"The biggest beneficiaries that I can see broadly are plaintiffs' attorneys themselves, who are not just collecting fees on behalf of claims that have been submitted but also their own firms which are submitting large claims," Bob Dudley said on Tuesday. 
 
 His comments came on the day BP said its $20 billion oil spill compensation fund has almost run out, after provision for costs leaped by $1.4 billion in the second quarter. 
 
 The British oil company has just $300 million left in the fund, and the deadline to file an economic loss claim among Gulf coast businesses - which make up the bulk of claims - is not until April next year. 
 
 
 
 BP has said claims beyond what the fund can pay will be taken straight out of future profits. The company has also increased its overall provision for the Gulf of Mexico oil spill to $42.4 billion from $42.2 billion. 
 
 BP shares fell 4.5 percent in London on Tuesday morning, before recovering to close around 3.4 percent lower. 
 
 Dudley said BP had no problems with paying for "legitimate" claims but that the agreement with the U.S.Department of Justice that allowed people to claim for compensation was being mis-interpreted. 
 
 
 
 "This is not right, it's not good for American business... that's why we're vigorously protesting it. It happens all the time in the U.S. with this class action plaintiff system which is an industry and a business model." 
 
 (Read more: Halliburton pleads guilty to destroying Gulf spill evidence) ||||| In the fall of 1995, as a staff writer at Fortune magazine, I wrote a story about the mass litigation surrounding silicone breast implants. Plaintiffs’ lawyers had filed thousands of cases against Dow Corning, accusing it of selling a product — the silicone used in implants — that caused autoimmune diseases. Fearful that the litigation could put it out of business, Dow Corning filed for bankruptcy protection. 
 
 The scientific evidence for the plaintiffs’ claims was slim. Nonetheless, Dow Corning felt it had no choice but to agree to a huge settlement, which it did in 1998. Subsequently, the Institute of Medicine concluded that, indeed, there was no scientific link between silicone breast implants and autoimmune disease. Not that that ever really mattered. 
 
 We all have experiences that shape our view of the world, and this was one of mine. Until that story, I’d always taken the liberal view of plaintiffs’ lawyers as avenging angels, righting wrongs and helping wrest compensation for people who had been harmed by greedy corporations. 
 
 But watching Dow Corning knuckle under caused me to look at major plaintiffs’ lawsuits with a more skeptical eye. Yes, there are certainly times when the court system provides the appropriate forum to address corporate wrongdoing. But just as often — more often, in my view — plaintiffs’ lawyers gin up cases because, well, that’s what they do. Like the corporations they sue, big-time plaintiffs’ lawyers have a business model. Theirs requires them to constantly seek out cases that can be blown up into giant mass torts, as they’re called, which can then be used to extract billions from companies. 
 
 I’ve seen mass torts where the actual plaintiffs get coupons while the lawyers reap millions. Mass torts where the connection between the product and the harm is illusory. Mass torts built on fraud (silicosis). Complex litigation settled for billions even when the government implies that consumers are responsible (Toyota sudden acceleration). I’ve also seen cases where some victims hit the jackpot with a giant jury verdict and other victims come up empty. Or where a corporation really has done harm but pays off the lawyers instead of the victims. Over the years, I’ve thought: There’s got to be a better way. 
 
 I know from the reaction to several of my recent columns that many readers think I’m misguided to be defending BP against the plaintiffs’ lawyers who sued the company in Louisiana. BP, after all, despoiled the Gulf of Mexico and harmed the people who live there. It had nearly $12 billion in profits last year, and more than $375 billion in revenue. It both deserves what it is getting and can afford to pay the price. 
 
 But, to me, the question of whether BP can afford to pay is irrelevant. BP is the best example I’ve ever seen of a company that actually tried to find a better way. Immediately after the spill, it set up a claims process to get money into victims’ hands quickly, without having to file a lawsuit. Though that process had its critics, it worked. Of the $11 billion BP has paid out in claims, $6.3 billion was paid through that process. 
 
 For the powerful Gulf Coast plaintiffs’ bar, however, this nonjudicial claims process was anathema. The idea that BP could come through the oil spill without having to face a giant plaintiffs’ lawsuit was potentially ruinous to their business model. So they sued. And BP, fearing the worst in a Louisiana courtroom before a judge who had once been a Louisiana plaintiffs’ lawyer himself, settled — a settlement that included a promise not to contest legal fees up to $600 million. The message is now clear: No matter how much money you are willing to pay victims, it will never be enough to keep you out of the courtroom. The lawyers are always going to insist on their “vig.” 
 
 One of the things I find particularly offensive is that the settlement includes criteria that virtually ensure that businesses unharmed by the oil spill will get compensation. All over the Gulf, lawyers are advising clients to line up at the BP trough, and they are doing so. 
 
 But how is this righting a wrong? Why is it appropriate to transfer money from BP shareholders to people who were basically bystanders and now have their hands out? When I posed this question to the plaintiffs’ lawyers who sued BP, I received a lengthy statement from one of the lead lawyers, Steven Herman, describing a formula that, he noted several times, BP had agreed to, and even encouraged. He said that the Oil Pollution Act of 1990 was aimed at helping people who have been harmed “indirectly.” What he didn’t say is that the more claimants getting BP’s money, the more money winds up with the lawyers themselves. Then again, he didn’t need to say that. It’s obvious. 
 
