The Oilfield Palace Part 3: Energy Crisis

The Oilfield Palace Perimeter in the Middle East.

With control over one trillion barrels of oil in reserves ^[1], OPEC’s immense influence cast a shadow over the entire world and its economies. For years, a looming energy crisis plagued the United States, for it had become too dependent on foreign energy. Slowly, a secret energy war was being waged as technological innovations in fracking sent shockwaves around the world, threatening the economic stability of several nations dependent on oil revenue. I was blissfully unaware for some time despite working in the industry and residing in the region at the center of it all—The Middle East.

Since the 1960s, OPEC had been adjusting their global output and engaging in borderline predatory pricing practices. With over half the oil reserves in the world ^[2], the countries comprising the Middle East were primary contributors to these practices.

However, the innovations in fracking allowed the United States to produce oil from previously unyielding shale rocks ^[3]. Together, geology, wireline (my area of expertise) ^[4], drilling, and fracking contributed to the shale boom in the United States. For the first time in decades, the United States not only met rising energy needs but also became a net exporter. Foreign dependency on energy seemed a thing of the past. OPEC retaliated by maintaining their production levels, effectively flooding the global market with oil, and starting a price war to win back market share and bankrupt U.S. shale producers. The result was a precipitous drop in the price of oil (and many oil-related stocks). Consequently, countries heavily dependent on oil revenues faced economic meltdown, and the members of OPEC suffered heavy losses as the shale producers endured.

I had learned all of this after waking up from a nap in class one day. It started with panicked chattering, a concerned classmate, and a British accent.

“Ol chap, have you heard about Venezuela?” inquired Jordan, the charming British classmate I had met. The news had caused great clamor in the classroom.

I peered at him through half-opened, aggravated eyes. “Damn it, Jordan. Let me nap! We’ll talk about it at tea time.”

“They’re on the brink of collapse, mate. The low oil price has been rather detrimental to their budget.” Jordan nudged me several more times.

“Well, this sucks,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“Indubitably, Ol chap,” Jordan replied. I pictured him wearing a monocle and drinking a cup of tea with pinky extended as he said it.

Yes, all dialogue is genuine. We do speak like this to each other.

“No, I mean…it sucks because I left all my shits to give back in my room.” I was finally fully awake, with sarcasm levels at maximum.

“No need to be sarcastic, mate. You could have simply stated you didn’t give a shit,” Jordan replied, “I will be stationed in South America. This unfortunate turn of events will affect me greatly.”

“I apologize, old sport,” I said, “…hey, you know what? Let’s go get some hot chocolate. It’ll make everything better.”

We made our way towards a beverage machine in the hallway. It was capable of making many different drinks at no cost to the students.

As usual, the rooms and foyers were pristine. The cleaning staff had wiped everything down early in the morning—like they do every morning. The large five-story lecture buildings alone required over 100 members of the cleaning staff. I never once noticed trash on the floor, inside or outside the buildings. Spotless. Every time.