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MADISON COUNTY, Ill. - Illinois Governor JB Pritzker is hosting a job fair on Thursday at Southern Illinois University-Edwardsville (SIUE) to assist former federal workers and others seeking employment opportunities. The job fair is a response to President Trump's plans to streamline the federal government, which could impact approximately 42,000 of the 81,300 federal employees [...]

Missouri is failing its citizens. In most states, if someone is convicted of a crime they did not commit, they have a legal path to prove their innocence. Missouri, however, is one of the few states where that path does not exist unless the person is on death row. That means if someone has rock-solid […]

by Justin Elliott, Joshua Kaplan and Alex Mierjeski

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For a project explicitly designed to influence Congress, Steve Berger’s operation has left a scant paper trail. The archconservative evangelical pastor, who started a D.C. nonprofit a few years ago to shape national policy, does not file lobbying reports. His group does not show up in campaign finance records.

There is a simple way to glimpse his effort’s expanding reach in Washington, however: Pay attention to who is walking out the front door of his Capitol Hill townhouse. New evidence suggests Berger may be running what amounts to a group house for conservative lawmakers, with multiple members of Congress living with him at his organization’s headquarters.

The six-bedroom, $3.7 million home is owned by a multimillion-dollar Republican donor.

Rep. Andy Ogles, a Tennessee Republican who is among President Donald Trump’s most aggressive allies in Congress, has been at the house on multiple days over the past two weeks, according to people who live in the area. Video reviewed by ProPublica showed Ogles leaving the townhouse with bags on Feb. 27. As he left, he locked up the front door and pocketed the keys to the house.

As ProPublica reported last week, House Speaker Mike Johnson is living in the townhouse. And Dan Bishop, a former congressman from North Carolina now nominated for a powerful post in Trump’s White House, appears to have lived there until recently as well.

Berger has said his goal is to “disciple” members of Congress so what “they learn is then translated into policy.” He has claimed to have personally spurred legislation, saying a senator privately credited him with inspiring a bill.

Berger, Bishop and Ogles did not respond to requests for comment. A spokesperson for Johnson previously said the speaker pays fair-market rent for the part of the townhouse he occupies but didn’t answer questions about the specific rate. He said Johnson has not spoken to the pastor about “any matter of public policy.”

Ogles is in only his third year in Congress, but he’s drawn attention for his bombastic displays of fealty to Trump. He recently introduced a resolution to amend the Constitution so that Trump could serve a third term as president. He’s filed articles of impeachment against multiple judges who’ve ruled against the new administration. (Last week, Elon Musk posted a video of Ogles touting his impeachment efforts, set to the beat from the rap song “Shook Ones, Pt. II.”)

Ogles’ short tenure is also notable for the pace of scandal that’s followed it. He has faced allegations that he inflated his resume, claiming alternatively to have been an economist, a member of law enforcement and an expert on international sex trafficking, NewsChannel 5 in Nashville reported. (Ogles has acknowledged at least one mistake on his resume but said that “my body of work speaks for itself.”)

Last year, the FBI seized his phone during an investigation and obtained a search warrant to review records associated with his personal email address. Federal investigators were seeking evidence related to potential campaign finance violations, according to a court filing. The scope of the FBI investigation remains unclear.

Perhaps no one is more responsible for Ogles’ rise in politics than Lee Beaman, the Tennessee businessman who owns the Capitol Hill townhouse. When Ogles announced a short-lived Senate bid in 2017, Beaman said he planned to raise $4 million to support the run. Beaman, whose wealth derives from a large car dealership chain, then served as campaign treasurer in Ogles’ successful 2022 run for the House.

Rep. Andy Ogles appeared on stage at Steve Berger’s 60th-birthday party last year. (via Facebook)

Beaman and Berger have publicly advocated together for numerous specific policy changes, in areas including foreign affairs, fuel efficiency standards and removing barriers to firing federal employees. After the 2020 election, they both signed a letter declaring that Trump was the rightful winner and calling for Congress to overturn the results. (Beaman did not respond to requests for comment. ProPublica could not determine whether he and the pastor have discussed policy issues with Ogles during his time in Congress.)