 After all, there’s a business model at stake. ||||| In the fall of 1995, as a staff writer at Fortune magazine, I wrote a story about the mass litigation surrounding silicone breast implants. Plaintiffs’ lawyers had filed thousands of cases against Dow Corning, accusing it of selling a product — the silicone used in implants — that caused autoimmune diseases. Fearful that the litigation could put it out of business, Dow Corning filed for bankruptcy protection. 
 
 The scientific evidence for the plaintiffs’ claims was slim. Nonetheless, Dow Corning felt it had no choice but to agree to a huge settlement, which it did in 1998. Subsequently, the Institute of Medicine concluded that, indeed, there was no scientific link between silicone breast implants and autoimmune disease. Not that that ever really mattered. 
 
 We all have experiences that shape our view of the world, and this was one of mine. Until that story, I’d always taken the liberal view of plaintiffs’ lawyers as avenging angels, righting wrongs and helping wrest compensation for people who had been harmed by greedy corporations. 
 
 But watching Dow Corning knuckle under caused me to look at major plaintiffs’ lawsuits with a more skeptical eye. Yes, there are certainly times when the court system provides the appropriate forum to address corporate wrongdoing. But just as often — more often, in my view — plaintiffs’ lawyers gin up cases because, well, that’s what they do. Like the corporations they sue, big-time plaintiffs’ lawyers have a business model. Theirs requires them to constantly seek out cases that can be blown up into giant mass torts, as they’re called, which can then be used to extract billions from companies. 
 
 I’ve seen mass torts where the actual plaintiffs get coupons while the lawyers reap millions. Mass torts where the connection between the product and the harm is illusory. Mass torts built on fraud (silicosis). Complex litigation settled for billions even when the government implies that consumers are responsible (Toyota sudden acceleration). I’ve also seen cases where some victims hit the jackpot with a giant jury verdict and other victims come up empty. Or where a corporation really has done harm but pays off the lawyers instead of the victims. Over the years, I’ve thought: There’s got to be a better way. 
 
 I know from the reaction to several of my recent columns that many readers think I’m misguided to be defending BP against the plaintiffs’ lawyers who sued the company in Louisiana. BP, after all, despoiled the Gulf of Mexico and harmed the people who live there. It had nearly $12 billion in profits last year, and more than $375 billion in revenue. It both deserves what it is getting and can afford to pay the price. 
 
 But, to me, the question of whether BP can afford to pay is irrelevant. BP is the best example I’ve ever seen of a company that actually tried to find a better way. Immediately after the spill, it set up a claims process to get money into victims’ hands quickly, without having to file a lawsuit. Though that process had its critics, it worked. Of the $11 billion BP has paid out in claims, $6.3 billion was paid through that process. 
 
 For the powerful Gulf Coast plaintiffs’ bar, however, this nonjudicial claims process was anathema. The idea that BP could come through the oil spill without having to face a giant plaintiffs’ lawsuit was potentially ruinous to their business model. So they sued. And BP, fearing the worst in a Louisiana courtroom before a judge who had once been a Louisiana plaintiffs’ lawyer himself, settled — a settlement that included a promise not to contest legal fees up to $600 million. The message is now clear: No matter how much money you are willing to pay victims, it will never be enough to keep you out of the courtroom. The lawyers are always going to insist on their “vig.” 
 
 One of the things I find particularly offensive is that the settlement includes criteria that virtually ensure that businesses unharmed by the oil spill will get compensation. All over the Gulf, lawyers are advising clients to line up at the BP trough, and they are doing so. 
 
 But how is this righting a wrong? Why is it appropriate to transfer money from BP shareholders to people who were basically bystanders and now have their hands out? When I posed this question to the plaintiffs’ lawyers who sued BP, I received a lengthy statement from one of the lead lawyers, Steven Herman, describing a formula that, he noted several times, BP had agreed to, and even encouraged. He said that the Oil Pollution Act of 1990 was aimed at helping people who have been harmed “indirectly.” What he didn’t say is that the more claimants getting BP’s money, the more money winds up with the lawyers themselves. Then again, he didn’t need to say that. It’s obvious. 
 
 After all, there’s a business model at stake.
– BP can afford to pay the settlement for a lawsuit filed against it for the Gulf oil spill—but it shouldn't have to, says Joe Nocera in the New York Times. "BP is the best example I’ve ever seen of a company that actually tried to find a better way," he writes. "Immediately after the spill, it set up a claims process to get money into victims’ hands quickly, without having to file a lawsuit." BP has already paid out $11 billion in claims. So why was it sued anyway? Because lawyers wanted to send a message, writes Nocera: "No matter how much money you are willing to pay victims, it will never be enough to keep you out of the courtroom." After all, the lawyers have their own business model to protect. Now, he says, the people that stand to benefit are businesses that weren't actually harmed by the spill, and the lawyers themselves, who get more for every business with its hand out. "All over the Gulf, lawyers are advising clients to line up at the BP trough, and they are doing so," he writes. "But how is this righting a wrong?" Meanwhile, BP's CEO has been arguing much the same thing today, telling CNBC that its $20 billion compensation fund has been drained dry by attorneys, with just $300 million remaining. Click for Nocera's full column.