- Introduction
- Corporate Intent Exposed
- The Corporate Playbook / How They Got Away with It
- Crime Pays / The Corporate Profit Equation
- System Failure / Why Regulators Did Nothing
- This Pattern of Predation Is a Feature, Not a Bug
- The PR Playbook of Damage Control
- Corporate Power vs. Public Interest
1. Introduction
Before turning to the broader complexities of what this case reveals about neoliberal capitalism, corporate accountability, and the persistent failures of environmental regulation, let us look directly at the heart of the matter: The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA found that Marathon Petroleum Company LP repeatedly exceeded federally mandated limits on hydrogen sulfide (H2_2S) concentrations in fuel gas at its Canton, Ohio refinery and sulfur dioxide (SO2_2) emissions from its sulfur recovery units.
According to the Consent Agreement and Final Order (CAFO), these exceedances occurred over multiple hours, spanning months, resulting in numerous separate violations of Clean Air Act requirements. In addition, the EPA alleges Marathon’s failure to properly submit certain reports after one significant event of excess SO2_2 emissions. The legal document states that Marathon neither admits nor denies the factual allegations but has agreed to settle the matter with a civil penalty of $225,715.
Why is this so damning? Hydrogen sulfide and sulfur dioxide are well-known pollutants that pose serious dangers to public health and the environment. At high enough concentrations—and especially when encountered repeatedly—SO2_2 can irritate the airways, aggravate asthma, and cause respiratory and cardiovascular issues in vulnerable populations. H2_2S, known for its “rotten egg” odor, can be corrosive and toxic, harming respiratory health if significantly above regulated levels.
Their presence in the air is heavily regulated precisely because these chemicals pose public-health risks and can degrade air quality. Under the Clean Air Act, facilities like the one in Canton must meet strict thresholds for H2_2S in fuel gas and must ensure that sulfur recovery units capture most sulfur compounds rather than venting them into the atmosphere.
According to the CAFO, the Marathon Canton Refinery includes various fuel gas combustion devices—essentially the on-site heaters, boilers, and process units that burn gas with permitted levels of H2_2S. Marathon’s alleged violations center on repeated instances in which H2_2S levels significantly exceeded the allowable limit of 162 ppmv (parts per million by volume) under environmental regulations.
Furthermore, the sulfur recovery units (SRU) at the Canton Refinery, identified as EUs P011 and P016 in the permit, also allegedly emitted sulfur dioxide (SO2_2) in excess of the 250 ppmvd limit (on a rolling 12-hour average basis) set forth under federal and state requirements. Over 200 hours of combined exceedances were noted for these SRUs within the designated timeframe, potentially jeopardizing local air quality.
As we delve into the details, these repeated infractions exemplify a critical issue inherent in modern corporate structures operating under neoliberal capitalism: the tension between profit maximization and corporate social responsibility. The CAFO references multiple rule violations: from the federal New Source Performance Standards (NSPS) Subparts J and Ja, to Ohio’s State Implementation Plan (SIP) provisions, to the National Emissions Standards for Hazardous Air Pollutants (NESHAP) known as Refinery MACT 2. When a refinery surpasses these strict H2_2S and SO2_2 thresholds, there is a tangible risk of harm to nearby communities’ health, ecosystems, and local property values.
While Marathon has settled with the EPA by paying a civil penalty, critics might argue that such a sum represents a fraction of a large corporation’s daily operational costs. “Crime pays,” as the cliché goes, if the monetary penalty for these alleged violations is less than the cost that would have been required to either prevent or remediate the problem. Indeed, the allegations underscore how corporate greed and the logic of shareholder value under neoliberal capitalism can encourage companies to take risks that compromise corporate accountability. Furthermore, local communities often bear the brunt of the fallout—exposure to pollution, potential negative health outcomes, and decreased quality of life—even as the offending corporation moves forward.
These regulatory infractions, as laid out in the CAFO are failures of corporate ethics that point to a systemic pattern of noncompliance. The alleged misconduct also raises significant questions about whether Marathon invests sufficiently in emission-control technology or engages in robust corporate social responsibility practices to mitigate environmental harm. This context sets the stage for the rest of this long-form investigation. By analyzing both the specifics of the Marathon case and the broader pattern of corporate practices, we see how easy it can be for major industrial players to skirt or minimize the repercussions of environmental laws—and to treat the risk of fines and penalties as yet another cost of doing business.
In the following sections, we will examine how Marathon’s alleged wrongdoing (as outlined in the CAFO) is representative of a broader corporate playbook. We’ll look at how regulators can become overwhelmed, how corporate greed can trump the public interest, and the ways in which such patterns may only shift when the financial consequences of continued violations become larger than the profits reaped from ignoring the rules. Ultimately, this is not just about one facility in Canton, Ohio; it is a glimpse into a global phenomenon shaped by deregulation, cost-benefit calculations that favor shareholders over neighbors, and the persistent undervaluing of local communities’ public health.
