I have worked for three companies before this one. Each had its flaws, but each, in its own way, understood something basic about decency. When I came to CVX, my fourth, I was told, again and again, that the culture was different. Healthier. Kinder. A place where people stayed because they were valued.
I believed it. For a long time, I wanted to.
Six years in, I can say without hesitation that this is the most hostile environment I have ever survived and I started on a rig in Midland, TX.
What makes it dangerous isn’t incompetence or chaos, it’s intention. Everything here is calculated. Smiles are worn like disguises. Praise is given only when it can be reclaimed later as leverage. If your work is good, someone else will quietly attach their name to it. If your ideas land too well, they stop being yours almost immediately.
And if you are noticed, truly noticed, by the wrong person, especially your boss, the consequences are swift and surgical. Threats are not confronted; they are dismantled. Slowly. Invisibly. By the time you realize what’s happening, your reputation has already been rewritten without you in the room.
Gossip is the real currency here. Cruelty, its favorite language. Personal lives are treated as public property, mined for weaknesses. An affair. A secret. A truth shared with the wrong person. Even something small, once discovered, is inflated until it becomes unmanageable. Stories grow teeth. Context disappears. Suddenly, survival feels like something you have to apologize for.
This is not a place where mistakes are forgiven. It is a place where they are archived.
I used to think cultures were defined by mission statements and values posted on walls. Now I know better. Culture is what happens in whispers, in meetings you aren’t invited to, in credit you never receive, in silence when you need protection.
If this place has taught me anything, it’s that the most dangerous environments are the ones that insist they are safe.