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Why Are Pesticide Companies Fighting State Laws to Address PFAS?

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Wednesday, December 18, 2024

What Our Investigation Revealed Several states are trying to phase out the use of pesticides containing per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS), long-lasting chemicals linked to serious health risks including cancer, liver damage, and reproductive effects that have already contaminated farm fields, drinking water, and human bodies. CropLife America and Responsible Industry for a Sound Environment (RISE), the pesticide industry’s trade organizations, have been working to stop and slow those efforts. CropLife America and RISE hire local lobbyists, some of whom also head up farmer organizations and represent local farmers in comments, hearings, and meetings with legislators. RISE also deploys a “grassroots network” of individuals who work in and with pesticide companies—e.g., retailers, golf courses, and landscapers—to contact their state lawmakers using tested “key” messages and encourages them to emphasize their personal experiences as citizens. Beyond PFAS, when state lawmakers introduce bills to restrict pesticide use in other ways, CropLife America and RISE often utilize a similar playbook to influence legislation. About five years ago, regulators in Maine started to find alarming levels of per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances—commonly called PFAS or forever chemicals—in farm fields. They soon discovered the main source: sewage sludgespread as fertilizer. Some farmers could no longer produce safe food due to PFAS’ links to cancer and other health risks. Some had to shift what and where they planted, while others shut down their operations for good. Tests found water in hundreds of rural wells unsafe to drink, and families faced an uncertain future with fear. Chemical Capture: The Power and Impact of the Pesticide IndustryRead all the stories in our series: Overview: Chemical Capture: The Power and Impact of the Pesticide Industry How the agrichemical industry is shaping public information about the toxicity of pesticides, how they’re being used, and the policies that impact the health of all Americans. Inside Bayer’s State-by-State Efforts to Stop Pesticide Lawsuits As the agrichemical giant lays groundwork to fend off Roundup litigation, its use of a playbook for building influence in farm state legislatures has the potential to benefit pesticide companies nationwide. Are Companies Using Carbon Markets to Sell More Pesticides? Many programs meant to help farmers address climate change are now owned by companies that sell chemicals, which could boost practices that depend on pesticides rather than those that reduce their use. Why Farmers Use Harmful Insecticides They May Not Need Neonicotinoids coat nearly all the corn and soybean seeds available for planting. Agrichemical companies have designed it that way. Why Are Pesticide Companies Fighting State Efforts to Address PFAS? In Maine, Maryland, and beyond, the industry is using a ‘grassroots’ network of farmers, lobbyists, and other tactics to slow legislators’ attempts to get forever chemicals out of food and water. Adam Nordell is one of the farmers who lost it all. After he was forced to hang up his hoe and relocate his family, he went to work for a local nonprofit called Defend Our Health, where he now uses what he calls his “unwanted knowledge base” to do outreach and education in farm communities and connect affected farmers with resources. Nordell is still living with the consequences of PFAS contamination, and he prefers not to linger on the topic of the trauma it caused his family. But if there’s one positive thing he remembers about 2020, when all of this was coming to light, it’s that the state’s often fractured farming community came together. “I was an organic vegetable farmer, and conventional dairy farmers were reaching out expressing concern,” he said. “The prospect of chemical contamination is something that nobody wants on their farm and that everyone recognizes as posing a potential threat.” Sensing a public health and food security crisis of epic proportions, Maine’s legislators got to work. In short order, they wrote and passed trailblazing state laws to tackle the thorny problem from multiple directions. They created a $60 million fund to support affected farmers, for example, and started a phaseout of consumer products that contain “intentionally added” PFAS. Most importantly for farmers at the time, they banned the spreading of sludge, a move Nordell said drew enthusiastic support from many, but not all, farmers. At the same time, in 2020, watchdog groups first discovered PFAS in certain pesticides, which directed national attention to whether farm chemicals might be another source of contamination. How significant of a PFAS source pesticides might be remains unresolved, especially because different highly accredited labs have produced conflicting tests. One initial study found high levels of PFAS in common pesticides, but when the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) did its own testing on the same products, it reported none. Environmental groups are currently contesting the agency’s report. “The prospect of chemical contamination is something that nobody wants on their farm and that everyone recognizes as posing a potential threat.” Regardless of those results, a few things have become clear: Based on the most commonly used global definition of PFAS, more than 60 pesticides registered by the EPA contain an active ingredient defined as PFAS. Other pesticides may contain PFAS as undisclosed additives or from chemicals leaching from the plastic containers in which they’re stored. When Maine lawmakers turned their attention to tackling pesticides as a source of PFAS, they encountered new opposition. Between 2021 and 2024, CropLife America and Responsible Industry for a Sound Environment (RISE), the pesticide industry’s trade organizations, paid lobbyists in the state more than $100,000 to work on multiple bills, including PFAS regulations. At the same time, RISE alerted Maine-based members of what it calls its “grassroots network.” To create that network, RISE recruits individuals who make, sell, or are heavily invested in the use of pesticides (like golf course superintendents and landscapers) around the country, provides trainings and messaging, and then sends advocacy alerts when laws are introduced in a given state. So, while Maine passed the country’s first laws requiring companies to disclose whether pesticides they sell contain PFAS and to eventually phase out those that do, the fight continues. After the trade groups pushed for delays in the implementation of the law, legislators in 2023 delayed the phaseout of PFAS in pesticides by two years. Then, in 2024, based on Maine lobbying records, CropLife and RISE advocated for a bill to exempt agriculture entirely from the requirements. Although it initially failed, lawmakers expect it will be introduced again next year. In 2023 testimony submitted to Maine legislators supporting rollbacks to the regulations on PFAS in pesticides, Karen Reardon, vice president of public affairs for RISE, argued that the state’s PFAS definition is overly broad and lacks a scientific basis. She also said companies were worried that submitting affidavits on PFAS in their products could expose their trade secrets, and state regulators needed more time to develop a system that would adequately protect “confidential business information.” Some farm groups, including the Maine Potato Board and Maine Farm Bureau, also oppose the rules for PFAS in pesticides and have called for the agricultural exemption, citing the fact that losing access to certain pesticides could hurt the state’s farmers. In arguing for an exemption for agriculture last March, Donald Flannery, then the executive director of the Maine Potato Board, cited the economic value Maine’s farmers bring to the state. He noted that pesticides used in Maine “are all approved and licensed by EPA,” and said that while he acknowledged the need to clean up PFAS pollution, business and industry should be allowed to move forward in the meantime. If pesticides are not exempt from PFAS regulations, he said, “there is risk of losing products, which will have a negative impact on our ability to grow and protect our crops.” Supporters of the PFAS regulations dispute that idea because the law contains a safeguard allowing farmers to use pesticides that contain PFAS if there is a “currently unavoidable use.” (For example, if a farmer shows there is no alternative product that can address a pest issue they face.) A Well-Worn Playbook The battle over regulating PFAS in pesticides in Maine looks a lot like another heating up in Maryland. In fact, it illustrates a scenario repeated in states nationwide each year, where the pesticide industry activates a well-worn playbook in an effort to stop restrictions on pesticide use that are intended to address a broad range of impacts.And it involves some of the same tactics Civil Eats reported on in this series, in our story on Bayer’s lobbying efforts to pass laws limiting their liability for alleged harms caused by glyphosate.  First, CropLife, RISE, and the companies they represent fund state-level lobbying. At the same time, they activate individuals within companies that sell and use pesticides to advocate for what the companies want. Lastly, they align with farmer organizations that likely have more clout in the eyes of lawmakers and the public. Rick Zimmerman, a New York lobbyist who has represented both pesticide companies and farm groups to oppose state pesticide restrictions, said that alignment was not about using farmer capital. Instead, he said, it happens because farmer groups and the pesticide industry are generally opposed to state governments getting involved in the regulation of farm chemicals. “The various organizations and companies that I represented are on common ground,” he said. “It’s just a natural opportunity for organizations and companies with similar interests to be able to collaborate and work together.” However, whether the issue is neonicotinoid use in New York or small towns in Colorado passing their own pesticide laws, the strategy has real impacts. In the case of PFAS, Nordell and others said that it could mean consequences for farmers, farmworkers, and broader communities. “Are there large out-of-state corporations that have a financial incentive engendering opposition to [Maine’s pesticide] laws? Yes, certainly. They show up in committee every session, and I think there’s a lot of misinformation about what will happen as we regulate PFAS out of the economy.” Maine’s initial assessment found close to 1,500 pesticide products that are made with an active ingredient that meets the state’s definition of PFAS. Nordell said that while the contamination from sludge was relatively easy to test and trace, pesticides may not be as visible as a source of PFAS. “We should really think about farmworkers who are spraying the pesticides. We should think about the neighbors of the farmers who depend on clean water like we all do. All of us are dependent on a clean food system. When, for the sake of commerce, we turn a blind eye to environmental toxins, we all suffer in any scenario—but certainly when we’re talking about the safety of the food supply,” Nordell said. “Are there large out-of-state corporations that have a financial incentive engendering opposition to [Maine’s] laws? Yes, certainly. They show up in committee every session, and I think there’s a lot of misinformation about what will happen as we regulate PFAS out of the economy.” Representatives from CropLife America and RISE did not respond to Civil Eats’ repeated requests for interviews, or to detailed questions sent asking for their comments on points covered in this article. CropLife and RISE Lead the Way While Maine grappled with PFAS within its borders, other sources of PFAS, like fire-fighting foam and takeoutcontainers, entered the national conversation. PFAS pollution was increasingly measured in drinking water and human bodies, and information  on the health risks linked to exposure to common PFAS like PFOA and PFOS, even at very low levels, began to accumulate. A few states to the south, Maryland has also been trying to stay ahead of the game, and the Maryland Pesticide Education Network (MPEN) is central to that effort. MPEN has been one of the most active pesticide watchdog groups in the country for three decades, and over the last few years, they turned their attention to PFAS. PFAS expert Linda Birnbaum is a toxicologist who spent 20 years at the EPA and directed the National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences. As she put it during MPEN’s annual conference in November, “You give me a physiological system, and it’s likely there will be evidence that PFAS disrupt it,” she said, pointing to associated harms including kidney cancer, liver toxicity, high cholesterol, and birth defects. Even so, Ruth Berlin, MPEN’s executive director, was not surprised when CropLife and RISE showed up earlier this year, after Delegate Sheila Ruth introduced a state law to ban selling pesticides that contain PFAS as an active ingredient starting in June 2025. Berlin said that RISE representatives came with many of the same talking points they’d used to fight previous pesticide restrictions. For example, if lawmakers take away the use of any pesticide, “they’re going to destroy farming. They’re going to destroy public health. And it’s safe because EPA vets these pesticides.”  