Although the events detailed in the article “PFAS: History and Contamination” are not recent, the discovery of PFAS in Italy and the resulting danger remain highly relevant today.
Awareness of the problem dates back to 2017 when the results of the Health Surveillance Plan were published, revealing the presence of PFAS in the population living in the “red zone” in the province of Vicenza.
Following the 2017 study, a tangible sense of danger emerged. It was no longer safe even within one’s own home: “Every time you turn on the tap, you open your home to a violation,” is how Professors Luciano Zamperini and Marialuisa Menegatto describe the new reality in their book “Cattive acque, contaminazione ambientale e comunità violate” (“Bad Waters, Environmental Contamination, and Violated Communities”) focusing on the social impact of the 2017 events.
A thorough reading of the book led our team, MUTANS, to delve deeper into the social aspect of PFAS to enhance our project. Last December, we met with Professors Zamperini and Menegatto from the Department of Philosophy, Sociology, Pedagogy, and Applied Psychology (FISPPA) at the University of Padua to explore how PFAS have affected the social and psychological well-being of residents in the provinces of Vicenza, Verona, and Padua—areas most impacted by the contamination of these chemicals.
At the University of Padua, Professors Zamperini and Menegatto specialize in environmental psychology. They have taken on the task of telling the hidden story behind PFAS, publishing their book in 2021, with an introduction by Telmo Pievani.
But how did they become aware of the problem, and why did they decide to address it? They discovered it, like most ordinary citizens, following the 2017 Health Surveillance Plan. As scholars, they then decided to analyze the psychosocial impact on the community, establishing their research project in 2018.
In 2019, they began interviewing residents of the “orange zone” to create their first book, “Cattive acque.” The text was made available online for free from the outset, as the professors believed it was essential to make this knowledge accessible to all.
They feel privileged to be able to live by doing what they love and studying, thanks in part to the contribution of the people. They felt it was their duty to give back to the citizens the fruits of their research in this specific area. They add that environmental disasters are often not associated with specific victims; their task, however, is to identify these victims to bring justice by shedding light on their suffering. For the victims, knowing they are exposed to danger and living in an environment contaminated by a toxic substance is life-changing. The awareness of a potential threat impacts people even before the results of analyses are known, while they are still living in uncertainty.
Initially, the “Mamme NoPFAS” group was labeled as a collection of “hysterical housewives with chemophobia.” However, the professors amplified their voices and listened to their concerns.
How has the relationship between citizens and institutions changed? In 2017, a sentiment of distrust toward institutions and scholars arose among the residents of PFAS-contaminated areas, feeling betrayed by their inability to prevent and protect them from the problem. This distrust constitutes a significant obstacle: once trust is broken, everything collapses, and it becomes difficult to rebuild it.
PFAS have caused a disaster of human origin, which generates a greater psychological impact than a natural disaster. In the case of human-made disasters, the discussion turns to responsibility, actions taken, and hidden truths. The institutions adopted a paternalistic attitude toward citizens, withholding certain information to avoid causing too much concern and alarm. However, this approach led citizens to increasingly distrust institutions, and to obtain PFAS pollution data, they had to resort to legal action, questioning what else might have been hidden from them.
It is important to consider that an underlying state of distrust remains. For example, even Professors Zamperini and Menegatto, as scholars, were seen as authorities to be distrusted. However, once on-site, the professors worked to rebuild trust slowly, introducing themselves to the citizens and clearly stating their objectives. They believe it is crucial to always maintain respect, even if the parties involved disagree.
Even when carbon filters were installed in aqueducts to purify drinking water, people were immediately skeptical. They doubted they could truly be safe and continued to fear drinking contaminated water. This is because actions taken by authorities must be supported and involve citizens, especially when decisions directly affect them.
How can one communicate and establish a positive relationship with the public to gather the necessary information? Rebuilding trust was not easy for the professors either, who suggest following the paradigm of citizen science, in which citizens are not merely seen as victims but as resources that can provide important information to complete the understanding of vast issues, such as PFAS pollution.
Residents of PFAS-contaminated areas had to seek information on their own, often becoming more knowledgeable than some general practitioners about the consequences of PFAS exposure. For instance, one mother told the professors that she studied the PFAS phenomenon and its implications all day, and many others were the first to inform their own doctors when this issue was still largely unknown.
And how can we, the MUTANS team, approach our project, given that it involves the use of engineered bacteria? The professors remind us that there is no ideal world and that consensus is never total, regardless of the action taken. It is part of the process; when you step out of academia into the world, you must also consider the reality that some people may disagree with you. For example, the world of GMOs was likely misrepresented in the past, and we still feel the consequences today.
Researchers do not jump directly into the field but proceed step by step, trying to identify the key nodes in a communication network. For example, in the case of PFAS, the key nodes are precisely the parents. When the first round of the Health Surveillance Plan was conducted, there was a 60% participation rate. The questions then are: why didn’t the rest participate? What are they thinking? They, too, are an important part of the citizenry.
How has the situation among the population changed from 2017 to today? There was certainly a peak of protest in 2017 to express their anger, which becomes constructive when it brings benefits to the community, serves to make noise, and draws the attention of institutions.
The initial protest in the streets evolved into a more constructive form of demonstration, leading to concrete results. Some parents became consultants at technical tables in the Ministry for the issuance of laws on PFAS limits; others traveled to Brussels; territorial meetings were organized (e.g., a meeting last year with lawyer Billot from the United States, who had previously followed the DuPont trial); fundraising efforts for research and translations were initiated. Professor Menegatto herself conducted a training course for 40 journalists on the PFAS situation, accompanied by a mother who shared her personal experience.
Thus, a movement was built that became increasingly complex and significant in producing results. It was a process that matured over time and continues to grow today. It is important to note and reflect on how it all started with a denial of the problem (the mothers were labeled as “hysterical housewives with chemophobia”) and has now reached one of the largest environmental disaster trials.
Author: Sabrina Salmaso