A growing problem in American civil litigation: when the company most responsible for harm goes bankrupt, lawyers pursue solvent firms with thinner connections to the disaster—and judges often let them.
The 2020 explosion at Watson Grinding and Manufacturing in Houston killed three workers and damaged hundreds of nearby homes and businesses. WGM filed for bankruptcy, leaving victims with few options. Now they are suing Detcon and its former parent company, 3M—suppliers who sold equipment to the plant.
Watson Grinding, not its suppliers, controlled the facility's day-to-day operations, workers, equipment, fuel, maintenance, and safety protocols. The Chemical Safety and Hazard Investigation Board found that a worn hose separated, releasing combustible propylene gas. A manual isolation valve had been left open. The gas detection system was disconnected from controls designed to trigger alarms and automatic shutoffs.
WGM knew the risks. Safety concerns about the detection system were raised in 2013, 2016, and 2019. A similar propylene explosion had occurred at the facility in 2008. The company ignored both warnings.
Detcon supplied and serviced the gas-detection equipment. But supplying equipment is not the same as controlling how a customer uses it. Plaintiffs' lawyers argue that suppliers must warn customers about hazards—but a warning does not make a supplier responsible for a customer's operational failures.
The legal question is stark: Who controlled the danger? WGM did. Yet the company's insolvency has shifted the litigation's target. Lawyers pursue Detcon and 3M not because they caused the explosion, but because they can pay.
This dynamic distorts the justice system. A company's financial capacity to pay damages does not establish causation. The need to compensate victims does not alter the facts of who ran the plant or who ignored the warnings.
WGM's bankruptcy creates a straightforward incentive: plaintiffs' lawyers will chase solvent co-defendants regardless of their actual role. Potential awards reaching billions of dollars amplify that incentive. The result is liability stretched beyond causation to reach deep pockets.
This pattern repeats across mass-tort litigation in the United States. Financial status shapes who gets sued and how much they pay—a hidden cost passed to consumers through higher prices. It also reflects a broader distortion of the justice system, where wealth influences outcomes as much as facts do.
