My Land My Work BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT AND LARGESCALE MINING IN PAPUA NEW GUINEA ABSTRACT

‘‘MY LAND, MY WORK’’: BUSINESS

DEVELOPMENT AND LARGE-

SCALE MINING IN PAPUA

NEW GUINEA

Nicholas A. Bainton and Martha Macintyre

ABSTRACT

Purpose – This chapter analyzes landowner business development andeconomic sustainability in the context of large-scale mining in Papua NewGuinea with a focus on the Lihir gold mine. It pays particular attention tothe social implications of success or failure of business development inmining contexts.

Methodology/approach – This chapter is based upon ethnographicresearch and social impact monitoring studies conducted by the authors inLihir between 1994 and 2012, as consultants and employees of the Lihirmining operation and as independent researchers. This chapter is alsobased upon broader research and consulting work undertaken by theauthors at other mining locations throughout Papua New Guinea. Theresearch is intended to explore the social changes generated by large-scalemining and related forms of business development, and the factors andstrategies which constrain or enable landowners to get what they wantfrom capitalism.

Engaging with Capitalism: Cases from Oceania

Research in Economic Anthropology, Volume 33, 139–165

Copyright r 2013 by Emerald Group Publishing Limited

All rights of reproduction in any form reserved

ISSN: 0190-1281/doi:10.1108/S0190-1281(2013)0000033008

139

NICHOLAS A. BAINTON AND MARTHA MACINTYRE140

Findings – Business development in resource extraction enclaves isstructurally different from other nonresource development contexts andproduces a more dependent and client-based approach to capitalism.In Lihir, research and ethnographic observations indicate that landownerbusiness development is highly territorialized, which is captured by thelandowner catch cry ‘‘My land, my work.’’ Ultimately, mining has pro-vided significant economic opportunities for the local community, butthese economic changes, especially through the distribution of mine-derived benefits and opportunities for business development, have involvedprocesses that have divided people and entrenched inequalities.

Practical implications – In Papua New Guinea, the close relationshipbetween property ownership, landed interests, and capitalist engagementcreates steep challenges for sustainable business development in resourceenclaves. This research provides a strong foundation for exploringalternative strategies for economic development.

Originality/value – Provides detailed insights into the social, economic,and political factors which influence sustainable business development inPapua New Guinean mining enclaves.

Keywords: Business development; mining; dependency; sustainabledevelopment; Papua New Guinea; Lihir

INTRODUCTION

James Ferguson’s study of the Zambian Copperbelt presents a grim view ofthe lives of miners, when mining – the industry that industrializes, urbanizes,and transforms a subsistence-based economy into a modern capitalist one –declines and ceases (Ferguson, 1999). Historically the situation is verydifferent in Papua New Guinea (PNG), not only because of the ways thatthe workforce is recruited and organized, but also because of the ways thatthe constitution preserves customary rights over land. ‘‘Landowners’’ – thecustomary owners of the land and resources being developed – wield a greatdeal of influence over the daily operation of mining projects and thedistribution of any related economic benefits. Their demands typicallyinclude large compensation packages and privileged access to employment,‘‘spin-off ’’ businesses and contracts with the developer, such as the

Business Development and Large-Scale Mining in Papua New Guinea 141

provision of labor and equipment hire, catering, and other mine-relatedservices. Mining companies often represent these businesses as positivecontributions to the national economy and as examples of their commitmentto economic sustainability. There is no doubt too that many Papua NewGuineans who benefit from employment or royalties or various forms ofcompensation believe that these benefits will contribute to their economicadvancement. But many also believe that this might be achieved through theestablishment of a business.

Much has been written about the ways that Papua New Guineans haveembraced the use of cash and capitalist enterprise. Entrepreneurial endeavorsand various economic activities that have been introduced since the firstcolonizers arrived have been scrutinized by anthropologists for decades(Akin & Robbins, 1999; Epstein, 1968; Finney, 1987; Gewertz & Errington,1999; Gregory, 1982; Salisbury, 1970; Strathern, 1971). In the main,anthropologists – even those such as Finney and Epstein who stressed theways that Papua New Guineans held views about work, wealth, and entre-preneurship that were consonant with capitalism – have argued that inchoosing to embrace capitalism, the social and cultural values attached towealth accumulation, distribution, and consumption remained steadfastly‘‘Melanesian.’’ In some ways this chapter will continue that tradition as wediscuss the success and failure of local business development around the Lihirgold mine in PNG. But we are especially concerned here with the socialimplications of success or failure in the context of large-scale mining projectswhere the transformation of the economy entails dramatic changes in socialrelations over the life of the mine, which in the PNG context is often themajor determinant of significant inequalities.

This chapter draws upon a combined engagement with the Lihir gold minethat spans over twenty years through independent research and social impactmonitoring studies for the company.1 We reflect on the range of overlappingand sometimes contradictory ways in which Lihirians have approachedbusiness development and engagement with capitalism more generallythroughout the different stages of the mine, from negotiations, constructionand early operations, to the current operational phase. In doing so, weemphasize the sorts of cultural responses to mining which not only shapelocal economic behavior but are likely to also influence the sustainability ofthe post-mining economy. In considering the ways that Lihirians engage withthe cash economy through business enterprise we emphasize the changingtrajectory of people’s relationships to the mining project, to the company,and to the major beneficiaries of royalty and compensation payments overthe life of the project – the landowners from the mining lease areas. We are


especially interested in people’s capacity to get what they want fromcapitalism in terms of economic development, personal wealth, status andimproved living conditions, and the social structural changes that haveaccompanied various forms of economic engagement through resourceextraction. We explore the dialectical relationship between the broaderprocesses of encompassment (LiPuma, 2001), whereby existing forms ofsociality and economic practices are reconfigured by global capitalism, andlocal expressions of agency manifest in a seemingly rapacious desire forchange driven by the wealthy elite and ambitious landowners. The articu-lation between and within these different levels has simultaneously produceddeep social ruptures and innovative cultural reflexes.