CropLife America is a well-known trade association that advances the interests of farm chemical giants. RISE presents itself as a separate organization that represents the “specialty” pesticide industry and tends to work on the off-farm side of things. They operate under the same 501(c)(6) and share a D.C. address. They hold joint conferencesand share lobbyists . But RISE flies more under the radar than CropLife America, even though it played a pivotal role in a coalition that helped pass laws now on the books in more than 40 states that prevent local governments from further restricting pesticide use. Those laws make it illegal, for example, for a given city council to ban pesticide spraying at schools. Astroturfing 101: Creating a ‘Grassroots’ Network Developing and operating its “grassroots network” is key to how RISE responds to state laws. As RISE’s director of state affairs, Jon Gaeta, explained in a webinar at the start of 2022, “When there’s a regulatory issue at the state level, RISE is ready to spring into action.” “This committee is very interesting because we do have what I like to call ‘activist legislators’ . . . that truly do believe in the environmental cause, and, unfortunately, they have run a significant amount of pesticide legislation that can be detrimental to our industry.” During the presentation, Gaeta showed participants where that was currently happening. He flagged Maine as a “battleground situation,” particularly with pesticide regulation bills coming out of the state’s committee on agriculture, conservation, and forestry. “This committee is very interesting because we do have what I like to call ‘activist legislators,’” he said. “These are legislators that truly do believe in the environmental cause, and, unfortunately, they have run a significant amount of pesticide legislation that can be detrimental to our industry.” However, Gaeta noted that RISE had been able to leverage the fact that the committee provides easy opportunities for testimony. “We had a lot of great people show up last year and tell their stories about how they use certain pesticides and what they do for a living and that really does make a difference,” he said. Gaeta pointed to Colorado as another focal point. RISE was anticipating that lawmakers there would try to pass a bill that would again allow local communities to restrict pesticide use where they saw fit. “This is going to be an uphill battle,” he said. “We really do need folks to flex their grassroots muscle in Colorado.” Kate Burgess, conservation manager for the National Council of Environmental Legislators, tracks state pesticidelaws around the country. She pointed to Colorado as “an example that saw intense lobbying from the pesticide industry.” The Colorado bill failed to gain traction, and RISE touted its role in its 2024 annual report: “With mounting political pressure for local control, 36 pesticide applicators showed up to testify in person against the bill. Leveraging these voices, our in-state lobbyist managed the vote count throughout the session, ultimately preventing a full floor vote in both legislative chambers.” Two screenshots from the RISE 2024 Annual Report. At left, a “legislative heat map” showing the states where the most bills were introduced that could affect the pesticide industry. Right: A list of “successes in the states” that notes how the group’s targeted lobbying efforts tracked 684 bills nationwide, and through lobbying pressure in Colorado was able to prevent a vote on the state’s pesticide preemption law. Ensuring those applicators showed up with effective talking points is a key function of RISE’s grassroots network. During another 2022 RISE webinar on messaging, McGavock Edwards, a senior vice president at PR firm Eckel & Vaughn, presented key messages that would later be provided to members in a toolkit. The messages had been developed using RISE public survey results and tested for resonance. They are also prominent on RISE’s public-facing website. They include that pesticides improve quality of life by enabling green spaces like athletic fields and by eliminating invasive species, and that they benefit public health by controlling disease-carrying insects like mosquitos and ticks. At left, a screenshot from a RISE webinar spotlighting the key messages the group asks their network of advocates to use when communicating with policymakers. At right: A screenshot of a RISE webinar with Jon Gaeta showing how members of the group’s advocacy network can get involved. The National Association of Landscape Professionals, a RISE member, deployed several of those messages in its comments submitted in opposition to the Colorado law. It also included that, “Experts at the Environmental Protection Agency rigorously evaluate each pesticide’s active ingredients for human and environmental safety and efficacy before deciding to register the product for sale and use.” That language is similar to points on a list of five key regulatory messages provided in the 2022 RISE messaging webinar by Karen Reardon, vice president of public affairs at the organization. They were selected as being especially resonant based on the results of the RISE survey. “These are the ones that work,” she said, mentioning, specifically, that they’d also tested the word “rigorous.” In Maryland, the same language was applied to argue against phasing out pesticides that contain PFAS. “EPA subjects all new pesticide products to rigorous human health and environmental review and testing requirements to satisfy these standards for registration,” Reardon wrote in RISE’s testimony. Some of RISE’s grassroots training webinars are created and presented in conjunction with CropLife America, but CropLife also does its own trainings of industry professionals who advocate for pesticides in state legislatures. In a 2021 grassroots advocacy webinar hosted by RISE and CropLife America, Leslie Garcia, manager of sustainability and stewardship at Valent USA, a California-based pesticide maker owned by Japanese chemical giant Sumimoto Chemical Company, talked about bringing the CropLife AgVocate training program to employees at Valent. In particular, she said, Valent focused on training employees in departments such as IT and finance, who might not have expertise in agriculture or chemistry and “who aren’t aways aware of the legislative threats to our industry or how to be a voice for the industry within their own personal networks,” Garcia said. After a series of trainings at Valent, she reported in the webinar, 80 percent of employees signed up for the CropLife America “Call-to-Action Network.” CropLife also works closely with the Clyde Group, a D.C.-based branding and communications agency, to train advocates and affect state laws. According to Clyde’s website, its team has done more than 100 CropLife trainings “to prepare advocates to confidently speak to their elected officials, give testimonies, and engage media.” They have also “engaged advocates to speak” on CropLife’s behalf in 15 states. In October 2022, the California Association for Pest Control Advisors dedicated more than a day of its annual conference to advocacy training. There, Anthony LaFauce from the Clyde Group told the pest control advisors that they should never show up to advocate in a business suit. Instead, he said, they should dress the part of a farmer. Farmer or Pesticide Lobbyist? Back in Maine, Representative Bill Pluecker, an Independent, is one of the “activist legislators” Gaeta referred to in the RISE webinar. Pluecker is an active farmer who has served in the House of Representatives since 2018 and also works for the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association. For several years, he’s been one of the lawmakers leading the charge to get pesticides that contain PFAS out of Maine. “PFAS is something that Mainers across the political spectrum are paying attention to,” he told Civil Eats. This is because, in Maine as elsewhere, contamination extends beyond farms: “We have large chunks of area where not only can you not eat the fish, but you also can’t eat the turkey, and you can’t eat the deer.” While not everyone agrees on exactly what bans on PFAS in pesticides should look like, Pluecker said farmers have rarely shown up to oppose the regulations. Instead, he said it always seemed to be representatives of CropLife and RISE. But Pluecker added that heading into the 2025 legislative session, it seems like the industry is working harder to leverage farmer voices on the issue, because of the political sway they hold. When the session starts, he expects exempting agriculture from the rules on PFAS in pesticides may be back on the table. At the end of 2023, Julie Ann Smith, former executive director of the Maine Farm Bureau, posted on her LinkedIn that she had started as a lobbyist for a new advocacy organization called the Maine Farmers Coalition. The first publicly available record of the organization’s website is from January 2024, where it says the organization “represents the backbone of the state’s agricultural sector” and lists two members, a large potato company that spans farms and processing and the state’s biggest wild blueberry company. In March, Smith testified at a hearing on behalf of Maine Farmers Coalition in support of exempting pesticides from PFAS regulations. Smith said the farmers she represents understand concerns surrounding PFAS and their potential health effects but that the EPA has already implemented a roadmap to address PFAS pollution. Exempting pesticides “would ensure that farmers are still able to grow and protect their crops and strike a balance between protecting the environment and ensuring food security for all,” she said. In April, the Maine Farmers Coalition hosted an online meeting for farmers. PFAS was on a list of discussion topics related to “critical legislation that will impact your farm.” In August, according to an email provided to Civil Eats, Smith reached out to Maine Senators Henry Ingwersen and Tracy Brenner and Representatives Lori Gramlich and Bill Pluecker, from her Maine Farmers Coalition email, to try to organize a dinner with industry representatives from Syngenta, a global pesticide giant that is a subsidiary of ChemChina. Smith said she would review questions from Civil Eats but did not respond to an email that provided detailed questions by press time. Syngenta did not report lobbying in Maine last year, but it has been active in efforts to slow the implementation of PFAS restrictions in the past. In 2023, CropLife and RISE were pushing the Maine Board of Pesticides to delay reporting requirements for PFAS in pesticides. When the Board failed to extend the deadline, Syngenta declared in a letter to its distributors and retailers that it would not re-register its products in the state going forward, because reporting on PFAS in their products would pose “too high of a risk” that their formulas would be disclosed. “Although the BPC [Board of Pesticides Control] confirmed that such information must be held confidential as a matter of law, the BPC has not provided sufficient assurances regarding how it could ensure the protection of this information. Without confidence in that process, the potential economic and competitive harm that would result from such a disclosure (inadvertent or otherwise) is too high of a risk,” wrote Vern Hawkins, president of Syngenta Crop Protection. Pluecker called the move a “threat” the industry used to try to get regulators to roll back the requirements. According to state records, Syngenta did register a long list of its pesticides for use in the state in 2024. A Syngenta representative said the company would review detailed questions from Civil Eats, including on whether the company is affiliated with Maine Farmers Coalition in any way and why they changed course on registration. After several follow-up emails from Civil Eats, she said, “We are to unable to help you with this story at this time.“ Meanwhile, between 2022 and 2024, state records show CropLife America and RISE employed the same lobbyists from Mitchell Tardy Jackson, a Maine lobbying firm, to convince lawmakers to oppose multiple pesticide restrictions, including regulating PFAS. Mitchell Tardy Jackson also lobbies for the Maine Potato Board. This pattern of alignment of farm groups with CropLife America and RISE is in line with how opposition to pesticide restrictions has manifested in other states, where individuals who represent local farmer groups are also being compensated by the pesticide industry. In Maryland in March, lobbyist Lindsay Thompson submitted comments in opposition to the proposed state law to ban PFAS in pesticides on behalf of the Maryland Grain Producers Association, “the voice of grain farmers growing corn, wheat, barley, and sorghum across the state.” At the same time, she was being paid to lobby for the Maryland Green Industry Council and the Maryland Association of Green Industries, trade groups for pesticide sellers and users (like nurseries and turf makers) that often work closely with RISE. A few months earlier, she was registered as a lobbyist on behalf of RISE. She is now registered as a lobbyist for CropLife America. Thompson did not respond to a request for comment. In New York, Rick Zimmerman, who at one time led the New York Farm Bureau, has a client list that includes CropLife America and Syngenta. Before the state passed a law to ban the use of neonicotinoid coatings on some seeds, he submitted comments in opposition to the law on behalf of the Northeast Agribusiness and Feed Alliance, the Northeast Dairy Producers’ Association, and the New York State Vegetable Growers’ Association. Many lobbyists work for multiple clients in related industries, said Dan Raichel, director of pollinators and pesticides at the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), so in some ways the situation is not uncommon. “But there is a tension there,” he said. In the case of New York, he pointed to the fact that the bill would have restricted the use of chemicals known to be lethal to pollinators so they could not be used on corn, soy, and wheat seeds. Fruit and vegetable growers would have been able to continue spraying the insecticides as needed. Still, Zimmerman opposed the bill on behalf of vegetable growers. “That always struck me as odd. These are people that rely on pollinators,” Raichel said. “So, here’s a bill that would help with pollinator populations and beneficial insects and soil health. It was not targeted towards the fruit and vegetable industry and would not affect them at all.” Zimmerman disputed that idea. Many of New York’s vegetable farmers, he said, plant sweet corn, and their ability to use neonicotinoid coatings on those seeds was impacted by the ban. Overall, he added, the farm groups he represents are opposed to state lawmakers regulating specific groups of pesticides because they believe the current registration and review process in place is already science-based and thorough. “It’s a fundamental question as to whether the state should take the authority to ban a particular pesticide product through legislation,” he said. “Whenever the legislature gets involved in these sorts of decisions, it goes well beyond the science, and it becomes a politically driven campaign to eliminate a particular product.” “It’s a fundamental question as to whether the state should take the authority to ban a particular pesticide product through legislation. Whenever the legislature gets involved in these sorts of decisions, it goes well beyond the science, and it becomes a politically driven campaign to eliminate a particular product.” Still, Raichel doesn’t see it as politics; he’s focused on environmental impacts he feels current regulations don’t adequately take into account. And after years of working to support the New York bill, he hadn’t heard a lot from growers on those points. “The people that we were seeing in Albany were the [industry] representatives,” he said. “I’m sure there were farmers involved, but how much of an issue was this, that real farmers actually cared about? It was hard to say.” Whether or not farmers will show up to oppose restricting PFAS in pesticides is one big question heading into Maine’s 2025 session, Pluecker said. Lobbying data shows that compared to 2021 and 2022, CropLife America and RISE started to shift spending toward targeting Maine’s executive branch in 2023 and 2024. If the industry successfully organizes more farmers through its network and the new Maine Farmers Coalition, they may have more momentum. “It’s going to be an interesting conversation in the statehouse, because farmers are going to come forward and they’re going to try to say they’ve been harmed in some way by the existing law, but the existing law hasn’t gone into effect,” says Pluecker. “In fact, it has been pushed back for another two years since it was passed three years ago.” In the end, Pluecker said, he hears the argument often that there’s no need to regulate PFAS in pesticides because most of the PFAS contamination detected so far came from sludge and that’s been taken care of. But Nordell said farmers and others should look to the situation with sludge as an analogy for how to act now to avoid a similar fate due to other PFAS sources, including pesticides. “There were strong critiques of the safety of using sewage sludge as a fertilizer back in the ‘80s. There were toxicologists who recognized that it was not a safe practice, and concerns were overridden,” Nordell said. In fact, sludge application was embraced by state and federal regulators. In most states , it still is. Nordell sees stark parallels to sludge in the 1980s and PFAS in pesticides today—and says that it’s time to learn from past mistakes. “We need to be asking hard questions and . . . to move as quickly as we can to protect farming communities from further exposure, to protect our farming resources, our farm soils, and our irrigation and drinking water on farms from further contamination.” The post Why Are Pesticide Companies Fighting State Laws to Address PFAS? appeared first on Civil Eats.