2. Corporate Intent Exposed
The Clean Air Act sets a clear legal baseline, requiring that companies like Marathon Petroleum Company LP abide by a series of regulations intended to limit air pollution. The allegations in the EPA’s CAFO contend that Marathon consistently crossed that line when it allowed hydrogen sulfide concentrations in its fuel gas to exceed permissible levels and when sulfur dioxide emissions from its sulfur recovery units violated federal limits. The question that arises for many concerned observers is this: Was this a matter of oversight, or a more systemic choice rooted in a corporate culture prioritizing production efficiency and profit over compliance?
To be absolutely clear: in the settlement, Marathon neither admits nor denies the factual allegations. Yet the CAFO’s specifics—the hours of exceedances, the repeated nature of these events, and even the missed reporting of a major malfunction—paint a picture of a company that appears to have either failed to invest adequately in robust monitoring systems or decided that remedial measures could be deferred. We do not see in the CAFO any “smoking gun” memo stating explicitly that Marathon’s executives intended to break the law. But historically, in many high-profile cases of corporate corruption or corporate greed, we rarely see direct evidence of malintent spelled out in emails. Instead, patterns of behavior, missed deadlines, repeated infractions, and refusal to promptly rectify known issues often speak louder than words.
In a broader context, corporations in similar lawsuits have been known to adopt cost-benefit analyses that weigh the costs of compliance—new hardware, more staff, additional training—against the potential penalties for noncompliance. If it is cheaper to pay fines once caught than to proactively solve the root problem, some companies might opt for the cheaper route. This practice is not unique to Marathon or to the petroleum industry; it is a recurring phenomenon under neoliberal capitalism, where the pressure to deliver quarterly results can overshadow longer-term, socially responsible thinking. Corporate ethics thus becomes subordinated to “the numbers,” with executives often rewarded by shareholders for short-term gains, even if that means ignoring the public-health or environmental costs.
Looking at the allegations, Marathon’s “intent” is indirectly laid bare by the consistency and frequency of alleged violations. Here are key excerpts from the CAFO that shed light on that pattern:
- Over 70 hours of hydrogen sulfide exceedances for various process heaters and boilers from August 6, 2022, to May 27, 2023.
- Over 200 hours of sulfur dioxide (SO2_2) emissions above the permissible level in the sulfur recovery units (EUs P011 and P016) between late 2022 and mid-2023.
- Failure to file a required malfunction report for an SO2_2 exceedance that began on January 30, 2023, thus denying the regulator a timely understanding of the nature and cause of that incident.
Taken individually, any one of these might be explained away as a technical glitch or an unusual operational upset. Taken together, they start to look like part of a corporate pattern—perhaps not an overt decision to break the law, but a systemic acceptance of recurrent risk that shows insufficient commitment to compliance.
Legal experts often talk about “knowledge and notice”: the first time a violation happens, it may come as a surprise. But repeated violations give notice to corporate management that something is amiss, thereby creating knowledge that further action is required. If Marathon truly did not wish to see these violations reoccur, it would presumably investigate, invest in technology or improved operational protocols, and fix the problem. The alleged repeated nature of these exceedances suggests that the company either did not fix it adequately or found it more profitable to continue operations with known deficiencies.
This speaks to a broader issue of corporate accountability. Under typical models of neoliberal capitalism, companies are expected to self-monitor and self-report. Regulators with limited budgets cannot stand watch every day over the hundreds or thousands of potential emission points at a petroleum refinery. The system thus relies on the assumption that it is in the company’s best interest to stay in compliance. Yet, if the penalty structure is not severe enough—and if public pressure, via local communities or the media, remains minimal—companies might find it simpler to carry on, pay the fines, and keep reaping the profits. In such a scenario, the moral calculus of corporate ethics is overshadowed by cost considerations.
The Marathon example underscores that “intent” can be inferred when a corporation consistently fails to meet standards. Even if no single executive stands up to say, “Let us break the law,” the effect remains the same: communities around Canton, Ohio, breathe in the extra pollution, while Marathon continues its operations with minimal disruption. As we consider corporate social responsibility, we must ask: Where does a corporation’s duty lie? Is it solely to the shareholders who demand strong financial returns, or to the broader public whose air is being polluted?
Through the lens of these allegations, the answer becomes murky. Neoliberal capitalism, in which profit maximization reigns supreme, may encourage executives to adopt strategies that cut corners. If so, we can expect more enforcement actions, more settlements, and more communities placed at risk. This section has served to unearth how the alleged misconduct at Marathon goes beyond mere technical slip-ups and suggests a more systemic issue in the corporate DNA. Next, we will see how these patterns reflect a “playbook” of sorts—common steps large companies take to delay, minimize, or avoid accountability.
