It's December 15, 1953. John Hill walks down Fifth Avenue in New York City, carrying a black leather briefcase in hand. In the street, can drivers hawk their horns and pedestrians weave through the traffic. Hill takes a moment to compose himself. He straightens his spotted blue tie and adjusts his wireframe glasses. Then he lowers his chin and trudges over frosty concrete toward the gleaming doorways of the Plaza Hotel.
Hill is 63 years old. He's well aware that right now, he's about to walk into the most important business meeting of his life. Hill steps out of an elevator and spots a man with a cigarette in his hand. The man is named Bert Goss, and he works at Hill's public relations firm.
He'll grease him with a knot. You know, you really shouldn't smoke, Bert. You're kidding, right? You think I'm going to get sick? I'm not talking about your health. God knows you could use a little exercise. No, in a few minutes, the foremost powerful tobacco men in the country will walk out of that elevator. But only one of them makes the cigarette in your hand. The other three, they'll be soar, and she'll be not buying their product. So put it out.
Goss nods and right as he stops out his cigarette, the elevator chimes. The four men have arrived. He'll put on his biggest winning smile. Then he greets the men, claps them on the shoulders, and leaves them into a suite with a view of the entire city. He'll shut the door.
As the men take their seats, he begins. Gentlemen, I'd like to thank you for joining me for what is truly a historic occasion. I never thought I'd see the heads of Philip Morris and American tobacco sitting down with Benson and Hedges and the US tobacco company. I know you aren't allies or partners, but two weeks ago everything changed, didn't it?
He'll pick up the latest issue of the medical journal Cancer Research. This report says that cigarettes are dangerous, that they cause cancer, that they kill people. And unfortunately for you, Americans are starting to believe it.
Joseph Coleman of Benson and Hedges speaks up. I'm of half a mind to say cigarettes might be risky, but who cares? People drink themselves the death all the time, and liquor's still going strong. So let them regulate us like they regulate the booze companies.
Hill shakes his head. With all due respect, Mr. Coleman, I don't think increased government interference is what you need. What you need is a good public relations campaign. That's why we all came here today, right? You wanted to get results.
Executive from US tobacco crosses his arms. I was invited to attend this meeting, but I'm afraid I still don't know how public relations can help us win this particular fight. Hill has been waiting for this question since the second the men walked in, he straightens his suit coat, issues a sly grin.
I'm going to help you fight fire with fire. We'll get out there and say that these scientists are lying. Then we'll tell people you have your own scientists with different findings about smoking.
Coleman of Benson and Hedges leans forward. We could call it something like the Committee for Public Information. Yeah, yeah, like that. But we have to understand this. Every day in every town in America, there's a high school kid about to buy his very first pack of cigarettes. You watch the girls that think he's Marlon Brando. Kids like that, they're the future of your industry. And we can't let the fear of getting cancer one day overshadow the importance of looking like Marlon Brando today. Gentlemen, that is public relations. And that is how we're going to protect your products and most importantly, your profits. All I need you to do is say yes, and then we go to war for you.
The men in the room exchange glances. Then they turn back to Hill and nod. He'll maintain a cool, confident expression, but inside, he is glowing. This project might be the biggest of his life. It's his chance to control the message, to shape how Americans think about themselves and their health. It's also a major payday. It might only be mid-December, but in the Plaza Hotel for John Hill, Christmas has just come early.
房间里的男人们交换了一下眼神,然后他们转回来看 Hill,并点了点头。他会保持冷静自信的表情,但内心却是灿烂的。这个项目可能是他一生中最大的一个。这是他控制信息的机会,塑造美国人对自己和健康的思考方式。这也是一笔重大的收入。虽然现在才是十二月中旬,但对 John Hill 来说,在 Plaza Hotel,圣诞节提前到来了。
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In their newest season, former federal prosecutor, Ali Honeg, takes a deep dive into one of the biggest cases of his career, the brutal murder of mob captain Al Bruno in Springfield, Massachusetts in 2003. Honeg talks with FBI agents, witnesses, and the mobsters themselves to give you an inside look at how the modern mafia really works. Listen now.
Today America's relationship with cigarettes is far different than it was in the 1950s. American has been banned in restaurants and bars, in airplanes and offices and factories. There are no more billboards with cartoon camels or rugged cowboys. Sigarettes now come labeled with severe warnings about their effects on human health.