Adam Nordell is one of the farmers who lost it all. After he was forced to hang up his hoe and relocate his family, he went to work for a local nonprofit called Defend Our Health, where he now uses what he calls his “unwanted knowledge base” to do outreach and education in farm communities […] The post Why Are Pesticide Companies Fighting State Laws to Address PFAS? appeared first on Civil Eats.

What Our Investigation Revealed
  • Several states are trying to phase out the use of pesticides containing per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS), long-lasting chemicals linked to serious health risks including cancer, liver damage, and reproductive effects that have already contaminated farm fields, drinking water, and human bodies.
  • CropLife America and Responsible Industry for a Sound Environment (RISE), the pesticide industry’s trade organizations, have been working to stop and slow those efforts.
  • CropLife America and RISE hire local lobbyists, some of whom also head up farmer organizations and represent local farmers in comments, hearings, and meetings with legislators.
  • RISE also deploys a “grassroots network” of individuals who work in and with pesticide companies—e.g., retailers, golf courses, and landscapers—to contact their state lawmakers using tested “key” messages and encourages them to emphasize their personal experiences as citizens.
  • Beyond PFAS, when state lawmakers introduce bills to restrict pesticide use in other ways, CropLife America and RISE often utilize a similar playbook to influence legislation.

About five years ago, regulators in Maine started to find alarming levels of per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances—commonly called PFAS or forever chemicals—in farm fields. They soon discovered the main source: sewage sludgespread as fertilizer. Some farmers could no longer produce safe food due to PFAS’ links to cancer and other health risks. Some had to shift what and where they planted, while others shut down their operations for good. Tests found water in hundreds of rural wells unsafe to drink, and families faced an uncertain future with fear.

Chemical Capture: The Power and Impact of the Pesticide Industry

Read all the stories in our series:

Adam Nordell is one of the farmers who lost it all. After he was forced to hang up his hoe and relocate his family, he went to work for a local nonprofit called Defend Our Health, where he now uses what he calls his “unwanted knowledge base” to do outreach and education in farm communities and connect affected farmers with resources.

Nordell is still living with the consequences of PFAS contamination, and he prefers not to linger on the topic of the trauma it caused his family. But if there’s one positive thing he remembers about 2020, when all of this was coming to light, it’s that the state’s often fractured farming community came together.

“I was an organic vegetable farmer, and conventional dairy farmers were reaching out expressing concern,” he said. “The prospect of chemical contamination is something that nobody wants on their farm and that everyone recognizes as posing a potential threat.”

Sensing a public health and food security crisis of epic proportions, Maine’s legislators got to work. In short order, they wrote and passed trailblazing state laws to tackle the thorny problem from multiple directions. They created a $60 million fund to support affected farmers, for example, and started a phaseout of consumer products that contain “intentionally added” PFAS. Most importantly for farmers at the time, they banned the spreading of sludge, a move Nordell said drew enthusiastic support from many, but not all, farmers.

At the same time, in 2020, watchdog groups first discovered PFAS in certain pesticides, which directed national attention to whether farm chemicals might be another source of contamination.

How significant of a PFAS source pesticides might be remains unresolved, especially because different highly accredited labs have produced conflicting tests. One initial study found high levels of PFAS in common pesticides, but when the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) did its own testing on the same products, it reported none. Environmental groups are currently contesting the agency’s report.

“The prospect of chemical contamination is something that nobody wants on their farm and that everyone recognizes as posing a potential threat.”

Regardless of those results, a few things have become clear: Based on the most commonly used global definition of PFAS, more than 60 pesticides registered by the EPA contain an active ingredient defined as PFAS. Other pesticides may contain PFAS as undisclosed additives or from chemicals leaching from the plastic containers in which they’re stored.

When Maine lawmakers turned their attention to tackling pesticides as a source of PFAS, they encountered new opposition. Between 2021 and 2024, CropLife America and Responsible Industry for a Sound Environment (RISE), the pesticide industry’s trade organizations, paid lobbyists in the state more than $100,000 to work on multiple bills, including PFAS regulations.

At the same time, RISE alerted Maine-based members of what it calls its “grassroots network.” To create that network, RISE recruits individuals who make, sell, or are heavily invested in the use of pesticides (like golf course superintendents and landscapers) around the country, provides trainings and messaging, and then sends advocacy alerts when laws are introduced in a given state.

So, while Maine passed the country’s first laws requiring companies to disclose whether pesticides they sell contain PFAS and to eventually phase out those that do, the fight continues. After the trade groups pushed for delays in the implementation of the law, legislators in 2023 delayed the phaseout of PFAS in pesticides by two years. Then, in 2024, based on Maine lobbying records, CropLife and RISE advocated for a bill to exempt agriculture entirely from the requirements. Although it initially failed, lawmakers expect it will be introduced again next year.

In 2023 testimony submitted to Maine legislators supporting rollbacks to the regulations on PFAS in pesticides, Karen Reardon, vice president of public affairs for RISE, argued that the state’s PFAS definition is overly broad and lacks a scientific basis. She also said companies were worried that submitting affidavits on PFAS in their products could expose their trade secrets, and state regulators needed more time to develop a system that would adequately protect “confidential business information.”

Some farm groups, including the Maine Potato Board and Maine Farm Bureau, also oppose the rules for PFAS in pesticides and have called for the agricultural exemption, citing the fact that losing access to certain pesticides could hurt the state’s farmers. In arguing for an exemption for agriculture last March, Donald Flannery, then the executive director of the Maine Potato Board, cited the economic value Maine’s farmers bring to the state. He noted that pesticides used in Maine “are all approved and licensed by EPA,” and said that while he acknowledged the need to clean up PFAS pollution, business and industry should be allowed to move forward in the meantime.

If pesticides are not exempt from PFAS regulations, he said, “there is risk of losing products, which will have a negative impact on our ability to grow and protect our crops.”

Supporters of the PFAS regulations dispute that idea because the law contains a safeguard allowing farmers to use pesticides that contain PFAS if there is a “currently unavoidable use.” (For example, if a farmer shows there is no alternative product that can address a pest issue they face.)

A Well-Worn Playbook

The battle over regulating PFAS in pesticides in Maine looks a lot like another heating up in Maryland. In fact, it illustrates a scenario repeated in states nationwide each year, where the pesticide industry activates a well-worn playbook in an effort to stop restrictions on pesticide use that are intended to address a broad range of impacts.And it involves some of the same tactics Civil Eats reported on in this series, in our story on Bayer’s lobbying efforts to pass laws limiting their liability for alleged harms caused by glyphosate. 

First, CropLife, RISE, and the companies they represent fund state-level lobbying. At the same time, they activate individuals within companies that sell and use pesticides to advocate for what the companies want. Lastly, they align with farmer organizations that likely have more clout in the eyes of lawmakers and the public.

Rick Zimmerman, a New York lobbyist who has represented both pesticide companies and farm groups to oppose state pesticide restrictions, said that alignment was not about using farmer capital. Instead, he said, it happens because farmer groups and the pesticide industry are generally opposed to state governments getting involved in the regulation of farm chemicals. “The various organizations and companies that I represented are on common ground,” he said. “It’s just a natural opportunity for organizations and companies with similar interests to be able to collaborate and work together.”

