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Keynote: The Precautionary Principle vs.
Regulation
9th Annual Conference on Women s Health and the
Environment
Are We Living in a Chemical Stew?
October 24, 2005*
Good morning. What an honor to be here. I know that whenever a
speaker is flown across state lines and crowds are assembled, a lot of work has to go on
behind the scenes to make that happen. And this also gives me a chance to thank Teresa Heinz
for her amazing leadership on the issues that are the nearest and dearest to my heart, and are
important to all of our children. Thank you so much.
Exactly one month ago today, my two children discovered a bat in
their bedroom. It was coppery brown in color, with black ears and wings, and was about
as long as my hand is wide. By the time I arrived on the scene, it was curled up in the heating
register, looking pretty scared. I guessed correctly, as it turned out that it was a big brown bat,
also known as a house bat. In upstate New York, about 2 percent of house bats are infected
with rabies. I knew that if I failed to capture the bat, my son and daughter would be compelled to have
rabies vaccinations, in accordance with guidelines promulgated by the Centers for
Disease Control. Bats have razorsharp teeth. Their bites, so the CDC alleges, can sometimes be
undetectable, and the reports that children provide about their encounters with bats are
notoriously untrustworthy. And although the odds are 98 percent that any given bat is rabies free, rabies is
a disease with 100 percent fatality rate. So I was determined to catch the bat and spare my children
a notoriously painful sequence of shots. Now, I have a Ph.D. in wildlife biology so I thought I
was up for the task. And by 10 p.m., the bat was indeed inside a plastic tub, and the tub was inside
my freezer. The next morning, I dropped its stiff, cold body off at the county health department
for testing. And 24 hours later, I
got a call from the head of the Tompkins County Rabies
Prevention Program. The bat, in fact, was rabid.
So I spent the rest of that afternoon conducting interviews. My
first call was to the head of the American Bat Association, a man who happens to be a fan of
one of my books, so he called me back right away. I wanted to ask him about this whole notion
of undetected bat bites: reality or myth? Tom said that most mammologists
consider it a myth, and a dangerous one at that, because it contributes to the bad image that bats have in the
public imagination as vicious, sneaky, disease-carrying vermin. The big brown bat in particular, he
went on to say, is especially unlikely to leave a bite that s undetectable. They're not called big for
no reason. That conversation was pretty reassuring.
Next, I interviewed my daughter. Faith said that she and her
brother never actually even saw the bat. They heard it chirping inside the heating register
and then came to get me. Now I was feeling more reassured. Maybe I didn't need to put them
through the shots after all.
Next, I interviewed my son. His story was nearly identical to
his sister's, including the part about how they came to get me as soon as they heard the
chirping. But just as I was about to heave a sigh of relief, Elijah added another sentence to his
story: And then, Mama, the bat flew around the room and landed on my hand. I waited a few hours. I
interviewed him again. Same story. But this time he added another sentence to the end: And
then, Mama, the bat flew around the room and landed on my hand. And it was carrying a tiny gun. My son just turned four. It was then I understood why the CDC considers the bat
reports of young children to be unreliable.
But I started wondering if the flying around the room part of
the story might be true. Could my older child have left out that part because she feared
she would have to have shots if she admitted to contact with the bat? I was pretty sure that she
wouldn't do that. Could I really account for the origin of each and every scratch and scrape on
my kids hands and arms? I was actually reasonably sure that I could. But in the process of
doing all this deductive logic, I kept bumping up against two twin pillars of certainty: the 100
percent fatality rate of rabies, a viral disease that is completely irreversible once symptoms begin; and
the 100 percent protection offered by the vaccine. So in spite of the fact that I
intellectually sided with the mammologist on the issue of undetected bat bites, and intuitively sided with my
7-year-old and her narration of the evening s events, I decided to act in accordance with the
precautionary protocol advocated by the Centers for Disease Control. So last Friday, my kids and I
finished a month-long series of rabies shots.
Let me now contrast that recent interaction with my local public
health department with another. Ten years ago I left Boston, where I had just finished
a year-long fellowship at Harvard- Radcliffe, to move into my sister s basement, back in my old
home town in central Illinois, where I had grown up. It was here, as a 20-year-old, where I had been
diagnosed with bladder cancer, a disease that I now know had longstanding connections to toxic
chemical exposures, particularly waterborne contaminants. So I was returning home as an
environmental detective in search of my own ecological roots. I did uncover the presence of known and
suspected bladder carcinogens in my home town s public drinking water wells. I also found out a
few things about the pesticide plant near my high school, and what went on at the local
landfill near the house where I grew up.
