Of course drinking water from plastic bottles can be also dangerous due to the leaching of plastics from the bottle
FLINT, MICHIGAN
Melissa Mays looks 
around the emergency room at a frail, elderly man in a wheelchair and a 
woman with a hacking cough and can’t quite believe she’s here. Until a 
few months ago, she was healthy—an active mother of three boys who found
 time to go to the gym while holding down a job as a media consultant 
and doing publicity for bands.
But
 lately, she’s been feeling sluggish. She’s developed a rash on her leg,
 and clumps of her hair are falling out. She ended up in the emergency 
room last week after feeling “like [her] brain exploded,” hearing pops, 
and experiencing severe pain in one side of her head.
Mays
 blames her sudden spate of health problems on the water in her hometown
 of Flint. She says it has a blue tint when it comes out of her faucet, 
and lab results indicate it has high amounts of copper and lead. Her 
family hasn’t been drinking the water for some months, but they have 
been bathing in it, since they have no alternative.
“It set off a train wreck in my system,” Mays 
told me, sitting in the emergency room. Later, doctors would put her on 
beta blockers after finding problems in the arteries around her brain.
In
 the past 16 months, abnormally high levels of e. coli, 
trihamlomethanes, lead, and copper have been found in the city’s water, 
which comes from the local river (a dead body and an abandoned car
 were also found in the same river). Mays and other residents say that 
the city government endangered their health when it stopped buying water
 from Detroit last year and instead started selling residents treated 
water from the Flint River. “I’ve never seen a first-world city have such disregard for human safety,” she told me.
While Flint’s government and its financial 
struggles certainly have a role to play in the city’s water woes, the 
city may actually be a canary in the coal mine, signaling more problems 
to come across the country. “Flint is an extreme case, but nationally, 
there’s been a lack of investment in water infrastructure,” said Eric 
Scorsone, an economist at Michigan State University who has followed the
 case of Flint. “This is a common problem nationally— infrastructure 
maintenance has not kept up.”
Indeed, water scarcity in the parched West 
might be getting the most news coverage, but infrastructure delays and 
climate change are causing big problems for cities in the North and 
Midwest, too. Last summer, hundreds of thousands of people in Toledo 
were told not to drink tap water because tests showed abnormally high levels
 of microcystins, perhaps related to algae blooms in Lake Erie. 
Microcystins can cause fever, headaches, vomiting, and—in rare 
cases—seizures. Heavy rainfall has caused backups in the filtering process at overloaded water-treatment plants in Pennsylvania, and so residents are frequently finding themselves under advisories to boil water. And Chicago, which installed lead service lines in many areas in the 1980s, is now facing a spike in lead-contaminated tap water.
In 2013, America received a “D” in the drinking-water category of the American Society for Civil Engineers’ Report Card for America’s Infrastructure.
 The report found that most of the nation’s drinking-water 
infrastructure is “nearing the end of its useful life.” Replacing the 
nation’s pipes would cost more than $1 trillion. The country’s 
wastewater infrastructure also got a “D” grade. 
Like
 many cities in America, Flint has lost residents but still has to 
provide services like water and sewer and road maintenance within the 
same boundaries. All while bringing in less tax revenue to pay for it. 
Flint has not had the money to spend on crucial infrastructure upgrades,
 and has left old pipes in place for longer than most engineers would 
recommend. Water prices are rising in Flint, like they are in lots of 
other cities, but the quality of water is getting worse, not better.
Flint has financially
 struggled for longer than most American cities. The birthplace of 
General Motors, the city began having problems in the 1980s and 1990s 
when GM started closing plants. By 2001, its unemployment rate was 11.2 
percent, which grew every year until it reached 25 percent in 2009. 
Families began to seek opportunity elsewhere, leaving behind empty 
homes. As the city’s population declined, it struggled to come up with 
the revenue to provide basic services such as police and fire coverage 
for residents. The water system, though, was still a “cash cow,” said 
Scorsone, the professor, so Flint borrowed from the water authority to 
pay its city bills.
Flint has been buying water from Detroit since 1967. The Detroit Water and Sewer Department, in the booming post-war years, expanded
 its services, adding 1,000 square miles of territory. But as the 
population began to shrink in both Detroit and Flint, fewer customers 
were left to pay for infrastructure and services. Detroit began raising 
rates, but Flint didn’t pass those rate increases on to customers 
because residents were struggling economically and politicians worried 
they’d get voted out of office, said Scorsone. That meant that little to
 no money was spent on infrastructure upgrades.
In 2004, Detroit charged Flint $11.06 per 
million cubic foot of water. By 2013, it was charging $19.12 per million
 cubic foot, a 73 percent increase.
“It’s a combination of bad management and bad economics,” Scorsone said.
By 2011, Flint had a $15 million deficit and Michigan Governor Rick Snyder appointed an emergency manager
 to take control over the city. It was a move that upset many, since 
emergency managers are used to replace elected officials such as city 
councils and mayors and have widespread authority, but less connection 
to residents. 
In 2012, Michigan voters repealed an emergency-manager law
 that had allowed emergency managers to take over troubled cities and 
school districts. But the state legislature 
then passed a different, and more far-reaching, emergency-manager law 
later that year. A group of citizens, including some from Flint, filed a
 lawsuit arguing that the law violated their constitutional right to equal protection. In November, a judge allowed the suit to go forward. 
Unwilling
 to pay rising Detroit water costs, Genesee County, where Flint is 
located, decided to work with other Michigan counties to build a 
pipeline from Lake Huron to mid-Michigan. But the pipeline, called the 
Karegnondi Water Authority, won’t be completed until late 2016. So in 
2013, Flint decided that until the pipeline was finished, it would pump 
water from the Flint River, treat it, and sell it to residents. The plan
 would save the city much-needed money: The annual cost to treat water 
from the Flint River is $2.8 million, said Howard Croft, the city’s 
public-works director. Buying water from Detroit, on the other hand, 
costs $12 million a year.
