Particulate matter pollution emitted by Pennsylvania's fracking wells killed about 20 people between 2010 and 2017, according to a soon-to-be-published study.
Pennsylvania is the second-largest producer of natural gas in the U.S. after Texas. Between 2010 and 2017, there were 20,677 permitted fracking wells in the state, about half of which had been drilled. Fracking, another name for hydraulic fracturing, is a process of extracting oil and gas from the Earth by drilling deep wells and injecting liquid at high pressure.
One of fracking's byproducts is particulate matter pollution, also referred to as PM 2.5, which consists of tiny, airborne particles of chemicals that, when inhaled, make their way into the lungs and bloodstream, increasing cancer risk and causing heart and respiratory problems. Exposure to PM 2.5 kills an estimated 20,000 Americans each year.
Previous studies have found that heavily-fracked communities face higher rates of numerous health effects including preterm births, high-risk pregnancies, asthma, and cardiovascular disease—but this is the first to investigate the direct relationship between the local increase in PM 2.5 caused by fracking and deaths from respiratory and heart issues that can be attributed to that increase.
"Our study is not only looking at negative health outcomes, but investigating how fracking actually caused these deaths through increased air pollution," Ruohao Zhang, a researcher at Binghamton University who specializes in environmental economics and the study's lead author, told EHN.
Zhang and a team of four other researchers used satellite data from NASA to calculate daily PM 2.5 emissions from all fracking wells in the state over the seven-year period between 2010 and 2017. To determine how many people died as a result of exposure to those emissions, they used county-level mortality data from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention paired with established methods for calculating how many of the deaths seen in Pennsylvania during that time period were caused by increases in PM 2.5 exposure.
"The levels of increased PM 2.5 concentrations that came from fracking wells in the state is associated with about 20 additional deaths during that time period," Zhang said. These are deaths that presumably would not have occurred in the absence of air pollution from fracking. The estimated economic loss caused by these additional deaths is around $148 million, according to the study.
Washington County was the most heavily affected county in the state, with an additional 4.26 deaths caused by PM 2.5 emissions caused by fracking between 2010 and 2017.
"When we accounted for airborne spillover of pollution from multiple wells in the same area we found that, overall, fracking made the particulate matter pollution of a three-kilometer area around each well [roughly 1.8 miles] higher by between 1.27 percent and 5.67 percent," Zhang said, explaining that the high end of that spectrum usually reflected a higher density of wells in the area.
While the increase in PM 2.5 was highest closest to the fracking wells, Zhang noted that increased levels of the pollutant were also detectable at least as far as 10 kilometers (about 6 miles) downwind of emission sources.
The study also found that without accounting for "spillover," each individual well caused an increase in PM 2.5 in the surrounding three-kilometer area of between 1.35 percent and 2.19 percent. The higher end of that spectrum generally represents wells in the active drilling phase, while the lower end generally reflects the pollution caused by wells that are already up and running, or in the "production" phase.
The NASA satellite data the researchers used became available about two years ago. Without it, Zhang said, it would have been impossible to calculate the specific air pollution increase caused by fracking in the state due to a lack of continuous, on-the-ground air monitoring systems.
"In the U.S., air quality regulations are highly dependent on ground-based monitors, which only cover a small portion of the whole country," Zhang said, noting that this is especially true in rural areas that tend to be home to lots of fracking. Even in places that are covered by ground monitors, he added, monitoring is rarely continuous—they often only take samples every six, eight, or 16 days.
"There are huge monitoring and data gaps there, allowing for what's referred to as 'unwatched pollution,'" Zhang said. "But this satellite data allows us to continuously monitor air quality everywhere."
The NASA satellite data itself doesn't directly relay air pollution data. Researchers like Zhang look at the degree to which aerosols in the air prevent the transmission of light to determine concentrations of PM 2.5. While this method has previously been used to estimate PM 2.5 levels across the globe or over specific countries or continents, Zhang said, it's most accurate when used to calculate air pollution in a smaller area, such as a single state.