In sermons, Berger has devoted long stretches to attacking the separation of church and state, as well as COVID-19 vaccines. The pastor used violent language to describe his disdain for “LGBTQ+ Pride” parades and “drag queen story hour” during an interview for a podcast in 2022, according to unpublished footage obtained by ProPublica.

“If I was left to myself, I’d take a baseball bat and beat the hell out of every single one of them. And not feel bad about it,” Berger said. “I have to go, ‘You know what? That’s probably not the will of God, is it?’ And obviously it’s not.”

Beyond his ownership of the townhouse, Beaman’s role in the pastor’s influence project is unclear. After Beaman purchased the house in 2021, a lawyer sought to change it from a single-family dwelling to a “boarding house/rooming house,” according to Washington, D.C., property records. Around that time, Berger’s nonprofit group, Ambassador Services International, registered the home as its address.

Members of Congress are allowed to live anywhere, as long as they pay fair-market rent, experts said. Discounts on rent are generally seen as improper gifts and prohibited by House ethics rules.

Beaman has said he got to know Ogles when Ogles was the Tennessee director of Americans for Prosperity, part of the Koch brothers’ political network. Beaman and Ogles joined forces to fight a mass transit project in Nashville and reportedly worked together on a successful effort to repeal the estate tax in their home state. After leaving the Koch network, Ogles served four years as the mayor of a Middle Tennessee county with a population of roughly 100,000. He held that role until 2022, when he was elected to Congress.

Ogles’ 2022 campaign was the subject of a blistering House ethics report released this year. The nonpartisan Office of Congressional Ethics concluded that there is “substantial reason to believe” that Ogles’ campaign had accepted illegally large donations and then falsely reported that the funds had come from Ogles himself. Ogles has said he is “confident that any reporting problem was at worst an honest mistake.” (Beaman was not named in the report and has not been accused of wrongdoing.)

The report said that Ogles refused to cooperate with the investigation. It recommended that the House Ethics Committee issue a subpoena to the congressman.

Do you have any information we should know about Steve Berger, Rep. Andy Ogles or Speaker Mike Johnson? Justin Elliott can be reached by email at justin@propublica.org and by Signal or WhatsApp at 774-826-6240. Josh Kaplan can be reached by email at joshua.kaplan@propublica.org and by Signal or WhatsApp at 734-834-9383.

The 2017 escape of the St. Louis Six brought the Gentle Barn to Missouri. Its abrupt closure left volunteers abandoned and grieving. Then, animals started dying. STLPR's Danny Wicentowski discusses his investigation into the circumstances around the closure.

ST. LOUIS COUNTY, Mo. - ST. LOUIS – An Endangered Person Advisory has been issued overnight Thursday morning in St. Louis County for a missing 66-year-old man. According to the St. Louis County Police Department, Thomas James Heugele III, 66, was last seen on camera walking out of the Dolan Memory Care Homes, located on [...]

ST. LOUIS - Skies have cleared overnight and winds are easing back from the extremes of Wednesday. We’ll continue to see winds get lighter throughout Thursday morning. Some cloud cover returns Thursday afternoon, with highs near 50 F. Mostly cloudy Thursday night with a few spot showers around sunrise Friday. Wake-up temperatures Friday will be [...]

Jethro Tull is set to release their new album, Curious Ruminant, on Friday, their third album in three years.While their last album, 2023’s RökFlöte, was inspired by Norse mythology, frontman Ian…

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by Ellis Simani, ProPublica, and Lexi Churchill, ProPublica and The Texas Tribune

ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up to receive our biggest stories as soon as they’re published.