But
 making river water safe for public use is a much more difficult task 
than treating reservoir or lake water. Rivers are subject to runoff and 
the water quality can change quickly with air temperature or heavy 
storms. Flint found this out as soon as it turned off the pumps from 
Detroit and started pumping its own water in April 2014.
Residents said they noticed the difference 
almost immediately. Melissa Mays says her water started smelling like 
rotten eggs, and had a strange tint when coming out of the faucet, 
sometimes blue, sometimes yellowish.
Claire McClinton, a GM retiree, said her house began to smell like garbage. Another resident, Bethany
 Hazard, says her water started coming out of the faucet brown and 
smelling like a sewer, and when she called the city to complain, she was
 told the water was fine. 
The water was not fine. First, tests showed there was fecal coliform bacteria
 in the water, and the city had to issue numerous boil advisories to 
citizens. In response, engineers upped the amount of chlorine in its 
water, leading to dangerously high levels of trihalomethanes,
 or TTHMs, which put Flint in violation of the Clean Water Act. TTHMs 
are especially dangerous when inhaled, making showering in hot water 
toxic.
By October, GM, which still has a plant in 
Flint, had started noticing that the water was corroding parts of its 
engines. The plant switched off the Flint water, and started trucking in
 water from elsewhere. It asked the city for permission to use water 
from Flint Township, rather than the city of Flint (Flint Township was 
still buying water from Detroit), and switched back to Detroit water, 
said spokesman Tom Wickham.
LeeAnne
 Walters didn’t notice any changes right away. But a few months after 
the switch, she noticed that her children were getting rashes between 
their fingers, on their shins, on the back of their knees. Her 
four-year-old son, who has a compromised immune system, started breaking
 out into scaly rashes whenever he swam in their salt-water pool, which 
he’d used since birth. Then Walters’ 14-year-old son got extremely sick 
and missed a month of school.
So she sent her water off to Marc Edwards, a Virginia Tech environmental engineering professor who had forced the CDC to admit it had misled the public about the amount of lead in D.C.’s water.
Edwards was shocked when he found that Walters’
 lead content was 13,000 parts per billion. The EPA recommends keeping 
lead content below 15 parts per billion.
“At first I didn’t believe the results because they were the worst I’d ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot,” Edwards told me.
None
 of the samples Walters sent were safe to drink. Some had lead content 
of 200 parts per billion. Over 30 samples, the average lead content was 
2,000 parts per billion, which meant that no matter how long Walters let
 her taps run, it still would have been toxic. This could easily have 
been causing the health problems that Walters and her children were 
experiencing.
“Lead is the best known neurotoxin, it 
adversely impacts every system in the human body,” Edwards told me. 
“Certainly it could have caused children’s lead poisoning.”
The
 city says it does not know why so much lead was found in Walters’ 
pipes, but Edwards has a theory: Many cities have lead pipes, and when 
water sits in those pipes, the lead can leech into the water. So cities 
usually add corrosion-control chemicals, such as phosphates, to keep the
 lead out of the water. But because Flint didn’t take such precautions when they began pumping their own water, “the public health protection was gone,” Edwards says.
The
 water situation has made people furious with the city, and with the 
emergency-manager system of government. Residents say Flint first 
learned about the high levels of TTHMs in May 2014, but didn’t inform 
residents until January. City meetings have devolved into a mob of angry
 residents yelling at the emergency manager.
“We still 
don’t have a true democracy,” said Claire McClinton, the retiree. “As 
soon as [the emergency manager] sets foot in your city, your local 
government is gone.” In March, Flint’s city council voted to “do all things necessary”
 to once again purchase water from Detroit, but the city’s emergency 
manager nixed the vote, calling it “incomprehensible.” The emergency 
manager stepped down in April, announcing that the city was on firmer 
financial footing, but one of his last orders was that the city council could not change any of his orders for a year, including the order to switch to Flint water.
Flint last week sent out yet another
 notice that tap water had higher than acceptable levels of TTHMs. There
 are currently two lawsuits pending about the water issues, one of which
 questions the city’s financial accounting, another demands that the city go back to Detroit water because Flint’s water quality is so poor. 
Many
 Flint residents have a visceral reaction to the water problem, and have
 focused their attention on the emergency manager, on their city’s 
finances, and on the unfairness of their situation.
“How many times can they kick the people who live here?” Melissa Mays asked me in frustration.
But
 it’s not one emergency manager, or one bad decision about pumping water
 from the Flint River that has led these problems—and that might be the 
scariest part of all. Neglected infrastructure is really to blame, but 
it’s not quite as satisfying to blame old pipes as it is to blame the 
people in charge. And the city’s financial woes have a lot to do with 
its shrinking population, but it’s hard to blame the people who left in 
hopes of finding employment or a better life elsewhere.
Eroding infrastructure isn’t unique to Flint. Things just broke down there first.
In
 a report released to its members last month, the American Water Works 
Association warned that many utilities across the country won’t have the
 money to perform much-needed infrastructure upgrades over the upcoming 
decades. Utilities are seeing water sales declining as households and 
commercial clients become more efficient, but, like Flint, still have to
 provide the same infrastructure as before with less revenue.
“There
 is a gap between the financial needs of water and wastewater systems 
and the means to pay for these services through rates and fees,” the report read.
“They
 don’t have money to even do the best practices according to our 
currently lousy best practices,” says Edwards, of Virginia Tech. “They 
have even less money than normal to address these very, very expensive 
problems.”