Cookies help us run our site more efficiently.

By clicking “Accept”, you agree to the storing of cookies on your device to enhance site navigation, analyze site usage, and assist in our marketing efforts. View our Privacy Policy for more information or to customize your cookie preferences.

Ranchers reported abandoned oil wells spewing wastewater. A new study blames fracking.

News Feed
Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Sign up for The Brief, The Texas Tribune’s daily newsletter that keeps readers up to speed on the most essential Texas news. Fracking wastewater, injected underground for permanent disposal, traveled 12 miles through geological faults before bursting to the surface through a previously plugged West Texas oil well in 2022, according to a new study from Southern Methodist University. It’s the first study to draw specific links between wastewater injection and recent blowouts in the Permian Basin, the nation’s top producing oil field, where old oil wells have lately begun to spray salty water. It raises concerns about the possibility of widespread groundwater contamination in West Texas and increases the urgency for oil producers to find alternative outlets for the millions of gallons of toxic wastewater that come from Permian Basin oil wells every day. “We established a significant link between wastewater injection and oil well blowouts in the Permian Basin,” wrote the authors of the study, funded in part by NASA and published last month in the journal Geophysical Research Letters. The finding suggests "a potential for more blowouts in the near future,” it said. For years, the Texas agency that regulates the oil and gas extraction industry has refrained from putting forth an explanation for the blowout phenomenon, even as a chorus of local landowners alleged that wastewater injections were driving the flows of gassy brine onto the surface of their properties since about 2022. Injection disposal is currently the primary outlet for the tremendous amount of oilfield wastewater, also known as produced water, that flows from fracked oil wells in West Texas. Thousands of injection wells dot the Permian Basin, each reviewed and permitted by Texas’ oilfield regulator, the Texas Railroad Commission. Oil producers are exploring alternatives — a small portion of produced water is reused in fracking, and Texas is in the process of permitting facilities that will treat produced water and release it into rivers and streams. Still, underground injection remains the cheapest and most popular method by far. A scientific connection has solidified between the practice of injection disposal and the increasing strength and frequency of earthquakes nearby. In the Permian Basin, a steady crescendo of tremors peaked last November with magnitude 5.4 earthquake, the state’s strongest in 30 years, triggering heightened restrictions on injections in the area. The link between injections and surface blowouts, however, has remained unconfirmed, despite widespread suspicions. The latest study marks a big step forward in scientific documentation. “It just validates what we’ve been saying,” Sarah Stogner, an oil and gas attorney who ran an unsuccessful campaign for a seat on the Railroad Commission in 2022, said about the latest study. For the last three years, Stogner has represented the Antina Cattle Ranch, where dozens of abandoned oil wells have been spraying back to life. Stogner persistently alleged that nearby wastewater injection was responsible. But she couldn’t prove it. Now a scientific consensus is beginning to fall in behind her. “Our work independently comes to this same conclusion in different areas [of the Permian Basin],” said Katie Smye, a geologist with the Center for Injection and Seismicity Research at the University of Texas at Austin, citing several upcoming papers she and her colleagues will release at major geoscience conferences in the coming year. “There is a link between injection and surface flows in some cases.” In a study published December 2023, Smye and others reported “linear surface deformation features” in parts of the Permian Basin — the ground was swelling along channels that suggested pressure moving through underground faults. Some of those were ancient geological faults, Smye said; others appeared to be created by recent human activity. Many of them were growing, heaving and bulging, the research showed. When that channel of underground pressure hits an old oil well that is broken or improperly plugged, it can shoot to the surface. “This is reaching a critical point in the Permian Basin,” Smye said. “The scale of injection needs is increasing.” About 15 million barrels, or 630 million gallons, of produced water are injected for disposal in the Permian Basin every day, Smye said. A Railroad Commission spokesperson, Patty Ramon, said in a statement the agency is “talking to operators in the Crane County area regarding geology and other data they maintain, reviewing satellite imagery, and analyzing RRC records such as well plugging information. “We will be continuing this type of analysis in our commitment to ensuring environmental protection,” Ramon said. Blowout in 2022 sparks study The SMU study examined a January 2022 blowout in Crane County that gushed almost 15 million gallons of brine before it was capped, according to the paper. That would fill about 23 Olympic-sized swimming pools. The study traced the cause of the blowout to a cluster of nine injection wells about 12 miles to the northeast. Researchers pulled publicly available data on injection volumes at those wells and found they lined up closely to surface swelling that preceded the blowout. Seven of the wells belong to Goodnight Midstream and two belong to Blackbeard Operating, according to Railroad Commission records. A spokesperson for Blackbeard said the company “is committed to ensuring prudent operations” and “will continue to operate its assets in accordance with all applicable laws and in coordination with all applicable regulatory agencies.” Goodnight did not respond to a query. According to the paper, injection at those nine wells began in 2018 at a rate of about 362,000 gallons per day and doubled to 720,000 gallons per day in late 2019. In late 2020 it doubled again to 1.5 million gallons — two Olympic-sized swimming pools crammed underground everyday — which is when the ground near the blowout site began to inflate. The study found that the volume injected matched the volume of the surface bulge 12 miles away. “These observations suggest that this group of injection wells to the NW of the study area, injecting into the San Andres and Glorieta formations, is responsible for the surface deformation in the region,” the study said. Those wells reached a depth between 4,300 and 3,300 feet. But the SMU study found that the source of the bulge in the earth was much shallower, between 2,300 and 1,600 feet underground. “This suggests the leakage of wastewater from the San Andres or Glorieta formations to the shallow formations,” the study said. The bottom of the Rustler Aquifer, the lowest usable source of groundwater in the Permian, sits between 800 and 1,000 feet underground. The SMU study did not examine the possibility of groundwater contamination. “Our findings highlight the need for stricter regulations on wastewater injection practices and proper management of abandoned wells,” the study said. Todd Staples, president of the Texas Oil and Gas Association, said the Railroad Commission “is taking appropriate action by thoroughly gathering and reviewing data to address the issues experienced in Crane County.” He said the industry cooperates with the Railroad Commission by providing data to help analyze geological formations. “In addition, the industry and academia continue to explore alternatives to wastewater injection through market-based water reuse and recycling as well as innovative pilot programs,” Staples said. Ranchers report damaged land West Texas ranchers who own land where contaminated water is seeping from underground are beginning to worry it will soon become uninhabitable. Last February, saltwater flooded parts of Bill Wight’s ranch, about 50 miles southwest of Odessa. The lifelong rancher purchased the land in 2012, hoping to pass it on to his kids. He told The Texas Tribune he wasn’t sure how much of the ranch would survive the leaking wells. When it was clear the flow of water threatened the property last December, he asked the Railroad Commission to seal the well the water had leaked from. It took the commission months and millions of dollars to plug the well. His brother, Schuyler Wight, faces a similar predicament at his ranch roughly 60 miles to the west in Pecos County. He has asked the Railroad Commission for years to investigate the multiple abandoned leaking wells on his property. The liquid has eroded the equipment on the surface and killed the plants. After the water dried up, the ground was crusted white from salt. “It’s what we’ve known all along,” Schuyler Wight said. “What we’re doing is not sustainable.” Ashley Watt, owner of a ranch 50 miles east of Schuyler Wight’s ranch in Crane County, told the Texas Railroad Commission during a 2022 meeting that she believed excessive injection by nearby oil producers was causing the fluids to spray from abandoned oil wells on her property. A Railroad Commission staff member said the agency asked operators to check for a source of the leak. The operators told the commission they did not find any. The Railroad Commission during the meeting also said they did not find a well in the agency’s database, and that the nearest injection wells were less than two miles away. The agency instructed staff to prevent truckers from accessing those injection sites, telling operators to find others “until further notice.” The wells continue to leak. Laura Briggs, who also owns a ranch in Pecos County less than half a mile east of Schuyler Wight’s place, said she has seen five old wells start leaking water since 2015. The Railroad Commission plugged two of them, she said, but one began to leak through the seal again. Briggs has repeatedly given testimony and submitted documentation to the Railroad Commission asking for help. Based on her experience, she believes the subterranean problems in West Texas are much more than what the Railroad Commission can handle. “If I could do one thing differently, we would have gotten a mobile home so it was easier to get the hell out of here,” Briggs said. “If this [ranch] goes leaking, we just have to leave and nobody will buy the property, no insurance will cover it, you’re just done.” Despite those problems, the Railroad Commission approved 400 new disposal wells in the Permian Basin alone in 2021, according to agency documents, and 480 in 2022. Threats to groundwater The use of injection wells for disposal has expanded immensely with the practice of fracking, according to Dominic DiGiulio, a geoscientist who worked for 30 years at the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. But DiGiulio said these wells are still regulated under rules from the 1970s and ’80s. Increasingly, he said, those rules appear insufficient. “West Texas isn’t the only place where this is happening,” DiGiulio said. “Overpressurization of aquifers due to disposal of produced water is a problem.” In 2022, DiGiulio conducted a review of Ohio’s wastewater injection program for the group Physicians, Scientists, and Engineers for Healthy Energy and found the same two problems there: Injected fluids were leaking from some formations meant to contain them, and excessive injections were causing other formations to become overpressurized. There was one big difference with Texas. In November 2021, DiGiulio’s study said, Ohio had just 228 injection wells for wastewater disposal. Texas, meanwhile, had 13,585 in 2022, according to Railroad Commission documents. The primary threat posed by produced water migrating from injection wells is groundwater contamination. If deep formations fail to contain the toxic waste injected into them, that waste could end up in shallow freshwater aquifers. It could happen two ways, DiGiulio said. If the wastewater enters the inside of an old oil well through corroded holes in the casing, it can travel up the steel pipe to the surface, spilling and seeping into the ground. If the wastewater moves up the outside of an old oil well, through the cement that surrounds the steel pipe, it could already be flowing into the aquifer. That would be bad news for West Texas, which depends almost entirely on groundwater for drinking and crop irrigation. “Once groundwater contamination happens, it’s too expensive to remediate,” DiGiulio said. “So when it occurs, that’s basically it. You’ve ruined that resource.” Disclosure: Southern Methodist University and the University of Texas at Austin 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. The full program is now LIVE for the 2024 Texas Tribune Festival, happening Sept. 5–7 in downtown Austin. Explore the program featuring more than 100 unforgettable conversations on topics covering education, the economy, Texas and national politics, criminal justice, the border, the 2024 elections and so much more. See the full program.