But this wasn't always the case. From much of its history, the tobacco industry operated with impunity. The average American believed smoking was harmless, if not glamorous. Then reports emerged in the 1950s, suggesting smoking was in fact dangerous and addictive. Those biggest cigarette manufacturers went on the counteroffensive and refused to admit the cigarettes posed serious health risks at all. The industry crushed many of its fiercest critics, and by the 1990s, it had grown into a $200 billion year industry while remaining largely unregulated.
Then a shift took place. Bill Clinton, the anti-tobacco governor of Arkansas, was elected president in 1992. And soon his FDA was emboldened to take a stand against cigarette makers. At the same time, employees inside tobacco companies and state politicians saw a new opportunity to make big tobacco pay. This is the story of those people who went head-to-head with big tobacco, fighting one of the most consequential wars in American history. This is episode one, Smoking Guns.
It's January 6, 1988. Merrill Williams braces against the cold as he races toward his new office in Louisville, Kentucky. He's a state for his first day of work. As he runs down the street, Williams can feel his age creeping up on him. He's 47, wearing an ill-fitting suit and worn-out dress shoes. His feet hurt, and he reminds himself that he'll buy new shoes once he gets his first paycheck. Monty has been tight ever since his second divorce.
Finally, the pain in his chest is too much. Williams stops, puts his hand on his knees, and tries to catch his breath. He winces as he looks up at the towering offices of Wyatt, Tarant, and Colmes. It's one of the most respected law firms in Louisville, and he has to make a good impression its paramount. This is his chance.
Williams rides the elevator to the 10th floor, but when he steps out he wonders if he's in the wrong place. He finds a series of grey cubicles, but all the employees inside clearly aren't working. Instead one man roars with laughter into a speaker phone. Another guy flicks a folded up triangle of paper, which goes flying between another colleague's index fingers. Williams stands there dumbstruck, and stands that he hears his name and turns.
A man with glasses is peeking his head out of a cubicle. He waves at Williams, calling him over. Williams is starting today as the firm's newest paralegal. After a warm welcome, the man explains that Williams will help the firm's biggest client Brown and Williamson. It's a global tobacco company with headquarters just blocks away.
一个戴眼镜的男人从小隔间里探出头来,对着威廉斯挥手并招手让他过去。威廉斯今天开始成为这个公司最新的法律助理。在一个热情的欢迎之后,这个男人解释说威廉斯将帮助公司最大的客户——布朗·威廉姆森(Brown and Williamson)。这是一个全球性的烟草公司,总部就在附近几个街区。
Williams nods, he knows B&W. They make a brand of cigarettes known as Cool with a K, and he smokes them religiously. The man says Williams is going to help dig through all B&W legal documents and sort them into categories. Tobacco companies get sued from time to time, and the firm wants to make sure all the paperwork is properly archived.
Williams' new colleague then lowers his voice, saying the big bosses never come down here to check on them. That makes this an ideal work environment, in fact there are only two rules the man says. The firm makes copies and never take any of the documents off-site. Other than that, Williams can work however he wants the man says, gives him a wink.
With that, the man hands Williams a box of documents and a highlighter. Williams carries the heavy box over to his new desk, removes the lid, and selects a sheet at random. It's from 1981 and a little interest, something about setting up a launch at a local country club. He puts the paper down and selects another. It's a quarterly report from last year.
This continues digging through the box well into mid-afternoon, reading and sorting. Finally, he picks up a sheet and notes the date in the upper corner. July 1963, Williams gazes into the distance he would have been 22 back then. That feels like a lifetime ago.
Williams starts to read, then stops, and thinks for a minute. Now this can't be right, he reads it again. The report says that Tobacco has unique tranquilizing effects that nicotine is addictive. It notes that Brown and Williamson is in the business of selling nicotine an addictive drug. Williams lowers the page slowly.
Nicotine can't be addictive, he thinks. Even he knows that tobacco makers have said as much. They say that smoking is just a habit. One you can quit with just a little willpower. But Williams' mouth goes dry as he considers what this might mean. If what he's just read is true, the tobacco companies have been lying to the American public.
Suddenly, for reasons he can't fully explain, Williams grabs a pen and a post-it note. He josts down a note and says July 1963, nicotine addictive. He rips the note from his pad, folds it, and slips it into his pocket. He looks around. No one seems to have noticed.
So his jaw set, Williams flunches both hands in the box once more.