A resident of Washington County, Pennsylvania, points to fracking infrastructure near his home. (Credit: Kristina Marusic/EHN)
Based on their findings, Zhang said he would encourage local and state elected officials to regulate the shale gas industry to reduce PM 2.5 emissions and protect the health of residents. In the meantime, he said, people living near fracking wells who are concerned for their health can minimize the impacts of PM 2.5 exposure by keeping their windows closed and not exercising outdoors in close proximity to operational wells.
"I would also tell residents in Pennsylvania that if they learn they have shale gas under their property, they should be aware that their decision about whether or not to lease their land for drilling may impact not only their own health, but the health of their neighbors as well," he added.
Zhang also pointed out that while their study focused on deaths caused by PM 2.5 pollution from fracking, fracking also generates many other kinds of pollution—such as volatile organic compounds and radioactive waste—that can endanger the health of residents and should be accounted for.
"We think it's important to know how every kind of pollutant caused by fracking impacts human health," he said. "We hope that future studies will help us more fully understand the impacts of fracking on local communities."
Banner photo: A resident of Washington County, Pennsylvania and his son approach fracking equipment near their property. (Credit: Kristina Marusic/EHN)
The settlement has paid out only a small fraction, with 79% of recipients receiving no more than $1,300 each.
Legal hurdles and strict proof requirements have thwarted many workers' attempts to claim adequate compensation.
Attorneys and experts criticize the settlement and claims process as insufficient and overly stringent.
Key quote:
"I wanted people to get their day in court and they win or lose at trial. Let a jury decide. ...But they weren’t even given the chance to do that."
— Robin Greenwald, plaintiffs' attorney
Why this matters:
Cleanup workers were exposed to hazardous conditions and toxic substances, such as crude oil and chemical dispersants, which have been linked to a range of health issues. These include respiratory problems, skin conditions, and other serious ailments. Many workers have found the compensation inadequate relative to the severity and duration of their health problems, which in some cases require ongoing medical treatment.
If settlements fail to provide sufficient redress, not only do they leave affected individuals and communities struggling, but they also raise questions about the deterrence of future corporate negligence.
CAMERON PARISH, La. — Late into the night, John Allaire watches the facility next to his home shoot 300-foot flares from stacks.
He lives within eyesight of southwest Louisiana’s salty shores, where, for decades, he’s witnessed nearly 200 feet of land between it and his property line disappear into the sea. Two-thirds of the land was rebuilt to aid the oil and gas industry’s LNG expansion. LNG — shorthand for liquified natural gas – is natural gas that's cooled to liquid form for easier storage or transport; it equates to 1/600th the volume of natural gas in a gaseous state. It’s used to generate electricity, or fuel stove tops and home heaters, and in industrial processes like manufacturing fertilizer.
In the U.S., at least 30 new LNG terminal facilities have been constructed or proposed since 2016, according to the
Oil and Gas Watch project. Louisiana and Texas’ Gulf Coast, where five facilities are already operating, will host roughly two-thirds of the new LNG terminals – meaning at least 22 Gulf Coast LNG facilities are currently under construction, were recently approved to break ground or are under further regulatory review.
Although the U.S. didn’t ship LNG until 2016, when a freight tanker left, a few miles from where Cameron Parish’s LNG plants are today, last year the country became the global leader in LNG production and export volume, leapfrogging exporters like Qatar and Australia. The
EIA’s most recent annual outlook estimated that between the current year and 2050, U.S. LNG exports will increase by 152%.
Allaire, 68, watches how saltwater collects where rainwater once fed the area’s diminishing coastal wetlands. “We still come down here with the kids and set out the fishing rods. It's not as nice as it used to be,” he told
Environmental Health News (EHN).
That intimacy with nature drew Allaire to the area when he purchased 311 acres in 1998. An environmental engineer and 30-year oil and gas industry veteran, he helped lead environmental assessments and manage clean-ups, and although retired, he still works part-time as an environmental consultant with major petroleum companies. With a lifetime of oil and gas industry expertise, he’s watched the industry's footprint spread across Louisiana and the Gulf of Mexico’s fragile shores and beyond. Now that the footprints are at the edge of his backyard, Allaire is among a cohort of organizers, residents and fisher-folk in the region mobilizing to stop LNG facility construction. For him, the industry’s expansion usurps the right-or-wrong ethics he carried across his consulting career. For anglers, oil and gas infrastructure has destroyed fishing grounds and prevented smaller vessels from accessing the seafood-rich waters of the Calcasieu River.