An SMU study is the first scientific proof of a phenomenon local landowners have long warned was occurring.

Sign up for The Brief, The Texas Tribune’s daily newsletter that keeps readers up to speed on the most essential Texas news.


Fracking wastewater, injected underground for permanent disposal, traveled 12 miles through geological faults before bursting to the surface through a previously plugged West Texas oil well in 2022, according to a new study from Southern Methodist University.

It’s the first study to draw specific links between wastewater injection and recent blowouts in the Permian Basin, the nation’s top producing oil field, where old oil wells have lately begun to spray salty water.

It raises concerns about the possibility of widespread groundwater contamination in West Texas and increases the urgency for oil producers to find alternative outlets for the millions of gallons of toxic wastewater that come from Permian Basin oil wells every day.

“We established a significant link between wastewater injection and oil well blowouts in the Permian Basin,” wrote the authors of the study, funded in part by NASA and published last month in the journal Geophysical Research Letters. The finding suggests "a potential for more blowouts in the near future,” it said.

For years, the Texas agency that regulates the oil and gas extraction industry has refrained from putting forth an explanation for the blowout phenomenon, even as a chorus of local landowners alleged that wastewater injections were driving the flows of gassy brine onto the surface of their properties since about 2022.

Injection disposal is currently the primary outlet for the tremendous amount of oilfield wastewater, also known as produced water, that flows from fracked oil wells in West Texas. Thousands of injection wells dot the Permian Basin, each reviewed and permitted by Texas’ oilfield regulator, the Texas Railroad Commission.

Oil producers are exploring alternatives — a small portion of produced water is reused in fracking, and Texas is in the process of permitting facilities that will treat produced water and release it into rivers and streams. Still, underground injection remains the cheapest and most popular method by far.

A scientific connection has solidified between the practice of injection disposal and the increasing strength and frequency of earthquakes nearby. In the Permian Basin, a steady crescendo of tremors peaked last November with magnitude 5.4 earthquake, the state’s strongest in 30 years, triggering heightened restrictions on injections in the area.

The link between injections and surface blowouts, however, has remained unconfirmed, despite widespread suspicions. The latest study marks a big step forward in scientific documentation.