This article is co-published with The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan local newsroom that informs and engages with Texans. Sign up for The Brief Weekly to get up to speed on their essential coverage of Texas issues.

Over the last three years, the head of a small charter school network that serves fewer than 1,000 students has taken home up to $870,000 annually, a startling amount that appears to be the highest for any public school superintendent in the state and among the top in the nation.

Valere Public Schools Superintendent Salvador Cavazos’ compensation to run three campuses in Austin, Corpus Christi and Brownsville exceeds the less than $450,000 that New York City’s chancellor makes to run the largest school system in the country.

But Cavazos’ salary looks far more modest in publicly posted records that are supposed to provide transparency to taxpayers. That’s because Valere excludes most of his bonuses from its reports to the state and on its own website, instead only sharing his base pay of about $300,000.

The fact that the superintendent of a small district could pull in a big-time salary shocked experts and previewed larger transparency and accountability challenges that could follow as Texas moves to approve a voucher-like program that would allow the use of public funds for private schools.

Cavazos’ total pay is alarming, said Duncan Klussmann, an associate professor at the University of Houston Department of Educational Leadership & Policy Studies.

“I just can’t imagine that there’d be any citizen in the state of Texas that would feel like that’s OK,” Klussmann said.

Details concerning Cavazos’ compensation, and that of two other superintendents identified by ProPublica and The Texas Tribune, drew a sharp rebuke from the association that advocates for charter schools across the state.

“It’s not acceptable for any public school to prioritize someone’s personal enrichment ahead of students’ best interests,” Brian Whitley, a spokesperson for the Texas Public Charter Schools Association, said in a statement. He added that any payment decisions made at the expense of students should be reversed immediately.

“The public charter school community has long embraced strong accountability and transparency. That’s what Texans deserve, both for academic outcomes and taxpayer dollars,” he said. “To that end, the full picture of superintendent compensation at all public schools should be made clearer.”

Texas lawmakers have filed legislation that would cap public school superintendents’ annual salaries, but most bills would not restrict bonuses. Those bills also don’t apply to private schools that stand to receive an influx of taxpayer dollars if lawmakers pass legislation this session approving education savings accounts, a type of voucher program. Private schools wouldn’t be subject to the same level of state oversight as public schools.

Lawmakers who advocate for vouchers won’t be able to gauge whether the investments were worthwhile if they don’t mandate that private schools follow the same financial and academic reporting requirements as public schools, said Bruce Baker, a professor at the University of Miami Department of Teaching and Learning.

Cavazos’ compensation proves that even those reporting standards are “woefully inadequate,” Baker said.

Texas school districts must post all compensation and benefits provided to their superintendent online or in public annual reports, according to rules set by the Texas Education Agency. They must also report superintendents’ salaries and any supplemental pay for extra duties to the state. But Valere excluded more than a dozen bonuses and additional payments it awarded Cavazos, some of which its board granted to him in perpetuity.

ProPublica and The Texas Tribune uncovered the total amount the district paid Cavazos by combing through federal tax records that the charter network must file annually with the Internal Revenue Service to maintain its nonprofit status. The news organizations then gathered additional details through public records requests to the district and the state.

Cavazos’ July 2022 employment letter states that his base annual pay would be $285,887, but Valere Public Schools reported in its tax filings that he was paid $870,714 that year. (Obtained by ProPublica. Highlighted by ProPublica.)

Cavazos, who has overseen the charter district since 2014 and previously served as superintendent in two other public school systems, declined an interview and did not answer written questions for this story.

Board members provided written responses to questions through attorney Ryan Lione, who serves as outside counsel for the district. In defending Cavazos’ compensation, they likened his role to that of a corporate CEO, which they said comes with “many more day-to-day duties,” including fundraising, overseeing expansion and guiding the charter through a 2020 split from its parent organization.

“We believe that the benefits that Dr. Cavazos brings to Valere through his vast experience and knowledge justify the compensation that the Board has and continues to award him,” the Valere board’s statement read.