From the view of Allaire’s white pickup truck as he drives across his property to the ocean’s shore, he points to where a new LNG facility will replace marshlands. Commonwealth LNG intends to clear the land of trees and then backfill the remaining low-lying field.
“You see what’s happening with the environment,” Allaire said. “When the facts change, I got to change my mind about what we’re doing.”
Community bands together
John Allaire, left, purchased 311 acres in Cameron Parish in 1998, and has watched the oil and gas industry's footprint spread to his property.
Credit: John Allaire
During an Earth Day rally in April, community members gathered in the urban center of Lake Charles to demand local oil and gas industries help deliver a safer, healthier future for all. In between live acts by artists performing south Louisiana’s quintessential zydeco musical style, speakers like James Hiatt, a Calcasieu Parish native with ties to Cameron Parish and a Healthy Gulf organizer, and RISE St. James organizer Sharon Lavigne, who’s fighting against LNG development in rural Plaquemines Parish near the city of New Orleans, asked the nearly 100 in attendance to imagine a day in which the skyline isn’t dotted by oil and gas infrastructure.
Not long ago, it was hard to imagine an Earth Day rally in southwest Louisiana at all. For decades, the area has been decorated with fossil fuel infrastructure. Sunsets on some days are highlighted by the chemicals in the air; at night, thousands of facilities’ lights dot the dark sky.
“It takes a lot of balls for people to start speaking up,” Shreyas Vasudevan, a campaign researcher with the Louisiana Bucket Brigade, told EHN in the days after the rally. In a region with its history and economy intertwined with oil and gas production, “you can get a lot of social criticism – or ostracization, as well – even threats to your life.”
Many are involved in local, regional and national advocacy groups, including the Louisiana Bucket Brigade, Healthy Gulf, the Sierra Club, the Natural Resources Defense Council, the Turtle Island Restoration Network, the Center for Biological Diversity and the National Audubon Society.
“You see what’s happening with the environment,” Allaire said. “When the facts change, I got to change my mind about what we’re doing.” - John Allaire, environmental engineer and 30-year oil and gas industry veteran
But environmental organizers are fighting a multi-billion-dollar industry with federal and state winds at its back. And LNG’s federal support is coupled with existing state initiatives.
Under outgoing Louisiana Gov. John Bel Edwards — a term-limited Democrat — the state pledged a goal of reaching net-zero greenhouse emissions by 2050. Natural gas, which the LNG industry markets as a cleaner-burning alternative, is cited as one of the state’s solutions. Louisiana is the only state that produces a majority of its carbon emissions through fossil fuels refining industries, like LNG, rather than energy production or transportation. Governor Edwards’ office did not return EHN’s request for comment.
This accommodating attitude towards oil and gas industries has resulted in a workforce that’s trained to work in LNG refining facilities across much of the rural Gulf region, said Steven Miles, a lawyer at Baker Botts LLP and a fellow at the Baker Institute’s Center on Energy Studies. Simultaneously, anti-industrialization pushback is lacking. It’s good news for industries like LNG.
“The bad news,” Miles added. “[LNG facilities] are all being jammed in the same areas.”
One rallying cry for opponents is local health. The Environmental Integrity Project found that LNG export terminals emit chemicals like carbon monoxide –potentially deadly– and sulfur dioxide, of which the American Lung Association says long-term exposure can lead to heart disease, cancer, and damage to internal or female reproductive organs.
An analysis of emissions monitoring reports by the advocacy group the Louisiana Bucket Brigade found that Venture Global’s existing Calcasieu Pass facility had more than 2,000 permit violations.That includes exceeding the permit’s authorized air emissions limit to release nitrogen oxides, carbon monoxide, particulate matter and volatile organic compounds 286 out of its first 343 days of operation.
