This is *The Stepback*, a carefully crafted weekly newsletter designed to unpack and analyze one pivotal story emerging from the world of technology. It not only explores crucial developments in digital innovation but also examines how these changes intersect with broader issues such as environmental sustainability. Readers who are eager to stay informed about the delicate balance between technological advancement and ecological responsibility are encouraged to follow the reporting of environmental journalist Justine Calma. Each edition of *The Stepback* is delivered consistently to subscribers’ inboxes at 8:00 AM ET, ensuring timely access to expert insights. Those interested in joining this ongoing conversation can opt in to receive the newsletter directly.
Over the course of my work as an environmental journalist, certain stories have remained lodged in my memory, surfacing often because of their disturbing implications. One of the earliest and most impactful investigations that unsettled me concerned what scientists and regulators now commonly refer to as “forever chemicals.” The fascination and fear surrounding these substances stem from their extraordinary persistence in the environment and their equally concerning effects on human health.
Forever chemicals, technically identified as per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS), have been extensively deployed in manufacturing since the mid-20th century. Beginning in the 1940s, companies prized their versatility and resilience, incorporating them into products engineered to resist water, stains, and intense heat. Everyday objects offer countless examples, from grease-resistant food packaging and nonstick cookware to waterproof outdoor clothing and even undergarments designed to prevent leaks. Their utility stretches into the digital realm as well: certain subclasses of PFAS are incorporated directly into the electrolytes and binders of lithium-ion batteries, while others increasingly appear integral to processes in semiconductor fabrication. Alarmingly, as the United States seeks to revive its domestic semiconductor industry, researchers are uncovering just how entrenched these chemicals have become in chip production.
What makes PFAS particularly unique—and problematic—is their molecular architecture. The carbon–fluorine bond that characterizes them is among the strongest in all of organic chemistry. This chemical stability prevents the compounds from breaking down even when exposed to environmental extremes, which is why they persist in soil, water, and air for decades, if not centuries. Their longevity extends to biological systems as well: once in the human body, PFAS can remain for years before naturally diminishing. Worryingly, national health surveys conducted by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention since 1999 consistently demonstrate that most Americans already carry detectable levels of these compounds in their bloodstreams. Sources of exposure include consuming contaminated food or drinking water and, in some communities, simply residing near factories that release PFAS or working in facilities where these chemicals are routinely used.
Although researchers are still unraveling the full spectrum of health consequences associated with long-term exposure, evidence has already linked several of the most common PFAS compounds to serious medical conditions. Studies implicate them in certain cancers, including kidney and testicular, as well as cardiovascular concerns such as high blood pressure and complications for pregnant individuals, notably preeclampsia. Elevated cholesterol is another documented risk, among others that continue to emerge.
Mounting scientific concern has translated into legal and regulatory action. Companies, including major chemical producers like 3M, historically responsible for Scotchgard, and Dupont, celebrated for inventing Teflon, have been compelled through lawsuits to commit to scaling down or eliminating PFAS from their operations. This shift has had tangible results: levels of two particularly notorious PFAS varieties found in Americans’ blood have plummeted by 70 to 85 percent over recent decades as production and use declined. Complementing these corporate shifts, the Environmental Protection Agency has taken regulatory steps, including establishing formal limits on five of the most prevalent forever chemicals in drinking water.
Yet the challenge is far from resolved. PFAS is not a singular chemical but a vast family numbering in the thousands, each with slightly different properties and potential hazards. Moreover, replacement chemicals introduced as supposedly safer alternatives have sparked their own wave of health concerns, demonstrating how elusive effective substitution can be. Complicating matters further is a shifting political climate. Under President Trump’s administration, the EPA has signaled its intent to roll back certain drinking water protections, loosening compliance deadlines for some PFAS and rescinding rules for others. These moves come just as federal leaders pursue ambitious efforts to reshore semiconductor manufacturing following a global shortage that disrupted industries from automobiles to electronics—and at a time when artificial intelligence has heightened demand for cutting-edge chips even further.
For chemical companies such as Chemours, itself a spinoff from Dupont, this convergence of deregulation and rising demand presents opportunity. Public statements frame their materials, such as heat- and corrosion-resistant Teflon, as indispensable components of modern chip fabrication. The company has also invested in developing advanced cooling fluids for data centers, using two-phase immersion processes that typically employ PFAS. Consequently, Chemours has announced expansions at facilities in Fayetteville, North Carolina, and Parkersburg, West Virginia—sites already subject to controversy. The Fayetteville plant, for example, has previously been implicated in contaminating water supply wells, leading to a legally binding consent order in 2019. More recently, regulators in North Carolina mandated extended well testing for potentially affected households, and a federal judge ordered reductions in unlawful discharges into the Ohio River from the company’s West Virginia site.
Concerns extend well beyond one corporation. As new semiconductor fabrication plants break ground across the United States, communities and advocacy organizations worry about chemical exposure risks to both workers and nearby residents. This has prompted the Semiconductor Industry Association to form a dedicated PFAS Consortium, co-opting companies like Chemours and Dupont in a coordinated effort. The stated purpose is to brace the supply chain for inevitable regulatory interventions, though critics view it as proof of corporate awareness that forthcoming rules could disrupt chip manufacturing.
Political leadership, however, currently tilts the field in favor of industry. President Trump’s AI Action Plan emphasizes accelerating data center construction and semiconductor facility permitting by streamlining or eliminating traditional environmental reviews. Additional executive actions have granted exemptions to chemical manufacturers from rules implemented under President Biden. Reports have even surfaced that a former industry lawyer, now serving a senior role at the EPA, actively reversed prior policies designed to hold corporations accountable for PFAS contamination.
In public communications, EPA representatives maintain that the agency continues to hold polluters responsible, though regulatory uncertainty remains. Meanwhile, Chemours highlights investments in what it calls “state-of-the-art emissions control technologies,” asserting a commitment to reducing releases. Despite such assurances, legal challenges appear inevitable as regulators grapple with finalizing new standards. The irony is stark: while the EPA has historically struggled to adequately manage PFAS pollution, ongoing deregulatory initiatives risk exacerbating the problem at precisely the moment when demand for chips—and therefore reliance on PFAS—shows no signs of abating.
Cleaning up PFAS contamination is extraordinarily difficult due to the compounds’ exceptional chemical stability. Destroying them requires extreme heat—temperatures exceeding 700 degrees Celsius are often necessary to rupture the carbon–fluorine bonds that give them their near-indestructibility. Even incineration sometimes fails, with residues reentering the environment through air pollution. This persistence has had devastating consequences. For instance, firefighting foams containing PFAS have left a legacy of contamination across numerous U.S. military bases, endangering servicemembers even in domestic, non-combat settings.
Financial and legal reckoning is slowly unfolding. In August, chemical giants Chemours, Dupont, and Corteva reached a massive $875 million settlement with the state of New Jersey over historical pollution that included PFAS. Such cases underscore the growing recognition of the scope of responsibility these corporations bear, though the settlements themselves can feel like modest redress compared to the long-term societal and environmental costs.
PFAS tells a cautionary story about modern technology: the innovations that enable convenience, progress, and economic competitiveness also generate deeply entrenched environmental problems. As the U.S. doubles down on semiconductor manufacturing to secure its technological future, the question lingers: how can society ensure that the very chemicals enabling progress do not irreparably pollute the world we intend to improve?
Sourse: https://www.theverge.com/the-stepback-newsletter/772845/computer-chips-forever-chemicals