We argue that business development in resource development enclaves isstructurally different from other nonresource contexts and produces amore dependent and client-based approach to capitalism, which in someways is symptomatic of a wider national dependency upon resourceextraction. At the national level, the Government has outlined acommitment to business development in their Papua New Guinea Vision2050 plan which sets goals to increase the number of Papua New Guineansparticipating in economic activities and the number of medium sizedenterprises. To a large extent the Government’s strategy relies upon theresource boom to stimulate new business activities including value-adding,support services and supplies. We have found that there are few resourcearea landowners who establish businesses in order to merely survive. Fromthis perspective, enterprising landowners are perhaps best described as‘‘opportunity entrepreneurs’’ rather than ‘‘necessity entrepreneurs.’’ At theheart of this distinction is an expectation for business opportunities – anextension of an existing national ‘‘ideology of landownership’’ which isfrequently manifested in rent-seeking behavior (Filer, 1997). The expecta-tion for ‘‘compensation as development’’ still remains, but there is anadded sense of entitlement to exclusive business opportunities played outin the struggle over the role of patron and client. Such territorializeddevelopment effectively constructs relations of dependency and serves toundermine the goals of sustainability as business development remainsfinancially, politically, and spatially tied to individual resource develop-ment projects. But even when companies attempt to develop more sustain-able economic models that might benefit greater numbers, those veryelements of Melanesian society which tend to ‘‘menace the miningindustry’’ (Filer, 1998), including limited scales of social cooperation anda multitude of divergent interests, work against corporate, national, andlocal interests. Moreover, when the sort of instant lottery riches delivered


through mining benefits merge with existing notions of prestige and wealthdistribution, local engagement with capitalism is often characterized byconsumption rather than enterprise and accumulation.

EXPECTATIONS OF DEVELOPMENT

Mining relies upon a finite resource. While individual mine sites have adefinite life-span, over the past decade the major global mining companieshave worked hard to develop the image of a more sustainable industry(see, e.g., International Council for Mining and Metals (ICMM), 2008;Minerals Council Australia (MCA), 2005; Mining, Minerals, and Sustain-able Development (MMSD), 2002). There has been an industry-wide shifttoward greater social and environmental accountability and more emphasisupon facilitating social and economic development that will sustaincommunities, or entire regions, into the post-mining era. Companies nowface closer scrutiny against a range of international performance measures,although to a large extent improved practice remains dependent upon self-regulation and voluntary commitment to higher standards, which can reifyauditing over actual performance (Kemp, Owen, & van de Graff, 2012;Macintyre et al., 2007).2

If the PNG State has historically lacked sufficient capacity to closelyregulate the activities of multinational companies, in some ways this hasbeen balanced out by the ability of project area landowners to exercisetheir ‘‘rights’’ and to ‘‘regulate’’ or at least influence mining operations toserve a raft of local interests. It is for this reason that commitments to‘‘best practice’’ are not so much the result of corporate altruism but more apragmatic reality of doing business. In the PNG operational context, whichincludes a volatile political landscape comprising empowered and expectantlandowners (Allen, 2013), good corporate citizenship, or the developmentand maintenance of a ‘‘social licence to operate,’’ is inextricably linked tomanaging social and political risk and maintaining ‘‘business continuity’’(see Owen &Kemp, 2012). However, when business risk is the primary driverfor investing in landowner businesses, this invariably compromises theagenda of sustainability.

Mining companies frequently present economic sustainability as anobjective (to governments, landowners, shareholders, and society at large),but in practice this goal is rarely realized. This is partly because, historically,in the start-up phase of an operation, many companies have necessarilyconcentrated on the development of businesses that supply goods and


services to their enterprise rather than those that might flourish indepen-dently of the project and be economically sustainable beyond the life of themine. It is also due to the ‘‘capital logic’’ of each operation which determinesthe schedule for the repayment of loans and the attainment of profits andinfluences the outcomes of the project, even when these appear to have littleto do with mining (Gerritsen & Macintyre, 1991, pp. 37–40). However, atdifferent stages in the life of a project companies will shift emphasis, and insome circumstances companies will be better placed to invest in broaderforms of economic development. The life-span and size of a project arealso important, as smaller and shorter projects allow less time to realizesustainable goals. In all cases, the money from loans, compensation, andwages facilitates new forms of entrepreneurship and generates new patternsof consumption. Compensation payments provide ad hoc injections of cashinto the local economy which soften the impacts of business inefficiency.Even those businesses that appear to be independent of the mine, such aslivestock projects, commercial food crops for local consumption, transportservices, clothing stores, supermarkets as well as small village trade stores,are often profitable only because of wages or the general increase in thecirculation of cash throughout the local economy.

The experience of people on Misima Island (in Milne Bay Provinceof PNG), who had a mine that was closed in 2004, indicates that whenemployment ceases small businesses collapse, as people have little money tospend. The remittances from qualified tradesmen who go to work in othermines cannot substitute for the level of income available during localoperations. Those businesses that have been established to support miningactivities usually close down. Although the development of such contractorcompanies is presented as an opportunity to ‘‘go national’’ and so gaincontracts on other mining developments, in fact each new project is expectedto support its local landowners in such enterprises. The tendency forlocalisation, which is exacerbated in island locations, militates againstcommercial viability beyond the life of the mine. Local landowners, in mostinstances, simply will not allow another company from elsewhere in PNG tocome and work at ‘‘their project.’’ The argument often being that thesebusinesses similarly excluded outside involvement in their own locations – sothe circle of localized, relatively short term, project dependent businessdevelopment becomes further entrenched.

Cash cropping and other primary industries theoretically provide eco-nomic opportunities that will carry on beyond the mining operation. But inreality these activities are rarely as lucrative as contracts with the mine, andfarmers are often reliant upon the transport infrastructure maintained by


the company, even more so in island locations. Nor is this always considereddesirable work. As Ferguson (1999) observed of Zambian miners, people donot really want to go ‘‘back to the land’’ when mining stops. In PNG, manypeople attempt to start businesses with the aim of accumulating wealth anddiversifying their income in ways that will ensure that they are not reliantupon subsistence farming or cash cropping. Mining companies, aware ofcriticisms about enclave development and the problems of sustainabilitybeyond mine closure, invariably establish business development offices thatare tasked with promoting tandem projects (such as some form of cashcropping) during the life of the mine. However, working the land (or fishing)is often redolent of the ‘‘hard work’’ of a pre-modern economy, as sub-sistence farmers or plantation laborers, and lacks the prestige of a business –where one can sit in an office, employ other people, and drive around in acompany car, or as one Lihirian man once told Macintyre, ‘‘wear shoes andsocks all the time.’’

PLANNING FOR BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT

IN LIHIR

The Lihir gold mine commenced operations in 1995 when an IntegratedBenefits Package (IBP) Agreement was signed by the landowners, thecompany, and the Government. The agreement specified that the peoplewhose land fell within the Special Mining Lease (SML) area would notonly receive royalty and compensation payments and new houses if theywere relocated, but that they would have privileged access to ‘‘spin-off ’’businesses, training, and employment.