The Marvel Crane, the first liquid natural gas carrier to transport natural gas from the Southwest Louisiana LNG facility, transits a channel in Hackberry, Louisiana, May 28, 2019.
“This is just one facility,” at a time when three more facilities have been proposed in the region and state, Vasudevan said. Venture Global’s operational LNG facility — also known as Calcasieu Pass — “is much smaller than the other facility they’ve proposed.”
In an area that experienced 18 feet of storm surge during Hurricane Laura in 2020 — and just weeks later, struck by Hurricane Delta — Venture Global is planning to build a second export terminal Known as “CP2,” it’s the largest of the roughly two dozen proposed Gulf LNG export terminals, and a key focal point for the region’s local organizing effort.
Residents “don’t really want LNG as much as they want Cameron [Parish] from 1990 back,” Hiatt told EHN of locals’ nostalgia for a community before storms like Rita in 2005 brought up to 15 feet of storm surge, only for Laura to repeat the damage in 2020. Throughout that time, the parish’s population dipped from roughly 10,000 to 5,000. “But the wolf knocking at the door is LNG. Folks in Cameron think that's going to bring back community, bring back the schools, bring back this time before we had all these storms — when Cameron was pretty prosperous.”
“Clearly,” for the oil and gas industry, “the idea is to transform what was once the center of commercial fishing in Louisiana to gas exports,” Cindy Robertson, an environmental activist in southwest Louisiana, told EHN.
Helping fishers’ impacted by LNG is about “actual survival of this unique culture,” Cooke said.
In a measure of organizers’ success, she pointed to a recent permit hearing for Venture Global’s CP2 proposal. Regionally, it’s the only project that’s received an environmental permit, but not its export permit, which remains under federal review. At the meeting, some spoke on the company’s behalf. As an organizer, it was a moment of clarity, Cooke explained. Venture Global officials “had obviously done a lot of coaching and organizing and getting people together in Cameron to speak out on their behalf,” Cooke said. “So, in a way, that was bad. But in another way, it shows that we really had an impact.”
“It also shows that we have a lot to do,” Cooke added.
Environmental organizers like Alyssa Portaro describe a sense of fortitude among activists — she and her husband to the region’s nearby town of Vinton near the Texas-Louisiana border. Since the families’ relocation to their farm, Portaro has worked with Cameron Parish fisher-folk.
“I’ve not witnessed ‘community’ anywhere like there is in Louisiana,” Portaro told EHN. But a New Jersey native, she understands the toll environmental pollution has on low-income communities. “This environment, it’s so at risk — and it’s currently getting sacrificed to big industries.”
“People don’t know what we’d do without oil and gas. It comes at a big price,” she added.
Southwest Louisiana’s Cameron Parish is one of the state’s most rural localities. Marine economies were the area’s economic drivers until natural disasters and LNG facilities began pushing locals out, commercial fishers claim.
Credit: Xander Peters for Environmental Health News
Residents “don’t really want LNG as much as they want Cameron [Parish] from 1990 back,” James Hiatt , a Healthy Gulf organizer, told EHN. "But the wolf knocking at the door is LNG."
Credit: Xander Peters for Environmental Health News
For the most part, Cameron Parish’s life and economy has historically taken place at sea. As new LNG facilities are operational or in planning locally, locals claim the community they once knew is nearly unrecognizable.
Credit: Xander Peters for Environmental Health News
A disappearing parish
The stakes are seemingly higher for a region like southwest Louisiana, which is the epicenter of climate change impacts.
In nearly a century, the state has lost roughly 2,000 square miles of land to coastal erosion. In part driving the state’s erosion crisis is the compounding impacts of Mississippi River infrastructure and oil and gas industry activity, such as dredging canals for shipping purposes, according to a March study published in the journal Nature Sustainability. Louisiana’s Coastal Protection and Restoration Authority said Cameron Parish could lose more land than other coastal parishes over the next 50 years. A recent Climate Central report says the parish will be underwater within that time frame.
On top of erosion and sea level rise impacts, in August, 2023, marshland across southwest Louisiana’s Cameron Parish burned. The fires were among at least 600 across the Bayou State this year. Statewide, roughly 60,000 acres burned — a more than six-fold increase of the state’s average acres burned per year in the past decade alone.