However, whether the issue is neonicotinoid use in New York or small towns in Colorado passing their own pesticide laws, the strategy has real impacts. In the case of PFAS, Nordell and others said that it could mean consequences for farmers, farmworkers, and broader communities.

“Are there large out-of-state corporations that have a financial incentive engendering opposition to [Maine’s pesticide] laws? Yes, certainly. They show up in committee every session, and I think there’s a lot of misinformation about what will happen as we regulate PFAS out of the economy.”

Maine’s initial assessment found close to 1,500 pesticide products that are made with an active ingredient that meets the state’s definition of PFAS. Nordell said that while the contamination from sludge was relatively easy to test and trace, pesticides may not be as visible as a source of PFAS.

“We should really think about farmworkers who are spraying the pesticides. We should think about the neighbors of the farmers who depend on clean water like we all do. All of us are dependent on a clean food system. When, for the sake of commerce, we turn a blind eye to environmental toxins, we all suffer in any scenario—but certainly when we’re talking about the safety of the food supply,” Nordell said. “Are there large out-of-state corporations that have a financial incentive engendering opposition to [Maine’s] laws? Yes, certainly. They show up in committee every session, and I think there’s a lot of misinformation about what will happen as we regulate PFAS out of the economy.”

Representatives from CropLife America and RISE did not respond to Civil Eats’ repeated requests for interviews, or to detailed questions sent asking for their comments on points covered in this article.

CropLife and RISE Lead the Way

While Maine grappled with PFAS within its borders, other sources of PFAS, like fire-fighting foam and takeoutcontainers, entered the national conversation. PFAS pollution was increasingly measured in drinking water and human bodies, and information  on the health risks linked to exposure to common PFAS like PFOA and PFOS, even at very low levels, began to accumulate.

A few states to the south, Maryland has also been trying to stay ahead of the game, and the Maryland Pesticide Education Network (MPEN) is central to that effort. MPEN has been one of the most active pesticide watchdog groups in the country for three decades, and over the last few years, they turned their attention to PFAS.

PFAS expert Linda Birnbaum is a toxicologist who spent 20 years at the EPA and directed the National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences. As she put it during MPEN’s annual conference in November, “You give me a physiological system, and it’s likely there will be evidence that PFAS disrupt it,” she said, pointing to associated harms including kidney cancer, liver toxicity, high cholesterol, and birth defects.

Even so, Ruth Berlin, MPEN’s executive director, was not surprised when CropLife and RISE showed up earlier this year, after Delegate Sheila Ruth introduced a state law to ban selling pesticides that contain PFAS as an active ingredient starting in June 2025.

Berlin said that RISE representatives came with many of the same talking points they’d used to fight previous pesticide restrictions. For example, if lawmakers take away the use of any pesticide, “they’re going to destroy farming. They’re going to destroy public health. And it’s safe because EPA vets these pesticides.”

 CropLife America is a well-known trade association that advances the interests of farm chemical giants. RISE presents itself as a separate organization that represents the “specialty” pesticide industry and tends to work on the off-farm side of things. They operate under the same 501(c)(6) and share a D.C. address. They hold joint conferencesand share lobbyists .

But RISE flies more under the radar than CropLife America, even though it played a pivotal role in a coalition that helped pass laws now on the books in more than 40 states that prevent local governments from further restricting pesticide use. Those laws make it illegal, for example, for a given city council to ban pesticide spraying at schools.

Astroturfing 101: Creating a ‘Grassroots’ Network

Developing and operating its “grassroots network” is key to how RISE responds to state laws.

As RISE’s director of state affairs, Jon Gaeta, explained in a webinar at the start of 2022, “When there’s a regulatory issue at the state level, RISE is ready to spring into action.”

“This committee is very interesting because we do have what I like to call ‘activist legislators’ . . . that truly do believe in the environmental cause, and, unfortunately, they have run a significant amount of pesticide legislation that can be detrimental to our industry.”

During the presentation, Gaeta showed participants where that was currently happening. He flagged Maine as a “battleground situation,” particularly with pesticide regulation bills coming out of the state’s committee on agriculture, conservation, and forestry.

“This committee is very interesting because we do have what I like to call ‘activist legislators,’” he said. “These are legislators that truly do believe in the environmental cause, and, unfortunately, they have run a significant amount of pesticide legislation that can be detrimental to our industry.”

However, Gaeta noted that RISE had been able to leverage the fact that the committee provides easy opportunities for testimony. “We had a lot of great people show up last year and tell their stories about how they use certain pesticides and what they do for a living and that really does make a difference,” he said.

Gaeta pointed to Colorado as another focal point. RISE was anticipating that lawmakers there would try to pass a bill that would again allow local communities to restrict pesticide use where they saw fit. “This is going to be an uphill battle,” he said. “We really do need folks to flex their grassroots muscle in Colorado.”

Kate Burgess, conservation manager for the National Council of Environmental Legislators, tracks state pesticidelaws around the country. She pointed to Colorado as “an example that saw intense lobbying from the pesticide industry.”

The Colorado bill failed to gain traction, and RISE touted its role in its 2024 annual report: “With mounting political pressure for local control, 36 pesticide applicators showed up to testify in person against the bill. Leveraging these voices, our in-state lobbyist managed the vote count throughout the session, ultimately preventing a full floor vote in both legislative chambers.”

In this screenshot from the RISE 2024 Annual Report, a In this screenshot from the RISE 2024 Annual Report, a

Two screenshots from the RISE 2024 Annual Report. At left, a “legislative heat map” showing the states where the most bills were introduced that could affect the pesticide industry. Right: A list of “successes in the states” that notes how the group’s targeted lobbying efforts tracked 684 bills nationwide, and through lobbying pressure in Colorado was able to prevent a vote on the state’s pesticide preemption law.

Ensuring those applicators showed up with effective talking points is a key function of RISE’s grassroots network. During another 2022 RISE webinar on messaging, McGavock Edwards, a senior vice president at PR firm Eckel & Vaughn, presented key messages that would later be provided to members in a toolkit.

The messages had been developed using RISE public survey results and tested for resonance. They are also prominent on RISE’s public-facing website. They include that pesticides improve quality of life by enabling green spaces like athletic fields and by eliminating invasive species, and that they benefit public health by controlling disease-carrying insects like mosquitos and ticks.

A screenshot from a RISE webinar spotlighting the key messages the group asks their network of advocates to use when communicating with policymakers.A screenshot of a RISE webinar with Jon Gaeta showing how members of the group's advocacy network can get involved.

At left, a screenshot from a RISE webinar spotlighting the key messages the group asks their network of advocates to use when communicating with policymakers. At right: A screenshot of a RISE webinar with Jon Gaeta showing how members of the group’s advocacy network can get involved.

The National Association of Landscape Professionals, a RISE member, deployed several of those messages in its comments submitted in opposition to the Colorado law. It also included that, “Experts at the Environmental Protection Agency rigorously evaluate each pesticide’s active ingredients for human and environmental safety and efficacy before deciding to register the product for sale and use.”

That language is similar to points on a list of five key regulatory messages provided in the 2022 RISE messaging webinar by Karen Reardon, vice president of public affairs at the organization. They were selected as being especially resonant based on the results of the RISE survey. “These are the ones that work,” she said, mentioning, specifically, that they’d also tested the word “rigorous.”

In Maryland, the same language was applied to argue against phasing out pesticides that contain PFAS. “EPA subjects all new pesticide products to rigorous human health and environmental review and testing requirements to satisfy these standards for registration,” Reardon wrote in RISE’s testimony.

Some of RISE’s grassroots training webinars are created and presented in conjunction with CropLife America, but CropLife also does its own trainings of industry professionals who advocate for pesticides in state legislatures.

In a 2021 grassroots advocacy webinar hosted by RISE and CropLife America, Leslie Garcia, manager of sustainability and stewardship at Valent USA, a California-based pesticide maker owned by Japanese chemical giant Sumimoto Chemical Company, talked about bringing the CropLife AgVocate training program to employees at Valent.

In particular, she said, Valent focused on training employees in departments such as IT and finance, who might not have expertise in agriculture or chemistry and “who aren’t aways aware of the legislative threats to our industry or how to be a voice for the industry within their own personal networks,” Garcia said. After a series of trainings at Valent, she reported in the webinar, 80 percent of employees signed up for the CropLife America “Call-to-Action Network.”

CropLife also works closely with the Clyde Group, a D.C.-based branding and communications agency, to train advocates and affect state laws. According to Clyde’s website, its team has done more than 100 CropLife trainings “to prepare advocates to confidently speak to their elected officials, give testimonies, and engage media.” They have also “engaged advocates to speak” on CropLife’s behalf in 15 states.

In October 2022, the California Association for Pest Control Advisors dedicated more than a day of its annual conference to advocacy training. There, Anthony LaFauce from the Clyde Group told the pest control advisors that they should never show up to advocate in a business suit. Instead, he said, they should dress the part of a farmer.

Farmer or Pesticide Lobbyist?

Back in Maine, Representative Bill Pluecker, an Independent, is one of the “activist legislators” Gaeta referred to in the RISE webinar. Pluecker is an active farmer who has served in the House of Representatives since 2018 and also works for the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association. For several years, he’s been one of the lawmakers leading the charge to get pesticides that contain PFAS out of Maine.

“PFAS is something that Mainers across the political spectrum are paying attention to,” he told Civil Eats. This is because, in Maine as elsewhere, contamination extends beyond farms: “We have large chunks of area where not only can you not eat the fish, but you also can’t eat the turkey, and you can’t eat the deer.”

While not everyone agrees on exactly what bans on PFAS in pesticides should look like, Pluecker said farmers have rarely shown up to oppose the regulations. Instead, he said it always seemed to be representatives of CropLife and RISE.

But Pluecker added that heading into the 2025 legislative session, it seems like the industry is working harder to leverage farmer voices on the issue, because of the political sway they hold. When the session starts, he expects exempting agriculture from the rules on PFAS in pesticides may be back on the table.

At the end of 2023, Julie Ann Smith, former executive director of the Maine Farm Bureau, posted on her LinkedIn that she had started as a lobbyist for a new advocacy organization called the Maine Farmers Coalition. The first publicly available record of the organization’s website is from January 2024, where it says the organization “represents the backbone of the state’s agricultural sector” and lists two members, a large potato company that spans farms and processing and the state’s biggest wild blueberry company.

In March, Smith testified at a hearing on behalf of Maine Farmers Coalition in support of exempting pesticides from PFAS regulations. Smith said the farmers she represents understand concerns surrounding PFAS and their potential health effects but that the EPA has already implemented a roadmap to address PFAS pollution.

