Anglo American’s Bristol Bay Controversy: Wildlife vs. Mineral Riches

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Cynthia Carroll, dubbed Cyanide Cynthia by critics, sees Pebble as a chance to prove that Anglo can be "sensitive to the environment" and help the community. | photograph by Chris Floyd

When Cynthia Carroll became CEO of Anglo American in early 2007, more than a few longtime executives at the 91-year-old mining giant were stunned.

Here was a petite, blond, effervescent American woman parachuting into a $10-billion-a-year company that had always been led by a South African man who'd paid his dues with years of company servitude. Was Carroll, a 51-year-old largely unknown mining executive, really up to the job?

Once in place, Carroll announced that she was not going to tolerate the 30-plus annual mining deaths that had become the norm at Anglo. That was in May. By the beginning of June, the number of employee deaths had climbed to 27. Then the head of the platinum operations in Africa called, his voice quavering. He had bad news: two more casualties.

Carroll was furious. Without consulting Anglo's board or convening a fancy committee, she ordered that the South African mine where the majority of the deaths had taken place be shut down immediately so that the 27,000 employees could undergo new safety training. Ultimately, the mine's shafts were closed on a rolling basis over the course of five weeks, costing Anglo millions.

"I told people, 'I will not lead a company that is killing people,' " Carroll recalls, sitting in her stylish offices at Anglo's headquarters in London. "By shutting down the mine, we sent shock waves through the organization. I don't think anybody ever imagined we would do such a thing." But she made her point -- and erased any lingering doubts about whether she was tough enough.

Now Carroll is focused on another outsized goal. She is seeking to build a copper, gold, and molybdenum mine in a pristine region in southwestern Alaska called Bristol Bay that's home to one of the planet's largest wild-salmon populations. The project is so risky that it had been languishing on the corporate back burner until Carroll seized upon it -- and so controversial that she has picked up a new nickname: Cyanide Cynthia, an allusion to the toxic chemical used to extract gold.

The opposition to the so-called Pebble mine is passionate, sophisticated, and well funded. Nine Native American tribal councils, nearly all of the local commercial salmon fishermen, most of the sport fishermen who fly in during the summer, and a handful of environmental organizations all insist, loudly, that a large mining operation would devastate the salmon and poison the water.

For Carroll, Pebble is a chance to demonstrate that Anglo can be a kinder, gentler mining company -- one that can prosper despite increasingly tight government regulation, social pressure, and environmental rules. "I really thought that we could go about doing Pebble in a way that would bring world-class standards, both in terms of the need to be sensitive to the environment and to make a difference to the community," she says. "This is something we know how to do."

Pebble could also be hugely lucrative for Anglo's portfolio. The vast deposits -- 74 billion pounds of copper, 87 million ounces of gold, and more than 4 billion pounds of molybdenum -- could be worth half a trillion dollars. Or it could be the biggest project the company has ever had to walk away from. Either way, it will be a test case for Carroll's strategy.

And that nickname? She's unruffled. "Our chairman said, 'I can't stand it,' " she says, chuckling, "but I don't get too worked up over any of that."

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On a cold, windy day almost a year ago, Carroll flew to Alaska to tour half a dozen exploratory drilling sites and have lunch with a dozen native Alaskan women in Iliamna, just 20 miles from Pebble. She listened to their worries about lack of opportunity for their children. "I have four children, and I know what it's like to worry about them," she told the women, promising to look into building a day-care facility for mine workers. On the same trip, she met in Juneau with another woman who has made a mark in a male-dominated environment, Alaska governor and now vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin. Carroll says she sought support for Pebble, but the governor declined to take sides, saying, "We have to listen to the people." Turns out that listening to people is a classic Carroll move.