他紧咬着下巴,威廉姆斯再次用双手将盒子里的东西猛击了一次。
It's January 1989 in Louisville, Kentucky. Jeffrey Wygen sits in an office on the 26th floor of the Brown and Williamson office tower. Across from him sits Alan Hurd, the company's outgoing director of research and development.
Wygen adjusts his silver rimed aviator glasses, as he tries to contain a surge of excitement. Today is his first day at Brown and Williamson, the tobacco giant. He feels eager to get started in his new role, as he takes over from Hurd as the head of R&D. He's also eager to start getting his paychecks. 300,000 years not bad. His wife, Lucretia, is happy about it too. He's a formidable woman with a taste for the finer things.
Wygen 调整了他镶银边的飞行员眼镜,试图控制激动的情绪。今天是他在烟草巨头 Brown and Williamson 公司的第一天。他迫不及待地想开始他的新角色,接替赫德成为研发部门的负责人。他也很渴望开始拿到工资。30万年不错。他的妻子卢克莲也很高兴。她是一位有眼光的女性,喜欢品质更好的东西。
But beyond the paycheck, Wygen is thinking about his young daughter, who's had serious health issues since she was born. This job will ensure that she gets world-class care. Alan Hurd picks up Wygen's resume and reviews some of the highlights. Wygen's doctorate in biochemistry, his background in healthcare consulting. Hurd says that Wygen is clearly a hard worker, and he'll make a great addition to the company.
But then Hurd clears his throat and lowers his voice. He asks why Wygen decided to join B&W. Typically, men from the medical field want nothing to do with the tobacco business. Wygen nods. This isn't the first time he's been asked this question. Just last week, his brother called to double check that he was serious about making this move, and his brother issued words of caution. Once Wygen joined Brown and Williamson, he could never return to healthcare. So the medical community, Big Tobacco, was the dark side.
Wygen looks directly at Hurd as he responds. He did give his choice a lot of thought, and he's taking the position because he respects what B&W is trying to do. He likes that the company is working to make smoking less risky by developing a safer cigarette. It would be a great service to smokers. Wygen notices that for a brief moment, Hurd stares at him blankly. Then he seems to catch himself. He smiles brightly and announces that it's time to tour the lab.
It's probably not the most cutting edge lab in the world, but he knows Wygen will make it.
这可能不是世界上最先进的实验室,但他知道Wygen会让它变得更好。
It's ten months later, mid-October 1989. Jeffrey Wygen is walking into the office of Kendrick Wells. Wells is an attorney with Brown and Williamson, and had laughed a message saying that Wygen should drop by. As Wygen heads through the office building, he wonders if this has something to do with a conference he just attended in Vancouver. He spent several days meeting with other scientists. They were employees of B&W's parent company, British American Tobacco. They had a series of exciting meetings about the future of tobacco.
Wygen still feels a glow, thinking about all the ways they're working together to create a safer cigarette. Wygen pushes open the door to Wells office. It can. Now, good time.
Well, you well. When you're this busy, there's never a good time, but, you know, anyways, come on in. I hear that.
嗯,你好啊。当你特别忙的时候,没有一个好的时间,但是,你知道,不管怎样,进来吧。我知道你说的话。
Wygen sits down and smiles at the attorney. I just want you to know whatever it is, I didn't do it.
Wygen坐下来,对律师微笑。我只想让你知道,无论是什么事情,我都没有做。
Well, tell that to the judge. Yeah.
好的,告诉法官吧。是的。
So, I got the official minutes of your R&D Summit in Vancouver, and I just need you to sign off with them. Take a quick look, give them your John Hancock and you're on your way.
Oh, I'm sure. No problem. Wygen takes the documents and begins flipping through them.
哦,我很确定。没问题。 Wygen拿起文件开始翻看。
Everything okay, Jeff?
Jeff,一切都好吗?如果需要的话,我可以说得再详细一些。
No. Looks like we're missing some pages here. Wygen hands them minutes back over. Wells gives them their cursory glance.
看起来我们这里少了几页。Wygen 把它们的草稿纸递回去。Wells 给了他们一瞥。
Oh, no. These look right. Ready to approve.
哦,不。这些看起来没问题。已准备好批准。
Ken, this is only three pages long. We spent days on this talking about ways to make smoking less risky. None of that's here.
肯,这只有三页长。我们花了好几天谈论如何让吸烟的风险降低,但这里面都没有提到。
Hmm. Nothing on nicotine analogs, nothing on biological assays, nothing on reducing the ton-
呃,没有有关尼古丁类似物的信息,没有有关生物测定的信息,也没有有关减少吨位的信息。
Ken, you can't expect me to sign this. It's redacted. It's barely even a document anymore.