3. The Corporate Playbook / How They Got Away with It
Major corporations facing regulatory oversight often navigate the system in surprisingly similar ways. Although each company’s circumstances differ, certain strategies recur so frequently that they can be deemed a standard “corporate playbook.” The alleged facts in the EPA’s CAFO against Marathon highlight several maneuvers that fit neatly into this historical blueprint:
- Technical Complexities as an Obstacle to Oversight
Refineries are complex operations with dozens of emissions points—process heaters, boilers, flares, catalytic crackers, and sulfur recovery units—each requiring diligent monitoring. This complexity can be used as a shield. In many industries, corporations claim that technical difficulties made it challenging to maintain consistent emission levels or to quickly address exceedances. By pointing to the technical intricacies, corporate representatives may argue that regulators’ demands are too onerous or unrealistic. While there is some truth to the complexity, it can also become an excuse for inaction if the corporation declines to invest in the best available technology or adequate staffing. - Confusion Over Reporting Requirements
According to the CAFO, Marathon failed to prepare and submit a written malfunction report for a significant SO2_2 emissions event on January 30, 2023. The rule at 40 C.F.R. § 60.7(c) demands that owners or operators of affected facilities submit details about the nature and cause of any malfunction, as well as corrective actions taken. Missing or late reports are not just “paperwork” errors; they impede regulators’ ability to act swiftly to protect public health. Historically, some corporations have used a “misunderstanding” or “oversight” argument to justify such failures. Even if no direct malicious intent is proven, the cumulative effect is to delay accountability and reduce transparency. - Legal and Administrative Delays
The CAFO details that Marathon and the EPA engaged in a Notice of Violation/Notice of Finding of Violation (NOV/FOV) process, followed by meetings and settlement negotiations. This can stretch the timeline by months, if not years. For local communities worried about ongoing pollution, each delay means more potential exposure to harmful substances. From the corporate viewpoint, time may be used to continue operations, gather legal arguments, or implement partial solutions, eventually negotiating the penalty down. By the time a settlement is reached, public attention may have dissipated. - Modest Penalties as the “Cost of Doing Business”
Marathon ultimately agreed to pay $225,715. While not insignificant in absolute terms, critics point out that for a large refinery operation—a single day’s or week’s net profit might easily eclipse that number—such fines become rationalized as part of everyday operations. Under neoliberal capitalism, the calculus is straightforward: if you can earn more by continuing the allegedly noncompliant behavior than what you pay in fines, you might be economically incentivized to violate. This phenomenon undermines corporate accountability and fosters cynicism about the efficacy of regulation. - Reliance on Self-Reporting
The Clean Air Act and many other environmental statutes lean heavily on self-reporting. Through continuous emissions monitoring systems (CEMS), companies gather data, which they are legally obligated to share with regulatory bodies. However, if a corporation’s internal culture or standard operating procedure is lax, data can be underreported, mischaracterized, or reported so late that the damage is already done. The CAFO indeed references specific hours and concentrations of H2_2S or SO2_2 that were found to be above limits. The question is: how quickly did Marathon detect and act on those exceedances, and what internal steps were taken to prevent recurrence? - Settlements Without Admissions of Guilt
The text from the CAFO mentions that Marathon neither admits nor denies the factual allegations. This is a common hallmark of such settlements, enabling companies to avoid an official record that they “broke the law.” While it leads to resolution and the payment of a civil penalty, it also makes the deeper issues less likely to be scrutinized. Without a firm admission, there may be fewer internal repercussions—such as shareholders demanding new corporate ethics training or an overhaul of compliance procedures—since the official stance is that the violations remain alleged.
In a broader context, these tactics are hardly unique to the petroleum industry. We see similar strategies in pharmaceutical, banking, auto manufacturing, and virtually every sector where corporations must comply with complex regulations. The root cause often lies in the structural incentives of neoliberal capitalism. Companies that want to maximize shareholder returns are sometimes placed at odds with robust environmental compliance. Indeed, if compliance is more expensive than the likely penalty, basic cost-benefit logic nudges managers toward choosing the cheaper path.
Adding insult to injury for local communities is the fact that environmental burdens often fall disproportionately on lower-income neighborhoods and communities of color—leading to further wealth disparity and health inequities. Residents around the Canton refinery, for instance, have an interest in clean air, safe water, and stable property values. But their concerns may be overshadowed by corporate budget priorities that revolve around expansion, production targets, or shareholder dividends. This dynamic underscores how corporations’ dangers to public health can become systematically marginalized within corporate boardrooms.
Thus, the “corporate playbook” on display in Marathon’s case involves a series of time-tested tactics: leverage technical complexity, downplay or delay reporting, endure or negotiate modest penalties, and settle without admitting wrongdoing. This cycle can repeat until—and unless—regulators, lawmakers, or communities push back with sufficient force to change the calculus. In the next section, we will explore the economic dimension of these violations, showing how “crime pays”—an unfortunate yet apt phrase for describing the ways in which breaching environmental regulations can become a profit-generating strategy under current systems of corporate accountability.
4. Crime Pays / The Corporate Profit Equation
Perhaps the most troubling aspect of the allegations in the Marathon case, and in similar environmental enforcement actions, is the sense that “crime pays.” Or, in more precise economic terms, that noncompliance can yield net positive returns for a company operating under neoliberal capitalism. If the expected benefits (i.e., higher or more stable production output, reduced operational costs) outweigh the probable costs (i.e., potential fines and legal fees), a purely profit-driven entity might choose the path of violating regulations—even if it endangers public health or imposes economic fallout on local communities.