The Lihir gold mine is located on the main island of the Lihir Group ofIslands in New Ireland Province. The mining lease area is relatively small,yet the social and economic footprint of the mine has encompassed theentire group. Lihir is divided into 15 local-level government wards withapproximately 40 villages scattered along the coastal fringes. Land rights areprimarily vested in matrilineal clan groups that are distributed throughoutLihir. The main ‘‘landowner villages’’ of Putput and Kapit were relocated in1995 to make way for the SML area where the mine is located and thecompany townsite, camps, and airport are located near Londolovit andKunayie villages. These so-called ‘‘affected area’’ villages contain the largestconcentration of lease area landowners and have subsequently received themost economic benefits. Over the past twenty years the local population hasgrown from less than 10,000 Lihirians to approximately 16,000, coupled


with approximately 7,000 migrants seeking new economic opportunities andaccess to services (Bainton, 2013).

In 1994, Rolf Gerritsen, a development economist, and Martha Macintyreprepared a social risk assessment for the Lihir gold mine, commissioned bythe Export, Finance and Investment Corporation, an Australian govern-ment institution that was the initial insurer for the project (Gerritsen &Macintyre, 1995; Moody, 2005). Having previously collaborated on theMisima mining project (Gerritsen & Macintyre, 1986), they had by that timebecome very familiar with the problems surrounding the influx of moneyinto communities in the first phase of a mining project, so they stressed theneed for tandem development to reduce dependency on the mine.

Gerritsen and Macintyre’s brief involved recommendations concerningthe mining company’s support for the establishment of businesses thatwould serve the needs of the company’s activities – this included recom-mendations on a locally owned company that had been formed to providecatering, cleaning, and maintenance of the camps where fly-in/fly-outworkers were accommodated; earth-moving companies that could quarryand supply coronus, and make and grade roads; and a security and main-tenance company for the airport facility. There was also a need for laborhiring services, building contractors, vehicle sales and servicing, a fueloutlet, waste collection and disposal, and a hotel for business visitors. Asupermarket, post office, and banking facilities were also planned. In short,from an island that previously relied upon subsistence farming and had onlya few trade stores, Lihir suddenly needed numerous businesses to supportthe mine and to service the needs of the employees who lived there. Many ofthese services were to be provided through private contracts with the mine,which created opportunities for local business development. The role andpresence of the government also expanded as the District Office adminis-tration staff increased fivefold and a police station with several stationedofficers was required.

By 1996 all of these businesses had been established. In this early phasealmost every village had at least one building company. The construction ofroads and relocation houses alone generated a great deal of business and asthere was work for unskilled laborers in such tasks a very large percentageof the male population was able to earn money. Lihirian leaders drove ahard bargain during negotiations, and for some Lihirians these changessignaled the emerging realisation of previous dreams of ‘‘becoming a city’’ –an all-encapsulating vision of the new modern world (Bainton, 2010).

Support for local business development was initially provided throughinterest-free loans and the company’s business development section gave


advice and training in business planning and management and freebookkeeping and accountancy services. During the construction and earlyoperational phase (and continuing in the current era), company supportentailed a hierarchy of interests. Maintaining good relations with land-owners meant that these landowners had first claim on business develop-ment opportunities (which is a common approach in PNG) – since they hadlost land that previously provided their subsistence livelihoods. In the earlydays people whose land had not been used by the mine generally acceptedthis arrangement and in a larger sense, this acceptance underpins theinstitutionalisation of localized business development throughout PNG.

Looking back at the prevailing Lihirian ideas about business, employ-ment, and economic development during the construction phase of the mine,much of which centered upon ideas of prestige and modernity, it is easy tosee that the majority of people in Lihir had relatively little understanding ofthe ways that they could initiate economic development in the form ofbusinesses – how they could establish companies and secure businesscontracts with the mine. There was a core group of men who had formaleducation, who had worked for government and in private companies, andwho were striving to ensure that Lihirians gained control over all majorbusiness developments. But in this early period they had to work with oldermen who had been designated ‘‘clan leaders,’’ or ‘‘landowner representa-tives,’’ whose major concern was gaining cash from various forms ofpayment as opposed to running businesses – reflecting the earlier belief heldby some landowners that once the mine began nobody would have to workagain as they would all receive ‘‘compensation’’ (the term most often usedfor any financial benefit).

In the light of later developments during the renegotiation of the IBPAgreement between 2000 and 2007, when there were many returnedLihirians who were formally educated, experienced in working in towns, andmore astute in their assessment of where business opportunities might lie,it is salutary to recall that in the very early days of the mine they were adistinct minority. While the company managers dealt mostly with thiseducated elite and so considered that they represented Lihirians, they werein fact a minority whose views were unrepresentative. At that time therewas community resentment toward them as ‘‘greedy’’ in their demandsfor business development and their actions jarred with local appeals to‘‘custom’’ that emphasized unity and egalitarianism. Over time there hasbeen a persistent tension between the ethics of distribution and reciprocityand the accumulative practices of the new elite (whether they have gainedwealth through mining benefits or business success), which has dramatically


restructured clans, dissolved corporate solidarity, and transformed ‘‘every-day’’ and ceremonial exchange practices. But in retrospect these men werethe ones who ensured that Lihirians had some influence in policies andcommitments by the company that protected local companies, paving theway for later business success.

Early plans for businesses had arisen as landowners and the widerLihirian community, national government politicians and public servants,and the provincial administration officials had bargained with the miningcompany for the benefits that would flow from gold production. As inprevious PNG mining contracts, the mining company had to deal directlywith the local landowner organisation (the Lihir Mining Area LandownersAssociation) and it was this body that argued strongly for control over‘‘spin-off ’’ businesses. In Gerritsen and Macintyre’s (1995) report and forthe purposes of negotiation a proposed umbrella company, provisionallycalled ‘‘Lihir Holdings,’’ was to be established.

At that time the landowner organisation appeared to be strongly arguingfor the general benefit, stressing the need for shares, for large enterprises tobe divided between different clan groups (so, for instance one clan was toown the company that catered for the camp, another would have the fueloutlet license, another would have an earth-moving company, etc.). Therhetoric of business development appeared to embody ideals of commu-nitas. Yet even before the umbrella company could be registered, three menwho had participated in negotiations went to Port Moresby and registereda company as ‘‘Lihir Holdings’’ in their names. They had hoped in doingthis to gain control over the management of all companies and to be ableto claim contracts from the mine that had been designed with the name‘‘Lihir Holdings’’ as the contractor. This created some problems that wereresolved by adopting a new name for the landowner group’s company –Lakaka. But it is indicative of a pattern that was quickly established, whichis by no means unique, whereby individuals would attempt to gain controlover business ventures and exclude others who had an interest, by fairmeans or foul. Often the ways that people went about this were clumsy andeasily detected – but some succeeded in excluding family members from‘‘family businesses’’ and others simply struck out alone in order to gaincontrol over businesses and to become the primary beneficiaries of theprofits.3

Despite public appeals to custom and equality, in practice competitiveeconomic behavior has become completely normalized. Leaders are notbeing disingenuous when they assert the need for ‘‘balanced’’ or ‘‘parallel’’development. Their statements reflect genuine concern over the socially


divisive effects of capitalism as it is experienced through large-scale miningand the unequal power relations between Lihirians and the company. Butultimately there is a contradictory process at play: as leaders externallyproclaim the importance and unity of the community in moral opposition tocorporate profit maximising motives, this masks the internal divisions thatare exacerbated through daily actions and the pursuit of new economicopportunities.