Ken,你不能期望我签字这个文件。它已经删减得不成样子了,几乎已经不算是一个文件了。
Well, I do expect you to sign off on this. And so does the president of the company.
嗯,我希望你能签署这份文件。公司的总裁也是这样希望的。
Tom Sanifer? That man couldn't pass high school chemistry. Wells leans back in his chair and persists his lips. I'm going to do you a favor, Jeff, and pretend I didn't hear that. Well, do me another favor and tell me why there's dozens of pages missing. Well, it's no secret, Mr. Sanifer objects to much of what was discussing the meetings. He thinks it's counterproductive. I thought developing a safer cigarette was the priority. When did that change? You'll have to take that up with Mr. Sanifer directly. For now, we need your signature. Ken, this is insane. I'm a scientist. He goes against all my ethics. Jeff, do not throw away a six-figure salary over a dozen pages. Think of your family. Then just sign it.
Wyam swallows hard and looks away. His throat is tight. He thinks about his daughter, who has spined a bifida and about the cost of her treatments. He can't jeopardize her health coverage. So Wyam lunges forward, grabs the pen, and signs his name.
It's autumn 1989. Merrill Williams sits in his cubicle inside the offices of his law firm, where he still works as a paralegal, but he feels weighted down. It's not just the office environment with its damp odor and depressing view of appealing brick wall. It's not just his co-workers who spend their days hitting golf balls into overturned coffee mugs. He's not even the terrible secret knowledge that Williams has acquired over the past year. He keeps them off, night after night, because he knows if the public had this information, there could be massive lawsuits, maybe even prison sentences. But no, right now, Williams feels burdened by something large and bulky underneath his shirt.
He stares up at the clock. It's ticking toward noon. Just a few more minutes to wait. Then the clock strikes 12. Right on time, his supervisor cries, that's lunch, boys. Williams team members head toward the elevator. He tells them he'll try and catch up later. And then, finally, he's alone. Williams has rehearsed this moment in his head for weeks. Now it's go time. Williams gives a final look around and reaches into his filing cabinet.
He grabs several papers that he's left there in the last few months. He tucks the papers under his arm and heads for the men's room. Once there, he finds the furthest stall and locks the door. He sets the documents on the toilet's porcelain tank, then unbutton his shirt, and hangs it off the door. His draft to his stomach is the secret weapon he's been hiding all day, gray exercise girdle that he bought last week at Sears. Williams knows that what happens next must be done very carefully. Slowly, he takes the documents and slides them between the girdle and the white tank top he wears underneath. He can only pray the undershirt's thick enough to keep his sweat from soaking the pages.
Just then, the door to the men's room swings open with a groan. Williams freezes cursing. He's left his shirt hanging on the stall door. He can feel it. He's going to get caught. He's going to lose his job. He'll be something worse. But then he just hears the rustling of a trash bag. Williams excels in relief and mobs his brow. It's just the janitor. Once the man has gone, it's time for Williams to leave too. He buttons his shirt and walks under the bathroom and into the elevator. His destination is the Kinko's copy center down the street. He needs to make copies and fast before he's caught with the documents outside the building. He knows what he's doing right now could get him into a big trouble, but he doesn't feel afraid. Instead, he's burning with rage because he knows that the real crooks are over at Brown and Williamson. Their crimes are worse that his could ever be. They've been committing them for decades.
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It's November 1989. Jeffrey Wigan sits in the restaurant at the Brown Hotel, one of the finest establishments in Louisville, Kentucky. The air is filled with the smell of filet and mignon and lobster tail, and the table has grown loud with laughter and conversation.
Wigan is sitting opposite a number of his colleagues and sips from a die coke. He wishes bitterly that it was a bourbon on the rocks, but bad things tend to happen when Wigan drinks. That's why I quit cold turkey a few years back.
One of his colleagues cracks another joke, and the table roars with laughter. Wigan stares at his food. He feels utterly alone. He'd rather be home with his wife and kids, but given the number of enemies he's now made at Brown and Williamson, he would have been unwise to miss a company dinner.