While the civil penalty imposed on Marathon by the EPA is $225,715, that sum might be minuscule compared to the daily revenues of a major refinery. Indeed, the CAFO references that maximum statutory penalties under the Clean Air Act can run into the tens of thousands of dollars per day per violation, but the actual settlement rarely comes close to the theoretical maximum. Enforcement agencies often weigh the defendant’s cooperation, the complexity of the issues, and the likelihood of litigation, leading to settlement figures that may, from the company’s perspective, represent a favorable deal.
This dynamic is not purely the fault of regulators, who have finite resources and heavy caseloads. Rather, it is part of a systemic design. Under neoliberal capitalism, many corporations rely on cost-benefit analyses to drive decision-making. If a new scrubber or a major upgrade to control hydrogen sulfide or sulfur dioxide emissions would cost tens of millions of dollars, the company might compare that to the cost of occasionally paying six-figure fines. For a publicly traded firm that must answer to shareholders, this is an easy calculation: prioritize short-term quarterly earnings over more expensive compliance measures. The result is that the externalities—environmental damage, public-health risks, potential economic fallout for local property owners—are effectively subsidized by the communities themselves.
One might argue that the real losers in this equation are the frontline communities in Canton, Ohio, which could face higher asthma rates, respiratory problems, or general declines in quality of life due to elevated sulfur dioxide or hydrogen sulfide exposure. Local healthcare systems bear the financial burden of treating such ailments, and families might lose work days to care for sick children. Over time, property values can stagnate or decline in neighborhoods close to the refinery if the area develops a reputation for poor air quality. These hidden costs rarely appear on Marathon’s balance sheet; they become a social cost borne by the public, not a direct corporate expense.
In the big picture, this misalignment of private gains and public burdens is emblematic of wealth disparity and the dangers corporations can pose to public health when unchecked. The concept known as the “polluter pays principle” is supposed to rectify this imbalance by forcing the polluting party (the corporation) to bear the cost of the damage. However, if enforcement is lax or penalties remain small, the principle fails. Thus, “crime pays” remains a real phenomenon—especially if the “crime” in question is a regulatory violation that yields intangible or long-tail public harm.
Moreover, the Marathon case shows how environmental compliance can be overshadowed by broader economic incentives. Refineries are capital-intensive ventures, and any unplanned shutdown, upgrade, or slowdown in production triggered by environmental compliance demands can lead to significant losses. From a purely corporate-profit standpoint, it may be less risky to skirt the rules, continue production, and use high-priced legal defense if caught.
Critics of the status quo argue that this dynamic can only change if regulators are empowered—politically and financially—to impose penalties at a level that truly deters misconduct. Alternatively, strong community activism and consumer advocacy can mobilize public pressure, leading to reputational costs for the company that might outweigh the short-term advantage of ignoring regulations. But under current models of corporate accountability, such mobilization is neither easy nor guaranteed, especially if the alleged misconduct goes unpublicized or is buried in technical documentation and legal jargon.
In a broader context, many industries—from mining to industrial agriculture—employ a similar calculus. The hidden injuries to communities and ecosystems remain overshadowed by the pace of global markets, leaving local residents feeling disempowered. The Marathon example is thus symptomatic of a “feature, not a bug,” of neoliberal capitalism, in which rules are often set up in ways that put the onus on underfunded government agencies to prove violations, while the corporation’s legal teams can draw out negotiations. That is why grassroots movements stress that robust corporate ethics must be enforced, not merely encouraged. Once more, we are reminded of the persistent question: if the cost of compliance is higher than the cost of a penalty, how can we truly protect communities from corporate pollution and corruption?
As we move to the next section, we shift focus to the government side of the equation—how regulators, presumably tasked with preventing such episodes, could allow them to continue for so long. Is it purely a matter of being overwhelmed, or does it point to deeper systemic failures that reflect the challenges of regulating powerful corporations in a neoliberal climate?
5. System Failure / Why Regulators Did Nothing
In an ideal world, the moment Marathon Petroleum’s Canton refinery began exceeding Clean Air Act limits on hydrogen sulfide and sulfur dioxide, regulators would intervene. Inspectors would arrive, fines or injunctions would be issued promptly, and the public’s health would be protected. Yet, as the alleged violations continued for many months (in some instances, from late 2022 through mid-2023), community members may ask: Where were the regulators, and why didn’t they stop these infractions sooner?
