Analyzing Formosa Plastics
tschuetzThe Formosa Plastics Global Archive supports collaborative analysis, organized around shared research questions, for example:
The Formosa Plastics Global Archive supports collaborative analysis, organized around shared research questions, for example:
The U.S. subsidiary of Formosa Plastics Corp (1301.TW) has agreed to pay $7.5 million and to cooperate with plaintiffs to settle an antitrust lawsuit alleging the company and others curbed the supply of a widely used chemical in a scheme to inflate prices. (Scarcella, August 16, 2023)
“When the government of Taiwan planned for the future of Taiwan several decades ago, it focused exclusively on industrially stimulating the economy. It has been promoting that kind of economic growth and development since the 1970s, making it appear as if industrial growth is the only factor to consider with regard to the country’s future. In the name of progress and economic revitalization, state-led industrialization walks hand in hand with private corporations. Together, they compete for the world’s largest petrochemical plants. The industrial development policy of Taiwan is one of the factors in the loss of Taiwan’s coastal wetlands, the subsiding of land from industrial water withdrawal and sand mining, and the increase of toxic air emissions, contaminated water, and toxic buildup of metals in soils (Wu and Wu 171–2). This “macroeconomy” policy ruins bioregions.” (Chang, 2023, p. 171)”
The Taiwanese Formosa Plastics Corporation (FPC) is the tenth largest petrochemical company in the world. Focused primarily on the production of polyvinyl chloride (PCV) resins (Wu 2022), the FPC is the main subsidiary of the larger Formosa Plastics Group (FPG), a vertically integrated, global conglomerate that owns businesses in biotechnology, electronics, and logistics, among others (Wikipedia 2020). Formosa’s four main subsidiaries (all petrochemical companies) account for an estimated 10 percent of Taiwan’s gross domestic product (Wu 2022). The most important sites for production are Formosa plants in Yunlin County (Central Taiwan), Point Comfort (Texas), and Baton Rouge (Louisiana). Enabled by the shale gas boom discussed above, plants at all three sites are subject to ongoing expansions, including a proposed $200 million plant in Texas, and the $12 billion industrial complex in Louisiana. Formosa also operates a steel plant in Central Vietnam that is the focal point of much local and transnational activism.
Formosa’s current economic and cultural standing is deeply connected to Taiwan's history of industrialization. The Formosa Plastics Corporation and Group were founded by Wang Yung-ching and his brother Wang Yung-Tsai in Kaohsiung in 1954. Born under Japanese occupation, Wang Yung-ching made a living selling and delivering rice as a young boy, and later operated his own rice shop as a teenager. Eventually, Wang transitioned into the lumber business and benefited from market liberalization following the end of Japanese colonial rule (Lin 2016). However, since US military forces destroyed one of his mills during WWII, Wang received $800,000 from USAID, which he used as capital to found Formosa Plastics (Shah 2012). Until his death in 2008, Wang became one of Taiwan’s richest persons and remains widely known as the “god of management” (Huang 2008).
In Taiwan, conglomerates like the Formosa Plastics Group are called guanxiqiye (“related enterprises''), a colloquial term for tightly-controlled, family-owned businesses. According to anthropologist Ichiro Numazaki (1993), the expression emerged from 1970s business discourse and quickly became a self-identifying status symbol for many corporations (Numazaki 1993, 485). Numazaki argues that Chinese trading tradition (emphasizing partnerships) and Taiwan’s vexed relationship to Japan and China contributed to the rise of family-owned enterprises. Daughter Cher Wang has co-founded important businesses outside of the petrochemical sector, including consumer electronics company HTC. However, the Formosa family has also experienced a series of conflicts: in 1996, Wang Yung-Ching expelled his son Winston for extramarital affairs, who later became involved in ongoing efforts to disclose his father’s substantial tax evasion (Offshore Alert 2018). Today, the Formosa Group is in the process of transitioning key positions away from family members (Taipei Times 2021).