他的同事又开了一个玩笑,桌子上响起了笑声。 Wigan盯着自己的食物,感到十分孤独。他宁愿和妻儿在家里,但鉴于他在Brown and Williamson公司已经结下如此多的仇敌,错过一次公司晚宴可能不是明智之举。
He takes another bite of his food, and as he chooses absent mindedly he realizes he doesn't really know why he's still working for the company. Sure, the money is good, and money is important. But no amount of money is worth this. His lab coat has become a straight jacket.
In the last couple of months, it's become abundantly clear that Brown and Williamson put profit over science and people's health. They don't want an idealistic biochemist like Wiganed. He won't pop it.
Just then a nearby conversation cuts through the noise. Wigan puts down his fork and listens. At a nearby table, one of his colleagues tells another that something called Project Hippo is progressing well. The other man says Hippo looks better than something called the aerial initiative.
Wigan stops chewing and takes a moment to consider the implications of this discussion. He pushes his chair back and rises. Then Wigan walks over to his colleague's table and the two men look up. Wigan says that he's confused.
He couldn't help but hear that they were discussing some research and development projects. When Wigan reminds them, he's the head of R&D and the name's Ariel and Hippo are not projects he's familiar with. With a pointed look, he asks for an explanation.
The two men respond with dead silence. Wigan crosses his arms and weights. Finally one of the men speaks up. He breezily informs Wigan that Ariel and Hippo are just old projects, ancient history, no big deal. And they're not really R&D related, so they're nothing to worry about.
Wigan glares and gives a curtain on and turns away. He returns to his table fuming. So this is what it's come to, he thinks. Direct lies to his face from his own peers. Wigan replays the conversation.
He suspects Ariel and Hippo are secret projects being carried out behind his back. He sits down heavily, feeling more alone than ever. There's almost no one in his life he can talk to about this. His brother would just say, I told you so and tell him to quit.
But Wigan just can't leave. He has to consider his daughter and his wife Lucretia, who would probably say he's just being paranoid. It's possible she's right. But Wigan's instincts say differently. They also say it's time to get all this out in the open. It's time to confront Tom Sandefur, the president of Brown & Williamson.
A few days later, Jeffrey Wigan sits in his office at Brown & Williamson. He's writing furiously. Ever since the company dinner, he's begun keeping a secret scientific diary. In it, he documents his work at BNW. Every project, every interaction with top management, and every obstacle he faces as he pursues a safer cigarette. He writes all of it in the journal.
Just as Wigan closes his journal, his office door swings wide open. It's Tom Sandefur, president of Brown & Williamson. He scowls at Wigan and Wigan scowls right back. He finds Sandefur to be shallow, ignorant. He's the kind of so-called leader who thinks that smart people exist only to embarrass him.
Sandefur looks over it. Wigan's journal. What you working on there? Tom, it's 12.30. I thought we were scheduled to meet at 3. Yeah, well, I decided to move the meeting up. You wanted to talk, so let's talk. Okay. Maybe you want to close the door? How about I leave it open? I've got nothing hide. What about you?
Wigan frowns. All right, I'll get right to the point, Tom. I agreed to my job as head of R&D because I thought I could make a difference. Lately, I've gotten the sense that my belief was unfounded.
What the hell are you talking about? With all due respect, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I came here to build a safer cigarette.
你到底在说什么啊?虽然要尊重你,可你完全明白我在说什么。我来这里是为了造出更安全的香烟。
Sandefur rolls his eyes. Well, for Christ's sake, I don't want to hear anything anymore about a safer cigarette. People like to smoke. They know what they're in for.
Wigan can feel his blood start to boil. Actually, they don't Tom, and you know it. Make a team manipulation, ammonia chemistry. It's all to get the customers hooked and keep them hooked to a product that could trigger increased biological activity within the lungs.
Sorry, what's that? Increased biological activity? Yeah. Increased biological activity. I don't know if it's cancer, Tom.
对不起,你说什么?生物活性增加?是的,生物活性增加了。我不知道它是否是癌症,汤姆。
Wigan watches as Sandefur laughs in disbelief and starts to pace the room. Now, you listen to me, Wigan. People were talking about safer cigarettes well before you got here. And you want to know what the problem is? If we go changing our process, we lose the taste, we lose the smoothness, and we lose customers. I just don't see how here's something you clearly can't see despite all your schooling. We also make pipe tobacco, snuff.
If we put out this safe cigarette, people are going to start saying, well, wait, they got a safer cigarette over here. Well, what about these products? Are they not safe for me? Because before you know it, we got to remake everything from scratch, and that's stupid. Do we just know this conversation is over? Sandefur stomps off calmly and quietly, Wigan opens his journal once again and notes the date and time.
