德州页岩天然气之殇

   与此同时，关于巴奈特页岩田的宣传无处不在。切萨皮克公司为了宣传钻探页岩气的经济利益，特地重金聘请著名演员汤米•李•琼斯拍摄了一支广告。另外，它还摄制了一部名叫《页岩田的公民》（Citizens of the Shale）的电视宣传片，买断黄金时间在当地电视台播放。它还打算专门开设一家名叫shale.tv的电视台，由当地一名退休主播担任主持人。另外切萨皮克公司还与其他10家能源公司一道，成立了巴奈特页岩能源教育委员会，聘请一名经验丰富的行业经济学家负责本地的“推广”计划。

    在Grapevine郊区一座繁忙的购物中心附近有一个钻井点，切萨皮克公司就在这里成立了一座“切萨皮克学习中心”，游客可以在这里来一次“自游行”，就近参观这里的天然气钻探操作。（有一块牌子上写着：“当地家庭将通过本钻探点的多口油井受益。”）这种“钻井一日游”很快被当地市长吹嘘为“独一无二的吸引力”。

    2008年，就在天然气价勉强突破10美元时，切萨皮克公司斥资1.04亿美元，在沃斯堡市买下了一座20层的大楼，作为区域总部。

    尽管其他城市可能考虑到了城市钻井可能导致的视觉污染、空气污染和噪声污染（因为钻井必然需要设备、管道、大噪音的机械和重型卡车），但是在热情接纳了钻井业的德克萨斯州，金钱的诱惑还是战胜了少数警惕的声音。哪怕把钻井平台搭在别的地方，开采天然气还是需要井口设备、储存罐、压缩机，一个平台经常要围上三到五亩地的围墙或栅栏，重型卡车来来回回倾泻废料……这些问题在人口聚居区域很难被忽视。因此匹兹堡市后来干脆禁止在城市界内进行钻井。

    但是沃斯堡市在一位石油市长的领导下，由于坚信土地租约会给当地带来经济效益，因此只对页岩气开采出台了一些不痛不痒的限制。很快沃斯堡市开始遍布油井——在公园和乡村俱乐部旁边，在人口稠密的居民区附近，在沃斯堡市中心（因为这里被认为是巴奈特油田的一个“最佳出气点”），甚至连当地的一座公墓陵园里，都能看到高大的钻井机在轰鸣作业。

    当时，沃斯堡市掀起了“全城租地”的风潮，似乎但凡名下有立锥之地的人，都在签订钻探租约，甚至连城市本身也不例外。前文提到的《沃斯堡明星电讯报》就把自家印刷厂的钻探权卖了出去。达拉斯-沃斯堡机场也从切萨皮克公司获得了1.86亿美元的签约奖金，机场官员和切萨皮克公司CEO麦克兰登还在签约仪式上开了香槟。

    但是就在一夜之间，“页岩热”熄灭了。即便在天然气产量激增、价格猛跌的情况下，各大能源公司依旧争相签订新的租约，使有些买断钻探权的租约价格达到每亩3万美元之高。当地一个由沃斯堡市西南28家社区协会组成的联合会代表大约5万户家庭与总部位于科罗拉多州的Vantage能源公司进行了艰苦的谈判，最终达成了一项集体协定，Vantage公司同意以27,500美元每英亩的价格租赁土地钻探权，同时表示愿意遵守严格的开采限制，并且向该地区的民生项目捐赠50万美元。当地各个社区的居民可以轮流在当地的一座浸信会教堂里与能源公司签订协议，整个签约过程可能会持续好几个月的时间。

    但是到了2008年10月14日，在只签订了原定计划的五分之一的租约的情况下，Vantage公司的CEO将三位社区领袖召集在市中心的一间办公室里，告诉他们当天的签约会（当时已经在进行中）将是最后一场签约会了。50万美元的慈善捐助也宣告免谈。社区首席谈判代表托利•托马斯回忆道，在Vantage公司第二天正式宣布行动计划之前，一切都处于保密状态。