THE FIRST RUSH OF MONEY

The early phases of negotiation and construction of mining in PNG aretypically marked by spectacular changes in consumption as cash flows in.In Lihir, throughout the early to mid-1990s, this was a heady period ofoptimism, excitement, and social upheaval. As compensation paymentsfirst poured in and as business enterprises were established, coupled withthe sudden availability of paid employment for people who had nonepreviously – and the promise of royalties over the following decades – thisall contributed to the general feeling that this small island community hadhit the jackpot.

Although the influence of earlier socio-political movements that promiseda new world order cannot be discounted as an influence in the unrealisticexpectations of Lihirians during the initial stages of mining (Bainton, 2010;Patterson & Macintyre, 2011), we want to stress the range and variationsin notions of wealth acquisition and people’s engagement with businessopportunities. Some held to the fantasy that they would no longer have towork and would enjoy the wealth from mining in the form of a perpetualincome stream. Others had no experience of running a business but wereeager to do so. A few had experience and understanding of business enter-prises and were able to immediately take advantage of the company’s offer ofinterest-free loans to assist in the process. Some were relatively unconcernedabout opportunities in small businesses and wanted to ensure agreementsthat would place them in managerial positions within the mining companyand assist in setting up large companies that could be contracted to takeon all aspects of construction and mining. The mining operation’s need forreliable service provision meant that there was also a more certain wayof gaining an income – becoming a ‘‘silent partner’’ with an establishednational company, such as Ela Motors or Avis Car rental – and as discussedfurther, this kind of arrangement has come to typify an ideal of landownerstatus.


The major beneficiaries of compensation payments initially conceptua-lized their engagement with capitalism mainly in terms of consumptionrather than productive business enterprise. In interviews they mentionedwhat they would buy – at that stage invariably a truck – and then discussedthe ways that they expected to live on store bought food, buy beer, clothing,and other goods. They expected royalties to provide them with a regularincome that would sustain their lives of newfound luxury forever.4 When noroyalty payments were forthcoming (and after considerable work by thecompany’s community relations team explaining how royalties related toproduction and the price of gold, which at that stage was significantly lowerthan today’s price) there was a spate of compensation claims – especiallyfrom those who had been relocated and had little gardening land. Theresettlement allowances given for the first six months were finished and fewhad even planted new gardens, believing that they would not have to ‘‘workfor food’’ again. In the first two years of the project much of the money,whether acquired as compensation, wages, or loans, was spent quickly onconsumables and many of the newly acquired vehicles had been written off.

The payments for compensation (for loss of land, crops, water, etc.) wereoften substantial – in the thousands of kina5 – and these payments wereinitially accepted as payment for loss of land. As the effects on people’s livesbecame apparent, further claims for compensation were made – for dustpollution as the roads were built, light pollution from the plantsite, for thenoise and disruption caused by explosions, and for the deaths of pigs anddogs that wandered onto the newly made roads (Kirsch, 2004). In mostinstances these were paid. One effect was the expectation that there would bea continuous flow of money in the form of compensation.

At the other extreme were people who saw the advent of construction andthe influx of money as an opportunity to engage in village-based commerce.They did not borrow money but set up roadside stalls selling betel nut andsurplus produce from their gardens and small ‘‘canteens’’ or trade stores.There was also a flourishing black market in beer. In many ways theseexperiments with petty capitalism, while dependent upon the circulation ofcash from the mine, were approached in a more independent manner com-pared to landowners’ businesses.

There were also numerous instances during those early years wherecompany advisors exposed frauds that outsiders attempted to perpetrate,but in several respects this only increased suspicion among Lihirians that themining company was determined to deny them real access to the capitalistsystem – that they were withholding the secrets that would ‘‘unlock’’ aconstant stream of benefits and greater control over mine operations.


Throughout this time, it became apparent that many people (especiallythose who encountered the confidence tricksters who convinced them ofhigh percentage profits and the millions of dollars that was simply waitingfor them if they invested their money) had limited knowledge of howinvestment worked. This lack of knowledge is not restricted to PNG, manypeople around the world have similarly limited understandings of moneymarkets, including in countries where capitalism has been the dominanteconomic system for centuries (Strange, 1986). Some Lihirians at thistime, however, had a great deal of disposable income, with more to come,and they were easy targets. This was also the heyday of money scams suchas ‘‘Mani Rain’’ and ‘‘U-Vistract,’’ the home-grown Ponzi schemes thatpromised returns on investment as high as 100% per month (Cox, 2011). Itscoincidence with the first large payouts for compensation from the minesaw many Lihirians lose thousands of kina. The appeal of these schemestapped into local desires for immediate riches and ideas about capitalismbased upon the instantaneous arrival of mine-derived wealth.

THE NEW ‘‘PRESTIGE ECONOMY’’

This initial embrace of resourced-based capitalism was largely manifest inchanges in consumption and ostentatious displays of wealth. Beer, cars,trucks, boats, clothing, electrical goods, supermarket foods, and cookedfood were the goods most desired. This was what getting money meant –spending it and showing people that you had it. This emphasis certainly fitswith ideas about Melanesian competition being expressed in conspicuousconsumption or what the surrealist essayist Georges Bataille termed‘‘economies of excess’’ (Bataille, 1994). But there is a marked differencebetween these goods and those that were formerly considered ‘‘wealth.’’While beer and supermarket foods can be incorporated into feasts, the mostexpensive items (such as trucks) cannot – and these are the things mostdesired. And whereas pigs and yams were things that everybody could growand raise, goods bought with money differentiate those who have moneyfrom those who do not. As a result, the ebb and flow of ceremonial exchangehas been eclipsed by the arbitrary access to mining benefits played out in anever-expanding and quickening competition as different clan groups channelmore wealth into customary activities.