He takes a deep breath and begins recording the conversation that just took place. He also starts thinking about his next steps. Sandefur may be the company president, but he's not the ultimate authority. If Wigan can steer clear of him, there may still be a way to change B&W from the inside.
It's February 11th, 1992. Merrill Williams sits in his cubicle, surrounded by large boxes stuffed with papers. Williams is in his fourth year at the law firm, and he'd gladly put in four more. Every day he immerses himself in confidential memos about Brown and Williamson, the tobacco giant. And for the first time in his life, he feels important. And so he started to take better care of himself. He's lost a little weight, gotten remarried. He even gained custody of his young daughters from his previous marriage.
He hears a dang and looks up. The elevator doors open and a man in a suit walks out. Williams knows him, he's one of the firm's partners, and right away his heart starts to race. He's been stealing and copying confidential memos for three years. He hopes and prays that he hasn't been caught, that the partners here for another reason. With the man stops and announces to the entire office that he has bad news. He thanks the team for its years of loyal service, but says that, unfortunately, all of that has come to an end, effective immediately.
There's nobody's fault, simply in action the company must take at this time. He tells them to see the HR department with any questions. Then with a flight smile, the partner turns on his heel and returns to the elevator. Some of Williams' colleagues let out size, others curse. Williams is a wash and mixed emotions. On one hand he just lost his job, but he thought he was on the verge of being exposed, maybe even put in handcuffs.
So Williams grabs a box, begins packing up his desk. Then he glances around and casually grabs a handful of documents and drops them in the box. Williams leaves, drives home, he pulls into the driveway, gets out and carries the box down toward the basement. Williams opens the door and peers down. Below him, cardboard boxes are stacked in long rows, they all contain copies of B&W documents, some dating back 40 years or more.
Some detail how the company systematically targeted young teens, all in an effort to turn them into lifelong smokers. Others are financial records. They show how politicians accepted thousands of dollars to oppose anti-tobacco legislation. And then there's the proof that nicotine is addictive. Proof that cigarettes cause cancer. Williams carries down his last box. He stands alone, staring in his trove of secrets. He still doesn't know what to do with all of it. Williams has prayed on this a lot, but God has provided no answers. He knows that he's been given a mighty sword. Williams just needs to know how to strike.
It's June of 1992. Jeffrey Wagon sits in his air-conditioned office, paging through lab reports. Then his phone rings. It's Earl Cohnhorst. The senior executive is the only friend at B&W that Wagon has left. He supports Wagon's vision for research and development, and Wagon appreciates having some support in the office. But today there's something different in Cohnhorst's voice. He asks that Wagon come to his office.
So Wagon hangs up and heads for the elevator. When he reaches Cohnhorst's office, the executive looks up from his desk, his brow furrowed. He indicates for Wagon to sit. Wagon takes a seat and asks, what's wrong? Cohnhorst doesn't hesitate. He informs Wagon that he's on thin ice with upper management. They've had enough of his complaining and his questions. If Wagon wants to keep working at B&W, he must do as he's told.
Wagon stares at Cohnhorst. Part of him holds onto the hope that this is some kind of prank. But Cohnhorst doesn't smile. Instead, he tells Wagon to consider this a final warning.
Wagon shakes his head. He knows this has to be sanded for talking. He can picture the company president telling Cohnhorst to get Wagon in line or be fired himself. Wagon's face grows hot. It's true he's been angry he tells Cohnhorst.
In fact, he's furious that he was misled about creating a better cigarette. There are things happening at the company and within the industry that just aren't right. He can't be expected to stay silent. But Cohnhorst looks unmoved. He says that if Wagon is going to be unreasonable, there's no way he can protect him. Wagon just needs to clean up his act before it's too late. And that's all Cohnhorst has to say on the matter.
He dismissed and stunned. Wagon stands and heads back to his office. He thought Cohnhorst was a close friend, and the betrayal stings painfully. But it also hardens his resolve. He knows being W's use of cigarette additives is wrong. So is the way it abandoned its project to lower the risk of cancer from smoking.
他感到失望和震惊。马车停下来,开始返回他的办公室。他原以为科恩霍斯特是一个亲密的朋友,这种背叛带给他的痛苦是刻骨铭心的。但它也坚定了他的决心。他知道 W 公司使用烟草添加剂是错误的。同样,该公司放弃降低吸烟对癌症风险的项目也是错误的。
But Wagon also knows that big tobacco is not an industry to cross. For years there have been hushed whispers about those who dared. Some had their lives run. But Wagon isn't afraid to play heartball. He's a deep well of knowledge about Brown and Williamson. If he wanted to, he could topple the company like a house of cards.
