A World Contaminated: On PFAS, PCBs and the Inheritance of Pollution
Over the last century, industrial capitalism has left behind man-made substances that endure in the environment, often with harmful impacts. Plastics, radioactive waste and industrial chemicals like PFAS and PCBs have become embedded in the systems that sustain life, accumulating in rivers and soils, in wildlife and in human bodies. These materials move slowly, persistently and invisibly, and their effects on human and ecological health will continue long after the factories and companies that produced them are gone. From their production to their persistence, these chemicals raise fundamental questions of environmental justice: who benefits from their use, who bears their risks, and whose lives are shaped by decisions made without their consent.
PFAS, or per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, are a class of nearly 15,000 man-made chemicals first developed in the 1940s. They were designed to resist heat, oil and water, properties that made them useful across thousands of consumer and industrial applications, from nonstick cookware and firefighting foam to waterproof clothing and food packaging. Early commercial production of PFAS was dominated by major chemical manufacturers such as DuPont (which developed polytetrafluoroethylene, or Teflon) and 3M (which developed PFAS for products like Scotchgard), and by the mid-20th century these compounds were being incorporated into a rapidly expanding range of products worldwide. The same chemical bonds that made PFAS so effective also made them extraordinarily stable. They do not break down or biodegrade, a quality that earned them the name “forever chemicals.”
From their production to their persistence, these chemicals raise fundamental questions of environmental justice: who benefits from their use, who bears their risks, and whose lives are shaped by decisions made without their consent.
These chemicals long outlive their original applications, dispersing widely throughout the environment over time. PFAS are now found in water, air, soil and plants, and in animal and human bloodstreams. Human health studies have linked PFAS exposure to reproductive and developmental harm, immune system dysfunction, hormonal disruption and increased risk of certain cancers. According to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, there is no safe level of PFAS for humans—yet most people (an estimated 98% in the United States) are now thought to carry PFAS in their blood.
In New York State, the scale of this exposure has become increasingly widespread. An estimated 189 public drinking water systems, serving approximately 1.3 million people, have detected PFAS at levels ranging from 4 to 10 parts per trillion, at or above the EPA’s current federal limit of 4 ppt in drinking water.
In Newburgh, New York, for example, PFAS contamination entered the city’s main drinking water reservoir through runoff from firefighting foam used at Stewart Air National Guard Base into Washington Lake, the city’s primary source of drinking water. Between the early 1990s and 2016, residents drank PFAS-contaminated tap water before the extent of the contamination became public. A state health study conducted in 2016 and 2017 found PFAS levels in the blood of Newburgh residents to be nearly four times the national average.
According to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, there is no safe level of PFAS for humans—yet most people (an estimated 98% in the United States) are now thought to carry PFAS in their blood.
The impacts were not evenly distributed, falling most heavily on the Newburgh community with limited power to prevent or respond to the harm. What might otherwise be described as an environmental issue became, in practice, a long-term public health crisis rooted in environmental injustice.
PCBs, or polychlorinated biphenyls, follow a similar trajectory. First manufactured in the 1930s and widely used in electrical equipment and building materials, PCBs were banned in the United States in the late 1970s after overwhelming evidence of their toxicity emerged. Yet banning production did not eliminate their presence. PCBs continue to circulate through water, soil and air, accumulating in fish, animals and humans and contributing to cancer, neurological damage and endocrine disruption. Like PFAS, they remain part of the living environment decades after their use was banned.
Forever chemicals are only one manifestation of a larger problem: contamination that lingers for decades or longer. Plastics fragment into microplastics that now circulate through oceans, soils and human organs. Lead from decades of industrial use and leaded fuels remains embedded in soils, water systems and housing stock around the world. Radioactive isotopes from nuclear weapons testing remain detectable across the planet. In each case, exposure is widespread and ongoing, shaping lives and ecosystems long after the decisions that caused it were made.