Although competition to obtain business opportunities has deeply dividedpeople, customary feasting has become a means (perhaps now the only one)of expressing clan solidarity, even if at the same time these events also


expose the differences between ‘‘landowner’’ and ‘‘non-landowner’’ groups.These occasions provide opportunities to reassert ideologies about theimportance of the clan, but they are simply moments – performative eventsthat punctuate the daily rhythms of social change and dramatically proclaimcultural distinctiveness (to mine management and the migrant population aswell as to themselves). The feasts occur much more frequently now, perhapsin part because buying pigs and yams has become easy for some. They alsofulfil a need to assert leadership and claim prestige, and constitute a way ofenacting and reinforcing a belief in the importance of the clan and groupsociality. As such, the contemporary feasting complex might be regarded asa kind of ‘‘custom cult’’ – a desperate response to the divisive modernitygenerated by resource development as it has occurred in this location.

The new prestige economy exemplifies ‘‘encompassment’’ – the processwhereby pre-capitalist forms of wealth, value, and social status are subsumedand reconfigured by the engagement with the global capitalist system(LiPuma, 2001, pp. 19–21). Increasingly, money and the status associatedwith being successful ‘‘businessmen’’ determine roles in intercommunityfeasting. The new displays of asymmetry and inequality that are manifest incompetitive feasting retain forms and meanings that have a long culturalhistory, but they are encompassed by those that have come with changedrelations to land (as landowners in the lease areas benefit far more thanthose outside it), changed relations of production, and the shift to a casheconomy. As Lihirians assert their status as patrons through their attemptsto ‘‘manage’’ processes of economic transformation, they are simultaneouslyengulfed by the forces of capitalism. On the one hand there is an active ormaximising agency, on the other their lives are over-determined as the priceof gold and the success of the mine set the range of possibilities for Lihirianlandowners and reinforce relations of dependency.

During the early years of the mine, saving, investing, or devising means ofaccumulating more capital were issues on the minds of few Lihirians. Formost people the project of wealth-making was viewed primarily as findingways to extract more concessions from the company. There were constantstruggles over compensation, shares, jobs for Lihirians, and resentment atthe lack of management positions for local people. The assertion ofownership of the gold resource was a constant issue as few Lihirians reallyaccept the notion that the mineral resource is owned by the State. Lihirianexceptionalism and secessionist tendencies fueled vehement opposition tothe company when contracts went to people from other areas of PNG andhostility toward migrant workers increased, underscoring localized forms ofproject dependent business development.


The desire to make money is certainly a factor behind landowner interestin owning or running a business. But there are other social motivations thatare derived from Lihirian ideas about prestige or gaining status (Banks,2007). Having a business was seen by many as a way of displaying one’sposition as a landowner. Mainly, those who applied to the company for abusiness development loan appeared to be intensely interested in acquiring amotor vehicle or boat and only secondarily concerned with the type ofbusiness they wanted. Many took their cue from already establishedbusinesses, such as building companies, which meant that there was aproliferation of such businesses for a short period. This ‘‘copycat’’ approachto business invariably ensured that many were not viable as there weresimply not enough contracts available.

Few Lihirians were prepared to introduce competition in the form ofbidding lower than the amount that they had heard was paid previously to asuccessful company. In a discussion in the late 1990s with three disgruntledmen who had not gained building contracts (each had tendered a slightlyhigher price than a recently awarded contract), they explained to Macintyrethat to bid lower would have implied that they were ananit (Tok Pisin –‘‘underneath,’’ of lower status) the clan group who had gained the earliercontract and that they bid higher in order to show that they were antap (TokPisin – ‘‘on top,’’ superior) of their rivals. In this way, inter-clan rivalries aretransferred to the realm of business; the allocation of contracts antagonisesand exacerbates existing differences, prompting some to sabotage or blockbusiness development activities.

Although many Lihirians demonstrated a rather surprising disregard for‘‘rational,’’ competitive business strategies, a few who were able to capitalizeon the situation expanded their business activities rapidly during this period.There were two very successful businesses that had preceded the mine – aliquor outlet and a large tradestore in the affected area villages. With theestablishment of the mine, these businesses expanded and thrived. Both wereowned and operated by Lihirians who had returned to the island afterworking away from the island for several years. These men were shrewd,careful in maintaining control over their day-to-day operations and keptaloof from others in their villages. They were in many ways ‘‘loners.’’ Theliquor storeowner employed only his own sons and a few men who werepaid extremely low wages. The trade store keeper explained that he wouldnot employ anyone who was related to him and for several years employedonly young people from East New Britain, whom he also housed. Similar tomany other business owners, both of these men insisted that the mainproblem for retail businesses in PNG are the demands of families and


wantoks (relatives) to extend credit on goods. They also thought that familymembers were also far more likely to steal – knowing that a relative wouldprobably not prosecute them. Their success highlights the problems thatmany Papua New Guineans face in building up their businesses or main-taining their affluence, as the demands of kin present a distinct threat totheir position or the viability of their enterprise (Gewertz & Errington, 1999;Martin, 2007). Unlike traditional items of wealth, such as shell money, itis far more difficult to hide cash or trade store goods to avoid demandsharing.

INSOLVENCY AND SABOTAGE

Small business failure in the context of mining development is intriguing,mainly because several of the economic circumstances that frequently causeinsolvency elsewhere in PNG (such as low and intermittent cash incomes;problems with supply because of transport delays and inefficiencies; pooraccounting skills; and theft and embezzlement) should not obtain, or at leastnot to the same extent. Theoretically, support from business developmentofficers and closer contract management should help to mitigate thesefactors. Yet the vast majority of Lihirian small businesses begun in the firstyears of the mining project failed because of insolvency. So did some of thelarger businesses. But we have also found that business failure is oftena result of deliberate sabotage, which is again closely connected to theso-called ‘‘resource dependency syndrome’’ (Filer, 1998).

Discussion of business failure in PNG is in some quarters a sensitiveissue, often provoking a defensive tu quoque response that ‘‘small businessesfail at spectacularly high rates in developed countries too.’’6 The perceptionof high failure rate of small businesses in Australia, however, and possiblyelsewhere, appears to be one of those ‘‘zombie myths.’’ Rates as highas 80% are sometimes claimed for small business failure in the first year ofoperation. The actual rates of failure, according to several studies, rangebetween 9% and 35%, depending on how ‘‘failure’’ is counted. ‘‘Exit’’ frombusiness operations accounts for the higher estimate, including cessationof businesses because of death of the owner, sale, or merger with anotherbusiness enterprise and other reasons that are not economic. Failure due toinsolvency is rarer.7 In PNG, and particularly in Lihir, we have found thatinsolvency is the most common reason for failure of businesses, especiallysmall retail businesses such as village trade stores (see also Kuehling, 2005,Chapter 6).