I detailed my research in a book I went on to write, called
Living Downstream, out of which I spoke here at this very conference seven years ago. Some of you
might remember that. I also learned about an alleged cancer cluster in my home town
community. Apparently, I was not the first resident to wonder if we had a problem here.
The county health department had, however, officially determined that cancer rates in these
particular neighborhoods were not out of the ordinary. After much foot-dragging reluctance, they had
finally buckled to public pressure and conducted a study. But when I looked at the data on which that
conclusion was based, I found out that the county had missed five cancer deaths in one
neighborhood alone, and that the statistical analysis was highly unusual. When Dick Clapp, a cancer
epidemiologist right here at Boston University, and I re-analyzed the data, we came to a very
different conclusion. The county health department did not respond to my inquiries about these
discrepancies. They never returned my
calls. The whole episode reminded me of what my 100-year-old
grandmother used to say: You can't find what you don't look for.
So what's the difference here? On the one hand, we have a county
health department that s vigorously precautionary about an infectious disease; and
on the other, we have one that embraces the toxicological version of Don t ask, don't tell. The
difference, biologically speaking, is really not a matter of scientific uncertainty. Yes,
there s definite proof that rabies virus causes an incurable form of brain encephalitis. But there
s almost as much proof that the dry-cleaning solvent perchlorethylene causes bladder cancer. In
fact, there's a brand new report, published right here by U. Mass. Lowell, that highlights that
very causal connection. It's called Environmental and Occupational Causes of Cancer, and I recommend
it to you highly.
Remember too, there's still plenty of uncertainty surrounding
rabies. The presumption that all cases of human rabies that occur in the absence of obvious
animal bites should be attributed to an undetected bat bite is a pretty controversial presumption.
So rather, I would argue, the difference is one of disease
specificity. Rabies is a specific disease. It s caused by one agent. Cancer or asthma or autism or
birth defects or infertility or a learning disability, these are non-specific problems. They are
caused by more than one factor, and the intensity and progression of these disorders is undoubtedly
aided and abetted by many more.
It s still true that perchlorethylene causes bladder cancer, and
the more perchlorethylene that is in the environment, the higher the rate the bladder cancer
incidence grows. But the non-specificity of the disease means we can't put names to the victims. If I
choose to forego a rabies vaccination and drop dead one month later, after capturing a rabid bat in my
house, we all know what killed me. But if I die of a bladder cancer recurrence, we truthfully
don't know what killed me bladder carcinogens in my drinking water wells, or not.
But the non-specific nature of many human diseases with
environmental links does not leave us helpless in the face of a rising toxic tide. It just
means we require a different approach to the problem. And that approach is called the precautionary
principle. But before I describe it further, let me first detail for you a brief history of our
current regulatory system.
About 500 years ago, a medieval physician named Paracelsus
coined the phrase the dose makes the poison. His famous pronouncement was based on
observations of his syphilis patients, whom he was trying to cure with mercury, which turns out not to
be a terribly curative treatment. But the doctor did correctly notice that if you give patients
too high of a dose, it killed them outright. Thus, The dose makes the poison.
This idea went on to become a paradigm of modern toxicology, and
it still undergirds our entire regulatory system for toxic chemicals. So that when we
discover through careful study that a chemical substance is inherently toxic, rather than banning it
outright, which we've only done a handful of times, typically we go to work determining so-called
safe threshold levels for exposure.
These are sometimes called tolerance levels or maximum
contaminant limits. And then we allow these chemicals to be produced, used, and disposed of, all the
while policing the results. So we set up an elaborate monitoring system that measures levels of toxic
chemicals in everything from applesauce to lake sediment bottoms. Methyl mercury is allowed
in canned tuna fish at so many parts per million, the weed killer atrazine is allowed in tap
water at so many parts per billion, and so on. Speaking very broadly, our toxic monitoring system is
supposed to ensure that the concentration of each and every toxic chemical does not exceed
its threshold level, above which risks to human health are considered to be more than negligible.
But the environmental science of the past couple of decades is
really mounting an important challenge to that old regulatory model based on risk
assessment. It turns out that it's far more than dose alone that makes the poison. To name a couple of
others, it s the mixture of chemicals that also makes the poison. It's the timing of
exposure that also makes the poison. And it's the underlying genetic susceptibility of the exposed person
that also makes the poison. And I know this is something that Lovell Jones will talk more about to
you later this morning, so I'll leave that topic to him, but only to say that I, as a
20-year-old diagnosed with bladder cancer, was a full 50 years younger than the average 70-year-old who's
diagnosed with bladder cancer.