Board members said that they did not believe the district had run afoul of any state reporting requirements because no one from the state had told them that they had.

But Jake Kobersky, a spokesperson for the state’s education agency, said it does not monitor whether districts post their compensation information online and that it only follows up if it receives tips about violations. He declined to comment on whether the district’s omission of bonuses paid to Cavazos in its reporting to the state or on the district’s website was a violation, but after questions from the news organizations, Kobersky said the agency is now reviewing the district’s reporting to “determine what next steps, if any, are necessary.”

Bonus After Bonus

At least two other Texas charter school districts have also paid their superintendents hundreds of thousands of dollars on top of what they publicly reported in recent years, our analysis found.

Dallas-based Gateway Charter Academy, which serves about 600 students, paid its superintendent Robbie Moore $426,620 in 2023, nearly double his base salary of $215,100, the latest available federal tax filings show. Pay for Mollie Purcell Mozley of Faith Family Academy, another Dallas-area charter school superintendent, hit a high of $560,000 in 2021, despite a contracted salary of $306,000. She continued to receive more than $400,000 during each of the two subsequent years, according to tax filings.

The districts didn’t publicly post the additional payments on their websites, and only Faith Family Academy has reported any extra pay to the state. Moore, Mozley and Faith Family Academy did not respond to requests for comment. In a statement, Gateway Charter Academy did not address questions related to the superintendent’s compensation. Without providing any details, the statement said the district has made mistakes but is implementing “corrective measures.” Since it was contacted by the newsrooms, the district has updated its website with a new document that lists an undated $75,000 bonus for Moore. The Texas Education Agency did not answer questions about either school district.

Valere, however, stands out among the charter school districts identified by the news organizations.

Board members have voted to increase Cavazos’ pay or other financial benefits in 14 of their 24 meetings since 2021.

In one instance, the board granted Cavazos a bonus of $20,000 after taxes for every month that he continued to work for the district. The increase, described as a “retention incentive,” bolstered his take-home pay by an additional $240,000 annually.

“It’s almost like they’re just convening just to keep giving away their school’s money to this individual,” said David DeMatthews, a professor at the University of Texas Department of Educational Leadership and Policy. “I don’t think teachers that work in that school would feel so great that rather than make those investments into their children, they’re making it into this gentleman’s bank account.”

Board members defended their decision to dole out repeated bonuses to Cavazos, including payments totaling roughly half a million dollars to fully reimburse a withdrawal he made from his retirement fund in 2018 for a “personal emergency.”

They declined to discuss the nature of the personal emergency but said the payments were “the right thing to do” to ensure that Cavazos could retire one day. Board members claimed that a “significant” portion of Cavazos’ compensation came from private donations but would not say how much or provide documents to support their assertion.

The board also said that it rewarded Cavazos for his work leading the district through a “difficult” 2020 separation from its former parent organization, Southwest Key Programs, the Texas-based nonprofit that provides housing for unaccompanied minors who arrive at the southern border.

The split came after The New York Times revealed that Southwest Key’s leaders, including then-CEO Juan Sanchez, had used money from the charter district and its for-profit companies to bolster their pay well beyond the $187,000 federal cap for migrant shelter grants. Sanchez, who also served on Valere’s school board at the time, received $1.5 million in 2017 as the charter struggled with debt and students contended with deteriorating buildings, the Times found. In response to the reporting, a Southwest Key spokesperson disputed that the nonprofit had unfairly taken money from the schools. Sanchez, who resigned in 2019, denied wrongdoing, saying in an interview with ProPublica and the Tribune that his salary did not come from the charter’s coffers.

State records show that the state education agency closed an investigation in 2022 into “conflict of interest, nepotism, and misuse of funds” at Valere. The agency would not provide details on what prompted the probe or share information about its findings.

To piece together Cavazos’ compensation, the newsrooms filed public records requests for payment records and meeting minutes, which the district had not posted online for years. On at least two occasions, Cavazos received payments that initially appeared to have no record of board approval.