“It just validates what we’ve been saying,” Sarah Stogner, an oil and gas attorney who ran an unsuccessful campaign for a seat on the Railroad Commission in 2022, said about the latest study.

For the last three years, Stogner has represented the Antina Cattle Ranch, where dozens of abandoned oil wells have been spraying back to life. Stogner persistently alleged that nearby wastewater injection was responsible. But she couldn’t prove it.

Now a scientific consensus is beginning to fall in behind her.

“Our work independently comes to this same conclusion in different areas [of the Permian Basin],” said Katie Smye, a geologist with the Center for Injection and Seismicity Research at the University of Texas at Austin, citing several upcoming papers she and her colleagues will release at major geoscience conferences in the coming year. “There is a link between injection and surface flows in some cases.”

In a study published December 2023, Smye and others reported “linear surface deformation features” in parts of the Permian Basin — the ground was swelling along channels that suggested pressure moving through underground faults. Some of those were ancient geological faults, Smye said; others appeared to be created by recent human activity. Many of them were growing, heaving and bulging, the research showed.

When that channel of underground pressure hits an old oil well that is broken or improperly plugged, it can shoot to the surface.

“This is reaching a critical point in the Permian Basin,” Smye said. “The scale of injection needs is increasing.”

About 15 million barrels, or 630 million gallons, of produced water are injected for disposal in the Permian Basin every day, Smye said.

A Railroad Commission spokesperson, Patty Ramon, said in a statement the agency is “talking to operators in the Crane County area regarding geology and other data they maintain, reviewing satellite imagery, and analyzing RRC records such as well plugging information.

“We will be continuing this type of analysis in our commitment to ensuring environmental protection,” Ramon said.

Blowout in 2022 sparks study

The SMU study examined a January 2022 blowout in Crane County that gushed almost 15 million gallons of brine before it was capped, according to the paper. That would fill about 23 Olympic-sized swimming pools.

The study traced the cause of the blowout to a cluster of nine injection wells about 12 miles to the northeast. Researchers pulled publicly available data on injection volumes at those wells and found they lined up closely to surface swelling that preceded the blowout. Seven of the wells belong to Goodnight Midstream and two belong to Blackbeard Operating, according to Railroad Commission records.

A spokesperson for Blackbeard said the company “is committed to ensuring prudent operations” and “will continue to operate its assets in accordance with all applicable laws and in coordination with all applicable regulatory agencies.”

Goodnight did not respond to a query.

According to the paper, injection at those nine wells began in 2018 at a rate of about 362,000 gallons per day and doubled to 720,000 gallons per day in late 2019. In late 2020 it doubled again to 1.5 million gallons — two Olympic-sized swimming pools crammed underground everyday — which is when the ground near the blowout site began to inflate.

The study found that the volume injected matched the volume of the surface bulge 12 miles away.

“These observations suggest that this group of injection wells to the NW of the study area, injecting into the San Andres and Glorieta formations, is responsible for the surface deformation in the region,” the study said.

Those wells reached a depth between 4,300 and 3,300 feet. But the SMU study found that the source of the bulge in the earth was much shallower, between 2,300 and 1,600 feet underground.

“This suggests the leakage of wastewater from the San Andres or Glorieta formations to the shallow formations,” the study said.

The bottom of the Rustler Aquifer, the lowest usable source of groundwater in the Permian, sits between 800 and 1,000 feet underground. The SMU study did not examine the possibility of groundwater contamination.

“Our findings highlight the need for stricter regulations on wastewater injection practices and proper management of abandoned wells,” the study said.

Todd Staples, president of the Texas Oil and Gas Association, said the Railroad Commission “is taking appropriate action by thoroughly gathering and reviewing data to address the issues experienced in Crane County.”

He said the industry cooperates with the Railroad Commission by providing data to help analyze geological formations. “In addition, the industry and academia continue to explore alternatives to wastewater injection through market-based water reuse and recycling as well as innovative pilot programs,” Staples said.

Ranchers report damaged land

West Texas ranchers who own land where contaminated water is seeping from underground are beginning to worry it will soon become uninhabitable.

Last February, saltwater flooded parts of Bill Wight’s ranch, about 50 miles southwest of Odessa. The lifelong rancher purchased the land in 2012, hoping to pass it on to his kids. He told The Texas Tribune he wasn’t sure how much of the ranch would survive the leaking wells.

When it was clear the flow of water threatened the property last December, he asked the Railroad Commission to seal the well the water had leaked from. It took the commission months and millions of dollars to plug the well.

His brother, Schuyler Wight, faces a similar predicament at his ranch roughly 60 miles to the west in Pecos County. He has asked the Railroad Commission for years to investigate the multiple abandoned leaking wells on his property. The liquid has eroded the equipment on the surface and killed the plants. After the water dried up, the ground was crusted white from salt.

“It’s what we’ve known all along,” Schuyler Wight said. “What we’re doing is not sustainable.”

Ashley Watt, owner of a ranch 50 miles east of Schuyler Wight’s ranch in Crane County, told the Texas Railroad Commission during a 2022 meeting that she believed excessive injection by nearby oil producers was causing the fluids to spray from abandoned oil wells on her property.

A Railroad Commission staff member said the agency asked operators to check for a source of the leak. The operators told the commission they did not find any. The Railroad Commission during the meeting also said they did not find a well in the agency’s database, and that the nearest injection wells were less than two miles away.

The agency instructed staff to prevent truckers from accessing those injection sites, telling operators to find others “until further notice.”

The wells continue to leak.

Laura Briggs, who also owns a ranch in Pecos County less than half a mile east of Schuyler Wight’s place, said she has seen five old wells start leaking water since 2015. The Railroad Commission plugged two of them, she said, but one began to leak through the seal again.

Briggs has repeatedly given testimony and submitted documentation to the Railroad Commission asking for help. Based on her experience, she believes the subterranean problems in West Texas are much more than what the Railroad Commission can handle.

“If I could do one thing differently, we would have gotten a mobile home so it was easier to get the hell out of here,” Briggs said. “If this [ranch] goes leaking, we just have to leave and nobody will buy the property, no insurance will cover it, you’re just done.”

Despite those problems, the Railroad Commission approved 400 new disposal wells in the Permian Basin alone in 2021, according to agency documents, and 480 in 2022.

Threats to groundwater

The use of injection wells for disposal has expanded immensely with the practice of fracking, according to Dominic DiGiulio, a geoscientist who worked for 30 years at the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. But DiGiulio said these wells are still regulated under rules from the 1970s and ’80s. Increasingly, he said, those rules appear insufficient.

