A Tale of Two Institutions:

Education and Environment

A brief history of the conflicting values and objectives of

schools and the environmental movement

American education administrators have found themselves caught between mismatched perspectives when confronting issues of environmental policy, whether for asbestos, radon, lead in water, underground storage tanks or, more recently, indoor air quality. It is important for them to calmly step back and gain perspective on the current status of their relationship to the environmental movement.

Through the years, the men and women entrusted with governance over the nation's schools have learned to deal with a wide spectrum of concerns, some far removed from "education" per se. School administrators of a hundred years ago had to confront the realities of cholera and typhus. Those of the 1950s had to deal with both the phobia and reality of polio and other diseases. Administrators of the '60s and early '70s faced issues of developmental disability and, today, school administrators are inundated with issues of environment as it relates to disease or discomfort within school buildings, problems that will escalate as we begin the 21st Century. This entwining of education and environment has sometimes been difficult and painful for those managing schools.

As educational systems have evolved and as environmental sensitivity and understanding have progressed, the two institutions have found it difficult to work in harmony, at great cost to school districts in terms of both money and stress. The conflict has infringed upon the general comfort and health of students and employees and has sometimes caused needless panic and overreaction.

School districts are not staffed to responsibly measure environmental risk on their own. They try to follow regulations as best they can, through their administrators, sometimes with buildings and grounds personnel or, occasionally, through help from a regional service cooperative or state agency. School staff sometimes find it difficult to understand all that this new type of environmental responsibility involves.

One Area of Conflict: Asbestos

In the late 1980s, asbestos concerns and regulations dominated the environmental thinking of schools. Massive removal of asbestos occurred in erratic patterns among many school districts. A carefully documented article on this issue appeared in early 1990 in The New England Journal of Medicine and was quickly followed by a more readable and widely distributed article in Science Magazine. The critical theme of these articles, which focused upon overreaction and waste in the name of "environment," was soon picked up by conventional media. Time, Newsweek, The New York Times, NBC, American Spectator, Forbes, Reader's Digest--addressed the many instances where the two institutions, education and environment, failed to work together. In this case, it was overreaction and mis-reaction based upon misunderstanding.

Speaking on September 7, 1990, regarding schools and national asbestos policy, EPA administrator William Reilly stated, "Many millions of dollars have been wasted on unnecessary asbestos removal operations." Most school asbestos programs were developed simply to achieve technical regulatory compliance; the task was seen as rather like working through a complicated tax form or an application for state matching funds. At one point, schools concluded that they were required to remove all asbestos in their buildings, while legislative intent was simply to have them rate the risk and develop a responsible plan for managing any such risks. The schools hired "federally certified" inspectors at the lowest possible price and set into motion a vicious cycle of filling out forms and contracting for removal. The insensitivity of schools, politicians and bureaucrats to the importance of risk assessment, which resulted in real risk to building occupants because of the plethora of poorly planned and executed abatement projects, was incomprehensible to public health and environmental risk assessment professionals.

Dr. Robert Sawyer, a physician-engineer who, as a faculty member of Yale, was one of the first to discuss and publish on the issue of exposure of building occupants to background levels of asbestos, considered the "remove all" response of schools to asbestos both unwise and wrong. John Pendergrass, former U.S. Undersecretary of Labor, termed it, "tragic and wasteful." Morton Cohn, Director of Environmental Health at Johns Hopkins Medical School, and B.J. Moseman, of the Pathology Department at the University of Vermont, vigorously criticized in print how schools were dealing with asbestos. In Michigan, John Schwarz, a respected physician and state senator, tried to promote legislation mandating risk assessments prior to abatement of asbestos in schools. This grassroots, commonsense approach was an honorable attempt to recapture the original public health essence of the law.

What started out to be a reasonable federal asbestos policy, carried out by able regional EPA administrators, in the end created a situation where money was wasted, people were endangered, and education and environment were both poorly served.

What Went Wrong

The public health/environmental community should not have been surprised. School administrators weren't trained in dose-response of carcinogens or how to rate risk from toxic exposures. They knew how to fill out federal forms, raise tax money or select a low bid contractor to pull asbestos out of their buildings, but they rarely knew how to monitor such risky construction. As the news media widely reported, the result was often an unwise use of resources and an increase in human risk from poorly executed removal or abatement projects. Neither of these professional disciplines was to blame; environmentalists and educational professionals just didn't know enough about working together--they approached the issue from completely different perspectives.

To understand the problem, it is necessary to understand the evolution of both environmental science and American education systems over the past 50 years.