According to the CAFO, the Ohio Environmental Protection Agency (OEPA) and the U.S. EPA’s Region 5 office were indeed monitoring Marathon’s emissions and permitting compliance. The storyline reveals a more complicated reality about regulatory processes:
- Routine Self-Monitoring and Reporting
Under the federal Clean Air Act’s New Source Performance Standards (NSPS) and Ohio’s State Implementation Plan (SIP), Marathon was obligated to track and report any exceedances of H2_2S and SO2_2. When Marathon missed a malfunction report for a major exceedance, it triggered a direct violation. Even so, the regulators typically wait for the company’s quarterly or semi-annual reports, or they respond to local complaints if they suspect issues. This structured approach can create a lag, meaning that enforcement action only kicks in after repeated or significant noncompliance is documented. - Limited Resources and Vast Jurisdiction
Both the federal EPA and state environmental agencies face budget constraints. They oversee hundreds, sometimes thousands, of facilities. Conducting frequent or unannounced inspections, verifying emissions in real time, and cross-checking data from advanced monitoring systems require funding and personnel. Some critics label this phenomenon “regulatory capture,” not in the sense that agencies are necessarily corrupt, but that they operate within a political environment that often underfunds them, making them less agile and less able to impose immediate and stringent enforcement actions. It is a systemic vulnerability in neoliberal capitalism: the push to reduce the size of government can starve regulators of the resources needed to fulfill their mandate. - Negotiation Culture
Environmental enforcement often relies on negotiation. When the EPA or OEPA identifies a violation, there is a back-and-forth, as illustrated by the Notice and Finding of Violation (NOV/FOV) and subsequent settlement. This can take months to finalize. While due process is essential, the protracted timeline can frustrate local communities that want immediate corrective action. By the time a settlement is reached, the worst of the pollution might have already impacted the local population’s health, and the ephemeral nature of air pollutants makes direct links to health problems difficult to prove. - Complex Regulatory Structure
Marathon’s Canton refinery must comply with multiple overlapping regulations: NSPS Subparts J and Ja for different process units, the Refinery MACT 2 standard for sulfur recovery, and Ohio’s specific SIP rules for best available technology (BAT). While synergy among these rules can enhance oversight, it can also cause confusion. If different sections of the same facility are regulated under different standards, verifying compliance can be complicated. Each standard has different permissible limits, averaging times (three-hour averages vs. 12-hour averages), and reporting requirements. Gaps and delays can emerge in the compliance verification process. - Legal Boundaries
The Clean Air Act imposes certain legal constraints on how penalties are assessed and how far back the EPA can go when counting violations administratively. For instance, Section 113(d)(1) of the CAA typically limits the scope of administrative penalties for violations that occurred more than 12 months before the action commenced unless the Administrator and the Attorney General grant an exception. Such constraints can limit the severity of the penalty, essentially capping the financial risk for the corporation if older violations or extended episodes of noncompliance are out of reach administratively.
All these factors converge to create a system in which, from the public’s perspective, “regulators did nothing” for an extended period. But the reality is that regulatory agencies must operate within political, legal, and budgetary constraints. Even when they do act, the outcomes can be overshadowed by corporate might. This is part of the heartbreak for local communities whose health stands on the line. By the time official enforcement steps in, significant damage may have occurred.
Critics argue that the Marathon scenario, as alleged, exposes the fundamental weakness of neoliberal capitalism’s approach to regulation. The assumption that the private sector will self-regulate effectively—especially in an industry with high margins and potential for large environmental externalities—often proves misguided. “Light-touch” regulatory philosophies can leave regulators playing catch-up, responding only after repeated violations have already harmed the environment. Meanwhile, Marathon can pay a penalty and continue operating with minimal changes to its business model, especially if it sees no existential threat from the fines.
Amid this backdrop, calls for more stringent oversight, robust funding for environmental agencies, and structural changes in how penalties are calculated grow louder. Some activists want to see daily penalties that scale with a company’s revenues, making violations genuinely painful to the bottom line. Others emphasize the need for criminal liability at the executive level. Regardless of the solution, the Marathon case demonstrates the friction between public-interest safeguards and the corporate push toward profit maximization—a central feature of neoliberal capitalism.
In the next section, we examine why the alleged pattern at Marathon’s Canton refinery is not an isolated glitch, but rather part of a broader phenomenon under a system that repeatedly fails to deter or eliminate corporate misconduct. Indeed, “this pattern of predation is a feature, not a bug.”
6. This Pattern of Predation Is a Feature, Not a Bug
The allegations against Marathon—repeated exceedances of hydrogen sulfide in fuel gas, frequent sulfur dioxide spikes, and inadequate reporting—might be seen by some as anomalies or “bad apples.” However, observers of corporate behavior under neoliberal capitalism would argue otherwise. Marathon’s alleged practices reflect a broader pattern of how businesses, particularly in heavily industrial sectors, test or skirt the boundaries of environmental laws. This is less an accident of oversight than a structural trait built into the system.
1. Profit Motive Over Public Good
Neoliberal capitalism prioritizes private profit as the primary driver of economic activity. Corporations are obliged, above all, to maximize shareholder value. While business leaders and boards often talk about corporate social responsibility or corporate ethics, those principles can fall by the wayside if they conflict with immediate financial returns. When faced with choices between full regulatory compliance—potentially requiring expensive new technology—and paying relatively modest fines, the bottom line can drive decisions. This can foster a form of “predation,” in which a company’s cost-saving measures exploit regulatory loopholes or underfunded enforcement.
2. Normalization of Noncompliance
Lawsuits and settlements, such as the CAFO in this Marathon case, are so ubiquitous that they have become part of the landscape in many industries. From credit card companies fined for illegal fees to energy giants penalized for spills, corporate America routinely cycles through a series of enforcement actions. Once these fines become “business as usual,” the moral indignation that might accompany a serious offense fades. Local communities, having seen this movie before, may feel powerless. The sense that “nothing ever changes” is buttressed by settlement agreements that rarely require fundamental shifts in corporate behavior.
