Don’t talk – listen. Why communities affected by forever chemicals in water must be heard
97s/Unsplash, CC BY-NC-NDUntil recently, Australia’s efforts to tackle “forever chemical” pollution focused on highly polluted firefighting and defence sites. But last year, elevated levels of some of these chemicals were detected in the untreated water supply for the Blue Mountains in New South Wales. Residents were understandably concerned. Community groups threatened to launch a class action, while residents sought to have their blood tested. NSW Water Minister Rose Jackson moved to reassure residents their “water is safe”, and a Sydney Morning Herald editorial said the state government was blind to the risks. Earlier this year, Australia banned three of these chemicals – PFOA, PFOS and PFHxS. PFOA is considered carcinogenic by the International Agency for Research on Cancer, while PFOS is considered possibly carcinogenic. But the environmental and health effects of forever chemical exposure remain a matter of debate, as the risk depends on concentration. In November, a Senate inquiry made dozens of recommendations to better regulate these chemicals. All too often, authorities respond to legitimate community concerns by pointing to the low level of risk. But as these chemicals build up in drinking water, wastewater and farming soils, this trust-the-experts approach isn’t going to work. Risks and concentration levels Forever chemicals are properly known as PFAS (per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances). They’re used in products such as carpets, clothes, food packaging and paper, as well as firefighting foams, pesticides and stain repellents. They don’t break down easily, and steadily accumulate in soil, surface water and groundwater. Around 15,000 PFAS chemicals are now ubiquitous in the environment. In highly contaminated sites such as firefighter training facilities or defence bases, the risk is clearer and responses can target specific facilities and geographic locations. But the question of what to do becomes much harder when forever chemicals become widely distributed in drinking water and wastewater systems, generally at levels well below thresholds considered dangerous according to Australian standards. In response to the Blue Mountains issue, Water NSW stopped two dams from supplying water as a precautionary measure. Sydney Water installed a new PFAS water treatment system. Community backlash Australian authorities began responding to PFAS contamination a decade ago. Since then, policymakers have restricted the import and manufacture of certain forever chemicals, banned some uses of PFAS-containing firefighting foams, developed a national plan to manage PFAS chemicals, officially set the levels of PFAS a person could safely consume in a day and developed guidelines for drinking water. Even with such actions, authorities have been subject to sustained public criticism from community groups and the media over the speed, adequacy and level of protections compared to the more restrictive thresholds set by the United States and European Union. At Williamtown in NSW, authorities were aware of the issue for three years before revealing it. Community groups lost faith in official responses, turning to external experts before ultimately launching a class action against the Department of Defence. Some compensation flowed from this based on financial losses. But researchers have found compensation does little to actually address residents’ health and environment concerns. Independent reviews have recommended official responses to PFAS should be more transparent. But little has changed. The same distrust is emerging in the Blue Mountains, while state and federal inquiries have raised questions over how PFAS risks are communicated and falling public trust in government agencies. Better communication misses the point Community backlash against issues such as PFAS contamination can often be framed as non-experts misunderstanding the science. Authorities often think the answer is to communicate better and more clearly to fix the deficit. For instance, the national PFAS policy describes communication as essential: if people affected by PFAS contamination cannot understand what governments are saying, they are more likely to view the information with scepticism or as a deliberate attempt to disguise the facts. The risk here is that focusing on better official communication is still about speaking, rather than listening. The community can become a noisy stakeholder to be managed rather than an active collaborator. But people in these communities are legitimately worried. They want to speak and be heard as equal partners. Is there a better way? PFAS contamination isn’t just a technological or legal issue. It’s also a social issue – it affects communities. When facing a pollution problem, affected communities often organise themselves and advocate for better outcomes. Community groups often commission independent research or conduct citizen science, while collaborating with scientists and engineers. Officials and residents should collectively work through the options and costs associated, as well as discussing what level of risk different communities are willing to accept. Public forums aren’t enough, as these tend to put experts at the centre, answering questions. The launch of the first community-based PFAS working group under the new PFAS National Coordinating Body is a positive initial step. Collaborative efforts like this are not easy. Authorities and community leaders can view each other with suspicion, and the unequal power dynamics play a role. As NSW Information Commissioner Rosalind Croucher recently pointed out, making contamination data easily available to communities helps ensure management is “transparent, evidence-based, and accountable to the communities it affects”. Hard but not impossible Like forever chemicals themselves, the issue of PFAS pollution isn’t going away. Finding better ways of responding will be essential, as the issue can’t be solved by scientists, engineers and policymakers in a top-down approach. Communities who have to drink the water must be given the right to speak – and be heard. Read more: Living with PFAS 'forever chemicals' can be distressing. Not knowing if they're making you sick is just the start Matthew Kearnes receives funding from the Australian Research Council and Australian government under the National Environmental Science Program, through the Sustainable Communities and Waste HubCameron Holley receives funding from an Australian Research Council Linkage Grant, partnering with the NSW Natural Resources Access Regulator. He is a Deputy Director of the UNSW Institute for Climate Risk and Response and a board member of the National Environmental Law Association (NELA). Carley Bartlett receives funding from an Australian Research Council Linkage Grant, partnering with the NSW Natural Resources Access Regulator. Her PhD research was supported by an Australian government Research Training Program scholarship.Patrick Bonney receives funding from an Australian Research Council Discovery Project on the governance of emerging contaminants.Denis O'Carroll does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
When worried communities talk to authorities about forever chemicals, officials often seek to explain and clarify. But this isn’t what people actually want.
