Are we entering a ‘dark age’ for shareholder participation in fossil fuel AGMs?

Exclusion lists driven by facial recognition technology, opaque security contractors, invasive physical searches, out-of-the-way locations, and guards who follow shareholders to the toilet—this is the new reality of attending the annual general meetings (AGMs) of major London-listed fossil fuel companies in the mid-2020s.

Over the past decade, I’ve attended more than fifty AGMs across five countries. BP’s 2025 AGM on the outskirts of London a few weeks ago was the most hostile to shareholder participation I’ve ever experienced. Below are accounts of events that transpired at recent AGMs which, amongst other concerns, raise serious questions about the use and accuracy of information gleaned from surveillance to “blacklist” shareholders.

At a time when the consequences of fossil fuel extraction and burning are intensifying worldwide, company boards are retreating behind intimidation, exclusion and constraints on genuine participation—an unmistakable sign that their social license is decaying.

If this is a glimpse of what’s to come, then the London corporate governance community has reason to be concerned. We will continue to attend AGMs and exercise our rights. But we urge the broader London corporate governance community to take note—and to push back—before these rights are hollowed out entirely.

Shell AGM, 2024: surveillance and a contraband leaflet

Surveillance at AGMs is increasing. At last year’s Shell AGM, I was assigned a personal security guard. She sat beside me for the duration of the meeting, within earshot of every exchange between me and my colleague. Twice, she followed me to the toilet and waited outside my cubicle. I should note that I am well known to the company—not as a disruptor, but as a shareholder who had engaged constructively, including filing and withdrawing a shareholder resolution following successful negotiation.

A colleague fared worse. On their way into the meeting, they were handed a single-page leaflet by a protester. Carrying it visibly in their hand, my colleague was stopped by multiple guards, accused of bringing in “contraband material,” and refused entry. It was only after I located one of Shell’s investor relations team that they were eventually allowed in.

BP AGM, 2025: searches, data, and a holding pen

On 17 April 2025, I travelled to Sunbury-on-Thames for BP’s AGM. Later that day, headlines would note that 24% of shareholders had voted against the reappointment of Chair Helge Lund, despite his prior announcement of intent to step down. This context is both relevant and irrelevant: it explains the defensiveness, but not the disproportionate tactics.

Upon entry, I passed through a standard bag check and body wand. Then I was pulled aside. A supervisor—someone I recognised from last years’ Shell AGM—ushered me into a private room for a “random” personal search. I was asked to sign a consent form. Refusal would mean refusal of entry.

A woman physically checked my body, including my bra, while a man recorded the search. Every item in my suitcase (which I had planned to check into the cloakroom) was examined. My Sharpie markers—used earlier that week for a planning workshop—were confiscated as contraband.

Meanwhile, I received a message: my colleagues had been refused entry.

Despite being verified shareholders with appropriate documentation, they were placed in a makeshift holding pen outside the venue—a temporary fenced area on the lawn—and told to identify themselves to bemused Surrey Police officers. The rationale? They had “disrupted” BP’s 2024 AGM. Except neither of them had attended it.

Facial recognition and the problem of ‘blacklists’

Security personnel later clarified: facial recognition technology had matched my colleagues to footage from the 2024 Shell AGM, where they had merely asked questions from the floor—standard shareholder practice and fully compliant with AGM protocols. (As mentioned above, one of my colleagues had been temporarily refused entry for holding a leaflet, but they undertook no “disruption” of any kind).

Inside, I tried to intervene. I was passed between multiple security representatives, none of whom were apparently BP employees. Eventually, a junior company staff member told me, “I have no power.”

Only after invoking the Companies Act and referencing specific BP contacts did things begin to move. After about an hour, my colleagues were reluctantly admitted.

Observations and questions

Our informed (though not confirmed) observations are as follows:

• Shell and BP appear to use the same corporate security provider for their AGMs.

• This provider uses facial recognition and other surveillance technologies, and in this case, it appears surveillance from the 2024 Shell AGM was used at the 2025 BP AGM.

