by Carey Gillam
Infante, who lives in the Virginia suburbs within a short drive of the EPA offices, was outraged at the agency’s actions. He had served as an expert on an unrelated scientific panel only a year prior for the EPA without issue. “Can you think of one other chemical that has more impact—economic and other—than glyphosate? That’s why I’m not on the panel. Monsanto didn’t want me on there and they figured out a way to get me off,” he said.
Monsanto and others in the agrochemical industry elite often act like “bullies,” according to Infante. “If scientists have a lot of integrity, then they try to destroy them,” he said. “We live in a society of risks, and in a free society a person should be able to make an informed choice based on knowledge of the risks. But the industry tries to obscure the knowledge. How can the public even hope to get independent scientific findings?”65
When the EPA held the SAP meetings in mid-December 2016, Infante showed up anyway. Before being removed from the panel, he had spent countless hours going through the research, and he wanted to make sure his observations were heard. He asked the EPA to allow him to speak during the public comments portion of the meeting and was told he could have ten minutes. He dressed conservatively for the occasion, in a dark suit and shirt, but added a splashy bright orange and silver tie. He made no mention of his treatment by the EPA when delivering his public remarks and focused only on what he said were significant findings in the epidemiology data. Looking every bit the professor with his manicured gray goatee, wire-rimmed glasses, and a somewhat unruly mound of thinning curls atop his head, Infante commanded rapt attention from the other scientists as he conveyed his analysis. His conclusion, he told the other panel members, was “impressive evidence” of ties between NHL and glyphosate. He told the group that the epidemiological data showed that glyphosate should be considered a likely human carcinogen.
“There is clearly the evidence for the risk of non-Hodgkin lymphoma related to glyphosate exposure,” Infante said. “Is it conclusive? No, I don’t think so. But I think that EPA is concluding that there is no evidence. And that’s exactly wrong.”66
Several members of the Scientific Advisory Panel had their own concerns about the EPA’s dismissive view of some of the data showing links to cancer, and they said as much during the public meetings. Some scientists said they were concerned that the EPA was violating its own guidelines in discounting data from various studies that show positive associations between glyphosate and cancer. And some questioned why the EPA excluded some data that showed statistical significance and wrote off some of the positive findings to mere chance. Monique Perron, a scientist in the Health Effects Division of the EPA’s Office of Pesticide Programs, tried to explain away the concerns, telling the assembled scientists that “professional judgment” played a role in looking at the “weight of evidence” from various studies.
Still, panel member Lianne Sheppard, assistant chair in the Department of Environmental and Occupational Health Sciences at the University of Washington School of Public Health, said there was enough epidemiological evidence linking glyphosate to NHL to support a “suggestive” causal connection. Individually, the studies may not contain strong evidence of a connection between glyphosate exposure and NHL, but when looked at together, they do, she said. “Clearly, it’s suggestive to me, and it’s the most appropriate public health conclusion to reach,” she said.
Panelist Kenneth Portier, a statistician with the American Cancer Society and brother to IARC advisor Christopher Portier, noted the split between the scientists on how to weigh the research. “Rarely does a panel disagree as much as this one,” Portier said.67
Aside from the discussions of the science, some onlookers questioned whether the EPA gave nonindustry experts fair time. During what the EPA deemed the “public comments” part of the agenda, Monsanto representatives were granted roughly three and one-half hours to argue their case for glyphosate safety, and several other agrochemical industry players were allowed lengthy presentations as well. In comparison, most critics of glyphosate had comment periods that ranged from five to fifteen minutes. EPA spokesman Steven Knott said that assignments of speaking allotments were based on how much time commentators asked for, but some glyphosate opponents said they were told they could not have more than a few minutes.
Monsanto used its time to present a defense of glyphosate’s value to agriculture, to offer detailed explanations for why IARC’s analysis was flawed, and to explain why the company believed that a host of data points found in various studies should be discounted or are not relevant. Company representatives also argued that glyphosate residues found in numerous urine tests were nothing to worry about and actually helped show that the chemical does not bioaccumulate in the human body. They also said reports of glyphosate residues found in human breast milk were “implausible.”
Any doubts the EPA or its scientific advisors might have had about how much attention the public was paying to the meetings disappeared as several members of consumer and environmental groups showed up to implore the EPA to restrict or ban the chemical. Kathy Blum, a “concerned mother” from Leesburg, Virginia, and a member of the Moms Across America group, was one of the first to take the microphone, her voice rising as she made her plea. “Glyphosate is everywhere. It’s in our air, our water, our soil, our food, our beverages, it’s in mothers’ breast milk,” she told the panel. “Children are exposed to glyphosate in many areas, playgrounds, parks, ballfields, and their own backyards. Glyphosate has been found in tap water, our children’s urine. Any amount of glyphosate is unacceptable. By allowing glyphosate-based herbicides to be sprayed on our food and feed crops you are allowing America to be poisoned through our food and water. All of us are guinea pigs in this horrendous toxic experiment. You have an opportunity now to stop this. Our lives depend on it.”