Formosa’s operations have further been shaped by Taiwanese politics and cross-strait relations with China. Considered a moderate liberalizer, Wang held close ties to Taiwan’s democratic party, but also continued to push for expansion in the Chinese mainland during his lifetime, often leading to conflicts between Taiwanese and Chinese administrations (Lin 2016, 81). In 1973, Wang’s plans to build a large petrochemical complex in Taiwan were halted by the authoritarian Kuomintang (KMT) government, but following the lifting of martial law in the mid-1980s, Formosa made a second attempt, suggesting to build the complex in the scenic Yilan County (Ho 2014). Rising concerns over petrochemical development and pollution, however, led to mass protests by local residents and fisher people, creating a landmark moment for Taiwan's larger democracy movement (Ho 2014). In face of this opposition, Wang arranged secret trips to mainland China, and later announced that the plant would be built on the island of Haitsang in Xiamen province. Yet, economic sanctions between China and Taiwan, combined with pressure by the nationalist KMT government, eventually led to construction of the vast petrochemical complex in the rural and impoverished Yunlin County in Central Taiwan (Lin 2016, 82).
ENVOI
p.232: "In these pages, I have repeatedly emphasized the complicity between subject and object of investigation. My role in this essay, as subject of investigation, has been entirely parasitical, since my only object has been the Subaltern Studies themselves. Yet I am part of their object as well. Situated within the current academic theater of cultural imperialism, with a certain carte d'entree into the elite theoretical ateliers in France, I bring news of power lines within the palace. Nothing can function without us, yet the part is at least historically ironic. What of the poststructuralist suggestion that all work is parasitical, slightly to the side of that which one wishes adequately to cover, that critic (historian) and text (subaltern) are always "beside themselves"? The chain of complicity does not halt at the closure of an essay."
p217: "[Subaltern Studies] can never be continuous with the subaltern's situational and uneven entry into political (not merely disciplinary, as in the case of the collective) hegemony as the content of an afterthe- fact description. This is the always asymmetrical relationship between the interpretation and transformation of the world which Marx marks in the eleventh thesis on Feuerbach. There the contrast is between the words haben interpretiert (present participle—a completed action—of interpretieren— the Romance verb which emphasizes the establishment of a meaning that is commensurate with a phenomenon through the metaphor of the fair exchange of prices) and zu verandern (infinitive—always open to the future—of the German verb which "means" strictly speaking, "to make other"). The latter expression matches haben interpretiert neither in its Latinate philosophical weight nor in its signification of propriety and completion, as transformierien would have done. Although not an unusual word, it is not the most common word for "change" in German—verwandeln. In the open-ended "making-other"—Veranderung—of the properly self-identical—adequately interpretiert—lies an allegory of the theorist's relationship to his subject-matter."
p217: "If it were embraced as a strategy, then the emphasis upon the "sovereignty,... consistency and...logic" of "rebel consciousness" (EAP, 13) could be seen as "affirmative deconstruction": knowing that such an emphasis is theoretically nonviable, the historian then breaks his theory in a scrupulously delineated "political interest."19 If, on the other hand, the restoration of the subaltern's subject-position in history is seen by the historian as the establishment of an inalienable and final truth of things, then any emphasis on sovereignty, consistency, and logic will, as I have suggested above, inevitably objectify the subaltern and be caught in the game of knowledge as power. Even if the discursivity of history is seen as a fortgesetzte Zeichenkette, a restorative genealogy cannot be undertaken without the strategic blindness that will entangle the genealogist in the chain. Seeing this, Foucault in 1971 recommended the "historical sense," much like a newscaster's persistently revised daily bulletin, in the place of the arrogance of a successful genealogy. 20 It is in this spirit that I read Subaltern Studies against its grain and suggest that its own subalternity in claiming a positive subject-position for the subaltern might be reinscribed as a strategy for our times.
What good does such a reinscription do? It acknowledges that the arena of the subaltern's persistent emergence into hegemony must always and by definition remain heterogeneous to the efforts of the disciplinary historian. The historian must persist in his efforts in this awareness that the subaltern is necessarily the absolute limit of the place where history is narrativized into logic. It is a hard lesson to learn, but not to learn it is merely to nominate elegant solutions to be correct theoretical practice."
p. 214: "Reading the work of Subaltern Studies from within but against the grain, I would suggest that elements in their text would warrant a reading of the project to retrieve the subaltern consciousness as the attempt to undo a massive historiographic metalepsis and "situate" the effect of the subject as subaltern. I would read it, then, as a strategic use of positivist essentialism in a scrupulously visible political interest. This would put them in line with the Marx who locates fetishization, the ideological determination of the "concrete," and spins the narrative of the development of the moneyform; with the Nietzsche who offers us genealogy in place of historiography, the Foucault who plots the construction of a "counter-memory," the Barthes of semiotrophy, and the Derrida of "affirmative deconstruction." This would allow them to use the critical force of anti-humanism, in other words, even as they share its constitutive paradox: that the essentializing moment, the object of their criticism, is irreducible.