Local agricultural projects that supply produce to the mining camp messare an obvious choice for local business development. Early attempts by themine camp to purchase local produce (such as eggs, poultry, fish andvegetables) struggled with securing a regular supply and these projects endedup more like elementary community relations exercises than businessdevelopment. A returnee from Lae initially embraced a poultry project withenthusiasm. The company’s agricultural staff provided assistance with theproject and imported feed from Lae as part of the establishment process.When the food ran out the owner was incensed to discover that he wasexpected to purchase feed regularly with the profits from his egg sales. Hestormed out of the company office, spent a great deal of money on beer, andabandoned his birds to death from dehydration and starvation.

A piggery was proposed, funded, and supported by the company asanother ideal business project that could be sustainable beyond the life ofthe mine. Pigs were imported from East New Britain that were larger thanlocal pigs and it was envisioned that the pigs would be sold to village ownerswho could in turn breed from them and sell pigs to the local community. Aslaughtering facility was planned so that meat could be produced and soldto local consumers and the catering company. The large pigs were muchadmired and within weeks most had been given away at feasts or killed forconsumption by the businessman involved. The cultural prestige factor wasirresistible and giving away huge pigs was a guaranteed strategy fordisplaying wealth. The demise of this business caused considerable ill will.He was, like the chicken farmer, furious when he discovered that a newsupply of breeding stock would not come courtesy of the company andkilled off the last pig – a pregnant sow – to the horror of many Lihirians.

A vanilla plantation project failed when all the beans were stolen just asthey were ripe. A large-scale vegetable project failed when conflict broke outbetween villagers claiming ownership of the land (which had been acquiredby the Catholic Church a century previously and leased by the miningcompany) and stopped all people from entering the area. A maricultureproject to produce crayfish for sale was sabotaged by men who were angrybecause they had not been given a comparable business venture. The can-crushing machine donated to the women’s association (as a way of raisingfunds and dealing with the thousands of aluminium cans littering the island)was very successful in generating income. Some men resented the venture’ssuccess and claimed that it should be given to them as a business. When theywere thwarted they smashed the machine.

These cases illustrate the ways that some Lihirian people constructed themining company as a source of constant funding and regarded such things


as ‘‘interest-free loans’’ as gifts to which they were entitled rather than seedfunding from which they were expected to grow an ongoing business. Ineffect, various forms of financial and advisory support were construed interms of reciprocity – the land and resources being used by the mine hadinitiated indebtedness that was continuous. All benefits, including businesssupport, were thus a form of due rent (Ballard, 1997). While many no doubthoped that they would make money from their businesses, they were notunduly concerned about failure as they believed that the mining companywould refinance them, or pay off their debts, or give them a lucrativecontract that would enable them to do so.

While this view of reciprocity and indebtedness might be characterized as‘‘Melanesian’’ it also reveals a lack of awareness about the ways that loanswork and of business acumen more generally. Interviews with recipients ofloans at the time suggested that many were not being disingenuous whenthey asserted that the loans were ‘‘free money.’’ Moreover, the response of‘‘cutting off the nose to spite the face’’ when their hopes for a business orperpetual financing were foiled occurred so regularly as to be a Lihirian, ifnot a ‘‘Melanesian’’ or ‘‘cultural’’ trait. Allowing all the chickens to die,smashing the can crusher and letting several hectares of vegetables rot inthe ground were typical of the reactions when people were angry orresentful.

In all, during the years 1996–2001 no fewer than 16 such incidents wererecorded that effectively ensured that a business failed. Such acts might beconstrued as evincing the ‘‘ferocious egalitarianism’’ that is sometimesclaimed to be a Melanesian cultural trait, but most Lihirian people attri-buted them to a more ferocious competitiveness, anger, and envy (TokPisin bel hat; jelas). These are perhaps manifestations of the same egali-tarian proclivity, but they are a far cry from the dispersal and redi-stribution of wealth that is assumed when people speak of Melanesiansinvesting in the social realm and so expanding their prestige. Unlike otherdocumented cases of sabotage (Scott, 1985), these ‘‘levelling’’ acts aredirected both vertically toward dominant forces and horizontally towards‘‘peers’’ – other landowners. In several respects these acts have less to dowith the morality of distribution or social equality, and are more related tothe feeling among certain individuals or groups that they have been slightedor have missed out on their just entitlement. Dashed expectations andsheer resentment manifest in forms of ‘‘negative’’ or ‘‘outraged’’ agency(Wardlow, 2006) – material moments of disruption and destruction thatsignal the perceived failure of others (in this case the company) to act inexpected ways.


BOARDROOM LANDOWNERS

In the past five years the Lihirian economic and social terrain has signi-ficantly changed, dramatically exacerbating the early patterns we havedescribed. The number of companies operating in Lihir has exploded as agreater number of Lihirians actively seek (sometimes demand) contractswith the mine. By 2011 there were approximately 650 Lihirian-basedcompanies registered with the PNG Investment Promotion Authority. Thelargest are grouped under the Anitua Group of Companies (formallyLakaka).8 Although the ‘‘six major clans’’ in Lihir maintain the majority ofshares in Anitua, the distribution of profits within this large umbrellastructure is a challenge. The Group currently employs in excess of 2,000workers, which is comparable with employment figures for the miningcompany, and approximately 45% of the workforce is Lihirian. The mostsuccessful branch is the NCS Catering Company, which has gainedcontracts with new projects in other parts of the country, but the majorityare dependent on the presence of the mine in Lihir for their income.9 TheAnitua Group has a board of directors largely comprised of Lihirianlandowners. Many of these board members have become extremely rich.

These few ‘‘boardroom capitalists’’ constitute the new wealthy elite andmany have integrated their wealth into the global economy throughinvestments. In many ways they exemplify Lihirian ideas about commercialengagement and embody the ideal of landowner status, whereby income isdrawn from board positions that are awarded according to landownership,while expatriates or other Papua New Guineans manage and work for thesecompanies. This model has now been widely replicated through the range ofjoint venture or ‘‘silent’’ partnerships and the range of small-to-mediumenterprises, many of which supply labor.

Much of this has been driven by the opportunities created by expansion ofthe mine processing facilities in order to produce an annual output of onemillion ounces of gold. This project, which was approved in 2008, hasrequired approximately 500 additional laborers and provided millions ofkina in contracts and grants that have directly benefited local companies(Newcrest Mining Limited, 2012, p. 59). In order to maximize commercialopportunities lease area landowners have grouped themselves under sixlarger ‘‘specific issues companies’’ that reflect geographical areas within themining lease, such as the plant site, the mining pit, the stockpile area (whereKapit village was once located), the Londolovit weir, and Kunayie airport.