His head starts to spin as he imagines going after BMW, showing the whole world what they've been up to. But then he takes a deep breath, tries his steadiest thoughts. It's one thing to put himself in Brown and Williamson's crosshairs, but it's another to put his family in the same position. This isn't the time for open warfare. For now, all he can do is stockpile him in his own.
他的脑袋开始转得很快,因为他想象着去追踪宝马,向全世界展示他们都做了什么。但是然后他深呼吸,试图使自己保持镇定。把自己暴露在Brown and Williamson的打击范围内是一回事,但把他的家人置于同样的境地则又是另一回事。现在不是公开战争的时候。目前,他能做的就是在自己手上积聚力量。
It's March 24, 1993, and about nine months after Jeffrey Wagon was warned to keep client. Today he sits on a stool in the Brown and Williamson lab, appears through a microscope. The scope is out of date, just like everything in his lab. Wagon rubs his eyes. There are high school chemistry classrooms with more advanced equipment than this.
Wagon looks up and slowly exhales. Every time he's down here, he gets depressed. And making matters worse, the company promoted Tom Sandefurk to CEO two months ago. Now Wagon feels more isolated than ever. He's just about to reach for a scientific journal when he hears the sound of heavy footsteps.
Wagon feels something twist in the pit of a stomach. Lab doors flung open, and three security guards march in. They're followed by a man in a gray suit and tie. Wagon recalls that this is the man from human resources. He looks at Wagon with a scow on his face.
"Mr. Wagon, you'll need to come with us. Your position here at Brown and Williamson is terminated. These men are here to escort you from the premises."
Wagon 先生,您需要跟我们走。您在 Brown and Williamson 的职位已被终止。这些人将陪同您离开公司。
Wagon blanks in confusion. The head security guard steps forward.
"车厢中一片混乱,保安队长走前了。"
"Now, Mr. Wagon. What would have been all my stuff?" The man from HR checks his watch, not even looking up. "Well, leave it for now. Everything will be collected and returned to you. We can't have you walking out with any senses of material, so I'm sure you understand. Now, please, come with us."
Wagon stands. He feels the initial shock subsiding, as anger is starting to bubble up. "Look, look, just give me a minute. I need my journal."
车站停着。他感到最初的震惊正在消退,愤怒开始涌现。“看,看,给我一分钟。我需要我的日志。”
"No, you are to leave all items and come with us to HR. You need to sign confidentiality paperwork. This is a requirement."
不,你要把所有物品留下,跟我们到人力资源部门。你需要签署保密文件,这是必须的。
Wagon stares. The fighter in him wants to throw a right hook. Instead, he smiles sarcastically, picks up his coat, and throws it over his shoulder. "Well, fine. I was getting sick of this place anyway."
Wagon hopes he's come across as unbothered, but the truth is he is scared. Tom Sanford has held the guillotine over Wagon's head ever since the new year, and today he's finally let it drop. Wagon is jobless, with no prospects, and he's got looming bills to pay for the comfortable life his family now lives, and for his daughter's medical treatment.
The wave of anguish catches Wagon by surprise. He's stayed at this broken company for many reasons, but above all, he did it to provide for his child. Now she's more vulnerable than ever. Meanwhile, Tom Sanford will grow richer and more powerful by the day. This injustice sets Wagon's teeth on edge.
But as Wagon is let out by the security guards, it hits him. Now that he no longer has a job to protect, he can finally take off the gloves. The heads of Brown and Williams think they've killed him off, but all they've done is set him free.
It's late at night in March 1993. Meryl Williams staggers through the doors of the emergency room at the University of Louisville Hospital. The bright light stabs his eyes and his wife's sherry struggles to keep him upright. The nurse spots them and rushes over. Williams tries to tell her what's wrong, but he can't get the words out. He starts panicking, starts taking deep, ragged breaths. He hears that sherry is panicked too and scared. She's telling the nurse that she doesn't know what's wrong. Her husband just woke up like this saying he couldn't breathe.