1950 - 1960

Education

With the baby boom following World War II, school administrators found themselves facing crowded conditions. This meant immediate, rapid (panic) construction, and many schools were built with what was termed, "California construction" methods. Unlike older school buildings that had high ceilings to help dilute airborne contaminants, windows that could be opened and shut easily by teachers, and windows over doors to permit nearly perfect cross ventilation, these new buildings were temperature controlled "warehouses," built of solid brick, with stationary windows and a master thermostat for controlling air exchange. The new engineering was typically unresponsive to the local environment, e.g. a school building built in the desert in rural New Mexico was identical to one built beneath a Long Island turnpike. They came as close as they could to producing tight, buildings, and local building codes further reduced the minimum volume of air exchange required.*

In addition to changing the architecture, schools began massive use of the synthetic compounds created during the war to supplement threatened raw materials. Wood, stone and standard insulation were replaced by materials containing formaldehydes, asbestos, benzene and polymer products. Synthetics, new to both the construction industry and the human immune system, became the materials of choice for these new, tightened buildings.

*Codes for auxiliary air for sealed classrooms became known as the "make-up air system." Air could be recirculated and only 50% of fresh air needed to be reintroduced into the rooms. As the building boom continued and financial pressures evolved relative to energy costs, that ratio was lowered to 33% and finally to 25%.

Environment

During the 1950s, people became aware of "something" happening in terms of a relationship between health risk and synthetic/industrial environmental contamination.

Wilhelm Hueper, a physician with the National Cancer Institute, instinctively began to make projections regarding environmental exposures, disease and society. Although the data was scattered and unorganized, it was easy to see that cancer rates were rising, and fast. To Dr. Hueper, exposing humans and the environment to compounds with no genetic history of response represented inherent risk. He was eventually silenced by the National Institutes of Health, and was generally ignored by those making public policy. However, a select group of people did listen to and heed Dr. Hueper's warnings. This new breed of men and women scientists would one day be called "environmentalists."

1960 - 1970

Education

"Better living through chemistry," a slogan coined by DuPont Chemical, was a concept adopted by much of society. The educational community was no exception. It was unthinkable there could be a dark side to these wonderful new chemicals.

School buildings using the California architecture were labeled "entombed" buildings by environmentalists because of their "sealed-up" orientation and extensive use of synthetics. Compounds used in fluorescent light fixtures, switch boxes and transformers, polymers and formaldehydes on wallboard and in carpeting, and a variety of other potentially toxic materials were common throughout schools. Toxic compounds were infused into fine arts and industrial arts materials, including new generations of lead- and cadmium-based paints found in elementary art departments. Asbestos (a known carcinogen even then) was sprayed onto school structures and mixed into a broad range of school building products, from floor and ceiling tiles to thermal pipe insulation.

Schools, like the rest of the nation, were using high levels of new compounds that had a limited history of human exposure.

Environment

Rachel Carson, an oceanographer and poet, and supporter of Dr. Hueper, wrote a book lamenting the indiscriminate use of "new" chemicals in Western society, which she felt would result in a worldwide increase in disease. Silent Spring, published in 1963, jolted the public, and thoughtful people began questioning the viability of "better living through chemistry." Although her analytical data was shallow by today's standards, Carson produced enough information to effectively indict both the chemical industry for indiscriminately flushing compounds into the environment and public officials for being too myopic to comprehend what was happening.

There has been a 56% increase in cancer among Americans in the years since Silent Spring was published. Much of this increase (some say nearly all) has been attributed to advances in general health condition and health care. Fewer diseases are able to successfully compete to harm a larger population, so cancer looms as a larger, more visible risk. Consequently, fear of cancer began to threaten our sense of well being, and this powerfully influenced environmental policy in the 1960s.

The heightened awareness among scientists that was created by Hueper in the 1950s became a more universal sentiment in the mid-1960s through Rachel Carson's work. Public outrage grew in intensity and along with it came the emergence of a new term, "environmentalism."

Overreaction, as well as underreaction, to "environment" began to take its toll on the public health.

1970 - 1980

Education

During this decade, Americans faced the first oil shortage since the Second World War. It was symbolically patriotic and economically prudent to seal up buildings to save energy. Due to various state and federal programs, the already tightened school architecture dedicated itself to further entombment. Documented incidents of students fainting from lack of oxygen in school assembly rooms, and a set of symptoms that became identified as "sick building syndrome" (lethargy, headaches, dry throat, muscle pain), made it obvious that building occupants were simply not getting enough fresh air. The correlation between the general discomfort associated with sealed buildings and the drop in academic performance among students nationally was noted by environmentalists but did not seem to enter the consciousness of school administrators.

