I’ve become convinced that my odds of developing cancer are growing with each day I stay here in the US. It all started with a single Granny Smith apple. I took it from a complimentary, donor-funded tray at a local university building, because no one was around and I love a free snack.
After it had sat on my kitchen counter for a week or so, it looked just as appealing as it did when I first put it there. After 14 days and still no sign of its skin shrivelling or softening, I resolved not to eat this bionic apple. Instead, I kept it on my counter, curious to find out how long it would remain intact. By week four, it had begun to display the first signs of a faint reddish-pink sheen, but otherwise it still looked yummy and crunchy. By week seven, I abandoned my experiment and tossed it in the trash. A friend was staying and I worried she might accidentally eat it.
I have since learned that the EU bans around 1,000 chemicals from its food products due to health risk. In comparison, the US list of banned substances contains only seven entries. This only bolstered my belief that every bite of every item I eat in the US must come with a little, invisible dollop of cancer. But nothing prepared me for the experience of attempting to buy an American frying pan.
I initially turned to the most American of online stores – Walmart. I had already added the pan of my choice to my shopping cart when I noticed, in headache-inducingly small writing, a disclaimer at the bottom of the page. It read: “WARNING: This product can expose you to chemicals which are known to the State of California to cause cancer and birth defects or other reproductive harm.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Next I tried Target.com, but I found the same jaw-dropping disclosures on that website, too.
Next up was Ikea. I had hoped that a pan from a European manufacturer would be free of all that toxic stuff, but was stunned to find their frying pans featured the same disclaimers. I felt betrayed. Do European companies not bother with European regulations on the stuff they sell outside of the EU? Is all that corporate responsibility stuff for “fussy” Europeans only?
When I mentioned my fruitless quest for a carcinogen-free pan to my US friends, I expected them to insist that I was overreacting – that US health officials greatly overstate the risk posed by the chemicals. Instead, they all nodded apologetically.
One friend saw it as yet another sign of his countrymen “choosing convenience” over everything else. I’m still trying to figure out what is convenient about getting cancer. Another local pointed out that the state of California puts those disclaimers on pretty much every product. “So the label is meaningless?”, I asked. “No,” he said, “those labels are definitely deserved.”
In the end, I headed to a downtown TK Maxx where I spent 20 minutes in the cookware and bakeware aisle, twisting and turning two models in my hand. One said “Free of PFAS”; the other said “PFAS and PFOA Free”, which I guess is a good thing. But neither mentioned any of the other chemicals the state of California had told me to be on the lookout for: chromium, butadiene (whatever that is) and a few others. Taking a deep sigh, I walked towards the registers with the PFAS and PFOA-free one. Its smooth, beige coating reminded me of the beguiling sheen on that Granny Smith apple after weeks of inactivity on my counter.
Linda A Thompson is a Belgian journalist and editor living in Brussels
