While there is no universal definition of CSR, it has become recognisable shorthand for the onus on business to consider the social and environmental impacts of their activities.

CSR generally manifests as corporate commitments in the form of socio-economic development projects, community–business partnerships, social and environmental impact assessments, the adoption of discretionary codes of conduct, and can also incorporate formal agreements between states and communities.

Contemporary examples of CSR initiatives in PNG include: ExxonMobil’s half yearly environmental and social reports; Newcrest’s AUD$95.8m paid in community expenditure in 2015; and Barrick Gold’s use of the United Nations’ ‘Protect, Respect and Remedy’ framework to guide its response to human rights abuse at the Porgera gold mine.

Over the past decade, the expectations of extractive companies have increasingly widened to encompass conflict prevention and peace building.

This stems from mounting evidence of a correlation between natural resources and armed conflict, such the United Nations estimate that at least 40% of intrastate conflicts globally over the past 60 years have been linked to natural resources.

This has resulted in increased dialogue between business leaders and policymakers on business for peace, as well as avenues to align CSR strategies with the Sustainable Development Goals.

Alongside these discussions, attempts are being made to identify incentives for business to reduce violence, with the primary focus on minimising the costs of company-community conflict.

For extractive companies operating in PNG, two major costs are those caused by destruction of property and loss of productivity due to delay. Actions that interfere with production are not uncommon in PNG.

For example, in August 2014 an attack by “armed villagers” spurred by concerns about hiring practices at the Ramu nickel mine injured five Chinese workers and stopped production for three days.

While in June 2015, daily operations at the Lihir gold mine were disrupted through the placement of taboo ginger plants (gorgors) by landowners at the mine pit and other sites as a “traditional signal they want to hold discussions with the company”.

Community action can also result in the complete loss of a company’s license to operate, as demonstrated in the closure of the Panguna mine in Bougainville.

One concern for future peace and security at extractive sites in PNG is that community interference with production is an effective means to get a response from companies. This includes for example, a higher level of interest in the social impacts of extractive projects following the Bougainville crisis.

It can also influence the calculation and distribution of formal landowner compensation payments based on who has the capacity to shut down operations. The assumption is that company-community conflict can be managed, particularly through material benefits.

This assumption however, may be misguided. Natural resources have undoubtedly produced positive benefits for communities in PNG such as employment, business spin-offs, roads, hospitals and training. Yet as Filer and Macintyre argue, these benefits have largely been “off-set by a range of economic, social, political, and environmental risks and costs”.

This frustration was expressed recently in landowner anger towards operator of the PNG LNG project, ExxonMobil, for constructing a hospital while not also providing beds or staff. Poor CSR results are also evident in the long-term.

A critique of CSR at the Ok Tedi mine for example, reports on “claims made by participants that, after nearly 20 years of mine operation, they had little to show in terms of socio-economic progress and development”.

Kylie McKenna is research principal at the Institute for Sustainable Futures at the University of Technology Sydney. She is the author of ‘Corporate Social Responsibility and Natural Resource Conflict’ (2016), which identifies limitations in the range of justice claims CSR has been designed to redress