Many of the smaller companies employ fewer than 50 staff and provide‘‘labor hire’’ services, drawing upon the large pool of migrant labor in Lihir.


Labor hire companies offer services not just to the mining company but alsoto other Lihirian contractors. The abundance of such ventures is in part acontinuation of the ‘‘copycat’’ phenomenon observed above. Once peopleobserve that a labor hire company is successful, they emulate it in the hopeof similar success. While this promotes competition initially, there arediminishing returns once almost every lineage or sub-clan group sets up alabor hire business. Just as in the first construction phase there were simplytoo many building companies to be viable, now there is a super-abundanceof labor hire businesses. While they might begin by buying a vehicle andhaving a logo painted on the side and having a list of staff or an ‘‘operationsmanager,’’ many do not have sufficient contracts to remain viable andcertainly few will be able to fulfil their aspirations of expanding intoequipment hire and becoming national companies. The prestige of having avehicle with a logo and being able to call oneself a company director areundoubtedly also factors in this trend, but they also indicate the ways thatcompetition over businesses is now a site of social fission and conflict.

As has happened elsewhere in PNG, the mining project in Lihir hasattracted large numbers of domestic migrants (Bainton, n.d.). There is asymbiotic relationship between increased in-migration and the growth inlandowner businesses. While migrants constitute a large proportion ofpeople employed by Lihirians and have fueled the expansion of labor hirecompanies, their presence continues to be a source of resentment andtension. The outsider status of migrants reinforces Lihirian ideas about theirstatus as landowners who should be the primary beneficiaries of economicdevelopment, and they also desire to profit from the migrants’ presence – asemployers and by renting houses and land to them. From the earliest phaseof the project Lihirians have regularly called for migrants to be evicted and‘‘sent home’’ (Bainton, 2009), all of which have foundered because Lihiriansare their landlords and bosses, and so are dependent upon them.

The labor hire company glut has also created challenges for the equitabledistribution of contracts and the development of long-term commerciallysustainable businesses. The proliferation of small enterprises offering similarservices makes it difficult to establish economies of scale. The contractingenvironment on Lihir has assumed a kind of Byzantine complexity withcompanies operating under joint venture, independent, family, clan, or sub-clan ownership. Other companies operate according to land areas that cutacross individual clan land boundaries such as the specific issues companies.Commercial affiliations are duplicated across these entities. This means thatin many instances the same people are competing for contracts but throughdifferent companies and in some instances in collaboration with different


sets of individuals or groups (as a way of maximising opportunities). Therehas been an attempt to address the oversupply of labor hire companies bygrouping smaller companies under the specific interest company structure.However, many landowners remain committed to the notion of individuallyowned and operated companies, which likely reflects their concerns overlarge distribution models, the fear of losing any prestige associated withowning a company, as well as more general patterns of social and politicaldivision that preclude some groups and individuals from working under asingle entity.

There are other factors which must be considered to understand the laborhire phenomenon. The shift from a focus on royalties and compensationmoney as the main form of economic benefits to ‘‘commercial participation’’is premised upon enduring ties to land whereby landowners expect toparticipate in any work that occurs on their land in order that their landmight still be regarded as ‘‘productive’’ (which is most often expressedthrough the local idiomatic turn of phrase, kisim kaikai bilong graon bilong miyet – to get food from my ground). This exacerbates the politics of resourcedevelopment as labour hire companies typically operate within their ownterritory (their clan land identified within the lease area) and generally havelittle competition from other companies (except in cases where members ofthe same clan, or rival clans with competing land claims, establish a companyin the same line of business). The landed interests which underpin the allo-cation or awarding of business opportunities ensure that business develop-ment remains synonymous with compensation. The distribution of economicbenefits within clan, sub-clan, and even lineage groups is rarely to thesatisfaction of all members. This has hastened the splitting of landownergroups and the subsequent ‘‘sub-division’’ of lease area blocks – as thesegroups compete for economic opportunities from the same source thisproduces an economically and socially diluting effect.

The owners of these companies are able to leverage their negotiatingposition in relation to the mining company by threatening to disturb tooperations, which is signaled through the placing of a symbolic taboo markermade of a ginger root plant (Bainton, 2012). Such tactics of disturbance aredirected toward both the company and fellow Lihirians. Quick responses bythe company to these threats in order to maintain good relations and avoidwork stoppages ultimately furnish landowners with an unusual amount ofnegotiating power that is perhaps more commonly associated with businessowners operating in the underground economy. Consequently, the broadermining lease area now resembles a patchwork quilt of imperfect econo-mic competition. The ability of certain landowners to extort business


opportunities from the mining company through chicanery or forceconfigures landowner–company relations around forms of negative recipro-city (Sahlins, 1974) and reinforces a competitive system of block holdermonopolies that further deteriorates intercommunity solidarity.

CONCLUSION: FISSION AND FRICTION

The patterns we have described help to explain why landowner businesses inPNG often fail to expand beyond immediate regions and why capital thenappears to ‘‘jump’’ between mineral enclaves and bypass or skip over mostof what lies in between (Ferguson, 2005, p. 39). Even if mining companiesfulfil their immediate responsibilities to project area landowners, especiallyin terms of assisting them to develop viable businesses to capitalize onprojects, at the same time, capital cannot easily flow between differentmining locations or throughout nearby areas because it tends to get ‘‘stuck’’in local political eddies. These localized interactions between landownersand companies are framed by a global context where much larger sums ofwealth move at a higher and restricted level across transnational gridsthrough reinvestment, mergers, and capital movement between and withincorporations, which eventually leaves most landowners and hopefulentrepreneurs with the feeling that the real development lies elsewhere.

Over the last decade, when the Lihir mine has been in production andexpanding, Lihirians have become more concerned with obtaining businesscontracts than with claiming conventional forms of compensation. Thedemands for compensation have certainly not decreased rather compensa-tion has assumed the form of business development and vice versa. Thecategorical merging of business development and compensation frustratesthe larger goals of sustainable development and reinforces dependence uponthe company.