Exempting pesticides “would ensure that farmers are still able to grow and protect their crops and strike a balance between protecting the environment and ensuring food security for all,” she said. In April, the Maine Farmers Coalition hosted an online meeting for farmers. PFAS was on a list of discussion topics related to “critical legislation that will impact your farm.”

In August, according to an email provided to Civil Eats, Smith reached out to Maine Senators Henry Ingwersen and Tracy Brenner and Representatives Lori Gramlich and Bill Pluecker, from her Maine Farmers Coalition email, to try to organize a dinner with industry representatives from Syngenta, a global pesticide giant that is a subsidiary of ChemChina. Smith said she would review questions from Civil Eats but did not respond to an email that provided detailed questions by press time.

Syngenta did not report lobbying in Maine last year, but it has been active in efforts to slow the implementation of PFAS restrictions in the past. In 2023, CropLife and RISE were pushing the Maine Board of Pesticides to delay reporting requirements for PFAS in pesticides.

When the Board failed to extend the deadline, Syngenta declared in a letter to its distributors and retailers that it would not re-register its products in the state going forward, because reporting on PFAS in their products would pose “too high of a risk” that their formulas would be disclosed.

“Although the BPC [Board of Pesticides Control] confirmed that such information must be held confidential as a matter of law, the BPC has not provided sufficient assurances regarding how it could ensure the protection of this information. Without confidence in that process, the potential economic and competitive harm that would result from such a disclosure (inadvertent or otherwise) is too high of a risk,” wrote Vern Hawkins, president of Syngenta Crop Protection.

Pluecker called the move a “threat” the industry used to try to get regulators to roll back the requirements. According to state records, Syngenta did register a long list of its pesticides for use in the state in 2024. A Syngenta representative said the company would review detailed questions from Civil Eats, including on whether the company is affiliated with Maine Farmers Coalition in any way and why they changed course on registration.

After several follow-up emails from Civil Eats, she said, “We are to unable to help you with this story at this time.“

Meanwhile, between 2022 and 2024, state records show CropLife America and RISE employed the same lobbyists from Mitchell Tardy Jackson, a Maine lobbying firm, to convince lawmakers to oppose multiple pesticide restrictions, including regulating PFAS. Mitchell Tardy Jackson also lobbies for the Maine Potato Board.

This pattern of alignment of farm groups with CropLife America and RISE is in line with how opposition to pesticide restrictions has manifested in other states, where individuals who represent local farmer groups are also being compensated by the pesticide industry.

In Maryland in March, lobbyist Lindsay Thompson submitted comments in opposition to the proposed state law to ban PFAS in pesticides on behalf of the Maryland Grain Producers Association, “the voice of grain farmers growing corn, wheat, barley, and sorghum across the state.”

At the same time, she was being paid to lobby for the Maryland Green Industry Council and the Maryland Association of Green Industries, trade groups for pesticide sellers and users (like nurseries and turf makers) that often work closely with RISE. A few months earlier, she was registered as a lobbyist on behalf of RISE. She is now registered as a lobbyist for CropLife America. Thompson did not respond to a request for comment.

In New York, Rick Zimmerman, who at one time led the New York Farm Bureau, has a client list that includes CropLife America and Syngenta. Before the state passed a law to ban the use of neonicotinoid coatings on some seeds, he submitted comments in opposition to the law on behalf of the Northeast Agribusiness and Feed Alliance, the Northeast Dairy Producers’ Association, and the New York State Vegetable Growers’ Association.

Many lobbyists work for multiple clients in related industries, said Dan Raichel, director of pollinators and pesticides at the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), so in some ways the situation is not uncommon. “But there is a tension there,” he said.

In the case of New York, he pointed to the fact that the bill would have restricted the use of chemicals known to be lethal to pollinators so they could not be used on corn, soy, and wheat seeds. Fruit and vegetable growers would have been able to continue spraying the insecticides as needed. Still, Zimmerman opposed the bill on behalf of vegetable growers.

“That always struck me as odd. These are people that rely on pollinators,” Raichel said. “So, here’s a bill that would help with pollinator populations and beneficial insects and soil health. It was not targeted towards the fruit and vegetable industry and would not affect them at all.”

Zimmerman disputed that idea. Many of New York’s vegetable farmers, he said, plant sweet corn, and their ability to use neonicotinoid coatings on those seeds was impacted by the ban. Overall, he added, the farm groups he represents are opposed to state lawmakers regulating specific groups of pesticides because they believe the current registration and review process in place is already science-based and thorough.

“It’s a fundamental question as to whether the state should take the authority to ban a particular pesticide product through legislation,” he said. “Whenever the legislature gets involved in these sorts of decisions, it goes well beyond the science, and it becomes a politically driven campaign to eliminate a particular product.”

“It’s a fundamental question as to whether the state should take the authority to ban a particular pesticide product through legislation. Whenever the legislature gets involved in these sorts of decisions, it goes well beyond the science, and it becomes a politically driven campaign to eliminate a particular product.”

Still, Raichel doesn’t see it as politics; he’s focused on environmental impacts he feels current regulations don’t adequately take into account. And after years of working to support the New York bill, he hadn’t heard a lot from growers on those points. “The people that we were seeing in Albany were the [industry] representatives,” he said. “I’m sure there were farmers involved, but how much of an issue was this, that real farmers actually cared about? It was hard to say.”

Whether or not farmers will show up to oppose restricting PFAS in pesticides is one big question heading into Maine’s 2025 session, Pluecker said.

Lobbying data shows that compared to 2021 and 2022, CropLife America and RISE started to shift spending toward targeting Maine’s executive branch in 2023 and 2024. If the industry successfully organizes more farmers through its network and the new Maine Farmers Coalition, they may have more momentum.

“It’s going to be an interesting conversation in the statehouse, because farmers are going to come forward and they’re going to try to say they’ve been harmed in some way by the existing law, but the existing law hasn’t gone into effect,” says Pluecker. “In fact, it has been pushed back for another two years since it was passed three years ago.”

In the end, Pluecker said, he hears the argument often that there’s no need to regulate PFAS in pesticides because most of the PFAS contamination detected so far came from sludge and that’s been taken care of. But Nordell said farmers and others should look to the situation with sludge as an analogy for how to act now to avoid a similar fate due to other PFAS sources, including pesticides.

“There were strong critiques of the safety of using sewage sludge as a fertilizer back in the ‘80s. There were toxicologists who recognized that it was not a safe practice, and concerns were overridden,” Nordell said. In fact, sludge application was embraced by state and federal regulators. In most states , it still is.

Nordell sees stark parallels to sludge in the 1980s and PFAS in pesticides today—and says that it’s time to learn from past mistakes.

“We need to be asking hard questions and . . . to move as quickly as we can to protect farming communities from further exposure, to protect our farming resources, our farm soils, and our irrigation and drinking water on farms from further contamination.”

The post Why Are Pesticide Companies Fighting State Laws to Address PFAS? appeared first on Civil Eats.

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Luna: A moon on Earth

MIT students and faculty designed and fabricated a control room for the first lunar landing mission since the Apollo era — an achievement in design and engineering.