Minutes from a January 2024 meeting showed that the board did not vote on a $73,000 payment he later received. When the newsrooms asked about the discrepancy, the board said it provided the reporters with the wrong copy of the minutes and pointed to a different version the district had later posted online that included approval of both the payment, for a life insurance plan, and a car lease.

Another bonus came after a November board meeting attended by a reporter from the news organizations who heard no discussion of the payment. Questioned about when the board approved the bonus, members said they had done so during a closed-door portion of the meeting. After the reporter pointed out that such an action was against state law, board members said they voted after ending the closed session but before allowing the public, including the reporter, back into the meeting room.

Student Performance Lags

Three academics who study school performance and compensation data said they have never seen a school board fully reimburse any employee’s retirement account or approve so many hefty bonuses in such a short period.

Experts, including Klussmann, a former superintendent of the Spring Branch Independent School District in Houston, said that the money should be put toward students’ education. The vast majority of Valere’s students qualify for free and reduced meals and more than a third are English-language learners, which education experts say are often clear indicators that students are at a learning disadvantage.

Valere’s student performance on state exams also lags behind statewide averages, data shows.

Last year, Valere teachers left at a higher rate than in most schools across the state. The turnover has been difficult for Marisol Gauna’s son, who has autism and ADHD. Gauna says he no longer has a special education teacher who works with him one on one to help overcome learning hurdles. As a result, she worries he could fail the eighth grade.

A parent of three children in the district, Gauna was flabbergasted when she learned about Cavazos’ pay from ProPublica and the Tribune. Those funds, she said, could be used to retain teachers, improve sports facilities and provide healthier cafeteria food.

“It should go to the school or even to the teachers so that way there can be good, responsible teachers that want to stay there,” Gauna said.

Andrea Suozzo contributed reporting.

Correction

March 6, 2025: This story originally incorrectly referred to the school district where Duncan Klussmann had been a superintendent. He worked for the Spring Branch Independent School District in Houston, not a district in Spring Branch, Texas.

Proposition B, which would give the county council the ability to remove department heads, will be on a county-wide ballot in April.

The alleged mastermind behind the 2021 Abbey Gate bombing at the Kabul airport has been captured and is in U.S. custody.

A timely research paper looking at SSA staff cuts in the 1980s found that it led to tens of thousands of Americans not getting their earned benefits.

The lone civilian representative overseeing a sprawling partnership between the federal government and the NYPD says that officers are avoiding guidelines in place for 40 years.

Industry actors, Congress, and the EPA are teaming up to potentially make our air less breathable.

by Sharon Lerner

For decades, Republican lawmakers and industry lobbyists have tried to chip away at the small program in the Environmental Protection Agency that measures the threat of toxic chemicals.

Most people don’t know IRIS, as the program is called, but it is the scientific engine of the agency that protects human health and the environment. Its scientists assess the toxicity of chemicals, estimating the amount of each that triggers cancer and other health effects. And these values serve as the independent, nonpartisan basis for the rules, regulations and permits that limit our exposure to toxic chemicals.

Now IRIS faces the gravest threat to its existence since it was created under President Ronald Reagan four decades ago.

Legislation introduced in Congress would prohibit the EPA from using any of IRIS’ hundreds of chemical assessments in environmental rules, regulations, enforcement actions and permits that limit the amount of pollution allowed into air and water. The EPA would also be forbidden from using them to map the health risks from toxic chemicals. The bills, filed in both the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives earlier this year, are championed by companies that make and use chemicals, along with industry groups that have long opposed environmental rules. If it becomes law, the “No IRIS Act,” as it’s called, would essentially bar the agency from carrying out its mission, experts told ProPublica.