“West Texas isn’t the only place where this is happening,” DiGiulio said. “Overpressurization of aquifers due to disposal of produced water is a problem.”

In 2022, DiGiulio conducted a review of Ohio’s wastewater injection program for the group Physicians, Scientists, and Engineers for Healthy Energy and found the same two problems there: Injected fluids were leaking from some formations meant to contain them, and excessive injections were causing other formations to become overpressurized.

There was one big difference with Texas. In November 2021, DiGiulio’s study said, Ohio had just 228 injection wells for wastewater disposal. Texas, meanwhile, had 13,585 in 2022, according to Railroad Commission documents.

The primary threat posed by produced water migrating from injection wells is groundwater contamination. If deep formations fail to contain the toxic waste injected into them, that waste could end up in shallow freshwater aquifers.

It could happen two ways, DiGiulio said. If the wastewater enters the inside of an old oil well through corroded holes in the casing, it can travel up the steel pipe to the surface, spilling and seeping into the ground. If the wastewater moves up the outside of an old oil well, through the cement that surrounds the steel pipe, it could already be flowing into the aquifer.

That would be bad news for West Texas, which depends almost entirely on groundwater for drinking and crop irrigation.

“Once groundwater contamination happens, it’s too expensive to remediate,” DiGiulio said. “So when it occurs, that’s basically it. You’ve ruined that resource.”

Disclosure: Southern Methodist University and the University of Texas at Austin 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.


The full program is now LIVE for the 2024 Texas Tribune Festival, happening Sept. 5–7 in downtown Austin. Explore the program featuring more than 100 unforgettable conversations on topics covering education, the economy, Texas and national politics, criminal justice, the border, the 2024 elections and so much more. See the full program.

Read the full story here.
Photos courtesy of

Ditch the balloons and swap the plastic toys for cake: how to have a waste-free birthday party

Low waste doesn’t have to mean no fun – with a little creativity you can celebrate an occasion without hurting the planet Change by degrees offers life hacks and sustainable living tips each Saturday to help reduce your household’s carbon footprintGot a question or tip for reducing household emissions? Email us at changebydegrees@theguardian.comWhen planning a big bash to celebrate my 40th last year, I wanted a stylish and memorable celebration that didn’t cost the earth.Between food waste, plastic packaging, single-use decorations and fast fashion, the environmental footprint of festivities can quickly add up. Thankfully though, low waste doesn’t have to mean no fun. Continue reading...

When planning a big bash to celebrate my 40th last year, I wanted a stylish and memorable celebration that didn’t cost the earth.Between food waste, plastic packaging, single-use decorations and fast fashion, the environmental footprint of festivities can quickly add up. Thankfully though, low waste doesn’t have to mean no fun.With a little creativity, out-of-the-box thinking and some help from my community, I was able to throw an entertaining and colourful back yard garden party that produced little waste – and was more affordable to boot. Here are some ideas to help you plan a low-impact party.Reduce food waste and packagingDisposable plates, cups and cutlery are among the most wasteful aspects of parties – they’re single-use, wrapped in plastic and usually get dumped in the rubbish. Over-catering food is also costly to both the environment and your hip pocket. I sidestepped all that by hosting a pot-luck dinner – where each guest brought a plate of food to share – served using metal cutlery and compostable plates.Disposable plates are among the most wasteful aspects of parties. Photograph: Penpak Ngamsathain/Getty ImagesAnother option, says zero-waste author Erin Rhoads, is the national Party Kit Network. Community members offer reusable tableware, decorations and even party games to borrow, use and return locally. Some party kits are free, while schools and childcare centres may charge a small hire fee for fundraising. “As a parent, planning a party for your child can be really stressful,” Rhoads says. “With the kit, everyone gets to see how easily reusables can be integrated into a celebration.”By hosting my 40th at my place, I could better control sustainable decisions around waste, decorations and food. For example, I placed recycling and compost bins in a prominent location with clear labelling, with the landfill bin further away. If you’re partying in a park or at a venue, consider bringing a compost bin to collect food waste.Reuse, borrow and rentConsider how you might source your get-together’s needs without purchasing new. I began by repurposing items I already had. I gathered couches and comfy chairs from around my house and set them up in the garden – after the party, they simply went back inside. In the weeks leading up to the event, I kept an eye on roadside rubbish and scored a free rug and a couple of extra chairs. Instead of buying new glassware, I used old jars.There’s no point giving a kid an eco-friendly gift they’ll never useWhen I needed extra items, I turned to my community and borrowed fairy lights, a fire pit, small coffee tables and extra seating. Buy Nothing groups are an excellent resource for free sharing and loaning in your neighbourhood. If you do need to buy, try second-hand first. I thrifted a drinks dispenser online – for one-third of the usual retail price – and sourced my entire 1920s-themed outfit, from headpiece to dress and shoes, at op shops.Skip presents or try a ‘fiver birthday’At this stage in my life, I have most things I need – and I’m fussy about what I want in my home. To avoid unwanted gifts, I simply asked for none. Alternatively, you could request experiences, consumable treats such as foods and drinks, and even second-hand gifts from thrift shops, eBay or Facebook Marketplace, helping normalise sustainable giving while reducing costs for your guests.Rhoads says a “fiver birthday” is a great option for children’s parties – and helps take the pressure off parents. Each guest contributes just $5 so the birthday child can buy themselves a larger gift afterwards. Handmade cards add a personal touch. Or just ask if there’s anything specific the child needs or wants. “There’s no point giving a kid an eco-friendly gift they’ll never use,” Rhoads says.Try newspaper, decorated with ribbons saved from previous presents. Photograph: Amanda Vivan/Getty ImagesAvoid disposable wrapping paper, which mostly can’t be recycled due to metallic dyes, plastic coating and stray plastic sticky tape. Instead, try newspaper or second-hand options such as old sheet music, fabric, scarves or tea towels, decorated with ribbons saved from previous presents. Ensure you choose biodegradable tape, too.Choose low-impact decorations and party bagsIf you make just one change at your next party – ban the balloons. Balloon pollution is a major threat to marine life including seabirds and turtles, which can die after mistaking balloons for food. Instead, consider homemade options made from compostable materials, such as wool, cotton, wood, paper and even plants and flowers from the garden or neighbourhood. Fabric bunting and paper garlands can be folded up and reused again for future parties.For the time-poor or craft-averse, explore Facebook Marketplace or local hire services. Or skip the decorations entirely. I allowed my garden and borrowed fairy lights to provide a natural background to my 40th festivities, combined with a broad ‘any-era’ vintage dress-up theme that made it easier for guests to shop their wardrobe for a costume rather than buying fast fashion.To make kids’ party bags more sustainable, avoid plastic-wrapped lollies or cheap plastic toys that break easily. Homemade play-dough in reusable jars or seed balls made from coconut coir, clay and flower seeds offer a fun, nature-friendly option. Or, Rhoads says, simply send guests home with a slice of birthday cake in a paper bag.“Showing these swaps aren’t that daunting and that events can still be joyful – and perhaps save money as a bonus – is a fun way to get people to rethink living sustainability without the lectures and statistics, which can scare them into inaction,” she says. “It helps shift habits and behaviours in the long term.”