On March 6, MIT launched its first lunar landing mission since the Apollo era, sending three payloads — the AstroAnt, the RESOURCE 3D camera, and the HUMANS nanowafer — to the moon’s south polar region. The mission was based out of Luna, a mission control space designed by MIT Department of Architecture students and faculty in collaboration with the MIT Space Exploration Initiative, Inploration, and Simpson Gumpertz and Heger. It is installed in the MIT Media Lab ground-floor gallery and is open to the public as part of Artfinity, MIT’s Festival for the Arts. The installation allows visitors to observe payload operators at work and interact with the software used for the mission, thanks to virtual reality.A central hub for mission operations, the control room is a structural and conceptual achievement, balancing technical challenges with a vision for an immersive experience, and the result of a multidisciplinary approach. “This will be our moon on Earth,” says Mateo Fernandez, a third-year MArch student and 2024 MAD Design Fellow, who designed and fabricated Luna in collaboration with Nebyu Haile, a PhD student in the Building Technology program in the Department of Architecture, and Simon Lesina Debiasi, a research assistant in the SMArchS Computation program and part of the Self-Assembly Lab. “The design was meant for people — for the researchers to be able to see what’s happening at all times, and for the spectators to have a 360 panoramic view of everything that’s going on,” explains Fernandez. “A key vision of the team was to create a control room that broke away from the traditional, closed-off model — one that instead invited the public to observe, ask questions, and engage with the mission,” adds Haile.For this project, students were advised by Skylar Tibbits, founder and co-director of the Self-Assembly Lab, associate professor of design research, and the Morningside Academy for Design (MAD)’s assistant director for education; J. Roc Jih, associate professor of the practice in architectural design; John Ochsendorf, MIT Class of 1942 Professor with appointments in the departments of Architecture and Civil and Environmental Engineering, and founding director of MAD; and Brandon Clifford, associate professor of architecture. The team worked closely with Cody Paige, director of the Space Exploration Initiative at the Media Lab, and her collaborators, emphasizing that they “tried to keep things very minimal, very simple, because at the end of the day,” explains Fernandez, “we wanted to create a design that allows the researchers to shine and the mission to shine.”“This project grew out of the Space Architecture class we co-taught with Cody Paige and astronaut and MIT AeroAstro [Department of Aeronautics and Astronautics] faculty member Jeff Hoffman” in the fall semester, explains Tibbits. “Mateo was part of that studio, and from there, Cody invited us to design the mission control project. We then brought Mateo onboard, Simon, Nebyu, and the rest of the project team.” According to Tibbits, “this project represents MIT’s mind-and-hand ethos. We had designers, architects, artists, computational experts, and engineers working together, reflecting the polymath vision — left brain, right brain, the creative and the technical coming together to make this possible.”Luna was funded and informed by Tibbits and Jih’s Professor Amar G. Bose Research Grant Program. “J. Jih and I had been doing research for the Bose grant around basalt and mono-material construction,” says Tibbits, adding that they “had explored foamed glass materials similar to pumice or foamed basalt, which are also similar to lunar regolith.” “FOAMGLAS is typically used for insulation, but it has diverse applications, including direct ground contact and exterior walls, with strong acoustic and thermal properties,” says Jih. “We helped Mateo understand how the material is used in architecture today, and how it could be applied in this project, aligning with our work on new material palettes and mono-material construction techniques.”Additional funding came from Inploration, a project run by creative director, author, and curator Lawrence Azerrad, as well as expeditionary artist, curator, and analog astronaut artist Richelle Ellis, and Comcast, a Media Lab member company. It was also supported by the MIT Morningside Academy for Design through Fernandez’s Design Fellowship. Additional support came from industry members such as Owens Corning (construction materials), Bose (communications), as well as MIT Media Lab member companies Dell Technologies (operations hardware) and Steelcase (operations seating). A moon on EarthWhile the lunar mission ended prematurely, the team says it achieved success in the design and construction of a control room embodying MIT’s design approach and capacity to explore new technologies while maintaining simplicity. Luna looks like variations of the moon, offering different perspectives of the moon’s round or crescent shape, depending on the viewer’s position.“What’s remarkable is how close the final output is to Mateo’s original sketches and renderings,” Tibbits notes. “That often doesn’t happen — where the final built project aligns so precisely with the initial design intent.”Luna’s entire structure is built from FOAMGLAS, a durable material composed of glass cells usually used for insulation. “FOAMGLAS is an interesting material,” says Lesina Debiasi, who supported fabrication efforts, ensuring a fast and safe process. “It’s relatively durable and light, but can easily be crumbled with a sharp edge or blade, requiring every step of the fabrication process — cutting, texturing, sealing — to be carefully controlled.”Fernandez, whose design experience was influenced by the idea that “simple moves” are most powerful, explains: “We’re giving a second life to materials that are not thought of for building construction … and I think that’s an effective idea. Here, you don’t need wood, concrete, rebar — you can build with one material only.” While the interior of the dome-shaped construction is smooth, the exterior was hand textured to evoke the basalt-like surface of the moon.The lightweight cellular glass produced by Owens Corning, which sponsored part of the material, comes as an unexpected choice for a compression structure — a type of architectural design where stability is achieved through the natural force of compression, usually implying heavy materials. The control room doesn’t use connections or additional supports, and depends upon the precise placement, size, and weight of individual blocks to create a stable form from a succession of arches.“Traditional compression structures rely on their own weight for stability, but using a material that is more than 10 times lighter than masonry meant we had to rethink everything. It was about finding the perfect balance between design vision and structural integrity,” reflects Haile, who was responsible for the structural calculations for the dome and its support.Compression relies on gravity, and wouldn’t be a viable construction method on the moon itself. “We’re building using physics, loads, structures, and equilibrium to create this thing that looks like the moon, but depends on Earth’s forces to be built. I think people don’t see that at first, but there’s something cheeky and ironic about it,” confides Fernandez, acknowledging that the project merges historical building methods with contemporary design.The location and purpose of Luna — both a work space and an installation engaging the public — implied balancing privacy and transparency to achieve functionality. “One of the most important design elements that reflected this vision was the openness of the dome,” says Haile. “We worked closely from the start to find the right balance — adjusting the angle and size of the opening to make the space feel welcoming, while still offering some privacy to those working inside.”The power of collaborationWith the FOAMGLAS material, the team had to invent a fabrication process that would achieve the initial vision while maintaining structural integrity. Sourcing a material with radically different properties compared to conventional construction implied collaborating closely on the engineering front, the lightweight nature of the cellular glass requiring creative problem-solving: “What appears perfect in digital models doesn’t always translate seamlessly into the real world,” says Haile. “The slope, curves, and overall geometry directly determine whether the dome will stand, requiring Mateo and me to work in sync from the very beginning through the end of construction.” While the engineering was primarily led by Haile and Ochsendorf, the structural design was officially reviewed and approved by Paul Kassabian at Simpson Gumpertz and Heger (SGH), ensuring compliance with engineering standards and building codes.“None of us had worked with FOAMGLAS before, and we needed to figure out how best to cut, texture, and seal it,” says Lesina Debiasi. “Since each row consists of a distinct block shape and specific angles, ensuring accuracy and repeatability across all the blocks became a major challenge. Since we had to cut each individual block four times before we were able to groove and texture the surface, creating a safe production process and mitigating the distribution of dust was critical,” he explains. “Working inside a tent, wearing personal protective equipment like masks, visors, suits, and gloves made it possible to work for an extended period with this material.”In addition, manufacturing introduced small margins of error threatening the structural integrity of the dome, prompting hands-on experimentation. “The control room is built from 12 arches,” explains Fernandez. “When one of the arches closes, it becomes stable, and you can move on to the next one … Going from side to side, you meet at the middle and close the arch using a special block — a keystone, which was cut to measure,” he says. “In conversations with our advisors, we decided to account for irregularities in the final keystone of each row. Once this custom keystone sat in place, the forces would stabilize the arch and make it secure,” adds Lesina Debiasi.“This project exemplified the best practices of engineers and architects working closely together from design inception to completion — something that was historically common but is less typical today,” says Haile. “This collaboration was not just necessary — it ultimately improved the final result.”Fernandez, who is supported this year by the MAD Design Fellowship, expressed how “the fellowship gave [him] the freedom to explore [his] passions and also keep [his] agency.”“In a way, this project embodies what design education at MIT should be,” Tibbits reflects. “We’re building at full scale, with real-world constraints, experimenting at the limits of what we know — design, computation, engineering, and science. It’s hands-on, highly experimental, and deeply collaborative, which is exactly what we dream of for MAD, and MIT’s design education more broadly.”“Luna, our physical lunar mission control, highlights the incredible collaboration across the Media Lab, Architecture, and the School of Engineering to bring our lunar mission to the world. We are democratizing access to space for all,” says Dava Newman, Media Lab director and Apollo Professor of Astronautics.A full list of contributors and supporters can be found at the Morningside Academy of Design's website.

Conservatives on the Cy-Fair ISD school board escalate fight over textbooks

The decision to strip chapters from books that had already won the approval of the state’s Republican-controlled board of education represents an escalation in how local school boards run by ideological conservatives influence what children learn.

Danielle Villasana for ProPublica and The Texas TribuneThe Cypress-Fairbanks school board has attracted community protests, including at this meeting in February, for its decisions regarding gender identity, its push for a biblical curriculum and the removal of chapters from state-approved textbooks. Credit: Danielle Villasana for ProPublica and The Texas Tribune“A Texas school leader says material about diversity in state-approved textbooks violated the law.” was first published by The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan media organization that informs Texans — and engages with them — about public policy, politics, government and statewide issues. This article is co-published with ProPublica, a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up for ProPublica's Big Story newsletter to receive stories like this one in your inbox as soon as they are published. Also, sign up for The Brief, our daily newsletter that keeps readers up to speed on the most essential Texas news. In 2022, conservative groups celebrated a "great victory" over "wokeified" curriculum when the Texas State Board of Education squashed proposed social studies requirements for schools that included teaching kindergartners how Rosa Parks and Cesar Chavez "advocated for positive change." Another win came a year later as the state board rejected several textbooks that some Republicans argued could promote a "radical environmental agenda" because they linked climate change to human behavior or presented what conservatives perceived to be a negative portrayal of fossil fuels. By the time the state board approved science and career-focused textbooks for use in Texas classrooms at the end of 2023, it appeared to be comfortably in sync with conservatives who had won control of local school boards across the state in recent years. But the Republican-led state education board had not gone far enough for the conservative majority on the school board for Texas' third-largest school district. At the tail end of a school board meeting in May of last year, Natalie Blasingame, a board member in suburban Houston's Cypress-Fairbanks Independent School District, proposed stripping more than a dozen chapters from five textbooks that had been approved by the state board and were recommended by a district committee of teachers and staffers. The chapters, Blasingame said, were inappropriate for students because they discussed "vaccines and polio," touched on "topics of depopulation," had "an agenda out of the United Nations" and included "a perspective that humans are bad." RELATED: Cy-Fair ISD’s libraries are frequently closed after trustees cut librarian positions in half In a less-publicized move, Blasingame, a former bilingual educator, proposed omitting several chapters from a textbook for aspiring educators titled "Teaching." One of those chapters focuses on how to understand and educate diverse learners and states that it "is up to schools and teachers to help every student feel comfortable, accepted and valued," and that "when schools view diversity as a positive force, it can enhance learning and prepare students to work effectively in a diverse society." Blasingame did not offer additional details about her opposition to the chapters during the meeting. She didn't have to. The school board voted 6-1 to delete them. Credit: Danielle Villasana for ProPublica and The Texas TribuneNatalie Blasingame, a member of the Cypress-Fairbanks School Board, proposed cutting chapters from five textbooks. Credit: Danielle Villasana for ProPublica and The Texas TribuneThe decision to strip chapters from books that had already won the approval of the state's conservative board of education represents an escalation in local school boards' efforts to influence what children in public schools are taught. Through the years, battles over textbooks have played out at the state level, where Republicans hold the majority. But local school boards that are supposed to be nonpartisan had largely avoided such fights — they weighed in on whether some books should be in libraries but rarely intervened so directly into classroom instruction. Cypress-Fairbanks now provides a model for supercharging these efforts at more fine-grained control, said Christopher Kulesza, a scholar at Rice University's Baker Institute for Public Policy. "One of the things that would concern me is that it's ideology pushing the educational standards rather than what's fact," he said. RELATED: Cy-Fair ISD’s focus on libraries followed flood of book challenges by two trustees’ inner circles The board's actions send a troubling message to students of color, Alissa Sundrani, a junior at Cy-Fair High School, said. "At the point that you're saying that diversity, or making people feel safe and included, is not in the guidelines or not in the scope of what Texas wants us to be learning, then I think that's an issue." With about 120,000 students, nearly 80% of whom are of Hispanic, Black and Asian descent, Cy-Fair is the largest school district in Texas to be taken over by ideologically driven conservative candidates. Blasingame was among a slate of candidates who were elected through the at-large voting system that ProPublica and The Texas Tribune found has been leveraged by conservative groups seeking to influence what children are taught about race and gender. Supporters say the system, in which voters cast ballots for all candidates districtwide instead of ones who live within specific geographic boundaries, results in broader representation for students, but voting rights advocates argue that it dilutes the power of voters of color. First image: Cy-Fair's administration building. Second image: People gather before a school board meeting. Credit: Danielle Villasana for ProPublica and The Texas TribuneBlasingame and others campaigned against the teaching of critical race theory, an advanced academic concept that discusses systemic racism. Most of the winning candidates had financial backing from Texans for Educational Freedom, a statewide PAC that sought to build a "stronghold" of school board trustees "committed to fighting Critical Race Theory and other anti-American agendas and curriculums." The PAC helped elect at least 30 school board candidates across the state between 2021 and 2023, in part because it focused on anti-CRT sentiment, said its founder, Christopher Zook Jr. "You could literally go out and say, CRT, you know, ‘Stop critical race theory in schools,' and everyone knew what that means, right?" he said. "The polling showed that that messaging works." Shortly before Blasingame and two fellow conservatives won election in 2021, Texas lawmakers passed a landmark law that sought to shape how teachers approach instruction on race and racism. The law, which aimed to ban critical race theory, prohibits the "inculcation" of the notion that someone's race makes them "inherently racist, sexist, or oppressive, whether consciously or unconsciously." Blasingame made no mention of the law when she pushed to remove chapters about teaching a diverse student body, but pointed to it as the reason for her objection in text messages and an interview with ProPublica and the Tribune. Though Blasingame acknowledged that one of the chapters had "very good presentation on learning styles," she said removing the whole chapter was the only option because administrators said individual lines could not be stricken from the book. The textbook referred to "cultural humility" and called for aspiring teachers to examine their "unintentional and subtle biases," concepts that she said "go against" the law. The school board needed to act because the book "slipped through" before the state's education agency implemented a plan to make sure materials complied with the law, Blasingame said. Blasingame recommended removing several chapters from a textbook called "Teaching." The chapters included references to "cultural humility" and "unintentional and subtle biases," which she believes are not permitted under state law, which specifies how topics concerning race can be taught. Credit: Document obtained and sentences enlarged by ProPublica and The Texas TribuneState Board Chair Aaron Kinsey, who is staunchly anti-CRT, declined to say if he thought the body had allowed textbooks to slip through as Blasingame suggested. Kinsey, however, said in a statement that contracts with approved publishers include requirements that their textbooks comply with all applicable laws. He did not comment on Cy-Fair removing chapters. Cy-Fair appears to have taken one of the state's most aggressive approaches to enforcing the law, which does not address what is in textbooks but rather how educators approach teaching, said Paige Duggins-Clay, the chief legal analyst for the Intercultural Development Research Agency, a San Antonio-based nonprofit that advocates for equal educational opportunity. "It definitely feels like Cy-Fair is seeking to test the boundaries of the law," Duggins-Clay said. "And I think in a district like Cy-Fair, because it is so diverse, that is actively hurting a lot of young people who are ultimately paying the cost and bearing the burden of these really bad policies." The law's vagueness has drawn criticism from conservative groups who say it allows school districts to skirt its prohibitions. Last month, Attorney General Ken Paxton filed a lawsuit against the Coppell school district in North Texas and accused administrators of illegally teaching "woke and hateful" CRT curriculum. The suit points to a secret recording of an administrator saying that the district will do what's right for students "despite what our state standards say." The lawsuit does not provide examples of curriculum that it alleges violates state law on how to teach race. In a letter to parents, Superintendent Brad Hunt said that the district was following state standards and would "continue to fully comply with applicable state and federal laws." Teachers and progressive groups have also argued that the law leaves too much open to interpretation, which causes educators to self-censor and could be used to target anything that mentions race. Blasingame disputes the critique. A longtime administrator and teacher whose family emigrated from South Africa when she was 9 years old, she said she embraces diversity in schools. "Diversity is people and I love people," she said. "That's what I'm called to do, first as a Christian and then as an educator." But she said she opposes teaching about systemic racism and state-sanctioned efforts to promote diversity, equity and inclusion, saying that they overemphasize the importance of skin color. "They seed hate and teach students that they are starting off behind and have unconquerable disadvantages that they will suffer all their lives," Blasingame said. "Not only does this teach hate among people, but how could you love a country where this is true?" The assertion that teaching diversity turns students of color into victims is simply wrong, educators and students told the news organizations. Instead, they said, such discussions make them feel safe and accepted. One educator who uses the "Teaching" textbook said the board members' decision to remove chapters related to diversity has been painful for students. "I don't know what their true intentions are, but to my students, what they are seeing is that unless you fit into the mold and you are like them, you are not valued," said the teacher, who did not want to be named because she feared losing her job. "There were several who said it made them not want to teach anymore because they felt so unsupported." The board's interpretation of the state's law on the teaching of race has stifled important classroom discussions, said Sundrani, the student in the district. Her AP English class, a seminar about the novel "Huckleberry Finn," steered clear of what she thinks are badly needed conversations about race, slavery and how that history impacts people today. "There were topics that we just couldn't discuss," she said. Disclosure: Rice University and Rice University’s Baker Institute for Public Policy have been financial supporters of The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that is funded in part by donations from members, foundations and corporate sponsors. Financial supporters play no role in the Tribune’s journalism. Find a complete list of them here. This article originally appeared in The Texas Tribune at https://www.texastribune.org/2025/04/02/texas-cypress-fairbanks-removed-textbook-chapters/. The Texas Tribune is a member-supported, nonpartisan newsroom informing and engaging Texans on state politics and policy. Learn more at texastribune.org.