In many parts of the United States, communities live with the consequences of these chemical legacies every day. The Hudson River remains one of the most well-known examples of industrial contamination, following more than thirty years of PCB discharges by General Electric (GE). Beginning in 1947, GE released an estimated 1.3 million pounds of PCBs into the river from its plants in Fort Edward and Hudson Falls. Even after direct dumping stopped, PCBs continued to enter the river through runoff from the Hudson Falls site. In 1984, a 200-mile stretch of the Hudson was designated one of the country’s largest Superfund sites—contaminated locations in the U.S. requiring long-term cleanup of hazardous waste, managed by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). Between 2009 and 2015, GE was ordered to remove roughly 2.7 million cubic yards of PCB-contaminated sediment from the river. Despite this, PCB levels remain high enough that fishing advisories still warn against consuming fish from large portions of the river. Advocacy groups, including Riverkeeper, Hudson River Sloop Clearwater and Friends of a Clean Hudson, continue to push for remediation and restoration.
New Jersey has been on the frontlines of efforts to hold polluters accountable. In August 2025, the state reached a record $875 million settlement with DuPont, Chemours and Corteva over PFAS contamination, following earlier settlements with Solvay, Arkema and 3M. These agreements require the cleanup of contaminated sites and establish funds for remediation and enforcement. They reflect a growing willingness to pursue accountability, while also underscoring its limits. Financial settlements cannot reverse exposure or remove chemicals that will remain in soils and waterways for decades to come.
The petrochemical industry continues to undermine resistance at every level, investing heavily in delay, denial and obstruction. Yet the very emergence of these varied responses suggests that more people are refusing to accept contamination as inevitable.
Nationally, PFAS contamination has become increasingly apparent. 45% of all U.S. tap water, from both public water supplies and private wells, is estimated to contain PFAS, and farmers in states such as Maine and Texas have discovered their soils and livestock contaminated through sewage sludge long promoted as fertilizer. Communities are left managing the consequences of decisions made far beyond their control, often without pathways to restitution or repair.
Regulatory responses have been slow and uneven, reflecting deeper political and economic forces at play. The chemical and plastics industries have historically exercised significant influence over regulatory processes, funding research, lobbying policymakers and shaping public narratives around innovation, convenience and economic growth. Substances like PFAS were widely adopted because they enabled forms of modern life that came to be associated with progress—nonstick surfaces, waterproof materials, disposable packaging—even as their long-term harms were obscured or downplayed. When regulation finally followed, it did so within a political landscape already shaped by decades of industry influence and institutional hesitation.
While the EPA set the first national drinking water standards for six PFAS chemicals under the Biden administration, the timing and scope of these protections reflected decades of regulatory delay, arriving only after contamination was already widespread. In 2025, the Trump administration rolled back limits on four of the six chemicals and delayed compliance deadlines for utilities, following pressure from the chemical industry. The resulting back-and-forth underscores how vulnerable such safeguards remain to shifting political priorities and corporate influence.
How do we reckon with damage that is permanent? With exposure imposed on ordinary people without consent? And with a future shaped by those who will never bear the consequences of their decisions?
Responses are emerging on multiple levels. Internationally, governments are negotiating a global plastics treaty aimed at reducing plastic production and addressing chemical pollution across supply chains. Nationally, states and countries are setting stricter drinking water standards, pursuing litigation against polluters and restricting the use of PFAS in consumer products. Locally, communities are organizing for clean water, monitoring contamination and demanding accountability from both corporations and regulators. At the same time, the petrochemical industry continues to undermine these forms of resistance at every level, investing heavily in delay, denial, and obstruction. Yet the very emergence of these varied responses suggests that more people are refusing to accept contamination as inevitable.
None of these efforts can undo past exposure, but they can shape what comes next. Reckoning with inherited pollution requires remediation and regulations that seek to restructure the systems that normalized harm in the first place. Future decisions about risk, convenience and progress must be made with justice, transparency and collective responsibility at their core.