Mysterious bags of ‘hazardous’ materials appeared in Mexico. Then we found more

An investigation found thousands of white bags near Monterrey, but aerial footage shows a bigger problemRevealed: US hazardous waste is sent to Mexico – where a ‘toxic cocktail’ of pollution emergesCall it the mystery of the white bags. After they were found to be sprawling across acres of land near the Mexican city of Monterrey, authorities ordered their “urgent” removal. Now visual evidence suggests the problem is more extensive than previously known.An investigation by the Guardian and Quinto Elemento Lab first identified the bags in January, piling up around a factory that recycles toxic waste imported from the US. Based on this finding, Mexican authorities demanded a cleanup of what they said was 30,000 tons of stored material with “hazardous characteristics”. Continue reading...

Call it the mystery of the white bags. After they were found to be sprawling across acres of land near the Mexican city of Monterrey, authorities ordered their “urgent” removal. Now visual evidence suggests the problem is more extensive than previously known.An investigation by the Guardian and Quinto Elemento Lab first identified the bags in January, piling up around a factory that recycles toxic waste imported from the US. Based on this finding, Mexican authorities demanded a cleanup of what they said was 30,000 tons of stored material with “hazardous characteristics”.But aerial and Google Street View photography shows there is at least one more outdoor site related to the company where hundreds more of the white supersacks, typically used to hold industrial chemicals, appear to have been stored. Mexico’s environmental enforcement agency said it would conduct an inspection.The issue of imported US toxic waste – and related concerns, such as the white bags – have become a lightning rod in Mexico and Canada in recent months, with commentators questioning why they should take the US’s discards as their countries face a new trade war instigated by the Trump administration.A sequence of images from 2020, 2024 and 26 February 2025 showing the piling-up, and then recent removal of, bags from Zinc Nacional. In 2024, the bags covered at least 5 acres. Photograph: Maxar TechnologiesDrone image from the same area in March 2025, with the area clear of bags. Photograph: El NorteIn Mexico, attention has focused on the Monterrey-area factory, which is owned by a company called Zinc Nacional and recycles toxic dust sent to the country by the US steel industry.According to the latest imagery, the company has now cleared all the bags located there following the order from regulators.But new photography shows that the bags also cover more than an acre of land 15km (9 miles) away at the plant of a company called Meremex. Business records show that it is majority-owned by Zinc Nacional and has also been licensed to recycle hazardous waste.Photographs taken on Wednesday by drone, in a collaboration between the Monterrey newspaper El Norte, the Guardian and Quinto Elemento Lab, show that the giant bags remain stacked around the Meremex industrial yard, with blue tarps partially covering them.Historical Google Earth and Street View photographs show that two more yards in the same industrial park were previously filled with bags that have been cleared over the last two years. They appear similar to the bags in the Meremex yard, and bags on a truck parked in front of one yard read “Made in Mexico by Zinc Nacional”.Imagery of these bags from 2022 shows that they were, in places, stacked three bags high and that some of them were broken open and spilling powders on to the bare ground. That site is 600 meters (1,969ft) from a river.Mexico’s environmental enforcement agency, known as Profepa, said it would inspect the sites, saying: “We will also examine the type of material stored to decide whether soil sampling is required and whether remediation is necessary.”At Zinc Nacional’s plant, authorities initially gave the company 15 days to move bags spread across a 20-acre (8-hectare) industrial scrapyard. Satellite imagery suggests the company was still working to remove bags as recently as 14 March, and drone imagery indicates this yard has now been cleared.Profepa says the company has told it that these bags contain zinc oxide, a final product that is extracted from the toxic waste and used in products such as rubber and fertilizer. Profepa says the material in the bags has “hazardous characteristics”.The agency ordered the company to sample the underlying soil and develop a remediation plan for any contamination.“The sacks are being placed in storage areas with reinforced concrete floors, walls, and steel sheet roofing,” said a statement from regulators at Profepa. It added that the environmental investigation was ongoing and that authorities were also reviewing the licenses of other companies that handle hazardous waste in the state of Nuevo León.The findings follow an investigation by the Guardian and Quinto Elemento Lab, a Mexican investigative journalism unit, that revealed that the United States exports about 760,000 tons a year of its hazardous waste to Mexico – a practice that environmentalists say raises the danger that the toxic material will not be handled as safely as would be required in the US.The Zinc Nacional plant in Monterrey, Nuevo León, Mexico, on 14 September 2024. Photograph: Bernardo De Niz/Quinto Elemento LabIn Mexico, Zinc Nacional is one of the largest importers of US toxic waste, and recycles contaminated metal dust sent to the country by major US steel companies in order to recover zinc.Toxicologist Martín Soto Jiménez, from the National Autonomous University of Mexico, conducted sampling in the neighborhood around the zinc plant and found high levels of lead, cadmium and arsenic in soil samples – including inside some homes and schools.In response to questions from reporters, the company said it was working with local and federal authorities and was responding to points raised in inspections.“We have successfully completed the removal of 100% of zinc oxide material from our operation yards,” it said.It said Meremex had been shut down in 2023, and that “we will complete the removal of its inventory in the next weeks”.In addition, the company said it had “serious concerns about both the methodology rigor and reliability of the study” by Soto Jiménez, and about the way it had been reported. It suggested that not enough sites had been tested for contaminants, that the resulting story selectively highlighted only the worst results, that many of the results had not been “alarming”, as the story said, and that the study had been inconclusive as to whether heavy metals found in the samples had originated in the company’s factory.After the original story was published, state and federal regulators began immediate investigations of the Zinc Nacional plant. Regulators said they shut down 15 unauthorized pieces of equipment at the plant, in addition to ordering the materials stored in the scrapyard moved.Environmental experts said it is troubling to see so much chemical material accumulating around the property of a plant that is handling hazardous wastes.“The volume itself is concerning,” said James Rybarczyk, a retired chemistry professor, who once served as an emergency responder to incidents involving chemical hazards in the US. “That’s an enormous quantity of anything – and to just be sitting there?”Rybarczyk, who has been looking into the activities of Zinc Nacional since the company proposed opening a plant in his home town of Muncie, Indiana, five years ago, said that such supersacks can easily leach chemicals or metals into the soil.“Where could all this volume come from?” he said. “Why isn’t it being sold? Why is it being stored? Those are my questions.”Other experts said that places where the bags have been stored require further work to make sure no chemical hazards remain.Javier Castro Larragoitia, a research professor of environmental geochemistry at the Autonomous University of San Luis Potosí, said sampling would be needed to know the most appropriate next steps.“If there is a contaminant in the soil, there is always the potential for it to move downward into the subsoil and eventually reach the underground water table,” he said.The three sites in the industrial park where Meremex is located are in the watershed of the Pesquería River, which flows into the Rio Grande.Zinc Nacional’s plant is also near an important watershed, according to Mexican environmental attorney Francisco Javier Camarena Juárez. This, he said, “requires stricter oversight of the situation”.The company said it hired a firm approved by regulators to determine whether there had been contamination from the white bags.But relying on companies to hire their own investigators could be considered a conflict of interest, said Gonzalo García Vargas, a toxicologist at Juárez University.“The community could organize and demand that the study be conducted by independent institutions, possibly a public university,” he said. “That’s what was done in Torreón,” he added, referring to contamination around a notorious lead smelter in that city in northern Mexico.