A Texas school leader says material about diversity in state-approved textbooks violated the law.

The decision to strip chapters from books that had already won the approval of the state’s Republican-controlled board of education represents an escalation in how local school boards run by ideological conservatives influence what children learn.

This article is co-published with ProPublica, a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up for ProPublica’s Big Story newsletter to receive stories like this one in your inbox as soon as they are published. Also, sign up for The Brief, our daily newsletter that keeps readers up to speed on the most essential Texas news. In 2022, conservative groups celebrated a “great victory” over “wokeified” curriculum when the Texas State Board of Education squashed proposed social studies requirements for schools that included teaching kindergartners how Rosa Parks and Cesar Chavez “advocated for positive change.” Another win came a year later as the state board rejected several textbooks that some Republicans argued could promote a “radical environmental agenda” because they linked climate change to human behavior or presented what conservatives perceived to be a negative portrayal of fossil fuels. By the time the state board approved science and career-focused textbooks for use in Texas classrooms at the end of 2023, it appeared to be comfortably in sync with conservatives who had won control of local school boards across the state in recent years. But the Republican-led state education board had not gone far enough for the conservative majority on the school board for Texas’ third-largest school district. At the tail end of a school board meeting in May of last year, Natalie Blasingame, a board member in suburban Houston’s Cypress-Fairbanks Independent School District, proposed stripping more than a dozen chapters from five textbooks that had been approved by the state board and were recommended by a district committee of teachers and staffers. The chapters, Blasingame said, were inappropriate for students because they discussed “vaccines and polio,” touched on “topics of depopulation,” had “an agenda out of the United Nations” and included “a perspective that humans are bad.” In a less-publicized move, Blasingame, a former bilingual educator, proposed omitting several chapters from a textbook for aspiring educators titled “Teaching.” One of those chapters focuses on how to understand and educate diverse learners and states that it “is up to schools and teachers to help every student feel comfortable, accepted and valued,” and that “when schools view diversity as a positive force, it can enhance learning and prepare students to work effectively in a diverse society.” Blasingame did not offer additional details about her opposition to the chapters during the meeting. She didn’t have to. The school board voted 6-1 to delete them. Natalie Blasingame, a member of the Cypress-Fairbanks School Board, proposed cutting chapters from five textbooks. Credit: Danielle Villasana for ProPublica and The Texas Tribune The decision to strip chapters from books that had already won the approval of the state’s conservative board of education represents an escalation in local school boards’ efforts to influence what children in public schools are taught. Through the years, battles over textbooks have played out at the state level, where Republicans hold the majority. But local school boards that are supposed to be nonpartisan had largely avoided such fights — they weighed in on whether some books should be in libraries but rarely intervened so directly into classroom instruction. Cypress-Fairbanks now provides a model for supercharging these efforts at more fine-grained control, said Christopher Kulesza, a scholar at Rice University’s Baker Institute for Public Policy. “One of the things that would concern me is that it’s ideology pushing the educational standards rather than what’s fact,” he said. The board’s actions send a troubling message to students of color, Alissa Sundrani, a junior at Cy-Fair High School, said. “At the point that you’re saying that diversity, or making people feel safe and included, is not in the guidelines or not in the scope of what Texas wants us to be learning, then I think that’s an issue.” With about 120,000 students, nearly 80% of whom are of Hispanic, Black and Asian descent, Cy-Fair is the largest school district in Texas to be taken over by ideologically driven conservative candidates. Blasingame was among a slate of candidates who were elected through the at-large voting system that ProPublica and The Texas Tribune found has been leveraged by conservative groups seeking to influence what children are taught about race and gender. Supporters say the system, in which voters cast ballots for all candidates districtwide instead of ones who live within specific geographic boundaries, results in broader representation for students, but voting rights advocates argue that it dilutes the power of voters of color. First image: Cy-Fair’s administration building. Second image: People gather before a school board meeting. Credit: Danielle Villasana for ProPublica and The Texas Tribune Blasingame and others campaigned against the teaching of critical race theory, an advanced academic concept that discusses systemic racism. Most of the winning candidates had financial backing from Texans for Educational Freedom, a statewide PAC that sought to build a “stronghold” of school board trustees “committed to fighting Critical Race Theory and other anti-American agendas and curriculums.” The PAC helped elect at least 30 school board candidates across the state between 2021 and 2023, in part because it focused on anti-CRT sentiment, said its founder, Christopher Zook Jr. “You could literally go out and say, CRT, you know, ‘Stop critical race theory in schools,’ and everyone knew what that means, right?” he said. “The polling showed that that messaging works.” Shortly before Blasingame and two fellow conservatives won election in 2021, Texas lawmakers passed a landmark law that sought to shape how teachers approach instruction on race and racism. The law, which aimed to ban critical race theory, prohibits the “inculcation” of the notion that someone’s race makes them “inherently racist, sexist, or oppressive, whether consciously or unconsciously.” Blasingame made no mention of the law when she pushed to remove chapters about teaching a diverse student body, but pointed to it as the reason for her objection in text messages and an interview with ProPublica and the Tribune. Though Blasingame acknowledged that one of the chapters had “very good presentation on learning styles,” she said removing the whole chapter was the only option because administrators said individual lines could not be stricken from the book. The textbook referred to “cultural humility” and called for aspiring teachers to examine their “unintentional and subtle biases,” concepts that she said “go against” the law. The school board needed to act because the book “slipped through” before the state’s education agency implemented a plan to make sure materials complied with the law, Blasingame said. Blasingame recommended removing several chapters from a textbook called “Teaching.” The chapters included references to “cultural humility” and “unintentional and subtle biases,” which she believes are not permitted under state law, which specifies how topics concerning race can be taught. Credit: Document obtained and sentences enlarged by ProPublica and The Texas Tribune State Board Chair Aaron Kinsey, who is staunchly anti-CRT, declined to say if he thought the body had allowed textbooks to slip through as Blasingame suggested. Kinsey, however, said in a statement that contracts with approved publishers include requirements that their textbooks comply with all applicable laws. He did not comment on Cy-Fair removing chapters. Cy-Fair appears to have taken one of the state’s most aggressive approaches to enforcing the law, which does not address what is in textbooks but rather how educators approach teaching, said Paige Duggins-Clay, the chief legal analyst for the Intercultural Development Research Agency, a San Antonio-based nonprofit that advocates for equal educational opportunity. “It definitely feels like Cy-Fair is seeking to test the boundaries of the law,” Duggins-Clay said. “And I think in a district like Cy-Fair, because it is so diverse, that is actively hurting a lot of young people who are ultimately paying the cost and bearing the burden of these really bad policies.” The law’s vagueness has drawn criticism from conservative groups who say it allows school districts to skirt its prohibitions. Last month, Attorney General Ken Paxton filed a lawsuit against the Coppell school district in North Texas and accused administrators of illegally teaching “woke and hateful” CRT curriculum. The suit points to a secret recording of an administrator saying that the district will do what’s right for students “despite what our state standards say.” The lawsuit does not provide examples of curriculum that it alleges violates state law on how to teach race. In a letter to parents, Superintendent Brad Hunt said that the district was following state standards and would “continue to fully comply with applicable state and federal laws.” Teachers and progressive groups have also argued that the law leaves too much open to interpretation, which causes educators to self-censor and could be used to target anything that mentions race. Blasingame disputes the critique. A longtime administrator and teacher whose family emigrated from South Africa when she was 9 years old, she said she embraces diversity in schools. “Diversity is people and I love people,” she said. “That’s what I’m called to do, first as a Christian and then as an educator.” But she said she opposes teaching about systemic racism and state-sanctioned efforts to promote diversity, equity and inclusion, saying that they overemphasize the importance of skin color. “They seed hate and teach students that they are starting off behind and have unconquerable disadvantages that they will suffer all their lives,” Blasingame said. “Not only does this teach hate among people, but how could you love a country where this is true?” The assertion that teaching diversity turns students of color into victims is simply wrong, educators and students told the news organizations. Instead, they said, such discussions make them feel safe and accepted. One educator who uses the “Teaching” textbook said the board members’ decision to remove chapters related to diversity has been painful for students. “I don’t know what their true intentions are, but to my students, what they are seeing is that unless you fit into the mold and you are like them, you are not valued,” said the teacher, who did not want to be named because she feared losing her job. “There were several who said it made them not want to teach anymore because they felt so unsupported.” The board’s interpretation of the state’s law on the teaching of race has stifled important classroom discussions, said Sundrani, the student in the district. Her AP English class, a seminar about the novel “Huckleberry Finn,” steered clear of what she thinks are badly needed conversations about race, slavery and how that history impacts people today. “There were topics that we just couldn’t discuss.” Disclosure: Rice University and Rice University's Baker Institute for Public Policy have been financial supporters of The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that is funded in part by donations from members, foundations and corporate sponsors. Financial supporters play no role in the Tribune's journalism. Find a complete list of them here. Tickets are on sale now for the 15th annual Texas Tribune Festival, Texas’ breakout ideas and politics event happening Nov. 13–15 in downtown Austin. Get tickets before May 1 and save big! TribFest 2025 is presented by JPMorganChase.