3. Regulatory Capture
Another factor is the phenomenon of regulatory capture, in which agencies that were meant to act in the public interest end up promoting commercial or special interests. While the Marathon case does not explicitly allege corruption, the broader environment allows for the possibility that regulatory approaches become less adversarial and more collaborative with industry. Over time, the push to protect the public can soften into a desire to maintain positive relationships with powerful corporate players—especially in regions where major employers, like refineries, wield economic clout.
4. Local vs. Global Priorities
Companies such as Marathon are often transnational corporations with refineries or operations in multiple regions. Their strategic decisions may focus on global markets, corporate expansion, or shareholder dividends. In this scheme, a local issue—like community air quality in Canton, Ohio—can struggle for attention. From the vantage of a global corporation, paying a settlement to the EPA might register as a minor operational cost. Meanwhile, for local residents, it is a major quality-of-life concern. This asymmetry of power and priorities is a central component of wealth disparity under neoliberal capitalism, where big corporations have the upper hand in negotiations and can navigate the system with ease.
5. Limited Public Outrage
One might ask: If these violations are so egregious, why is there not more public outcry or consumer advocacy mobilizing for stricter corporate accountability? Part of the answer is the complexity of these issues. Pollution from a refinery, measured in parts per million, is less immediate and visible than, say, an oil spill that contaminates a river with slick black residue. The slow erosion of air quality does not typically generate the same dramatic visuals, making it harder for the general public to rally around. Moreover, the corporation can use public relations tactics (which we will explore in the next section) to downplay the severity and frequency of these events.
All told, the situation at Marathon’s Canton refinery is emblematic of an entrenched system in which environmental harm, public-health risks, and local economic fallout are overshadowed by the constant drive for profitability. In a sense, these repeated alleged violations are not bugs in the system but features—a structural logic that says: so long as the financial upsides exceed any penalty and reputational damage, the company has an incentive to continue.
This is not necessarily about demonizing Marathon or any other single corporation. Instead, it highlights a systemic flaw: the collision of short-term, profit-driven governance structures with long-term community well-being. The consequences become measurable in higher respiratory illness rates, depressed property values, and community frustration. Some might argue that only a more radical shift—one that reevaluates the place of corporate power in society—can address this fundamental mismatch.
The Marathon CAFO offers a window into what that mismatch looks like in practice. It reveals, in black and white, the hours of exceedances, the technical rules broken, and the negotiations that concluded with a monetary penalty. But behind these pages lie real families living near the refinery, breathing the same air day after day. When we say “this pattern of predation is a feature, not a bug,” we point to the structural incentives that have made such scenarios a recurring theme in modern industrial capitalism. In the next section, we will examine the public relations dimension of these corporate maneuvers—how companies often respond to scrutiny by controlling the narrative, both in mainstream media and within their workforce.
7. The PR Playbook of Damage Control
The public-relations dimension of alleged environmental violations is critical. Once the story breaks—say, the local newspaper runs a headline about the EPA fining Marathon for excessive emissions—the company swiftly moves into damage-control mode. While the CAFO does not detail Marathon’s internal communications or official statements, a look at broader industry patterns reveals a set of recurring tactics designed to contain reputational fallout:
- Minimizing the Scale of Violations
First, the company may emphasize that the exceedances were short-lived or affected a small area. They might claim that the levels “slightly” surpassed permitted thresholds—even if the underlying data might show repeated episodes over many hours. By framing the event as a minor “process upset,” the company shifts public perception. Technically, “process upset” might sound benign compared to “violation of federal clean-air standards,” even if both describe the same event. - Emphasizing Compliance Efforts
Corporations often highlight any investments or improvements made to reduce pollution, from new filters to ongoing staff training. They may point to the enormous complexity of refinery operations and claim they are in compliance “the vast majority of the time.” Public statements will reference corporate social responsibility and show the company’s philanthropic efforts in the local community (e.g., supporting local charities, building playgrounds, or funding STEM programs). While these efforts might be genuine, they can also serve as a buffer against negative coverage by demonstrating that the corporation is a “good neighbor.” - Contesting the Health Impacts
If local residents connect the alleged violations to adverse health outcomes (asthma, respiratory issues), Marathon—or the industry generally—may argue that causation is unproven and that correlation does not equal causation. This tactic places the burden of proof on residents, who may lack the resources to conduct rigorous epidemiological studies. This dynamic can dissuade community members from pursuing complaints or lawsuits, uncertain if they can prove direct harm. - Deflecting Responsibility to External Factors
Some corporations attribute emission exceedances to sudden storms, power outages, equipment failures, or supply-chain disruptions. While such events can legitimately cause malfunctions, focusing on external triggers may overshadow the question of why backup systems or preventative measures were not in place. The risk is that the “exception” becomes routine, and the public remains unaware that repeated “exceptions” are happening behind the scenes. - Leveraging Political and Economic Influence
Marathon, like many large corporations, wields significant political and economic power in regions where it operates. The company provides jobs, tax revenue, and philanthropic donations. Thus, local politicians and chambers of commerce might be reluctant to criticize it openly. Marathon can subtly remind community leaders of the refinery’s economic significance, thereby muting calls for aggressive enforcement. This phenomenon undercuts public scrutiny and fosters a symbiotic relationship where local officials need the economic contributions, while the corporation needs regulatory leniency or positive press. - Quiet Settlements
Because the settlement with the EPA typically is done administratively, the story can fall off the media radar. Without a dramatic court battle or televised congressional hearing, the coverage is limited to a short notice that “Marathon was fined X for Clean Air Act violations.” The official line—“Marathon neither admits nor denies…”—furthers the impression of a non-event. Communities that lack robust investigative journalism may not get the in-depth coverage needed to understand the real scope of the problem.