“They’re trying to undermine the foundations for doing any kind of regulation,” said William Boyd, a professor at UCLA School of Law who specializes in environmental law. Boyd noted that IRIS reports on chemicals’ toxicity are the first step in the long process of creating legal protections from toxic pollutants in air and water.

“If you get rid of step one, you’re totally in the dark,” he said.

If the act passes, companies could even use the law to fight the enforcement of environmental rules that have long been on the books or permits that limit their toxic emissions, environmental lawyers told ProPublica.

The attack on IRIS has a good chance of succeeding at a time when Republicans are eager to support President Donald Trump’s agenda, according to environmental advocates who monitor Congress. The bills dovetail with the anti-regulatory efforts that have marked the second Trump administration, which has begun to dismantle climate protections, nominated industry insiders to top positions in the EPA and announced plans for unprecedented cuts that could slash the agency’s budget by 65%.

Project 2025, the ultraconservative playbook that has guided much of Trump’s second presidency, calls for the elimination of IRIS on the grounds that it “often sets ‘safe levels’ based on questionable science” and that its reviews result in “billions in economic costs.” The policy blueprint echoes industry claims that IRIS does not adequately reflect all of the research on chemicals; there are sometimes significant differences between the program’s conclusions and those of corporate-funded scientists.

IRIS has long been a target of industry and has at times been criticized by independent scientific bodies. More than a decade ago, for example, the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine took issue with the organization, length and clarity of IRIS reviews; a more recent report from the same group found that IRIS had made “significant progress” in addressing the problems.

IRIS’ work stands out in a world where much of the science on toxic chemicals is funded by corporations with a vested stake in them. Studies have shown that industry-funded science tends to be biased in favor of the sponsor’s products. But IRIS’ several dozen scientists do not have a financial interest in their findings. Their work has had a tangible impact on real people. The program’s calculations are the hard science that allow the agency to identify heightened disease risk due to chemicals in the air, water and land. And these revelations have, in some cases, led to stricter chemical regulations and grassroots efforts to curtail pollution.

“Bitter Battles”

IRIS, which stands for Integrated Risk Information System, was created in 1985. Until that point, different parts of the EPA had often assessed chemicals in isolation, and their methods and values were not always consistent.

At first, IRIS just collected assessments completed by various divisions of the EPA. Then, in 1996, it began conducting its own, independent reviews of chemicals. Its scientists analyze studies of a chemical and use them to calculate the amount of the substance that people can be exposed to without being harmed. IRIS sends drafts of its reports to multiple reviewers, who critique its methods and findings.

As the tranche of assessments grew, so did its value to the world. States began relying on IRIS’ numbers to set limits in air and water permits. Some also use them to prioritize their environmental efforts, acting first on the chemicals IRIS deems most harmful. Countries that don’t have the expertise to assess chemicals themselves often adopt IRIS values to guide their own regulations.

Today, IRIS’ collection of more than 500 assessments of chemicals, groups of related chemicals, and mixtures of chemicals is the largest database of authoritative toxicity values in the world, according to Vincent Cogliano, a recently retired scientist who worked on IRIS assessments for more than 25 years.

From the beginning, industry scientists challenged IRIS with calculations that showed their chemicals to be less dangerous.

“There were a lot of pretty bitter battles,” said Cogliano, who remembers particularly intense opposition to the assessments of diesel engine exhaust and formaldehyde during the 1990s. Critiques of IRIS assessments intensified over the years and began to slow the program’s work. “It took so long to get through that there were fewer and fewer assessments,” said Cogliano.

In 2017, opposition to IRIS escalated further. Trump’s budget proposal would have slashed funding for the program. Although Congress funded IRIS and the program survived, some of its work was halted during his first presidency. Trump appointed a chemical engineer named David Dunlap to head the division of the EPA that includes IRIS. Dunlap had challenged the EPA’s science on formaldehyde when he was working as the director of environmental regulatory affairs for Koch Industries. Koch’s subsidiary, Georgia-Pacific, made formaldehyde and many products that emit it. (Georgia-Pacific has since sold its chemicals business to Bakelite Synthetics.) While Dunlap was at the EPA, work on several IRIS assessments was suspended, including the report on formaldehyde. IRIS completed that report last year.

