Director Robert H Turner wrote in 1937: “All asbestos fibre dust is a danger to lungs.
If we can produce evidence from this country that the industry is not responsible for any asbestosis claims, we may be able to avoid tiresome regulations and the introduction of dangerous occupational talk.”
Tiresome regulations, eh?
Turner & Newall was founded in 1871 in Rochedale, UK, under the name Turner Brothers to manufacture cloth packaging. By World War I, it had built an asbestos plant at Trafford Park to make Trafford Tile asbestos cement sheets. By the 1920′s it was Turner & Newall and had opened asbestos mines in South Africa. After World War II the company again diversified into automotive industry components.
From 1939 until 2001, the company operated an asbestos mine at Havelock in Bulembu in the Kingdom of Swaziland, Southern Africa. Former employees have experienced asbestos diseases because they lacked safety-wear to protect them from the hazardous material. The miners of Havelock failed in their efforts to bring a legal action in Britain against the company. The attitude of management, the absence of trade unions or an effective regulatory authority meant that work conditions at Havelock were harsh.
May Charlson was a poster girl for asbestos. As a 16-year-old she worked for Turner & Newall in Rochdale, Lancashire, weaving asbsetos fibers brought from the company’s mines in South Africa and Zimbabwe, into heat resistant cloth.
Nearly 50 years on, as anyone could predict, she was diagnosed with mesothelioma, and died in 2002 at age 64. She was arguably one of the lucky ones since her illness only lasted nine weeks. Mesothelioma is a horrible way to die.
In 1924, Turner & Newall employee Nellie Kershaw became the first official victim of asbestosis.
The firm refused to accept responsibility for her death, saying it would “create a precedent”. Neither Nellie nor her family got a penny.
The 1931 Asbestos Industry Regulations were supposed to limit asbestos exposure but the rules only applied to workers doing certain jobs, such as spinning and weaving asbestos fiber, and less than one quarter of Turner & Newall’s workforce was covered.
Asbestos factory bosses successfully fought against extending the regulations to their cleaners and drivers and, crucially, the tradesmen and women who used asbestos outside the factory gates.
That decision was to cost tens of thousands of lives. Turner & Newall knew the risks all along.
The link between asbestos and cancer was finally proved in the 50s.
Turner & Newall invited Richard Doll of the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine to study their workers – then tried to ban his report when he found their staff were 10 times more at risk of lung cancer.
A letter to Turner & Newall’s directors from their lawyers in 1964 revealed that:
“We have over the years been able to talk our way out of claims or compromise for comparatively small amounts, but we have always recognised that at some stage solicitors of experience would, with the advance in medical knowledge and the development of the law, recognise there is no real defence to these claims and take us to trial.”
But rather than admit defeat, Turner & Newall fought on.
Asbestos regulations were tightened again in 1968 but Turner & Newall safety standards remained lacking. Pictures of workers in 1970 showed them wearing no head gear or masks.
But in 1982, Turner & Newall had a £30million loss, with the costs of compensation payouts topping £6million.
Turner & Newall’s compensation payouts rose to tens of millions of pounds a year and then to hundreds of millions. In 1997 it was sold off to Federal-Mogul Corpration, a US company, which, predictably, moved to protect itself against bankruptcy and just emerged in 2007.
It’s too bad executives at Turner & Newall don’t face the same criminal charges as executives of W.R. Grace for deliberately choosing to withhold safety precautions and kill people. Somehow the ignominious end to the company isn’t enough.
Read the entire story at the Daily Mirror.