This sophisticated PR playbook operates seamlessly under the broader framework of neoliberal capitalism. When externalities like air pollution are not “priced in” at a level that truly incentivizes prevention, corporations can instead invest in narrative control. Indeed, controlling the story becomes cheaper than drastically overhauling the industrial process to ensure near-zero exceedances. From a business standpoint, a good PR strategy is an investment that potentially yields a higher return (in terms of reputation management) than costly equipment upgrades.
For consumers and local community members, this dynamic can be disheartening. They may feel that “corporate accountability” is little more than a show, a carefully packaged message that does not match everyday realities. This fosters distrust, fueling the argument that without deeper structural changes—like stronger legal mandates, bigger fines tied to a corporation’s profitability, or more meaningful community oversight—companies will continue to walk a fine line, paying the occasional penalty but limiting the damage primarily through well-crafted PR.
Nonetheless, local activism and national media attention sometimes break through these smokescreens, forcing more transparency and accountability. The Marathon case, for instance, did at least reach the stage of a published CAFO, shining some light on its alleged infractions. Whether or not that leads to lasting change depends on ongoing pressure from regulators, communities, and the broader public demanding genuine corporate ethics. This sets the stage for our final section, where we step back and reflect on the broader clash between corporate power and public interest, and consider what real reforms might look like.
8. Corporate Power vs. Public Interest
The Marathon Petroleum case in Canton, Ohio, should not be dismissed as an isolated or merely technical dispute over permissible air emissions. It is a window into a much deeper societal conflict: the extent to which corporate power can override community well-being, and whether the frameworks of neoliberal capitalism have the capacity to bring about meaningful corporate social responsibility. The repeated alleged violations of hydrogen sulfide and sulfur dioxide limits underline a fundamental truth: when private sector priorities collide with environmental health, the “invisible hand” of the free market does not always protect the public.
The Enduring Tension
In neoliberal theory, deregulation and market-driven solutions are often heralded as the paths to efficiency and innovation. Yet, the allegations against Marathon exemplify how deregulation—or insufficiently stringent regulation—can permit companies to externalize environmental and health costs. The environment bears the brunt of pollution, local healthcare systems deal with the potential fallout, and everyday citizens cope with the intangible stress and fear that their air is not as clean as it should be. Meanwhile, corporate earnings remain largely intact.
From a purely economic standpoint, the tension is clear: the cost to implement best available technology (BAT) or to run a refinery at lower throughput (to reduce emissions) might be higher than what a corporation can stomach when measured against its profit targets. Any measure that might eat into margins must be justified to shareholders who demand returns. Under these conditions, even well-intentioned corporate ethics can falter.
Community Impact: Health, Economics, and Social Fabric
The communities surrounding the Canton refinery are likely to carry the hidden costs:
- Health: Increased risk of respiratory ailments, headaches, or more severe conditions from breathing elevated levels of H2_2S and SO2_2. Children, the elderly, and those with pre-existing conditions are especially vulnerable.
- Economics: If an area develops a reputation for pollution, property values can stagnate or decline. Young families may look elsewhere to buy homes, and local businesses might suffer as well.
- Social Fabric: Continuous tension over environmental hazards can erode trust in local institutions, from city councils to health departments. Community activism might spark friction between those employed by the refinery and those who feel threatened by its emissions. Over time, this can fracture the sense of common purpose essential for a thriving local culture.
The Limits of “Corporate Social Responsibility”
Many corporations, Marathon included, publish sustainability reports and pledge to uphold strong standards of corporate social responsibility. Yet, the allegations summarized in the CAFO highlight a gap between rhetoric and reality. Under neoliberal capitalism, “corporate social responsibility” often remains voluntary, reliant on a company’s internal priorities. Without robust external enforcement, these commitments can be overshadowed by financial imperatives. Moreover, corporate social responsibility programs, however well-funded, cannot undo the direct harm caused by repeated regulatory violations that degrade air quality and endanger public health. True accountability would require structural changes in how corporations operate and how regulators enforce standards.