Alaska Natives want the US military to clean up its toxic waste

Now they're turning to the UN for help.

In June 1942, Japan’s invasion of the Aleutian islands in Alaska prompted the U.S. military to activate the Alaska territorial guard, an Army reserve made up of volunteers who wanted to help protect the U.S. So many of the volunteers were from Alaska’s Indigenous peoples — Aleut, Inupiak, Yupik, Tlingit, and many others — that the guard was nicknamed the “Eskimo Scouts.”  When World War II ended and the reserve force ceased operations in 1947, the U.S. approached the Indigenous Yupik people of Alaska with another ask: Could the Air Force set up “listening posts” on the island of Sivuqaq, also known as St. Lawrence Island, to help with the intelligence gathering needed to win the Cold War?   Viola Waghiyi, who is Yupik from Sivuqaq, said the answer was a resounding yes.  “Our grandfathers and fathers volunteered for the Alaska territorial guard,” she said. “We were very patriotic.”  But that trust was abused, Waghiyi said. The U.S. military eventually abandoned its Air Force and Army bases, leaving the land polluted with toxic chemicals such as fuel, mercury, and polychlorinated biphenyls, or PCBs, that are known as “forever chemicals” because they persist so long in the environment. The contamination was largely due to spilled and leaking fuel from storage tanks and pipes, both above ground and below ground. More chemical waste came from electrical transformers, abandoned metals and 55-gallon drums.  Now, Waghiyi is the environmental health and justice program director at the Alaska Community Action on Toxics, an organization dedicated to limiting the effects of toxic substances on Alaska’s residents and environment. Last week, the organization filed a complaint to the United Nations special rapporteur on toxics and human rights, in partnership with the U.C. Berkeley Environmental Law Clinic.  Their complaint calls for the United Nations to investigate how military waste on Sivuqaq continues to violate the rights of the people who live there, such as the right to a clean and healthy environment and Indigenous peoples’ right to free, prior, and informed consent to what happens on their land.  “By exposing the Yupik people of Sivuqaq to polluted drinking water sources, air, and soil, and by contaminating local native foods; by causing pervasive human exposure to hazardous chemicals through multiple routes; by toxifying the broader ecosystem; and by not cleaning up contamination sufficiently to protect human health and the environment, the U.S. Air Force and Army Corps of Engineers violated human rights long recognized in international law,” the complaint says.  This submission from Alaska is part of a larger, global effort to raise awareness of military toxic waste by the United Nations. The U.N. special rapporteur on toxics and human rights is collecting public input on military activities and toxic waste until April 1. The information collected will be used in a report presented to the U.N. General Assembly in October.  The two shuttered bases in Sivuqaq, Alaska, are now classified as “formerly used defense,” or FUD, sites, overseen by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, and more than $130 million has been spent to remove the contamination. John Budnick, a spokesman for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers in Alaska, said the cleanup is considered complete but that the agency is reviewing the site every five years “to ensure the selected remedies continue to be protective of human health and the environment.”  “We have completed the work at Northeast Cape, but additional follow-up actions may result from the monitoring phase of the Formerly Used Defense Sites Program,” he said. The last site visit occurred last July and an updated review report is expected to be released this summer. The federal Environmental Protection Agency, or EPA, similarly concluded in 2013 that an additional EPA cleanup wouldn’t significantly differ from what the Army Corps of Engineers is doing and declined to place the sites on the EPA’s list of hazardous waste cleanup priorities. A 2022 study found that so far, federal cleanup efforts have been inadequate. “High levels of persistent organic pollutants and toxic metals continue to leach from the Northeast Cape FUD site despite large-scale remediation that occurred in the early 2000s,” the authors concluded.  The persisting pollution has garnered the attention of Alaska’s state Dept. of Environmental Conservation which oversees the cleanup of contaminated sites. Stephanie Buss, contaminated sites program manager at the agency, said her office has asked the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to do additional cleanup at Northeast Cape. “These active contaminated sites have not met closure requirements,” she said. The second former base, Gambell, was classified as completed but still lacks land use controls, she noted.  “DEC takes community health concerns seriously and will continue to provide oversight of the conditions at its active sites in accordance with the state’s regulatory framework to ensure an appropriate response that protects human health and welfare,” Buss said. That same 2022 study found that 89 percent of the fish around the Northeast Cape base contained mercury exceeding the levels the EPA deemed appropriate for people who rely on subsistence fishing. “All fish sampled near the FUD site exceeded the EPA’s PCB guidelines for cancer risk for unrestricted human consumption,” the researchers further found. Waghiyi said the contamination displaced 130 people, and has left her friends and family with a lasting legacy of illness.  “It’s not a matter of if we’ll get cancer, but when,” Waghiyi said. Her father died of cancer. Her mother had a stillborn child. Waghiyi herself is a cancer survivor and has had three miscarriages.  “We feel that they have turned their back on us,” Waghiyi said of the U.S. military. “We wanted our lands to be turned back in the same condition when they turned over.”  The U.S. military has a long history of contaminating lands and waters through military training and battles sites, including on Indigenous lands. Citizens of the Navajo Nation in Arizona and  Yakama Nation in Washington continue to raise concerns about the ongoing effects of military nuclear testing on their lands and health. In the Marshall Islands, fishing around certain atolls is discouraged due to high rates of toxicity due to nuclear testing and other military training. On Guam, chemicals from an active Air Force base have contaminated parts of the islandʻs sole-source aquifer that serves 70% of the population. Last year, a federal report found that climate change threatens to unearth even more U.S. military nuclear waste in both the Marshall Islands and Greenland.  In 2021, the Navy in Hawaiʻi poisoned 90,000 people when jet fuel leached from aging, massive underground storage tanks into the drinking water supply after the Navy ignored years of warning to upgrade the tanks or remove the fuel. The federal government spent hundreds of millions of dollars to remove unexploded ordnance from the island of Kahoʻolawe, a former bombing range in Hawaiʻi, but the island is still considered dangerous to walk on because of the risk of more ordnance unearthing due to extensive erosion.  The complaint filed last week by the Alaska Community Action on Toxics calls for the United Nations to write to U.S. federal and state agencies and call upon them to honor a 1951 agreement between the U.S. government and the Sivuqaq Yupik people that prohibited polluting the land.  The agreement said that the Sivuqaq Tribes would allow the Air Force to construct surveillance sites to spy on the Soviet Union, but they had four conditions, including allowing Indigenous peoples to continue to hunt, fish and trap where desired and preventing outsiders from killing their game. Finally, the agreement said that “any refuse or garbage will not be dumped in streams or near the beach within the proposed area.”  “The import of the agreement was clear: The military must not despoil the island; must protect the resources critical to Indigenous Yupik inhabitants’ sustenance; and must leave the island in the condition they found it, which ensured their health and well-being,” the Alaska Community Action on Toxics wrote in their complaint.  “This is a burden we didn’t create,” Waghiyi said. This story was originally published by Grist with the headline Alaska Natives want the US military to clean up its toxic waste on Mar 19, 2025.