That assessment proved controversial, as ProPublica documented in its investigation of the chemical late last year. In calculating the risks that formaldehyde can cause cancer, IRIS decided not to include the chance that the chemical can cause myeloid leukemia, a potentially fatal blood cancer. The EPA said IRIS made this decision because it lacked confidence in its calculation; the agency admitted that the omission drastically underestimated formaldehyde’s cancer risk.

“The Depth of the Poisoning”

Still, some of IRIS’ assessments have made a huge difference in parts of the country.

In 2016, IRIS updated its assessment of a colorless gas called ethylene oxide. The evaluation changed the chemical’s status from a probable human carcinogen to plainly “carcinogenic to humans.” And IRIS calculated the uppermost amount of the chemical before it starts to cause cancer, finding that it was 30 times lower than previously believed.

The EPA used that information to create a map, which showed that people living near a sterilizing plant in Willowbrook, Illinois, had an elevated cancer risk because the facility was releasing ethylene oxide into the air. Once locals learned of their risk, they kicked into action.

“That knowledge led us to be able to really activate the groundswell of community members,” said Lauren Kaeseberg, who was part of a group that held protests outside the plant, met with state and local officials, and testified at hearings. Not long after the protests, Illinois passed legislation limiting the release of the pollutant, the local plant shut down and the cancer-causing pollution was gone from the air.

Around the country, the pattern has been repeated. After IRIS issues its estimate of the amount of a chemical that people can safely be exposed to without developing cancer and other diseases, the EPA uses that information to map the threats from chemicals in air. IRIS’ evidence showing that people have an elevated risk of cancer has sparked some hard-hit communities to fight back, suing polluters, shuttering plants and demanding the offending chemical be removed from their environment.

In St. John the Baptist Parish, Louisiana, residents had long felt as if they had more than their share of sickness. The small rectangle of land near the Mississippi River abuts a chemical plant that emits foul-smelling gases. For decades, as they breathed in the fumes, residents suffered from respiratory problems, autoimmune diseases, cancers and other ailments. In 2016, after IRIS assessed the toxicity of chloroprene, one of the chemicals coming out of the plant’s smokestacks, the people of St. John discovered the main source of their problems. The IRIS assessment showed that chloroprene was a likely carcinogen and caused damage to the immune system. With this information, the EPA concluded that St. John had the highest cancer risk from air pollution in the country.

“I didn’t realize the depth of the poisoning that was taking place until EPA came to our community in 2016 and brought us that IRIS report,” said Robert Taylor, who has lived his entire life in St. John. When the agency representatives arrived, Taylor’s wife had cancer and his daughter was bedridden with a rare autoimmune condition. A lifelong musician who was then 75, Taylor began organizing his neighbors to demand a stop to the deadly pollution. (His wife died in December.)

Robert Taylor and his late wife, Zenobia (Courtesy of Taylor family)

The assessments of chloroprene and ethylene oxide — and the activism they sparked around the country — eventually led the EPA to crack down. Last year, the agency announced several rules that aimed to reduce toxic emissions. The rules call for changes in how companies produce and release chemicals — the type of reforms that can be expensive to undertake.

The Biden administration sued Denka, the company that owns the chloroprene-releasing plant in St. John, in an effort to force it to curb the amount of the chemical it released. But the Trump administration intends to drop that suit, according to The New York Times.

For its part, Denka sued the EPA over one of the rules in July, asking the court for more time to implement the changes. The company argued that the agency was on a “politically motivated, unscientific crusade” to shut down the plant.

