The town motto of East Palestine, Ohio, is “The place you want to be!” But at present, nothing could be further from the truth. The Norfolk Southern train derailment that occurred in East Palestine earlier this month resulted in a chemical fire and spill large enough to prompt the evacuation of up to 2,000 residents. Several hazardous materials were inadvertently discharged into the air and water supply, followed by a purposeful “controlled release” to avoid further unwanted combustion. One of the primary chemicals of concern is vinyl chloride, a human-made, colorless gas used to make polyvinyl chloride or vinyl—the most commonly used polymer in building construction. According to the National Cancer Institute, vinyl chloride exposure is associated with cancers of the liver, brain, and lungs, as well as leukemia and lymphoma. Now that East Palestine residents have been permitted to return to their homes, a new clinic has opened to address growing symptoms such as shortness of breath, headaches, and nose bleeds.
The East Palestine calamity has provoked a round of finger-pointing to highlight the true culprit of the incident, with Norfolk Southern and the U.S. Department of Transportation taking the bulk of the blame. But no one seems to be criticizing the chemicals themselves: If the 150-car train that derailed had been carrying nontoxic cargo, no evacuations would have been necessary, no animals would have died, and the water and air would have remained unpolluted. With no hazardous ingredients, the incident would have warranted a local news story instead of sparking a national uproar. It’s remarkable that, amid all the anger and speculation stoked by the catastrophe, few are questioning why hazardous chemicals like vinyl chloride have become common and acceptable substances in human society.
Presumably, we permit the existence of such toxic substances because they are established ingredients of industrial processes that enable our contemporary way of life. In the case of vinyl, proponents point to the high versatility of the material, particularly within the building industry. Critics have thus been compelled to seek viable, healthier alternatives. From 2002 to 2007, the Technical and Scientific Advisory Committee of the U.S. Green Building Council conducted a study to explore the potential benefits of offering a LEED credit for PVC-related material avoidance. Although the TSAC acknowledged the adverse health impacts of PVC in its report, the committee stopped short of pursuing incentives for reducing the use of vinyl, claiming the need for better material information and product alternatives to make informed decisions. (One might argue that a five-year study need not be required to recommend the avoidance of red-list chemicals, the “worst in class” hazardous substances, including PVC.)
Since the TSAC report, the building products industry has seen improvements in both material data and offerings, with a growing number of available nontoxic alternatives to PVC. This list includes Carnegie Fabrics’ Xorel, a polyethylene textile derived from sugar cane, an alternative to vinyl wall coverings; PEX piping instead of PVC pipes; BioEdge instead of PVC-based cabinetry edge-banding; and linoleum modular flooring versus vinyl tile. These surrogates may offer different characteristics than vinyl but are functionally equivalent as products. According to the Healthy Building Network, a Washington, D.C.–based non-profit, “There is virtually no use of PVC in building products that could not be replaced with another plastic or other material.”
A second rationale is cost. PVC is inexpensive, benefiting from long-established mass production methods, supply chains, and economies of scale. However, first-cost only tells part of the story. For example, although PEX piping is typically more expensive than the PVC variety, it requires less labor to install and thus could be comparable price-wise, depending on the application. Life cycle costs also must be considered. Polymers are generally perceived to be durable, but plastic products do not always exhibit the longevity their manufacturers claim. For example, vinyl siding—one of the most common building applications of PVC—melts and warps in the presence of heat and light reflections, requiring premature replacement. Most important is the consideration of life cycle impacts that include externalities, or side effects not accounted for in the original price, such as the significant evacuation and environmental cleanup costs necessitated by the East Palestine disaster. Another consequential externalized cost is the planetary-scale remediation effort required to remove massive quantities of plastic waste from the world’s oceans. As the HBN argues about PVC: “It’s not green. It’s not healthy. It’s not sustainable. It’s just cheap—for us.”
A third rationale (or excuse) is that toxic chemicals like vinyl chloride are permissible because they are handled according to strict safety requirements. But as the East Palestine disaster shows, there is no such thing as absolute safety. Despite the best of intentions, accidents occur with surprising frequency. Consider that 1,000 train derailments occur each year in the U.S. alone. And according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the country experiences thousands of oil and chemical spills annually. Practices might become incrementally safer over time, and processes can adhere to stricter standards—as the vinyl industry claims when it points to reduced incidents of manufacturing-related cancer in recent years (although data suppression has been a concern)—but relative arguments are weak. Why tolerate even a single toxic spill or case of hepatic angiosarcoma, a liver cancer, if they could have been avoided?
According to the Seattle-based organization Toxic-Free Future, “Everyone has the right to breathe clean air, drink safe water, eat healthy food, and live and work in toxic-free homes, buildings, and communities that are safe and healthy.” Unfortunately, hazardous substances like vinyl chloride were developed as experimental ingredients to advance industrialization efforts at a time when their full health effects were unknown. Now that we are aware of these severe impacts, our continued production of such toxic chemicals is morally problematic—particularly when sufficient or better options exist. Today, functionally equivalent alternative materials are widely available, at reasonable or better life-cycle cost, that pose significantly lower or no health risks when spills inevitably occur. It is time to replace 19th-century poisons like vinyl chloride in favor of vastly improved 21st-century ingredients. The end of PVC is near: We must retire vinyl and other red-list substances for good.
The views and conclusions from this author are not necessarily those of ARCHITECT magazine or of The American Institute of Architects.
Read more: The latest from columnist Blaine Brownell, FAIA, includes the year's buzziest material technology trends, the hydrogen economy, and the carbon footprint of material obsolescence.