California regulators want to weaken hazardous waste disposal rules

California environmental regulators are considering rolling back the state's hazardous waste disposal rules, potentially permitting some municipal landfills to accept more contaminated soil from heavily polluted areas.

California environmental regulators are considering rolling back the state’s hazardous waste disposal rules, potentially permitting some municipal landfills to accept more contaminated soil from heavily polluted areas.From lead-acid battery smelters to rocket testing facilities, heavy industry over the past century in California has left large swathes of land imbued with dangerous chemicals. As a result, contaminated soil that has been removed during major environmental cleanups or new construction has typically comprised the largest bloc of hazardous waste in California each year. More than 560,000 tons of toxic dirt are excavated every year on average, according to a 2023 DTSC report.The vast majority of this polluted soil would not qualify as hazardous waste outside of California, because the state has more stringent rules than the federal government. But now the California Department of Toxic Substances Control is recommending loosening the state’s hazardous waste rules for contaminated soil, arguing that many nonhazardous landfills are adequately equipped to accept chemical-laced dirt, according to an unpublished draft plan obtained by The Times.DTSC spokesperson Alysa Pakkidis said the agency is exploring ways to manage California-only hazardous waste “under different standards while still protecting public health and the environment,” as required by a 2021 state law. The agency’s recommendations will be detailed in the state’s first Hazardous Waste Management Plan, a document that is intended to help guide state strategy on potentially dangerous wastes and which the 2021 law requires be published every three years.The law called for the first version to be published by March 1. But as of March 11, it has still not been posted publicly.The DTSC proposal comes as hazardous waste, namely in the form of soil polluted after the recent L.A. wildfires, has become top of mind. Government agencies are facing blistering criticism over their decision to allow untested — and potentially hazardous — wildfire ash and soil to be disposed of in municipal landfills across Southern California.Environmental groups say allowing nonhazardous waste landfills to accept chemical-laced soil would be a grave mistake. By dumping more toxic substances into the landfills, there’s a higher chance of chemicals leaking into groundwater or becoming part of airborne dust blowing into nearby communities.“The reason we established these waste codes was to protect California’s groundwater and public health,” said Jane Williams, executive director of California Communities Against Toxics, an environmental nonprofit. “You can see how effectively [the state is] regulating landfills without the hazardous waste. We’re finding vast noncompliance.”California’s more rigorous hazardous waste standards have led to higher costs for industry and government, as under the current rules, contaminated soil must be transported to a specialized hazardous waste facility in California or hauled to landfills in neighboring states.California currently has only two hazardous waste landfills: Kettleman Hills and Buttonwillow, both in San Joaquin Valley. Oftentimes, contaminated soil is taken to nonhazardous landfills in neighboring states that rely on the more lenient federal standards. The average distance driven to dispose of California-designated hazardous soil is about 440 miles, according to a DTSC draft report.“Because there’s only two and they’re kind of far away from everything, it is very expensive to take material there,” said Nick Lapis, director of advocacy for Californians Against Waste, a Sacramento-based environmental nonprofit. “So people are always looking for ways to not take material there, and that has sometimes resulted in people taking material out of state.”The proposed changes would in theory give private industry a larger selection of in-state landfills to which they could send their waste. DTSC argues that this would result in shorter trucking distances, less air pollution and lower costs.But the state could also see cost savings from relaxing its policies. California has been funding the removal and replacement of soil in neighborhoods around the Exide battery plant in Southeast L.A. County — the state’s most expensive cleanup. State contractors are trucking hazardous soil from that site to nonhazardous waste landfills in Utah, Nevada and Arizona — states that rely on the more lenient federal hazardous waste standards.California currently uses three tests to determine whether solid waste is hazardous. One ensures waste doesn’t exceed state-established limits for certain toxic substances when the waste is in a solid form. For example, soil with 1,000 parts per million of lead is considered toxic by the state.The other two tests measure the concentration of toxic substances that seep out of solid waste when it is exposed to an acid. These are intended to simulate how solid waste could release chemicals inside the landfill as it’s exposed to leachate — liquid waste from rainfall or decomposing garbage. One of these tests is based on federally established methods, and the other is based on the stricter California state-established standards.DTSC recommends allowing contaminated soil that fails the state’s leakage test to be dumped at nonhazardous waste landfills, so long as it passes the other two tests. They stressed that hazardous soil would be sent to landfills with liners and leachate collection systems — equipment that gathers and pumps out liquid waste that trickles to the bottom of the dump.Environmental advocates say liner systems can fail when damaged by earthquakes or extreme heat. They argue that sending chemical-laced soil into such systems would eventually imperil groundwater near landfills and could lead to long-term contamination risks.Residents who live near the landfills that are already accepting debris from the Eaton and Palisades wildfires say they are also worried about toxic dust.One of these sites is the Sunshine Canyon Landfill, a 1,036-acre landfill located in a blustery mountain pass in the northeastern San Fernando Valley where gusts often blow dust and odors into nearby communities. The landfill is less than a mile away from a popular recreational area with soccer fields and baseball diamonds.After trucks moved fire debris to the landfill, Erick Fefferman, a resident of nearby Granada Hills, decided against allowing his son to participate in a youth soccer league there this year.“We keep hearing about liners and leachate, but we’re not hearing about wind,” said Erick Fefferman. “Things don’t just sink down — they also get lifted up.”Contaminated soil is allowed to be used as “daily cover,” a layer of material spread over municipal waste to prevent odors and pests. In a November 2024 meeting, when state officials were asked if California-only hazardous soil could be used as a cover, a DTSC representative said “it is a consideration.”California’s hazardous waste laws were first established in 1972 to direct the state to regulate the handling, transportation and disposal of dangerous materials within the state. The state adopted a more rigorous classification system and regulations, including the state leakage test, in the 1980s. Though California’s regulations are among the strictest in the nation, they have been loosened over time.In 2021, for example, the state legislature adopted rules allowing for wood coated with toxic metals like chromium and arsenic to be taken to nonhazardous waste facilities.Contaminated soil could be next. DTSC is working to identify regulatory or statutory avenues that would allow for soil that could be contaminated with heavy metals to be dumped at California landfills. To do so, the agency will need the cooperation of the state Water Resources Board and CalRecycle, which regulate nonhazardous waste landfills. Landfill owners would also need to volunteer to accept contaminated soil, according to the DTSC draft plan.The Board of Environmental Safety, a five-member committee that provides oversight of DTSC, will host a series of public meetings on the state’s hazardous waste plan. The board is scheduled to vote on whether to approve the plan in July.Environmental advocates say the plans will likely face stiff opposition.“If we need more disposal capacity, maybe we should be requiring everybody to have the same standards as a hazardous waste landfill,” said Lapis, the advocacy director for Californians Against Waste. “Deregulation is not the right solution, the fact that they’re even proposing it is kind of crazy to me.”