Critics of IRIS have used similarly barbed language in their recent attacks. In his press release introducing what he calls the “No Industrial Restrictions in Secret Act” in the House, Rep. Glenn Grothman, R-Wis., wrote that “Unelected bureaucrats in the Biden Administration have disrupted the work of Wisconsin’s chemical manufacturers and inhibited upon the success of the industry through the abuse of the EPA’s IRIS program.” The press release said the bill is supported by Hexion, which has a plant in his district. Hexion makes formaldehyde, a chemical that increases the cancer risk nationwide.

Neither Grothman nor Sen. John Kennedy, R-La., who introduced the Senate version of the bill, responded to questions from ProPublica, including how they think the EPA could regulate chemicals if the bill passes. The EPA did not answer questions for this story.

The American Chemistry Council, which represents more than 190 companies, sent a letter to Lee Zeldin in late January calling on the EPA administrator to disband IRIS and prohibit the use of its assessments in rules and regulations. IRIS “has been increasingly used to develop overly burdensome regulations on critical chemistries,” the letter states, going on to argue that the program lacks transparency and “has often fallen short of scientific standards.” (The letter was first reported by Inside EPA.) The American Petroleum Institute, the Extruded Polystyrene Foam Association, the Independent Lubricant Manufacturers Association, the Fertilizer Institute and the Plastics Industry Association were among the dozens of organizations representing industries financially impacted by IRIS’ chemical assessments that signed the letter.

“Off the Deep End”

Industry groups have also criticized IRIS for being slow and overstepping its authority. And they have noted that outside organizations have found fault with it.

In addition to the National Academies criticism in 2011 about the clarity and transparency of its reports, IRIS has responded to recommendations from the Government Accounting Office, according to a report the congressional watchdog issued last week. The GAO, which monitors how taxpayer dollars are spent, placed IRIS on its “high risk list” in 2009. But the GAO did so not because it was vulnerable to waste, fraud and abuse — the reasons some programs land on the list — but because the watchdog decided IRIS wasn’t doing enough assessments of dangerous chemicals. Since 2009, the GAO made 22 recommendations to IRIS, all of which have been implemented, according to the agency’s website. The new report acknowledged improvements but noted that the program’s current pace of finalizing assessments “likely cannot increase without more resources.” According to the GAO report, in 2023 and 2024, IRIS had reported needing 26 additional staff members to meet the demand for chemical assessments.

Defenders of the program say the criticisms mask a simple motive: protecting industry profits rather than public health.

“It’s blatant self-interest,” said Robert Sussman, a veteran attorney who worked at the EPA as well as for environmental groups and chemical companies. “What they’re really trying to do here is prevent the EPA from doing assessments of their chemicals.”

While he has witnessed many attempts to scale back the EPA’s power in his 40-year career, Sussman described the current effort to eliminate its use of IRIS’ chemical assessments as “completely off the deep end.”

Weaker bills targeting IRIS were introduced into both the House and Senate in February of last year but did not have the political support to advance. Now, after the election, the possibility of success is entirely different, according to Daniel Rosenberg, director of federal toxics policy at the Natural Resources Defense Council, an environmental nonprofit.

“I don’t think there’s any doubt that if it does pass Congress — and it now could — the president will sign it,” said Rosenberg. But Rosenberg added that he believes that if the public understood the consequences of doing away with the science at the core of the EPA’s work, people could potentially sway their lawmakers to stand up to the attack on IRIS.

“The current political alignment is clearly very favorable to the chemical lobby, but their actual agenda has never been popular,” said Rosenberg. “There’s never been a case where people are in favor of more carcinogens in their environment.”

Climate action is a guilt trip. Let’s make it aspirational instead.

This week's Arch City Report Podcast examines examines the Metro East economy, how much it contributes to the Illinois GDP and how the region's population has hit a 20-plus year low. We also talk about the office market upheaval that's resulted from slate of St. Louis-area office buildings on a federal lists of properties the Trump administration intends to sell or leases it intends to cancel. We also talk sports tourism and some of the big questions we're hoping to ask during a live recording…