From Lead

Water Color

​Water Sector Reform #5: Environmental Justice

​Photo credit: EJCW.org

With a major federal investment in water infrastructure possibly on the horizon, the United States has a once-in-a-generation opportunity to leverage that money into a structural transformation of America’s water sector. This is the last in a series of posts outlining broad proposals to reform the management, governance, and regulation of U.S. drinking water, sewer, and stormwater systems. The first proposed reform was consolidation of water utilities; the second was an overhaul of financial regulation; the third was investment in information technology; the fourth was investment in water sector human capital.

​My fifth proposal is to build environmental justice into federal water regulations.

The face of drinking water in the United States.

Drinking water & environmental justice

It’s difficult to overstate just how much the Flint Water Crisis changed the national conversation on drinking water. As I’ve observed before, Flint’s water contamination wasn’t the first, or worst, or largest drinking water crisis in America in recent years, but for it’s the one that put a spotlight on water infrastructure. Last month a similar lead contamination in Newark grabbed headlines across the country again.

The lead contamination crises in Flint, Newark, and elsewhere turned the spotlight on an uncomfortable reality: America’s water systems problems are not just about infrastructure management, they’re also about institutional politics, race, ethnicity, and poverty. There’s a growing recognition that water infrastructure is an environmental justice issue. That’s expanded the political coalition interested in water infrastructure and raised the stakes in the politics of drinking water.

The color of drinking water

Anecdotes and case studies about drinking water and environmental justice abound. Looking for more rigorous evidence, David Switzer and I conducted the first nation-wide analysis of the relationships between race, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, and Safe Drinking Water Act (SDWA) compliance. Here’s what we found:

The red areas of the graph show high likelihood of drinking water violations, the blue areas show low likelihood. ​These results ​ provide strong evidence of a systemic injustice in utilities serving low-income communities of color across the United States. In communities with higher populations of black and Hispanic individuals, SDWA health violations are more common. What’s more, race and ethnicity seem to matter most in determining drinking water quality in the poorest of communities. My analysis of public experiences with drinking water service also reveals important disparities by race and income. The racial disparities are far, far worse in Indian Country. My study with Mellie Haider and David Switzer found that Clean Water Act violations are 23% higher and SDWA violations are 59% higher on tribal facilities compared with non-tribal facilities.*

The reasons for these racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic disparities in water quality and utility service are varied and complex. In some cases it’s a familiar tale of urban de-industrialization and white flight; in others it’s a legacy of racial discrimination in housing or infrastructure development programs. Environmental injustices in drinking water aren’t just urban phenomena, either: majority-black and majority-Hispanic communities suffer from poor water quality across vast swaths of rural America—to say nothing of Indian Country.

Unfortunately, the regulatory response to ongoing water quality problems in poor, minority communities is to loosen regulations or look past violations. Outsiders to the water sector are sometimes surprised to learn that there are no federal laws requiring racial, ethnic, or socioeconomic equity in water quality.  

Environmental justice

If we are going to pour hundreds of billions of federal dollars into water infrastructure, that money must bring us closer to environmental justice. My final water sector reform proposal, then, is to build environmental justice into federal water regulations. That means, at a minimum:

  • Establishing standard metrics to assess racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic equity in environmental conditions and infrastructure investments. I’m working on some new​ environmental equity metrics that I hope to put into practice soon.
  • Utilities must collect and publicly report data on service shutoffs and restorations.
  • Regulators must demonstrate racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic equity in inspections and enforcement actions.

Eligibility for all federal infrastructure funding must be contingent on utilities demonstrating equity in conditions, investment, and administration, or adequate progress toward that goal. Extra funding and technical assistance should be targeted at communities that suffer from significant disparities due to historical or structural disadvantages—most obviously tribal systems.

Together with the other systemic reforms I’ve proposed, this commitment to environmental justice can rebuild trust in America’s water systems and build a broad political coalition in support of investment in the nation’s most essential infrastructure.



*We’ve got more research on tribal water issues in the, er, pipeline.

Environmental injustice in rural America often come as a surprise to big city folks, who often seem to think that “rural” means “white.” Racial/ethnic disparities in water quality don’t surprise anyone who’s spent time in South Texas, Northern Arizona, or Alabama’s Black Belt.

Hyperopia at the tap

hyperopia (hīˌpə-rōˈpē-ə). n. A condition in which visual images come to a focus behind the retina of the eye and vision is better for distant than for near objects

Last week I had the pleasure of speaking at the Connecticut AWWA’s annual conference. There I shared a the stage with a team from Providence Water, who told the story of their city’s struggles with lead contamination in drinking water. One of the most surprising things about Providence’s experience is the way that its customers apparently responded to the Flint water crisis.

Lead in Providence

Lead contamination in drinking water is a long-standing problem in Providence. Like many older American cities, Providence has many buildings with lead plumbing. As in Flint, Providence’s water system requires careful corrosion control in its treatment process to limit the release of lead into the drinking water supply. Lead contamination has been detected consistently in Providence’s water system since testing began in 1992—usually hovering just below EPA’s action level of 15 ppb—but it spiked to 30 ppb in 2009 and again in 2013, prompting increased regulatory scrutiny.* According to last week’s presentation, at least one Providence test site yielded lead contamination greater than 200 ppb—far higher than the levels that sparked outrage in Flint. Unlike Flint, where leaders denied and obfuscated lead contamination, Providence has publicly acknowledged and taken steps to address the issue: they’ve changed maintenance protocols and treatment methods, and introduced programs to replace lead service lines in its system.

As part of that effort, in 2014 Providence Water began offering drinking water lead testing for $10 to any customer who wanted it (earlier this year they started offering testing for free). In providing this service the utility also gathers valuable data on its own system. Initial participation in this voluntary testing regime was moderate, with an average of 4.7 customers requesting testing each month over the first two years of the program.

Hydro hyperopia

Then something unexpected happened in 2016: Participation in Providence’s lead testing program skyrocketed—after the Flint Water Crisis grabbed national headlines. Water contamination in Flint made Americans everywhere reconsider what comes out of their own taps. The figure below plots monthly voluntary lead testing in Providence from 2014-2017 (blue line); the utility mails its testing brochure in the May/June billing cycle, and so testing jumps in June and July each year.** The graph also shows monthly average Google News Index for coverage of the lead crisis in Flint (red line). Providence Water’s own lead contamination issues emerged in 2009, but when Flint put drinking water into the national spotlight in 2016, Providence citizens took action locally.

Are the people of Providence responding to events in Flint? It’s impossible to be certain, but the circumstantial evidence is strongly suggestive. A lead crisis 700 miles away apparently caused a 400% increase in lead testing participation by focusing Rhode Islanders’ attention on the contamination that they’d been living with for decades.

Focusing event

The water crisis in Flint is the Cuyahoga River fire of our generation: an event that thrust a widespread but underappreciated problem into the national consciousness. Political scientists call these focusing events: harmful, high-profile occurrences that suddenly put previously obscure issues onto the public policy agenda. One important consequence of the newfound attention to drinking water quality is that citizens everywhere think differently about their own utilities and drinking water. They may not deserve it, but utilities everywhere must now grapple with the Flint Water Crisis’ awful legacy. The effects of the Flint Water Crisis on the people of Providence, Rhode Island show such events afar can transform citizens’ interactions with their own local governments.

*No level of lead is healthy according to the CDC, especially for young children.

**Thanks to Providence Water for providing these data.