Almost certainly, I have inherited a genetic susceptibility,
known as being a slow acetylator, meaning that my liver has enzymes that acetylate very slowly
bladder carcinogens, allowing them
to remain in my bladder for a much longer period of time than
most people's. That means I require more protection from environmental carcinogens than
people who are fast acetylators raising important human rights questions, I believe. Do we set
our environmental standards for toxic chemicals to only protect the genetically most fit? Or do
we attempt to protect all of us, no matter what genetic susceptibilities we've inherited?
Now let's examine the other two a little more closely. The topic
of chemical mixtures, of course, is the title of our conference today. Are We Living in a
Chemical Stew? And the answer of course is an unequivocal yes. There's no controversy here in
the scientific community about that. If you yourself still have doubts about it, consider
consulting the website www.scorecard.org. Scorecard. This gives you access to the
inventory of toxic chemical releases for your hometown zip code. Scorecard.org. Examining the list of
toxic chemicals in your own home community, if nothing else, is an interesting spiritual
exercise.
In fact, we could even reverse the subject and object of the
conference title question. The answer would still be yes. Is a Chemical Stew Living Inside Us?
We know our bodies contain hundreds of toxic chemicals. According to the Centers for
Disease Control, the body of any one of us Americans contains about 13 different pesticides at any
given moment. As you heard from
Teresa Heinz, we now know that umbilical cord blood contains
stain removers, plasticizers, and flame retardants. We know the urine of schoolchildren runs with
wood preservatives and lawn chemicals. We've found rocket fuel in breast milk. We've found
the products of garbage incineration in amniotic fluid. If we live in a city, our
exhaled breath contains dry-cleaning fluids and gasoline vapors. If we grew up in an old house, our skeleton
contains lead. If we eat fish, our hair contains mercury. We are literally inscribed by a lifetime
of chemical exposures. Our toxic body burdens are our environmental autobiography.
And yet our current regulatory system mostly ignores that sum
total of our accumulative exposures, and mostly focuses on setting limits for individual
chemicals, as if we were all experiencing only single chemical exposures at a time. Not only
can multiple chemical exposures create additive effects; they can sometimes create synergistic
ones. This seems particularly true of
pesticides, where very low exposures to two different farm
chemicals can cause birth defects and developmental problems in frogs and fish, even when exposures to
either one chemical in isolation seems to cause no such problems. And in some cases, the chemical
exposures need not even be synchronous in order to interact. Laboratory rats exposed to one
breast carcinogen in utero, while their mothers were pregnant with them, and then to a second
breast carcinogen as an adult, went on to develop breast cancer; whereas rats exposed only when
fetuses, or only when adults, did not develop the disease.
Timing also makes the poison, as we have said. All of us in this
room have something called the blood-brain barrier. It s working pretty well right
now to keep any neurological poison that might be cycling around in your bloodstream let s say, a
trace amount of insecticide from the breakfast you consume this morning it keeps it from entering
the gray matter of your brain, where it could do some real damage. But none of us developed
that blood-brain barrier until we were 6 months old. So anyone younger than 6 months, infants, are
missing an entire suit of armor that the rest of us have to protect our brains. Thus infants are
exquisitely vulnerable to very tiny, vanishingly small amounts of neurological poisons, far
disproportionate to dose alone. So infancy is a time of extreme vulnerability, where safe threshold levels
generated for adults may not apply.
And I know you'll be hearing more about this, this morning, from
Dr. Lynn Goldman. And there are other windows of vulnerability we all pass through
in our lifetimes, as well.
Adolescence is another one. For us women, this is a time when
our breast buds are just forming. The breast is undergoing rapid mitotic cell division, and is
thought to be exquisitely sensitive to breast carcinogens at this point. And you'll be hearing later
this morning from Michele Marcus about the time of puberty and the vulnerabilities associated
with that.
Old age is another window of vulnerability. There s much
research interest now in understanding environmental links, for example, to late life
dementing illnesses such as Parkinson's and Alzheimer's.
I would argue that there are human rights implications in all
this. Our current regulatory system does not offer us equal protection under the law. Indeed
it discriminates based on age,
because we all pass through these windows of vulnerability, the
very young, teenagers, and our senior citizens, because of their physiological and anatomical
differences, are not offered adequate protection.