No one was more frustrated by sick building syndrome than building maintenance staff who were constantly struggling to secure enough "fresh air" to make classrooms comfortable. For them, working with a consistently inadequate air exchange system was like trying to use a hand towel as a blanket--no matter how they adjusted it, the resources were not adequate. There was a constant spiral of fresh air deficit and complaints of physical discomfort and even illness.

Environment

The 1970s were a romanticized but tragic period in environmental history. The so-called "green movement" began and environmentalism took on broad, heady definitions. "Environmentalism" became identified with anti-Vietnam War sentiment. Aesthetic social issues (saving whales and Victorian homes) became blended with causes that sometimes erupted in violent confrontation. The thoughtful scientific lament of Hueper and Carson degenerated into boisterous, radical theater. For instance, a corrupted version of the American flag, with a green and white motif, was displayed, upside-down, at demonstration sites, and stainless steel spikes were driven into redwood trees to injure lumbermen. Proposed environmental legislation was often impractical, sometimes because it was based on scientific illusion, sometimes because it failed to even minimally consider costs to the community. Such fantasy regulation became hopelessly confused with initiatives that had a sound and responsible environmental basis. In the backlash that quickly followed, public support for environmental policies degenerated.

Ronald Reagan successfully ran for president against environmentalists, whom he described as "crackpots that want us all living in birds' nests." Major institutions did not identify with the "environmentalism" of the ‘70s. Neither a school purchasing agent's order for lead-based finger paints nor a custodian's direction to an employee to mop up a spill from a capacitor seemed to have anything to do with "environment."

1980 - 1990

Education

At the beginning of this decade, schools were operating with little understanding of risk assessment or risk management. Environment and education were now on a clear collision course.

Most schools at this time were teaching environmental science, but school district policy concerning the environment had not progressed. Asbestos had begun to seriously degrade in school buildings, and epidemiological reviews implied that workers most exposed to asbestos in the workplace would likely develop higher rates of asbestos-related cancer. It was generally believed that exposure levels were far from dangerous in terms of dose or exposure, but by any reasonable risk assessment standard it was felt that the asbestos to which children were exposed during their school day should at least be monitored for safety.

The first environmental regulation to have an impact on schools involved polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs), the fire resistant fluid used to insulate most electrical equipment. This was followed by Hazard Communication (Employee Right-to-Know) regulations, requiring easy access to technical information on potentially dangerous chemicals to which an employee might be routinely exposed. Asbestos identification, risk assessment and risk management regulations soon evolved. School districts responded by simply finding the easiest path to compliance, usually without any meaningful public health consideration. Having little experience in public health issues, they read the regulations and followed them to the letter as inexpensively as they could. The asbestos mandate for risk assessment was poorly understood and, for many districts, became a mandate to remove. Hazard Communication laws were responded to similarly. Schools began to stockpile safety data sheets on every product used in their buildings. It soon became evident that this requirement was effectively impossible to meet and virtually meaningless, but many tried, at great expense and frustration. Crates of inaccessible and perpetually unused technical information were stored away and, unfortunately, clear public health perspectives never really found their way into a school's working applications. In a bizarre attempt to comply with statute, one school made overheads of their safety data sheets and had their employees sit before a screen while hundreds of these highly technical information sheets were flashed before their eyes. It was a matter of form, not function. The same pedantic approach was often applied to asbestos policy, followed by radon, lead, mercury, and infectious agents.

The popular media pointed out the lack of wisdom in asbestos policy long before it became apparent to schools. Most districts had staff skilled in writing asbestos removal contracts, but only a few were knowledgeable about their actual public health options.

The only "risk assessment" done with any frequency was a cursory evaluation of how "friable" the asbestos was, that is would it crumble under hand pressure.

Without clear direction, but with commendable concern for the safety of students and employees, districts began ordering mass removal of asbestos. The already shaky financial infrastructure of American schools received a needless broadside as the concept of safety through abatement became institutionalized. Worse, as the low-bid mindset prevailed in issuing abatement contracts, needless and dangerous contamination occurred with frequency.

Environment

The EPA chose schools as their first target for regulation because of the unhealthy environmental conditions often found within school buildings. Schools have a higher ratio of living tissue (students) with high metabolic rates and potential life years per square foot than almost any other type of building, so any contaminant entering the ambient air in such buildings would presumably do more damage over time. For diseases with long latency periods, such as those related to asbestos, radon or PCBs, there was prima facie increase of risk. This, compounded with the lack of fresh air in the generally tight buildings, appropriately made schools the number one target for environmental reforms.

What schools were not ready for was the cast of characters and methods the environmental establishment dropped on them. For instance, the protocol for major PCB spills was senselessly applied to even minor leaks from fluorescent lights; that law could not be complied with or enforced. Regarding asbestos, the EPA dutifully sent each school district in the country a new book each year, describing complex engineering controls. Year to year, the books were contradictory in specifics and theme, which made little difference since they were virtually never read.

