That perception has now become synonymous with environmental degradation, landslides, and displacement.
Until now, many mining companies don’t see the importance of sharing their stories to the public — and when you’re not telling your story, someone else will.
I realized through my many encounters with miners and engineers that this reluctance to communicate is not because the industry has something to hide, as many critics suggest, but because these people prefer to spend their time and resources improving operations and looking for new technologies.
Approval ratings are for politicians, not miners
This is why, believe it or not, there are mining companies that still don’t even have a communications team, let alone an entire department.
In their view, storytelling doesn’t reduce downtimes in the mine, and approval ratings are the concern of politicians, not miners. For most players in the sector, the priority is compliance.
But this attitude has made mining an easy target. When disasters occur, it is often more convenient to blame an industry that has remained notoriously silent than to dissect the deeper issues — rapid urban development, lack of livelihood opportunities, weak enforcement of ‘no build zones,’ penury, and at the heart of it all, corruption.
Miners, along with their current and potential host communities, are now bearing the cost of this long-standing silence more than ever. A photo of mine tailings from a decade ago is still being used to tarnish current mining operations.
In some areas, residents who support the start of mining operations in their communities are often drowned out by the louder voices of NGOs that view all extractive activities as inherently harmful.
Stories rarely told in mining communities
When you visit a mining community, however, the stories — though quiet and subdued — offer a different perspective. In these places where government support is scarce, mining often serves as an important lifeline.
In Surigao, you’ll hear about the story of a dump truck driver who was able to put his children through college — the first in his entire family to do so. In Palawan, you’ll find a mining company leading efforts to protect one of the world’s most important habitats for seabirds.
In the north, scholarships are provided for members of indigenous communities as a means to marry centuries-long tradition with modern science and technology. It may be a bitter pill to swallow, but the truth cannot be denied: mining, beyond the minerals it provides, is a major tool for progress.
Setting the record straight
Through this column, I hope to offer – and perhaps even surprise – the public with a glimpse of these stories. There are many misconceptions about the industry that need correcting — misconceptions that I myself used to believe.
With several engineers, geologists, environmentalists, and community developers around me, I hope to share this space with them in the hope of normalizing discussions about mining. The only way forward is to face these stigmas head-on.
When I was offered to write for this publication, Dax Lucas, the founder, warned me about the criticisms I may receive, adding that I should have the “courage to be disliked.”
My only wish is that the readers will keep an open mind. This column, after all, is not for ideological non-believers, but for people who have the courage to learn something new and the humility to accept to be proven wrong. A healthy debate doesn’t hurt anyone, save for a few egos.
Karl Ocampo is a former business journalist for the Philippine Daily Inquirer and now serves as the media and communications manager at Nickel Asia Corp.
