65 Ways to Overprotect Ourselves

Power to the Peeples is an exclusive Earth911 series written by Bob Peeples, our resident chemical engineer and Program Manager of Earth911’s sister site Beaches911. Bob combines his extensive knowledge of the environment and how things work with an off-the-cuff sense of humor.

When we see an astronaut floating peacefully in space, we don’t realize that he should be hanging on better because his true speed is about 30,000 miles per hour. I have to admit that I live a dangerous lifestyle, too—I sleep every night in Phoenix traveling at about 21,000 miles per hour on the outside of a spinning sphere, without a safety belt—I’m crazy that way.

This speed conundrum has to do with Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, where properties depend on a particular point of reference. We may move slowly in relation to objects around us, but factor in the speed of our environment and the coyote is moving just about the same speed as the roadrunner. You can use this same idea of “relativity” when worrying about our health.

We tend to warn ourselves to death; and I mean that literally. A classic example is California’s Proposition 65: “The Safe Drinking Water and Toxic Enforcement Act of 1986,” a ballot initiative in November 1986. I’ll repeat: this was a ballot initiative. No lobbyists called for it, nor was it the result of underhanded buddy-deals by politicians. Californians voted for it on a ballot, and it’s been around ever since.

Under Prop 65, the State publishes a list of chemicals known to cause cancer or birth defects, updated once a year. It has over 750 chemicals now, and businesses are required to place a warning label on any product that contains one of these chemicals.

But what if the material contained so exposure to it is impossible? Take the example of talc:

• Sure, if I work in a talc mine for several years, I stand a good chance of developing lung problems from silicosis if I don’t wear proper breathing protection. But what about when I buy paint that adds talc for ease of application; does it really need a label to warn me of the silicosis hazard of inhaling a powder that’s now trapped in the paint forever?
• The guy who added it at the factory needs to know about the hazard, but once he adds the talc to paint, it really isn’t ever jumping back out.
• Talc is of the same “silica” mineral as sand (and asbestos, for that matter)—you could eat it all day and if none got inhaled, you would be just fine.
• For that matter, why don’t beer bottles carry Prop 65 labels because glass is also made from the same mineral?

This fear is not just limited to California. Take the case of asbestos on a Federal level. Again in 1986, we decided that our children were in danger of breathing asbestos fibers and dying. Some were at risk, but we forgot about relativity again.

The law itself considers friability; the ability to crumble a material and release airborne fibers, and was enacted mostly because of asbestos insulation used in places like school heating ducts. The result: in more than 100,000 schools in the country, we spent up to $400 per hour to inspect and remove asbestos from floor tile and asphaltic roofing material. But the asbestos is only harmful if it crumbles, and it’s pretty tough for something to crumble when it’s sealed in tar. Now the only way that you can be exposed to asbestos is to go outside—remember that it’s not a chemical fume, but only a rock.

Now every can of paint has a Prop 65 warning for the talc content. With the influence of the internet, we will probably soon see Prop 65 labeling of every plastic pail of paint soon for bisphenol A, or phthalates, or furans, or whatever the plastic scarelore of the week is.

As we continue to camouflage the labeling landscape on containers with more and more useless warnings (and multiple translations), people tend to get thick‑skinned. Why label at all if so few people believe that the warning labels ever identify a threat worth reading about?

Worse yet, when there is a very real threat, how do we protect the public from dismissing it along with all of the ridiculous warnings that they have learned to ignore?

That’s where we really are protecting ourselves to death. Luckily I can still sleep easy while flying through space at 21,000 miles an hour—I understand relativity.