When we asked the security provider who they were, we were told, “We are here as BP—that’s all I can say contractually.” The staff were marked by a consistent look though not exactly a uniform: star lapel pins, polished appearance, and what I can only describe as hostile politeness.

This raises serious questions:

• Who holds the biometric and behavioural data collected at AGMs?

• For how long is this data retained, and under what legal basis is it shared between clients?

• If the data is inaccurate, how does one correct the record?

• Is this data sold or shared with third parties, including foreign governments or border agencies?

We have put a set of questions in writing to each of Shell and BP.

Denied access, again

Despite eventually being allowed into the venue, we were denied entry to the main auditorium. It was “at capacity,” we were told—though the overflow area, with communication to the board via videolink and echoey audio, left us excluded from meaningful participation.

We were given assurances that our rights would be equivalent to those in the room. They weren’t.

We were made to “bundle” questions—each of us asking multiple, unrelated questions in a single go, without any opportunity to follow up. Those physically in the room were permitted a conversational format. ACCR’s were the only questions subjected to bundling.

When I addressed climate-aware director Dame Amanda Blanc, I expressed support for her renomination and asked how the board would factor climate risk into the chair succession process. In response, she read a bland, pre-prepared statement that never once mentioned climate change. It was unusually evasive and unsettlingly off-tone.

A governance crisis in the making

The physical impacts of climate change threaten systemic, irreversible value destruction for long-term investors. The next chair of BP must take this seriously. And yet, the mechanisms for shareholder input which can bring light to these issues—especially at AGMs—are being actively undermined.

BP’s decision to announce a one-hour cap for questions was unprecedented in my experience. Spontaneous questions were disallowed. Of the limited questions that made it through, just four touched on climate strategy and governance (three of those were asked by ACCR). More were dedicated to pension complaints.

There were no protests, no disruptions. We understand that a few people were forcibly removed from the screening area. But the floor of the AGM was eerily devoid of intellectual contest. No grandparents asking how the company’s strategy reconciles with their grandkids’ futures. No members of communities affected by BP’s operations in the Global South. And certainly, no disruptors.

In the end there was Matt Crossman, of Rathbones, who read a laudable statement on behalf of a group of climate-concerned investors, and there was ACCR.

A window to the board’s collective consciousness

A company chair has a lot of discretion as to how an AGM is run, and rightly so. But observers of AGMs can learn a lot about a company from the chair’s choices.

The AGM is the singular moment in the corporate calendar when a company’s board is required to engage publicly with its entire shareholder base. Mature, confident boards welcome scrutiny and handle it with grace. Defensive boards, by contrast, shut down debate, overreach on security, and erode trust.

Your personal data may be held and disclosed

Shell’s 2025 AGM will be held on 20 May 2025 at Terminal 5, Heathrow Airport. Heathrow is a protest exclusion zone. Another choice: this time not just the prevention but the criminalisation of non-violent protest at their AGM.

Shell’s 2025 Notice of Meeting provides the following notice to prospective attendees:

“We process personal data of those attending the AGM. This includes recording of the webcasts and interaction with the attendees. We have arranged for photographs to be taken throughout the premises. These will be held for no longer than 10 years after the AGM. As noted above, surveillance and body cameras will be used for safety and security purposes during the AGM. Your personal data may be disclosed to law enforcement, government authorities, courts and/or other relevant third parties for the purposes of civil or criminal proceedings.”

We have a shareholder resolution on foot, so have sought assurance from Shell that ACCR staff will be greenlisted for entry to the upcoming AGM. I encourage any shareholder or corporate representative who intends to attend the AGM to seek the same assurance.

For ACCR staff, AGMs are routine, professional engagements. But increasingly, they are becoming spaces of surveillance, intimidation, and exclusion.

We are prepared for this. Other shareholders—especially retail investors—may not be. They should not have to be.

The direction of travel is clear. And it should concern anyone who places value in the principles of shareholder democracy and the foundational rights enshrined in corporate law.

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