But while the blaze avoided coastal Louisiana communities like Cameron Parish, the fires represented a warning coming from a growing chorus of locals across the region — one that’s echoes by the local commercial fishing population, who claimed to have experienced unusually low yields during the same time, according to a statement from a local environmental group. At the site of the Cameron Parish fires are locations for two proposed LNG expansion projects.
"The idea is to transform what was once the center of commercial fishing in Louisiana to gas exports.” - Cindy Robertson, an environmental activist in southwest Louisiana
It was an unusual occurrence for an area that’s more often itself underwater this time of year due to a storm surge from powerful storms. For LNG expansion’s local opposition, it was a red flag.
As the Louisiana Bucket Brigade has noted prior, the confluence of climate change’s raising of sea levels and the construction of LNG export terminals — some are proposed at the size of nearly 700 football fields — are wiping away the marshland folks like Allaire watched wither. Among their fears is that the future facilities won’t be able to withstand the power of another storm like Laura and its storm surge, which wiped away entire communities in 2020.
Amidst these regional climate impacts, LNG infrastructure has shown potential to exacerbate the accumulation of greenhouse gasses that cause global warming. For the most part, LNG is made up of methane — a greenhouse gas that’s more than 80 times more potent than carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Among the 22 current LNG facility proposals, the advocacy group Sierra Club described a combined climate pollution output that would roughly equal to that of about 440 coal plants.
The climate impacts prompt some of the LNG industry’s uncertainty going forward. It isn’t clear if Asian countries, key importers of U.S. LNG, will “embrace these energy transition issues,” said David Dismuke, an energy consultant and the former executive director of Louisiana State University’s Center for Energy Studies. Likewise, European nations remain skeptical of embracing LNG as a future staple fuel source.
“They really don't want to have to pull the trigger,” Dismukes added, referring to Europe’s hesitation to commit more resources to exporting LNG from the American market. “They don't want to go down that road.”
While there will be a tapering down of natural gas supply, Miles explained, “we’re going to need natural gas for a long time,” as larger battery storage for renewables is still unavailable.
“I'm not one of these futurists that can tell you where we're going to be, but I just don't see everything being extreme,” Dismukes said. “I don't see what we've already built getting stranded and going away, either.”
For now, LNG seems here to stay. From 2012 to 2022,U.S. natural gas demand — the sum of both domestic consumption and gross exports — rose by a whopping 43%, reported the U.S. Energy Information Administration, or EIA. Meanwhile, in oil and gas hotbeds like Louisiana and Texas, natural gas demand grew by 116%.
Throughout 25 years, Allaire has witnessed southwest Louisiana’s land slowly fade, in part driven by the same industrial spread regionally. Near where the front door of his travel trailer sits underneath the aluminum awning, he points to a chenier ridge located near the end of the property. It’s disappearing, he said.
“See the sand washing over, in here?” Allaire says, as he points towards the stretches of his property. “This pond used to go down for a half mile. This is all that's left of it on this side.”
The report from Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory, released days before the start of the next round of negotiations for a global plastics treaty this week in Ottawa, indicates plastic production could consume one-fifth of Earth's carbon budget by 2050.
Plastic production processes are highly dependent on fossil fuels, contributing significantly to greenhouse gas emissions.
Strategies to curb plastic production growth could mitigate severe climate repercussions.
Key quote:
“If this treaty forces companies to significantly cut plastic production – by at least 12% per year by our calculations – we can still keep the world’s 1.5 degree goal alive and stem the climate impacts of plastic.”
— Neil Tangri, science and policy director at the environmental justice group Global Alliance for Incinerator Alternatives
Why this matters:
The production of plastics predominantly relies on fossil fuels, particularly oil and natural gas, which leads to substantial carbon dioxide emissions. During the lifecycle of plastic, from production to disposal, various greenhouse gases are released, including methane from landfill sites where much of the discarded plastic ends up.
Senators Elizabeth Warren and Ro Khanna aim to prevent water trading to protect essential resources, citing concerns over speculation and profit-making in water-scarce regions.