The anomalies in the Lihirian economic system, many of which arereplicated in comparable mining enclaves, skew the economy away fromstructures capable of supporting continuous wealth generation and servicedelivery in the post mining era. In this context the roles of different actorsare continually confused. Landowners present themselves as both house-holds and companies. And while the mining company strives to engage localcompanies on ‘‘commercial terms,’’ landowner companies demand excep-tion and present themselves as displaced households entitled to compensa-tion and regularly resort to subterfuge to leverage business opportunities.Landowners treat the mining company simultaneously as a firm, as a source


of income, as a pseudo government that provides infrastructure andregulation, and as a financial institution that provides seed finance andbusiness support. The additional roles and responsibilities assumed by thecompany in this environment provide landowners with commercialopportunities, but because the company sometimes treats these contractsmore like insurance policies to ensure unfettered land access, businessdevelopment is continuously conflated with compensation. Every timeshort-term operational needs are privileged over long-term goals ofeconomic stability and sustainability, landowners become further dependentupon the company. This reliance is further evidenced as local ‘‘spin-off ’’businesses are compelled to ‘‘spin’’ back toward the mine: the variousfactors which hamper broader economic engagement in nonmine sectorsforce local companies to invest their resources (including labor power) backtoward the mine.

In many respects migrants have become the scapegoats for tensions thathave developed within the Lihirian population. For while antagonismtoward them has been consistent, relations within clans and betweendifferent groups of Lihirians have become more fragmented. The initial‘‘parcelling’’ of land within the pit, which meant specific owners receivedbenefits and exclusive contracts, has extended to different portions of landas the mine has expanded, generating antagonistic interests between peoplewho were formerly united as clan members. Moreover, as people becameincreasingly aware of the need to ‘‘make money’’ from the presence of themine, so the competition for businesses has escalated.

As different people vie for business support, so the emphasis on claneconomic solidarity has diminished. The catch-cry at the early stages was‘‘Lihirians first’’ – and aimed at ensuring that Lihirians were given preferencein employment and promotion. It is now ‘‘My land, my business.’’ The largerclan groups have split into smaller lineage, family, and even individualbusiness entrepreneurs. The fissures have in some cases set brother againstbrother. Competition is fierce and often acrimonious. As only some peopleare able to set up businesses and only some businesses succeed, the social andeconomic gaps between people widen.

In short, ‘‘business development’’ has involved processes that havedivided people and entrenched inequalities. In Lihir now there are still somepeople who have never enjoyed any substantial direct improvement inhousehold living standards or income from the mining project – they remainsubsistence gardeners. There are others who are wage earners and so havethe benefit of a steady (and by PNG standards high) income while the mineexists. Those who, by chance or design, have managed to gain profitable


businesses and contracts are well off – and a few of them have amassedfortunes that have enabled them to invest in national enterprises and realestate (some of it in Australia). But there are many whose businesses havestruggled and failed. There are tensions between ‘‘haves’’ and ‘‘have-nots’’that even now appear to be irresolvable. Corporate groups, specifically the‘‘six clans’’ of Lihir, initially provided the ideological foundation andorganisational structure for commercial engagement and notions of fairdistribution of all benefits. The clan model determined the original agree-ments with landowners within the SML area and so retains its significance forboth Lihirians and the mining company. But the imperatives of profitablebusiness development cut through those imagined unities that were formerlythe basis of Lihirian sociality.

In this chapter we have concentrated on the early period of engagementwith industrial capitalism while drawing attention to the change over timeand enduring patterns. As we have shown, the refusal of some Lihirians to beencompassed by local structures and the morality of exchange and distri-bution, or ‘‘custom’’ – the conscious attempt to manage modernity – stemsfrom the fact that Lihir society as a whole is being encompassed by the globalresource economy. At present almost every business is dependent on themining project in some respect, and so too is the expanding ceremonialeconomy. When the mine closes, there are very few that will be ‘‘sustainable’’in their current form. The inequalities that mining has introduced might betempered by the inevitable collapse or decline that will accompany mineclosure, but by then, the social changes probably will have transformedLihirian social formations and forms of sociality beyond current recognition.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to Veronica Bainton, John Owen, Deanna Kemp, Mark Mitchell,Tim Grice, and Michelle Fulcher for their comments on an earlier draftwhich has helped to bring greater clarity to the final version.

NOTES

1. Macintyre was contracted by the mining company to undertake social impactmonitoring studies from 1994 to 2005. She also conducted independent research intosocial change funded by the Australian Research Council. Bainton undertook18 months of Ph.D. research in Lihir from 2003 to 2004, followed by continuing


research in Lihir from 2007 to 2010 through a research fellowship funded by aresearch services agreement between Lihir Gold Limited and The University ofQueensland. Since 2010 Bainton has been employed by Newcrest Mining Limited tomanage the social impact monitoring program for the Lihir operation.2. These include the International Finance Corporation Performance Standards

(2012), the International Council of Mining and Metals Sustainable DevelopmentPrinciples, the Global Reporting Initiative, and the Global Compact.3. One man tried to sell one tonne of gold to a U.S. bullion company. He mocked

up a logo and letterhead and the American company took the deal seriously.Unfortunately the only fax machine to which he had access was in the company’scommunity affairs department. He inadvertently left his own letter on the faxmachine and the U.S. dealer faxed a reply to that address, so all information wasavailable to the mining company and he was thwarted.4. This is best captured in the naming of the local supermarket Ataniom, the

Lihirian word for garden, which reflects the idea that as modern landowners peoplewould ‘‘harvest’’ their needs from the store with money derived from the use of theirground.5. Conversion rates for 1 USD/1 PGK: 1995 – .8; 2000 – 2.4; 2007 – 2.9.6. We confess to taking this stance ourselves on occasion.7. According to a study conducted by the NSW Department of State and

Regional Development in 2001: ‘Despite what is commonly thought, relatively fewsmall businesses fail. Over the 2 year period 1994–95 and 1995–96, an average of 23200 small businesses or 6.1% ceased operating in Australia. Less than 10% of theseclosures were due to bankruptcy proceedings (in the case of unincorporated businesses)or companies being liquidated. The other businesses closed down for reasons such as theowner retiring, seeking a different lifestyle or dying. The failure of Australianbusinesses fell significantly during the 1990s. It is estimated in 1999–2000, there were3.6 failures per 1000 enterprises.’ (See also Bickerdyke Lattimore, & Madge, 2000).8. These include Anitua Mining Services, NCS Catering, NCS Properties, Anitua

Security, Lihir Tyre Centre, Anitua Radial Drilling (see http://www.anitua.com.pg/).9. It is important to note that while major landowner companies in PNG like

Anitua are hailed as models of success by institutions like the World Bank, theirsuccess is highly contingent upon the support base provided by the mining companyin their formative years. This support includes preferences for local contracts, and inthe case of the Lakaka company (the earlier formation of Anitua), financialassistance to avoid bankruptcy. Where other companies have proven commerciallyunviable, the long term success (and ‘sustainability’) of primary landownercompanies is frequently underpinned by the vested interests of mining companies.

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My Land My Work BUSINESS DEVELOPMENT AND LARGESCALE MINING IN PAPUA NEW GUINEA ABSTRACT

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