction of a new Line 3 pipeline. This post situates the Enbridge-police agreement in Minnesota and violent crackdown against Water Protectors at Line 3 within a disturbing global context rooted in colonialism.
In 2019, CAL partnered with EarthRights International to update their Guide to the Foreign Legal Assistance statute. Given that the US is an increasingly difficult jurisdiction for transnational human rights cases against companies, this tool provides an opportunity for workers and community members to access key evidence located in the US even where they may not have been able to bring suit there.
One of the best documented and long-standing cases of corporate abuse in the world is the case of the Ogoni people of the Niger Delta and their decades-long struggle with Shell. As a multinational oil company, Shell has subsidiaries across the world, extracting the world’s hottest commodity from Australia to Venezuela.
In part 2, I described how the intellectual property (“IP”) morals clause has enormous potential for economic activism. It’s something that we badly need if we want to ensure that our own IP doesn’t end up fueling unethical supply chains, and it’s something that nobody currently uses.
In a classic 5-4 split, the Supreme Court ruled today that foreign corporations cannot be sued for egregious human rights violations under the Alien Tort Statute. Here is our fast-and-dirty take on the opinion. In short: the majority’s opinion appears to have more to do with market fundamentalism than the administration of justice, and sets a problematic precedent for victims’ access to remedy.
In part 1, I described the creation of the +CAL copyright licenses. I explained how and why our licenses ensure that the people and environmental inputs that comprise global supply chains are protected by the same “duty of care” that we have as consumers in the United States. Wonky lawyers may be quick to see why this is big deal, but fortunately we’re not all wonky lawyers. In this part, I’m going to discuss in economic terms why our licenses are exciting and why they lay the groundwork for a new frontier in economic activism.
Background
In March 2017, I began working with CAL on a copyright license. Our intent was to create a license that could be used by anyone to condition the use of their copyrighted works on the user’s *contractually enforceable* promise to protect human rights and the environment across the supply chains in which the copyright is used. This is a three-part post is about the creation of the license, the discovery of some exciting new potential for intellectual property commons and economic activism, and the birth of a new folk hero of the commons named activistartmachine. You can shortcut to our software license here and our Creative Commons Plus license here.
So, it’s December 20. You meant to finish your Christmas shopping early this year, like you do every year, but then life happened and here you are. Again. You want to shop local, ethical, blah blah blah, but it’s too late to order from Etsy, you missed the renegade craft fair, and there is just nothing at Ten Thousand Villages your dad would tolerate. And let’s be serious, you don’t have time for hand-making gifts for 20 people.
Environmental and human rights activists and organizations have acquired some serious enemies. Most of us know that challenging the world’s most powerful corporations is a risky business, but how risky is it?
Last week, Amnesty International released a damning report examining the role played by Shell Oil in human rights violations against the Ogoni people in Nigeria.
As we reflect on our first year in operation, we find much to be grateful for. In this short time, we have not only established a terrific board of directors, an impressive group of subject matter advisors, and obtained our 501(c)(3) tax-exempt status, we have made extraordinary progress on our substantive work as a lab.
This hour is well worth your time if you are interested in human rights law in the United States. If their conclusion about Jesner is correct, and corporate liability becomes more limited, we need to be ready with new strategies. That's what we're up to here at the Lab.
On October 11, 2017, the United States Supreme Court will hear oral argument in a case called Jesner v. Arab Bank, in which 6000 victims of terrorist acts allege that the Arab Bank enabled terrorism through serving as the financial institution of terrorist organizations. This case stands out from the pack of human rights-related Alien Tort Statute (ATS) cases on the facts in some ways, but it is the vehicle by which the Court may finally decide if corporations can be sued under the ATS.
Nike boasts of empowering women, but its garment workers tell a different story. Can you imagine the irony of sowing Equality on a shirt for a brand which is complicit in the firing of pregnant women? Wage theft? Mass faintings? Union-busting? While Nike markets themselves as champions of women’s equality, the abuses behind their factory doors expose that the only thing they champion is their own bottom line.
Since its passage in 2010, human rights advocates have wondered whether they could use the California Transparency in Supply Chains Act (CTSCA) to litigate against companies that use forced labor abroad. Hailed as ushering in a new era of legal corporate accountability, the CTSCA obligates any large company doing business in California to publicly disclose its efforts to eradicate forced labor and human trafficking in its supply chain. Here, we take a closer look at the CTSCA and how it has been used to date, and investigate whether a creative litigator could use it to benefit any of the estimated 21 million forced laborers around the world.
On July 1st, 2017, CAL's co-founder Charity Ryerson was interviewed by Amy Guth for a segment on WGN Radio regarding the plight of children around the world. Charity talks with Amy about CAL’s recent work and the importance of maintaining the rights of children.
I’ve been toying with the idea of whether Investor State Dispute Settlement (ISDS) tribunals could be used for anything but evil. Rather than repeat the many, many detailed and well-researched critiques of ISDS, this post is about whether ISDS could be used to benefit the public, rather than just expand corporate power.
I see two ways to approach this: (1) by redefining who could be a “foreign investor”, and (2) by exploring human rights counter-claims brought by governments.
It was reported today, on May Day no less, that a woman in Arizona found a note from a Chinese prison laborer in a purse she bought from Wal-Mart. Convict labor-produced goods have been making it into American (2) and European markets for years, and these notes are one of the few ways it has been uncovered. Considering that the U.S. has an unambiguous law prohibiting the importation of goods produced with forced, convict, and child labor, why is this still happening?
One of the reasons I find Corporate Accountability Lab (CAL) so exciting is that it creates a space from which we can design and test interdisciplinary, praxis-driven experiments to stop corporate abuse. As we collectively struggle to properly diagnose the structural failures that have led to the current crisis of corporate impunity, I’m trying to work out whether or not it would be fair to understand corporate accountability in our justice system today as a club good, as opposed to a public good. If we can fairly characterize corporate accountability--holding corporations legally accountable for harms they’ve committed--as a club good, we can better expose the structural faults we collectively seek to repair.
Human rights and labor advocates often raise the possibility of using the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act (18 USC § 1962) (“RICO”) to sue companies who violate human rights overseas. At first glance, this seems like a great fit. The Act provides both civil and criminal liability for individuals and organizations, including corporations, engaging in a pattern of certain criminal acts (including murder, extortion, bribery and other crimes) that are often involved in human rights abuse cases. So why can’t foreign victims of torture, murder or crimes against humanity at the hands of U.S. companies operating abroad bring RICO suits for damages?