The proposed bill seeks to block private investors, including hedge funds, from trading water rights, particularly in California where water futures trading is practiced.
This legislative effort, named the Future of Water Act, follows reports of increasing corporate acquisitions of water rights in the western U.S., raising alarms about potential profiteering.
Environmental groups and a U.N. expert have criticized water futures markets, warning they could lead to water commodification and affect real water availability.
Key quote:
"Water is not a commodity for the rich and powerful to profit off of."
— Elizabeth Warren, U.S. senator
Why this matters:
There's a concern that market-driven water trading undermines sustainable water management practices. Profit motives may override conservation efforts, leading to unsustainable water use patterns.
Climate change is exacerbating water scarcity. One example: Climate disruption is resulting in diminishing winter snowpacks and rapid spring runoff, thereby depriving farmers of this valuable asset, and for much of the world, there are no known substitutes.
In 2022, about 70,000 Maasai were forcibly removed from their lands in Tanzania, highlighting a broader issue of Indigenous rights violations.
The UN report details systematic criminalization of Indigenous peoples, often linked to conservation and mining interests.
Key recommendations include revising laws and strengthening protections for Indigenous human rights defenders.
Key quote:
"It’s a very serious concern because the Indigenous people who have been resisting the taking over of their lands and territories, they are the ones who most commonly face these charges and criminalization."
— Victoria Tauli-Corpuz, former UN Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples
Why this matters:
Indigenous communities often inhabit regions rich in biodiversity and natural resources, making them front-line defenders against environmental exploitation. Their traditional knowledge and sustainable practices are crucial in preserving these areas. However, as economic pressures mount to exploit these lands for logging, mining and agriculture, Indigenous peoples frequently find themselves in conflict with powerful interests, including corporations and sometimes their own governments.
A volunteer group regularly plants trees in NYC's Soundview Park, benefiting local wildlife and the community.
Research indicates tree planting in areas like NYC's Hunts Point could significantly reduce heat-related deaths and illnesses.
Minority neighborhoods in the U.S. have significantly less greenery, contributing to higher temperatures and health risks.
Key quote:
"It'll be significantly hotter in one place than the other because of the investment [in green spaces] that one has gotten and the other has not."
— Victoria Sanders, climate and health programs manager at the NYC Environmental Justice Alliance
Why this matters:
Increasing tree cover in cities is especially important because of the "urban heat island" effect, where buildings, roads and other infrastructure absorb and re-emit the sun’s heat more than natural landscapes such as forests and fields. By increasing shade and lowering surface and air temperatures, trees can help mitigate this effect.
Learn more: Tucson's ambitious tree planting goal aims to improve the health of residents, wildlife, and the watershed.
Data from 2023 shows a notable increase in heat-related illnesses, primarily from May to September, with nearly 120,000 recorded ER visits.
Southern states, particularly Arkansas, Louisiana, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Texas, experienced the highest rates of heat-related visits.
Men and adults aged 18-64 were the most affected groups, suggesting specific demographic vulnerabilities to heat effects.
Key quote:
"The heat you were asked to manage 10 years ago is not the heat you’re being asked to manage today."
— Kristie L. Ebi, University of Washington professor
Why this matters:
Heat illnesses range from mild conditions like heat rash and heat cramps to more severe forms such as heat exhaustion and heat stroke, the latter of which can be life-threatening. Those who work outdoors can be particularly vulnerable. Urban areas are particularly vulnerable due to the "urban heat island" effect, where buildings and roads absorb and re-emit the sun’s heat more than natural landscapes such as forests and bodies of water. This can make cities several degrees warmer than their rural surroundings, increasing the risk of heat-related illnesses for city dwellers.
Biodegradable food packaging is a step in the right direction, experts say, but when composted carries risks of microplastic and chemical contamination.
Oregon’s Regenyx plant announced its closing in late February, with those involved calling it a success, despite never reaching planned capacity and millions of dollars lost.
A resident of Washington County, Pennsylvania, points to fracking infrastructure near his home. (Credit: Kristina Marusic/EHN)