Potential Avenues for Reform
- Stronger Penalties
A frequent critique is that civil penalties are too small. If Marathon (or any large corporation) pays less in fines than the cost of full compliance, it constitutes an implicit subsidy for polluting behavior. One obvious solution is to increase the penalty amounts, tying them to the corporation’s revenues or profits rather than imposing flat statutory limits. Such reforms could shift the cost-benefit equation enough to incentivize real compliance. - Mandatory Technological Upgrades
Under the Clean Air Act, the notion of the best available technology (BAT) is already present, but its enforcement can be uneven. Regulators could demand—and verify—the installation of cutting-edge emissions controls. This might involve stricter emissions limits, real-time monitoring, and automatic shutdown or flaring procedures triggered when H2_2S or SO2_2 levels spike beyond a threshold. - Transparent Real-Time Public Reporting
Technology allows for real-time reporting of emissions data that could be made publicly available online. If local residents could check a website or app to see current H2_2S or SO2_2 levels at the Canton refinery, transparency alone might spur Marathon to stay within compliance. Public attention can be a powerful deterrent when the data is immediate and unfiltered. - Community Oversight Boards
Some activists advocate for legally mandated community oversight boards, which would have the authority to inspect data, recommend penalties, and even halt operations in severe cases. Such boards could include local residents, environmental experts, and health professionals, ensuring that the voices of the people most affected have a seat at the table. - Criminal Liability for Executives
While controversial, imposing criminal sanctions for severe or repeated environmental violations can drastically change corporate behavior. If company executives faced personal risk—beyond financial penalties—to their freedom or professional standing, they might prioritize compliance more aggressively.
A Cautious Optimism?
These reforms, however, would require significant political will. Marathon Petroleum Company LP is by no means the first or only corporation to be caught in alleged violations of air-quality standards, and the track record of implementing systemic change is uneven. Historically, large companies exert powerful lobbying forces to shape legislation, often successfully watering down proposed changes that might harm their profit margins. Nonetheless, episodic moments of crisis—like major environmental disasters—sometimes spur lawmakers and regulators to strengthen statutes. The Marathon CAFO is not as dramatic as a catastrophic oil spill, but for the local Canton community, repeated air-quality violations are a persistent hazard.
Some might argue that incremental reforms are insufficient, calling instead for a broader transformation of our economic system. They would say that as long as corporations must be answerable first to shareholders, public health and environmental integrity will always be a secondary concern—unless mandated by forceful laws and enforced by well-funded agencies. But in the immediate term, smaller steps like higher penalties and increased transparency could at least reduce the incidence of violations.
The Bigger Picture
The Marathon case is emblematic of a deep-rooted conflict in contemporary society: how to reconcile corporate power with the public interest. The alleged wrongdoing at the Canton refinery—excess hydrogen sulfide, sulfur dioxide emissions, and inadequate reporting—reflects more than just a local tragedy or a regulatory slip-up. It underscores how easy it is for corporate greed, corporate corruption, and corporate pollution to outpace the slow machinery of regulatory oversight. The fundamental driver is a system structured around profit maximization, where externalities like pollution become someone else’s problem.
In this context, a $225,715 penalty is a modest road bump that may not significantly alter Marathon’s operations. The real cost is borne by Canton’s residents who live near the refinery and breathe the air—an air that should meet the standards designed to keep communities safe. If we take seriously the idea of corporate social responsibility and corporate accountability, then it must involve not only legal settlements and token philanthropic gestures but a genuine shift in priorities. Until that shift occurs, we will continue to see cycles of alleged violations, negotiated settlements, and modest fines that leave environmental harm largely unaddressed.
From the vantage of local families and environment-focused advocacy groups, the question remains: Will Marathon genuinely change its practices to avoid further endangering local communities? Or will it keep paying fines and settle for partial compliance? The answer depends, in large part, on whether the public, regulators, and legislators demand deeper reforms or settle for business as usual. In the end, the Marathon case serves as a vivid case study illuminating how corporate power, under the modern neoliberal framework, can undercut the very public interest that environmental laws are meant to protect.
We upload 4 new articles on corporate misconduct every single day! To read them as they come out, visit:
Evil Corporations neglecting safety protocols to cut costs, risking consumer harm for higher profits: https://evilcorporations.org/category/product-safety-violations/
Evil Corporations deliberately contaminating ecosystems to avoid expenses, prioritizing greed over sustainability: https://evilcorporations.org/category/environmental-violations/
Evil Corporations exploiting workers through unsafe conditions and unfair wages to maximize corporate gains: https://evilcorporations.org/category/labor-exploitation/
Evil Corporations recklessly mishandling or exploiting personal data, prioritizing profit over user security and consent, often exposing individuals to harm or manipulation: https://evilcorporations.org/category/data-breach-privacy/
Evil Corporations manipulating records to mislead stakeholders, enabling illicit wealth accumulation and systemic corruption: https://evilcorporations.org/category/financial-fraud/
Evil Corporations deceiving consumers with false claims to manipulate demand and conceal product risks: https://evilcorporations.org/category/misleading-marketing/
Evil Corporations doing corporate misconduct that doesn’t neatly fit into the earlier mentioned categories: https://evilcorporations.org/category/misc/