现在是 1993 年三月的深夜。Meryl Williams 支撑着走进路易斯维尔大学医院急诊室的门。刺眼的强光刺痛了他的眼睛,他妻子的雪利酒让他勉力保持站立。护士看到了他们,便立刻走过来。Williams 尝试告诉她自己的问题,但他无法说出话来。他开始惊慌失措,并开始深呼吸。他听见妻子的雪利酒也感到恐慌和害怕。她告诉护士她不知道出了什么事。她的丈夫刚刚醒来就说他无法呼吸。
Suddenly Williams feels dizzy, the room starts spinning and goes black. When he opens his eyes again, Williams is lying in a hospital bed with tubes in his arms. It's late morning. His wife sits beside him. Her face looks pale. She clutches a handful of crumpled tissues, and when Williams meets her eyes, she murmurs thank God. Right away he asks what happened. Sherry tells him that he had a heart attack. The surgeon operated all night to save his life.
He's stunned and speechless. When he has the strength to talk again, he asks about his daughters. Sherry says they're at the house. Her sister is watching them. Williams leans back as the tears come. He pictures his young girls in his own faces. Came so close to never seeing them again, and he wonders if he's ever done anything to truly make them proud. Can't imagine that he has.
But now Williams can feel it in his bones. He's been blessed with a second chance. He can still be a hero in their eyes. He tells Sherry that he finally gets it. He knows what he's supposed to do with boxes in the basement. At 52, Williams finally understands the purpose of his life. The heart attack was a message from God, he says. The tobacco industry is dangerous. It's gone too far for too long. The companies must be stopped, and God wants Merrill Williams to stop them.
It's spring 1993 in Berkeley, California. The coastal marine layer has yet to burn off, and the air is cool, the sky overcast. Lowell Bergman sits at his kitchen table, holding a steaming mug of black coffee, and scanning the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle. For the 47-year-old journalist, this is only the first of several newspapers he'll read today.
Bergman believes that newspapers are to be read, covered to cover, swiftly, but with care. They offer the headlines, tips, and clues that help him do his job, because Bergman is a producer on 60 minutes, the award-winning television news show. Bergman is about to turn the page when he hears a heavy thump on his front porch. The head of the door opens it and looks down. Bergman raises a eyebrow. He looks left, then right. Across the street, one of his neighbors pushes a lawnmower back and forth.
Even though there's no sign of anyone, whoever did this did it quickly and got away fast. Bergman looks down and takes stock of a large wooden crate on his doorstep. It's stuffed with papers, and he can see the word confidential on a few pages. Bergman is an alarmed. He specializes in investigative reporting, and people often send anonymous tips and court documents directly to his house. It's his responsibility to examine these materials and figure out where they lead.
So it picks up the heavy crate with a grunt and heads back inside. Bergman returns to his kitchen table. He reaches into the crate and carefully removes the set of documents. Paging through them, Bergman immediately realizes two things. First, whenever he's holding is not public information. Second, the papers come from Philip Morris, the tobacco giant behind Marlboro cigarettes.
Bergman doesn't consider himself an expert on the tobacco industry, but he does know a few things. And is that big tobacco manufacturers a dangerous product and rakes in billions from sales. He also knows that the industry has historically been immune to litigation. Maybe these documents contain evidence that could damage an industry long thought to be invincible. Or maybe not, because Bergman can't really make heads or tails of the figures, charts, and graphs he holds in his hand. They all look technical, so he's going to need some help deciphering them.
Bergman enters his home office and closes the door. He begins flipping through his rolled decks. It contains hundreds of phone numbers, phone numbers for fellow investigators, business insiders, industry informants, and spies. But Bergman doesn't have to flip for long. Fortunately, he knows just the person to call.
Next on American Scanel, Marlwilliam launches a crusade. Jeffrey Wigan makes the most important decision of his life. A team of lawyers decides to take on big tobacco.
If you'd like to learn more about the fight against Big Tobacco, we recommend the books of the People vs Big Tobacco by Carrot Mollin Camp, Adam Levy, Joseph Men and Jeffrey Rothfetter, and Smoke Screen, the truth behind the tobacco industry cover up by Philip J. Hiltz.
如果你想了解有关与大烟草公司的斗争的更多信息,我们推荐Carrot Mollin Camp、Adam Levy、Joseph Men和Jeffrey Rothfetter所写的"People vs Big Tobacco"系列书籍以及Philip J. Hiltz所著的"Smoke Screen",揭露烟草行业的真相。
American Scandal has hosted, edited, and executed, produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship, audio editing by Molly Bach, sound design by Derek Barrett.