Now, in contrast to a risk assessment based regulatory approach
that ignores these human rights issues, and approaches the question of toxic chemicals
with this simple-minded question, What is the maximum amount of toxic pollution that we can
tolerate, the precautionary principle is an entirely different frame of human decision making. In
contrast, it asks: What can we do to prevent harm? The precautionary principle has its origins in
Germany, when researchers felt ethically compelled to try and halt the ongoing death of its
forests from acid rain before all the details about the role of individual air pollutants had been
worked out. This was in the 1970's.
The concern was that if nothing were done until scientific
certainty was attained, a pipeline of unstoppable consequences would have been constructed, that would
have resulted in the mass death and extinction of the forests and the communities they
supported.
This idea, that we should act to forestall harm, has since
spread to the United States. And in 1998, a lot of researchers and activists gathered in
Wisconsin at a remarkable gathering called the Wingspread Conference, where we attempted to actually define
the precautionary principle as a tool to guide policy making. I think my own presence at that
conference will be something at the end of my life I'll be able to tell my children, I was part
of making that history. In fact, I spent a lot of that weekend in the bathroom, throwing up, because I
was pregnant with one of my children at the time and was highly nauseous. But I was there.
And here's the definition that we came up with, that is now in wide use: When an activity raises
threats of harm to human health or the environment, precautionary measures should be taken, even if
some cause-and-effect relationships are not fully established scientifically.
Here in Massachusetts, you are fortunate to have the Toxics Use
Reduction Institute at the University of Massachusetts in Lowell, together with the
Alliance for a Healthy Tomorrow, an amazing collaboration of citizens groups and scientists who are
essentially spearheading not only the conceptual basis for the precautionary principle but its
practical applications. So much of the
work on how the precautionary principle can really be used as a
vigorous tool for human decision making is done right here in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
I'll just say a couple more things about the precautionary
principle, and then I'm going to close by reading a couple paragraphs from my last book.
Precautionary principle has four basic elements. The first one
is that people have a duty to respond to early warnings; that action must be taken before harm
occurs. Now, this doesn't mean that the precautionary principle is not science-based. It just
means that the trigger for action is moved up. The science goes on, but we get people out of harm's
way in the meantime. Irving Selikoff was an asbestos researcher who dutifully published all
kinds of work bout the dangers of asbestos as it was affecting workers in Libby, Montana, the site
of a big asbestos mine. On his deathbed, he expressed his regret that he didn't stop publishing
and start doing activism earlier.
He said this: I could have saved a lot of those boys instead of
waiting. I don't want to say that at the end of my life. And that's one of the reasons the
precautionary principle, I think, offers us so much hope.
A second element of the precautionary principle is that the
burden of proof is shifted off of our shoulders, the public, who under the current system has to
prove harm, and onto the shoulders or the proponents of whatever the activity is, who under the
precautionary principle must demonstrate safety. This is a cornerstone of the new toxics
policy of the European Union, the so-called REACH proposal. And as it begins to alter the way we look at the
safety of chemicals, and as the European Union grows as a marketplace, it may profoundly
alter the global marketing of different chemicals as well. In fact, it s already borne fruit.
In Europe, cosmetics companies have been compelled to reformulate cosmetics, eliminating chemicals
known to cause cancer and birth defects. And here in the US, a group of nonprofit organizations
have joined together to form the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics, to ask for something similar to go
on here. In California, I'm pleased to report, the Safe Cosmetics Act has been passed and on
October 7 was signed into law by Governor Schwartzenegger. This will compel cosmetic
manufacturers in California to disclose any ingredient that causes cancer or birth defects. And I think,
as goes California, so goes the nation. So we need to look at this and urge similar reforms in
all of our states.
A third element of the precautionary principle is that it
requires that we explore alternatives to whatever the toxic substances or the toxic activity is. And
when the precautionary principle was applied this way in Canada, it had amazing results. The
Canadians, in 70 different municipalities, have decided to ban the cosmetic use of
pesticides. So you cannot any longer use pesticides on lawns or gardens simply to improve their
appearance. Because when the Canadians looked at the data linking lawn chemicals with pediatric cancers
in children, although there wasn't definitive proof, there were troubling signs of harm. So they
immediately sought out an alternative to using lawn chemicals to control pests and weeds,
and have adopted organic pest control alternatives, which are now the norm. So if you feel
like you can t do that, then you have to make your case that you have to use a toxic chemical before
some kind of board of commissioners. So the default plan is that you don't use the
toxic, you use the nontoxic alternative, and you only turn to the toxic way of doing things
if there's no other way to get the job done. So that's an example of precaution in action in Canada.