Until recently, Australia’s efforts to tackle “forever chemical” pollution focused on highly polluted firefighting and defence sites.
But last year, elevated levels of some of these chemicals were detected in the untreated water supply for the Blue Mountains in New South Wales. Residents were understandably concerned.
Community groups threatened to launch a class action, while residents sought to have their blood tested. NSW Water Minister Rose Jackson moved to reassure residents their “water is safe”, and a Sydney Morning Herald editorial said the state government was blind to the risks.
Earlier this year, Australia banned three of these chemicals – PFOA, PFOS and PFHxS. PFOA is considered carcinogenic by the International Agency for Research on Cancer, while PFOS is considered possibly carcinogenic. But the environmental and health effects of forever chemical exposure remain a matter of debate, as the risk depends on concentration. In November, a Senate inquiry made dozens of recommendations to better regulate these chemicals.
All too often, authorities respond to legitimate community concerns by pointing to the low level of risk. But as these chemicals build up in drinking water, wastewater and farming soils, this trust-the-experts approach isn’t going to work.
Risks and concentration levels
Forever chemicals are properly known as PFAS (per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances). They’re used in products such as carpets, clothes, food packaging and paper, as well as firefighting foams, pesticides and stain repellents. They don’t break down easily, and steadily accumulate in soil, surface water and groundwater. Around 15,000 PFAS chemicals are now ubiquitous in the environment.
In highly contaminated sites such as firefighter training facilities or defence bases, the risk is clearer and responses can target specific facilities and geographic locations.
But the question of what to do becomes much harder when forever chemicals become widely distributed in drinking water and wastewater systems, generally at levels well below thresholds considered dangerous according to Australian standards.
In response to the Blue Mountains issue, Water NSW stopped two dams from supplying water as a precautionary measure. Sydney Water installed a new PFAS water treatment system.
Community backlash
Australian authorities began responding to PFAS contamination a decade ago. Since then, policymakers have restricted the import and manufacture of certain forever chemicals, banned some uses of PFAS-containing firefighting foams, developed a national plan to manage PFAS chemicals, officially set the levels of PFAS a person could safely consume in a day and developed guidelines for drinking water.
Even with such actions, authorities have been subject to sustained public criticism from community groups and the media over the speed, adequacy and level of protections compared to the more restrictive thresholds set by the United States and European Union.
At Williamtown in NSW, authorities were aware of the issue for three years before revealing it. Community groups lost faith in official responses, turning to external experts before ultimately launching a class action against the Department of Defence.
Some compensation flowed from this based on financial losses. But researchers have found compensation does little to actually address residents’ health and environment concerns.
Independent reviews have recommended official responses to PFAS should be more transparent. But little has changed. The same distrust is emerging in the Blue Mountains, while state and federal inquiries have raised questions over how PFAS risks are communicated and falling public trust in government agencies.
Better communication misses the point
Community backlash against issues such as PFAS contamination can often be framed as non-experts misunderstanding the science.
Authorities often think the answer is to communicate better and more clearly to fix the deficit. For instance, the national PFAS policy describes communication as essential:
if people affected by PFAS contamination cannot understand what governments are saying, they are more likely to view the information with scepticism or as a deliberate attempt to disguise the facts.
The risk here is that focusing on better official communication is still about speaking, rather than listening. The community can become a noisy stakeholder to be managed rather than an active collaborator. But people in these communities are legitimately worried. They want to speak and be heard as equal partners.
Is there a better way?
PFAS contamination isn’t just a technological or legal issue. It’s also a social issue – it affects communities.
When facing a pollution problem, affected communities often organise themselves and advocate for better outcomes. Community groups often commission independent research or conduct citizen science, while collaborating with scientists and engineers.
Officials and residents should collectively work through the options and costs associated, as well as discussing what level of risk different communities are willing to accept. Public forums aren’t enough, as these tend to put experts at the centre, answering questions.
The launch of the first community-based PFAS working group under the new PFAS National Coordinating Body is a positive initial step. Collaborative efforts like this are not easy. Authorities and community leaders can view each other with suspicion, and the unequal power dynamics play a role.
As NSW Information Commissioner Rosalind Croucher recently pointed out, making contamination data easily available to communities helps ensure management is “transparent, evidence-based, and accountable to the communities it affects”.
Hard but not impossible
Like forever chemicals themselves, the issue of PFAS pollution isn’t going away. Finding better ways of responding will be essential, as the issue can’t be solved by scientists, engineers and policymakers in a top-down approach. Communities who have to drink the water must be given the right to speak – and be heard.
Matthew Kearnes receives funding from the Australian Research Council and Australian government under the National Environmental Science Program, through the Sustainable Communities and Waste Hub
Cameron Holley receives funding from an Australian Research Council Linkage Grant, partnering with the NSW Natural Resources Access Regulator. He is a Deputy Director of the UNSW Institute for Climate Risk and Response and a board member of the National Environmental Law Association (NELA).
Carley Bartlett receives funding from an Australian Research Council Linkage Grant, partnering with the NSW Natural Resources Access Regulator. Her PhD research was supported by an Australian government Research Training Program scholarship.
Patrick Bonney receives funding from an Australian Research Council Discovery Project on the governance of emerging contaminants.
Denis O'Carroll does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.