A poignant moment also came when Alexis Baden-Mayer, a lawyer with the Organic Consumers Association, read aloud letters to the EPA written by people blaming Roundup for lymphomas that struck them or their family members. One letter was written by Vicky Laybourne, whose husband, Paul, died of central nervous system lymphoma after years of exposure to Roundup. Vicky and Paul had been married for forty-three years and were happily settling into semiretirement when Paul became sick. Vicky, who lives in Smithville, Missouri, couldn’t attend the EPA meetings in person, but she wanted the EPA to know what her family went through when the cancer was found in Paul’s brain and he died in September 2012. “I wasn’t aware how widespread this was,” she told me. “These companies need to be held accountable.”68
The EPA meetings even drew theatrics as a New York–based activist known as the Reverend Billy Talen, who leads a group of self-proclaimed “earth-loving urban activists,” took his turn at the microphone. Accompanied by fellow activist Robin Laverne Wilson, who goes by the moniker Dragonfly, Talen told the EPA and scientific advisors that his group had created a national map of parks and playgrounds where glyphosate is used to aid parents who want to avoid exposure to the chemical. “There is a political cloud hanging over this room, this proceeding,” he said. Clad in a minister’s dark robe and white collar, Talen told the EPA and scientists that they should “pull the curtain back” and expose the political pressure that Monsanto applies to keep glyphosate on the market. “We ask you to free yourself from this tremendous prejudice that has kept this toxin in so many of our homes, in our bodies, in our food, in our air.” When Talen and his group exhausted their allotted five minutes, they launched into song, repeating a solemn, hymnlike refrain: “Monsanto is the devil. No glyphosate.”
When the meeting was over, panel members wrote a final report to the EPA that said they could not fully agree with the EPA’s view of glyphosate safety. While some agreed that evidence of carcinogenicity was lacking, other panel members felt the research did “suggest a potential for glyphosate to affect cancer incidence.” And the group agreed with many critics who said that the EPA was improperly discounting the findings of some studies. “Man
y of the arguments put forth” by the EPA as supporting glyphosate safety “are not persuasive,” panel members concluded.69 As of this writing, however, the EPA has done nothing to rein in the use of glyphosate, and its final risk assessment—initially due out in 2015—is still pending.
The EPA’s actions are particularly vexing to many who believe the agency is relying on outdated, industry-funded research and undue industry guidance in making its determinations. And they fear the public is suffering for it.
“Glyphosate is a very effective herbicide … but it should be extremely restricted,” said Thierry Vrain, a soil biologist and genetic scientist who spent thirty years working for Canada’s national agricultural department. “The stupidity of having it in the crops is madness and the level of exposure to people is unacceptable. The residues in the food are probably responsible for a lot more damage to humans than anything else.”
Vrain did not come easily to his criticism. In fact, he was a longtime defender of technological advances in agriculture. During graduate school in North Carolina in the 1970s, Vrain learned all about the wide range of pests and pathogens that can lay ruin to a critical crop, so he was particularly enthusiastic when genetically engineered crops were introduced that could resist harmful pests, and he held faith that the biotech companies would do as they promised and develop disease-resistant crops as well. All he really knew about the Roundup herbicide that so many farmers were using with these GMOs and other crops was that “Roundup was supposed to be the best thing on earth,” Vrain recalls. “‘It was wonderful,’ everyone said.”70
When Vrain retired from the agriculture department in June 2003, he had so much time on his hands that he took up gardening and started learning more about organic agriculture. He began to examine how the prevalent use of Roundup might be more perilous than many people suspected. Vrain pored over scientific journals and obscure studies examining glyphosate, and what he found disturbed him so much that he pushed aside the relaxation of retirement to take on an activist’s role, working to convince Canadian and U.S. regulators of what he sees as serious human and environmental hazards.
Regulators have simply become too entwined with corporate interests to be objective about the high-dollar products pushed by the powerful chemical industry, Vrain believes. “Everybody can be influenced,” he said. “Corporations have a lot of money, and they know how to work the system.”71
CHAPTER 6
Spinning the Science
For every scientist who raises a concern about a product, there seems to be a corporation to contradict him (or her). We’ve seen this happen again and again. Tobacco industry executives famously hid research done by their own scientists that showed the hazards of cigarettes, and they misled lawmakers and regulators about the addictive properties of nicotine. Many other corporate powers, including those in the agro-chemical industry, have long histories of defending themselves against claims that they covered up the dangers of injury from asbestos, polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs), Agent Orange, or other chemicals.
DuPont has spent the past several years in an ongoing battle against more than 3,000 lawsuits alleging the company knew that a chemical called perfluorooctanoic acid, commonly known as PFOA, could cause disease but hid that knowledge for decades even as its PFOA contaminated West Virginia water supplies.1 And Dow AgroSciences spent years fighting mightily to stop the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) from banning an insecticide tied to brain damage in children.