Fourth, the precautionary principle requires democratic
participation. The idea is to increase public participation in decision making. And here we've
seen great strides in the city of San Francisco, which has adopted the precautionary principle for
all of its purchasing decisions.
And in so doing, the public has been brought into the process,
and affected communities are sitting down at the table and making those decisions. So precautionary
principle actually improves the whole democratic process.
For those of you who are interested in learning more about the
practical nature of precaution, how it can be deployed in courtrooms, in schools, in
hospitals, and in policy chambers, I would refer you to a wonderful new book, published again right
here in Boston by MIT Press, called
Precautionary
Tools for Reshaping Environmental Policy, by Nancy Myers and Carolyn Raffensperger. There's also a wonderful website you can go to,
to take a look at how precaution is
changing human decision making around the environment. And that
is ProtectingOurHealth.org.
ProtectingOurHealth.org.
Now, what I like best about the precautionary principle is its
directive that we have an obligation to protect those who can t protect themselves,
namely, infants and children. Even as we continue to build our own scientific case for action, we keep
children out of harm s way, first and foremost. And in that sense, the precautionary principle
combines the conservatism of science, which sets the bar for proof very high, with the conservatism of
being a parent, which strives to keep our children out of harm s way whenever a situation seems
remotely dangerous. I wish I could inoculate my children against the effects of environmental
contamination in the same way I can inoculate them against the ravages of rabies. But since we
can t, we have the precautionary principle.
Now I want to close by reading a couple paragraphs from Chapter
4 of Having Faith, a book named after my now 7-year-old daughter Faith. And I'll
leave it to you to figure out why a cancer survivor might name a child Faith. This scene takes place
right here in Boston at Beth Israel Hospital. That's the hospital where I received, when I
lived here, all my follow-up cancer care. And when I became pregnant, I actually lay down on the
same ultrasound table where I was once scanned for signs of tumor, to receive my very first
prenatal ultrasound and my amniocentesis. So I had to remind myself, if they see signs of
growth this time, it's a good thing and not a bad thing. Most of you know me know, whenever I talk
about data and policy, I always feel that I need to remind myself that it s all about saving
lives and the sacredness of each and every life; that behind every data point is a human being. So
here then is the scene immediately after my amniocentesis. I guess I should explain that briefly.
An amniocentesis occurs when about 30 cc (about one shot glassful of amniotic fluid) is
withdrawn from the belly of a pregnant woman and then analyzed. And I had a chance to hold my own
amniotic fluid in my hand. And this is that scene.
The needle is out. We're done. The mood is still upbeat. The
obstetrician hands the pair of vials to the technician, who holds them up to
the light like glasses
of fine wine. Nice color, she says. Do you want to hold them?
And she passes the vials, hot as blood, into my hands. The fluid inside
is pale gold. It seems to glow. It's like liquid amber, I sputter. Well, it's
like an amber jewel. It occurs to me that amniotic fluid is the
loveliest substance I have ever seen. The obstetrician touches my arm. That's baby pee, she
says, smiling. We like it yellow. It's a sign of good kidney functioning. I
look at the vials again. Oh yeah, right, I nod. The obstetrician reminds me to
drink plenty of water today. Drink plenty of water. Before it is baby pee, amniotic fluid is water. I drink water
and it becomes blood plasma, which suffuses through the amniotic sac and
surrounds the baby, who also drinks it. And what is it before that? Before it is
drinking water, amniotic fluid is the creeks and rivers that fill reservoirs. It is the
underground water that fills wells. And before it is creeks and rivers and groundwater,
amniotic fluid is rain. When I hold in my hands a tube of my own amniotic fluid, I
am holding a tube full of raindrops. Amniotic fluid is the juice of oranges I
had for breakfast, and the milk I poured over my cereal, and the honey I stirred
into my tea. It is inside the green cells of spinach leaves and the damp flesh of
apples. It is the yolk of an egg. When I look at amniotic fluid, I am looking at rain
falling on orange groves. I am looking at melon fields, potatoes in wet earth,
frost on pasture grasses. The blood of cows and chickens is in this tube. The
nectar gathered by bees and hummingbirds is in this tube. Whatever is inside
hummingbird eggs is also inside my womb. Whatever is in the world s water is here in
my hands.
Thank you.
*Portions
of the transcript were edited or shortened for readability.
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