Schools came to understand that environmental regulations were rarely enforced. As one school administrator put it, "they pretend to regulate, we pretend to comply." That stopped in the late 1980s when, inspired by horror stories of increased school contamination through botched abatement, asbestos regulations began to be more strictly adhered to and enforced. When states also began to enforce employee right to know laws, it became apparent to school administrators that compliance could not be achieved or safety maintained simply by keeping a box of inaccessible data sheets in some out-of-the-way fileroom. Planning for a safe environment was correctly moving into the real world of school administration. Environmental decisions moved from the boiler room to the conference table, and often to the board room.

1990-2000, and Beyond

Education

By now, it was clear that attention to environmental health and safety issues had to be bound into the operations of responsible school districts. Schools had been burned by asbestos and other regulations, but they had also come to realize that, in terms of civil and regulatory law and community concern, a greater sensitivity to risk was mandatory. An incredible, five-fold increase in asthma rates among youth was seen in some communities. Similarly, high blood lead counts in children living in communities with lead-based exposures were seen as a factor in lower SAT scores.

School board officials began running on environment-sensitive platforms and school districts understood that they had to institutionalize some level of environmental programming.

For smaller districts, school service agencies were often the source of supportive services. Quantity purchasing of environmental advice and counsel, as well as for environmentally friendly products, became the norm. Unions in some states began to argue for indoor air quality standards, and civil litigation also became part of the paradigm. "Environment" had moved from a romantic concept to an eccentric problem occasionally confronting administrators, to a fundamental part of school operations.

Indoor air quality was the most problematic issue. Physicians diagnosed asthma and other health issues as fundamentally relating to school building environment. Testing showed that microbes were infesting schools because of the sealed environments and presence of moisture, and revealed them to be a source of health consequences. Although professional environmentalists were rarely hired, most responsible school administrators designated staff or systems to deal with health, safety and environmental issues. The "environmental consultant" became as commonplace as an electrician or a plumber, but often they were not certified. Many believed the profession was far behind other services needed by schools. An asbestos worker was not necessarily capable of dealing with indoor air quality or mold abatement, let alone identifying and rating toxic exposures or high blood lead counts. Districts were not adequately prepared to deal with environmental issues and needed more informed support.

Environment

Perhaps the most dramatic change in environmental policy came with the evolution of state agencies in terms of regulatory law. Most states created complex infrastructures within their health departments or natural resources departments; often, independent state agencies were established to deal with environmental risk issues.

The second change in "environment" came with a sort of "segregation" of the environmentalists themselves.

To quote Ron Sando, former commissioner of the Minnesota Environmental Quality Board, then director of the Idaho Department of Natural Resources, "There are two kinds of environmentalists: the mystics, or druids, and the scientists. Neither, by itself, is of much value to those of us who have to work in the real world." There were clearly two camps of thinking regarding environmental regulation. To some, "environmentalism" was tied to what was termed, "deep ecology." For schools, true environmentalists wanted no carpeting, no organic food, no genetically engineered food products, extraordinary building hygiene, and reduced use of toxins, pesticides, herbicides and fungicides. There was among them a general willingness to blame any outbreak of disease or even discomfort on the environment of the building.

To scientists, hard data was lagging far behind environmental sentiments. The fact that a mold or fungus was growing in a school building meant almost nothing to them. They understood that we live in a sea of microbes, but they were typically unable to differentiate between microbes and microtoxins (sub-particles of microbes). If a relationship to asthma couldn't be proven, it would be implied. To scientifically oriented environmentalists, many issues that came to the forefront in terms of genetically engineered food, indoor air quality procedures, or recycling systems, had limited value. Matters such as lead exposure, asbestos exposure during construction, carbon monoxide infiltrating air handling systems, or use of toxic compounds in fine arts products, required technical expertise and response. These issues may be less glamorous but are more definable and real.

As we to move into the 21st Century, the education/environment paradigm is more difficult, in some ways, for administrators who are trying to navigate between the "druids" and the "scientists." Today, school districts perform risk assessments as a matter of course and make most decisions. They back up their decisions as completely as they can and are sensitive to public concern about what they are doing. The men and women who govern the nation's schools are foremost among the institutions needing to respond to new environmental challenges. They require the ability to sift reality out of what is often hyperbole. In the end, they control the ecosystem for what is most precious to the nation--its children. How the relationship between education and environment plays out over time depends entirely on the content of character, the intelligence, the public awareness and decision making ability of these administrators. They know that environmental issues are a part of their daily lives. How they work with them is the true challenge of these two institutions as we enter a new century.