    但是消息很快泄露了出去，1000多名愤怒的群众得知协议将被取消的消息后，一齐涌至教堂，希望签订租约，继续履行协议。但是他们很多人的租约甚至都没有准备好。托马斯说：“我们当时想帮忙打印文件，尽可能让更多的人签约。”随着剩下的时间越来越少，人们变得越来越愤怒，一边咒骂一边在队列中推推搡搡，警察也赶到现场维持秩序。托马斯说：“当时空气中弥漫着恐慌的气味。”这次活动持续到午夜才结束。（在一封公开信中，Vantage公司CEO罗杰•毕曼斯表示对给当地居民造成的“任何不便”表示道歉，并称公司会遵守所有已经执行的协议，但是由于“市场波动”和天然气价格“显著下跌”的原因，公司将不再根据已谈妥的条款签订更多租约。他还补充说，未来签订的任何租约都需要“更精确地反映当前和预期的石油与天然气的基础经济因素。”

    Meanwhile Barnett Shale propaganda was everywhere. Chesapeake promoted the economic benefits of drilling with an ad campaign featuring actor Tommy Lee Jones. It produced a 30-minute infomercial called “Citizens of the Shale” and bought time to run it on local stations. It planned a regular TV broadcast—called “shale.tv”—to be hosted by a retired local anchorman. It joined with ten other energy companies to form the Barnett Shale Energy Education Council, and hired a veteran industry economist to conduct local “outreach” programs.

    On a drilling site next to a busy shopping mall in suburban Grapevine, the company erected the “ChesapeakeLearningCenter,” where visitors could go on self-guided tours to watch natural gas operations up close. (“Local families will benefit from multiple wells drilled on this site,” explained one sign.) What was soon dubbed “fracking tourism” led the local mayor to gush that it was a “one-of-a-kind attraction.”

    In 2008, with gas prices briefly over $10, Chesapeake spent $104 million to buy a flashy 20-story office building in Fort Worth for its regional headquarters.

    In drilling-friendly Texas, all this—and the lure of money for nothing—overwhelmed the few cautionary voices. Other cities would remain wary about the sights, smells, and sounds of urban drilling, which requires rigs, pipelines, noisy machinery, and heavy trucks. Even after the rigs go elsewhere, producing the gas requires wellhead equipment, storage tanks, and (often) a compressor, on a fenced or walled industrial site of three to five acres; heavy trucks come and go to haul off drilling wastes. That’s hard to ignore in a residential neighborhood. Pittsburgh would later ban drilling inside its city limits altogether.

    But Fort Worth, led by an oilman-mayor—and a citizenry thrilled with the prospect of a leasing windfall—imposed only modest restrictions. Soon there were rigs everywhere: near parks and country clubs; in leafy residential neighborhoods; in downtown Fort Worth (considered a “sweet spot” in the Barnett field); even on the grounds of a local cemetery.

    Everyone with a piece of land, it seemed, was signing leasing deals, including the city of Fort Worth itself. The Fort Worth Star-Telegram sold rights to drill under its printing plant. Dallas-Fort Worth Airport received a $186 million signing bonus from Chesapeake; airport officials and McClendon toasted the deal with champagne.

    Then, suddenly, the boom was over. Even as natural gas production soared and gas prices plunged, energy companies had kept bidding to sign new leases, driving some signing-bonus offers for neighborhood drilling rights over $30,000. One umbrella group of 28 southwest Fort Worth neighborhood associations, representing about 50,000 properties, had painstakingly negotiated a group deal with Colorado-based Vantage Energy, which agreed to pay a bonus of $27,500 an acre, abide by tough drilling restrictions, and donate $500,000 for area projects. Residents of the different neighborhoods would each have a turn to sign a lease during separate meetings that were expected to continue for months at a local Baptist church.

    Instead, on Oct. 14, 2008, with only a fifth of the leases signed, Vantage’s CEO summoned three top neighborhood leaders to a downtown office to tell them that day’s signing meeting—already underway—would be the last. The $500,000 charitable donation was also off the table. All this was to be kept secret until Vantage officially announced its action the next day, recalls Tolli Thomas, the neighborhoods’ lead negotiator.

    Instead, word quickly leaked out, and more than 1,000 frantic people rushed to the church, hoping to sign leases and collect on the offer, knowing the deal was about to be called off. But many of their leases hadn’t even been prepared. “We were trying to help pull files and get as many people signed up as possible,” says Thomas. As time ran short and the crowd grew angry, cursing and pushing and shoving in line, police were summoned. “There was panic in the air,” she says. The event was shut down around midnight. (In an “open letter” to area residents apologizing for “any inconvenience,” Vantage CEO Roger Biemans said his company would honor all executed agreements, but would sign no more leases under the negotiated terms due to “market turmoil” and “the drastic drop in natural gas prices.” Any future leases, he added, would need to “more accurately reflect current and expected oil and gas fundamental economics.”)