Like any corporation, Monsanto Company does not shy away from zealously using its money, power, and political sway to promote its products and defend them against criticism. That is to be expected. But with Monsanto and its allies in the agrochemical industry, the propaganda playbook has many different chapters—and some are intentionally hard to read.
A common tactic is to funnel industry messaging through individuals who appear to be independent of industry and who carry a gloss of expertise and acclaim that gives them credibility with consumers, lawmakers, and regulators. These “experts” appear unaffiliated with industry and thus unbiased. What the public doesn’t know is that behind the scenes, corporations are often funding and collaborating closely with these very same professors and other professionals who tout propaganda that serves industry interests. It’s all part of a strategy of spin that has been used by the tobacco industry, the soft drink industry, pharmaceuticals, and, of course, agriculture.
These closeted collaborations make it difficult for consumers to know whom to trust and what to believe. And the rule appears to be “The less transparent, the better.” Several examples have come to light only because of records obtained through Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests and investigations by journalists and consumer and environmental groups. What the records clearly show is a roster of U.S. academics—people employed by taxpayer-funded institutions—quietly working with Monsanto, other agrochemical companies, and public relations experts to tout the benefits of company products, to counter anything that points to problems with glyphosate or glyphosate-tolerant crops, and to cripple unfavorable legislation or regulation. The ties to the industry are typically not disclosed as these people sell the story the corporations want told.
One example of the hidden corporate hand at work dates back to 2013, when Monsanto wanted to procure “policy briefs” supportive of the company’s interests that appeared to be unaffiliated with the company. The plan was laid out by Monsanto’s chief of global scientific affairs, Eric Sachs, in an e-mail to nine prominent academics, including a professor at the prestigious Harvard Kennedy School. Sachs told the professors he hoped each would help with an initiative to promote the “safety and benefits” of genetically modified organisms (GMOs), and he assigned each a topic and background materials. Harvard professor Calestous Juma was asked to write an article laying out the “consequences of rejecting GM crops.” Each brief “should be about 4–6 pages in length and include key themes and messages related to the specific topic, recommendations, and a call to action” aimed at a broad audience that included policy makers and regulators, Sachs told the professors.
“The key to success is participation by all of you—recognized experts and leaders with the knowledge, reputation and communication experience needed to communicate authoritatively to the target groups. You represent an elite group whose credibility will be strengthened by working together…. You are the best possible messengers,” Sachs wrote.2
Sachs told the group that an organization called the American Council on Science and Health would run the project in partnership with a public relations consulting group. The plan was for the two organizations to coordinate the publishing and promotion of the articles, setting up speaking engagements, webinars, and other events. Sachs said he was aware that the professors’ reputations “must be protected” and that “Monsanto wants the authors to communicate freely without involvement by Monsanto.” By December 2014, the articles Monsanto had asked for were circulating, though without any mention that they came at Monsanto’s behest.3 Juma’s article hewed closely to Monsanto’s suggestions. The connections came to light only when the e-mail communications were obtained through FOIA requests from the consumer advocacy group U.S. Right to Know and reported by several news outlets. For his part, Juma told the Boston Globe that he may have used “bad judgment” but didn’t intend to hide Monsanto’s ties. He received no money for the work and was true to his own views, he said.4
Another prime example of hidden alliances has come to be known as the “Séralini affair.” Gilles-Eric Séralini was a professor of molecular biology at the University of Caen Normandy when he published a study in September 2012 in a scientific journal called Food and Chemical Toxicology (FCT) about the effects of Roundup herbicide and Roundup Ready corn on 200 rats. Publication in a journal such as FCT requires a lengthy process in which experts unrelated to the study review it and can ask questions and seek revisions before it is published. This peer review process is meant to curb publication of flawed
research.
Séralini had spent two years and more than $3 million working with seven other scientists to study how the genetically modified corn and the herbicide impacted the animals’ health. At the time, Séralini was also president of a scientific advisory board that worked with a group opposed to GMOs. He believed there were potential problems with GMOs and Roundup that had not yet been uncovered by the scientific research that was largely funded by the chemical industry. Séralini and his team had seen troubling results in previous studies, including evidence that Roundup herbicides containing POEA along with glyphosate were much more harmful than glyphosate alone, causing cell damage at levels expected to be found in food.5
Groups of rats were evaluated by the Séralini team in the 2012 study. The rats were divided into males and females. Some were fed genetically engineered corn; others consumed corn sprayed in the field with Roundup; and others were given Roundup in drinking water in different doses, with the lowest corresponding to levels found in some tap water. The intermediate dose was set at the maximum level permitted in the United States in animal feed, and the highest dose was correlated to half the strength of Roundup as used in agriculture. Control group rats were fed a diet containing non–genetically engineered corn and plain drinking water.