Chicken manure can be classified as industrial waste, judge rules

US-style mega-farms in Herefordshire face tough new regulations after high court rulingIndustrial poultry farms face tough new regulations around the disposal of chicken manure after a judge ruled it can be classified as waste and requires a detailed and transparent plan to dispose of it without damaging the environment.The high court ruling means new US-style mega-farms in Herefordshire will have to deal with poultry manure as if it was industrial waste. Continue reading...

Industrial poultry farms face tough new regulations around the disposal of chicken manure after a judge ruled it can be classified as waste and requires a detailed and transparent plan to dispose of it without damaging the environment.The high court ruling means new US-style mega-farms in Herefordshire will have to deal with poultry manure as if it was industrial waste.The ruling has implications for industrial chicken units all over the country. It comes as the English and Welsh governments announced £1m in funding to investigate the devastating pollution of the River Wye, where about 23m chickens are being produced in the river catchment at any one time.The health of the river, which flows for 155 miles from mid-Wales to the Severn estuary in England, has been downgraded by Natural England from “unfavourable-improving” to “unfavourable-declining”, meaning its condition is poor and worsening. Its decline has been linked to intensive chicken farming in the catchment from the spreading of poultry manure, which contains high levels of phosphate, on to fields, which then leaches into the river.Studies have shown 70% of the phosphate in the River Wye catchment comes from agriculture, although not all is chicken-related. One study recommended an 80% reduction in poultry manure in the Wye catchment to protect the river and called for a cut in the overall number of birds and for the exporting of manure out of the area.The high court judgment defining chicken manure as industrial waste came after the National Farmers’ Union challenged waste rules set by Herefordshire council.The NFU said poultry manure should be treated as an agricultural byproduct, not as waste under the waste framework directive.But Mrs Justice Lieven in her ruling said it cannot be assumed that manure will be used in an environmentally safe way. Given the environmental problems caused by chicken manure in the Wye catchment area, she rejected the NFU challenge and said poultry manure amounted to “waste” in law up to the point it was sold or transferred to a third party.The ruling means that new chicken units in Herefordshire will have to provide a detailed plan at the planning application stage to ensure chicken manure can be disposed of safely, including full transparency on the manure’s destination and application.The campaign group River Action, which intervened in the case, said the ruling was a landmark decision that had implications for all new industrial chicken units.skip past newsletter promotionThe planet's most important stories. Get all the week's environment news - the good, the bad and the essentialPrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.after newsletter promotionCharles Watson, the chair of River Action, said: “We believe the ruling clarifies once and for all that the intensive factory production of livestock is clearly an industrial manufacturing process, whereby the often-toxic waste that it produces must be treated as such.”Carol Day of Leigh Day, who acted for River Action, said: “People proposing new intensive poultry units in Herefordshire will need to put in place proper arrangements for dealing with the huge volumes of manure that is produced. The judgment should also now mean that proper environmental controls are put in place across the country to oversee the production and handling of manure from animals on farms.”

Suggested Viewing

Join us to forge
a sustainable future

Our team is always growing.
Become a partner, volunteer, sponsor, or intern today.
Let us know how you would like to get involved!

CONTACT US

sign up for our mailing list to stay informed on the latest films and environmental headlines.

Subscribers receive a free day pass for streaming Cinema Verde.
Thank you! Your submission has been received!
Oops! Something went wrong while submitting the form.