"A fighter and a champion": Democratic Rep. Grijalva dies after cancer battle

The former chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus shared a lung cancer diagnosis last year

Rep. Raúl Grijalva, D-Ariz., died on Thursday morning at age 77, his office announced. Arizona’s longest-tenured member of Congress was diagnosed with lung cancer last spring, undergoing nearly a year of treatment. During his 22-year stint on Capitol Hill, Grijalva championed environmental protection, public education and reproductive freedom. The Tucson-born representative previously co-chaired the Congressional Progressive Caucus and House Committee on Natural Resources, and sat on the Committee on Education and the Workforce. He was a vocal opponent of attacks on Arizona's immigrant community. Democratic elected officials in Grijalva’s home state reacted to the news on Thursday with shock and sadness. “Congressman Grijalva was not just my colleague, but my friend. As another Latino working in public service, I can say from experience that he served as a role model to many young people across the Grand Canyon State,” Senator Ruben Gallego, D-Ariz., said in a post to social media. “I am praying for his family during this time of grief, and I hope that that they find comfort knowing his legacy is one that will stand tall for generations.” “I’m devastated to hear of the passing of my colleague Raul Grijalva. He was a fighter for Arizonans and a champion for Indigenous communities and our planet. We will all miss him dearly. My thoughts are with his family, friends, loved ones, and constituents,” Rep. Yassamin Ansari, D-Ariz., said in a statement. Grijalva’s seat will remain vacant for at least six months under Arizona state law until a primary and special election can be held.

The Pandemic’s Biggest Missed Opportunity

Treating clean indoor air as a public good would have protected Americans against all sorts of airborne diseases.

In the early evening of March 7, 2020, I was on my cellphone in an airport terminal, telling a friend that I was afraid to write an article that risked ruining my journalistic reputation. I had been speaking with the small but close-knit aerobiologist community about the possibility that the new coronavirus could travel easily from person to person through the air—not just through large droplets that reach only a short distance from an infected person or through handshakes. The scientists had stressed that the idea of airborne transmission of the new virus was still mostly theoretical, but they’d seemed pretty concerned.When my story came out the following week, it was, to my knowledge, the first article by a journalist to make the case that the virus causing COVID-19 might travel efficiently through the air, and could potentially cover many meters in a gaseous cloud emitted with a cough or a sneeze. To avoid stoking undue worry, I had argued against calling the virus “airborne” in the headline, which ran as “They Say Coronavirus Isn’t Airborne—But It’s Definitely Borne by Air.” That idea was not immediately accepted: Two weeks later, the World Health Organization tweeted, “FACT: #COVID19 is NOT airborne.” As the pandemic unfolded, though, it became clear that the coronavirus did indeed spread through airborne transmission—even if the WHO took more than a year and a half to officially describe the coronavirus as a long-range airborne pathogen.By then, amid the loud debate over mask mandates, vaccine boosters, and individuals’ responsibility for the health of others, a parallel debate had emerged over ventilation. Wearing an N95 or receiving a third COVID shot were ultimately individual choices, but breathing safer air in indoor spaces required buy-in from bigger players such as education departments and transit agencies. Some advocates held up clean air as a kind of public good—one worth investing in for shared safety. If it had succeeded, this way of thinking would have represented one of the most lasting paths for governments to decrease people’s risks from COVID and from airborne diseases more generally.In the United States, the federal government regulates the quality of air outdoors, but it has relatively little oversight of indoor air. State and local jurisdictions pick up some of the slack, but this creates a patchwork of rules about indoor air. Local investment in better air-quality infrastructure varies widely too. For example, a 2022 survey of COVID-ventilation measures in U.S. public-school districts found that only about a quarter of them used or planned to use HEPA filters, which have a dense mesh for trapping particles, for indoor air. An even smaller fraction—about 8 percent—had installed air-cleansing systems that incorporated ultraviolet light, which can kill germs.For decades, experts have pushed the idea that the government should pay more attention to the quality of indoor air. In his new book, Air-Borne: The Hidden History of the Life We Breathe, the journalist Carl Zimmer shows the long arc of this argument. He notes that Richard Riley, a giant in the field of aerobiology who helped show that tuberculosis can be airborne, believed that individuals shouldn’t have to ensure that the air they breathe is clean. Just as the government regulates the safety of the water that flows into indoor pipes, it should oversee the safety of air in indoor public spaces.More than half a century before the coronavirus pandemic, Riley positioned this idea as an alternative to requirements for widespread masking, which, he said, call for “a kind of benevolent despotism,” Zimmer reports. If cleaner air was the one of the best ways to reduce the societal burden of disease, then the two best ways to achieve it were to push people to wear masks in any public space or to install better ventilation. The latter approach—purifying the air—would mean that “the individual would be relieved of direct responsibility,” Riley reasoned in a 1961 book he co-authored: “This is preventive medicine at its best, but it can only be bought at the price of civic responsibility and vigilance.”Medical breakthroughs in the years that followed may have deflated enthusiasm for this idea. Zimmer writes that the huge advances in vaccines during the 1960s made the world less interested in the details of airborne-disease transmission. Thanks to new vaccines, doctors had a way to prevent measles, the WHO launched a campaign to eradicate smallpox, and polio seemed on its way out. On top of that, researchers had come up with an arsenal of lifesaving antibiotics and antivirals. How viruses reached us mattered less when our defenses against them were so strong.In the first year or so of the coronavirus pandemic, though, one of the only defenses against COVID was avoiding it. And as a debate raged over how well the virus spread in air, the science of aerobiology was thrust into the spotlight. Some members of the public started fighting for good ventilation. A grassroots effort emerged to put homemade air purifiers and portable HEPA filters in public places. Teachers opened classroom windows when they learned that their schools lacked proper ventilation, travelers started carrying carbon-monoxide monitors to gauge the air quality aboard planes, and restaurants began offering outdoor dining after diagrams were published showing how easily one person eating inside can expose those seated nearby to the virus.The federal government did take some small steps toward encouraging better ventilation. In mid-2023, the CDC put out new recommendations urging five air changes an hour (essentially replacing all of the air within a room) in all buildings. But it was a recommendation, not a requirement, and local governments and owners of public buildings have been slow to take on the burden of installing or overhauling their ventilation systems. Part of this was surely because of the daunting price tag: In 2020, the Government Accountability Office estimated that approximately 36,000 school buildings had substandard systems for heating, ventilation, and cooling; the estimated cost for upgrading the systems and ensuring safe air quality in all of the country’s schools, some experts calculated, would be about $72 billion. Portable HEPA filters, meanwhile, can be noisy and require space, making them less-than-ideal long-term solutions.For the most part, momentum for better indoor air quality has dissipated, just as interest in it faded in the 1960s. Five years after COVID-19 precipitated lockdowns in the U.S., the rate of hospitalizations and mortality from the disease are a fraction of what they once were, and public discussion about ventilation has waned. Truly improving indoor air quality on a societal scale would be a long-term investment (and one that the Trump administration seems very unlikely to take on, given that it is slashing other environmental-safety protections). But better ventilation would also limit the cost of diseases other than COVID. Tuberculosis is airborne, and measles is frighteningly good at spreading this way. There is also evidence for airborne dissemination of a range of common pathogens such as influenza, which in the U.S. led to an estimated 28,000 deaths in the 2023–24 flu season. The same holds true for RSV, or respiratory syncytial virus, which each year causes 58,000 to 80,000 hospitalizations of children under age 5 in the United States, and kills as many as 300 of them. Virologists are also now asking whether bird flu could evolve to efficiently transmit through air, too.For those of us still concerned about airborne diseases, it feels as though little has changed. We’re right where we were at the start of the pandemic. I remember that moment in the airport and how I’d later worried about stoking panic in part because, during my flight, I was the only person wearing an N95—one that I had purchased months ago to wear in the dusty crawl space beneath my home. On the plane, I felt like a weirdo. These days, I am, once again, almost always the lone masker when I take public transportation. Sometimes I feel ridiculous. But just the other week, while I was seated on the metro, a woman coughed on my head. At that moment, I was glad to have a mask on. But I would have been even more relieved if the enclosed space of the metro car had been designed to cleanse the air of whatever she might have released and keep it from reaching me.

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