'Toxic Town' features real-life, toxic-tort tragedy in UK

Premiering on February 27, Toxic Town (IMDb), a compelling new miniseries on Netflix, fictionalizes a true story of toxic tort in England.

The show couldn't have been timed better for my 1L Torts students' study of public nuisance, which we just completed. The real-life events of Toxic Town are sometimes called "the British 'Erin Brockovich.'" The facts are even more like the case of water contamination in Woburn, Mass., which was the subject of A Civil Action, though Toxic Town makes much of the cadmium in circulating dust as key to opening up the case. 

In the Toxic Town matter, the town of Corby had its water supply poisoned by a defunct steelworks in East Midlands, England, resulting in a cluster of birth defects in the 1980s and 1990s. The courts ultimately ruled in favor of complainants for public nuisance against the local government, which was willfully sloppy in trying to rehabilitate the old steelworks and was not forthcoming with information when challenged. The parties settled confidentially on appeal in 2010. There's more about the true story at Esquire, Time, and BBC.

I don't know enough about British tort law to assess the portrayal of the legal case in Toxic Town. There are some compelling points that suggest the series as a worthwhile study in comparative law. The plaintiff solicitors and barristers refer to a standard of "knowing negligence," which sounds to me closer to recklessness than to negligence in American tort law. The plaintiffs' expert says he must testify with 95% certainty, an extraordinary bar. That requirement causes the plaintiff lawyers to trim their client class. In the court proceedings, a bench trial in the British system, there is testimony that would be excluded for fear of prejudice in an American jury trial. The miniseries also makes much of political tensions within the defendant town council, including a cover-up, implicating the freedom of information. I would welcome an opportunity to study further the similarities and differences here between U.S. and UK law.

The all-star cast of four-episode Toxic Town includes former Doctor Who Jodie Whittaker as the lead "Erin Brockovich" character, based on real-life mother-plaintiff Susan McIntyre. My beloved Robert Carlyle, Trainspotting's "Begbie," plays a town councilor with a conscience. The immediately recognizable Rory Kinnear plays the Civil-Action-Travolta-like plaintiff lawyer, Des Collins. Another favorite actor of mine, Michael Socha—Being Human (UK), and a co-alum with Carlyle of Once Upon a Time—plays the Whittaker character's unreliable love interest.

IP, business stories of Tupperware bankruptcy minimize female marketing pioneer, dangers of plastics

Brownie Wise on Business Week in 1954
via America Comes Alive; © fair use

The Tupperware bankruptcy has been much in the news, though the coverage has underplayed "the rest of the story" in regard to women in business and product liability.

Headlines about the bankruptcy of Tupperware suggest various takeaways for business and law. Most stories highlight the inevitable expiry of novelty in business, with the corollary imperative to innovate (Atlantic, Sept. 20). Legal angles complement coverage with intellectual property lessons on the limited life of patents (Slate) and the problem of genericization in trademark (N.Y. Times). The history and nostalgia of Tupperware is a consistent theme (Atlantic, Apr. 12).

Less often told is the story of women in business. The CBS Evening News Saturday night credited Tupperware founder Earl Tupper with having come up with the Tupperware party as a sales strategy. That's not accurate, except in a "buck stops here" sense. The role of the remarkable Brownie Wise is less often told (mentioned: Atlantic, N.Y. Times). Rachel's Vintage & Retro has the more nuanced inside story. The National Women's History Museum and Smithsonian have more. Wise, from Buford, Georgia, graced the cover of Business Week in 1954 (pictured, via America Comes Alive). PBS recounted:

While Earl Tupper hated the limelight, Brownie Wise loved it. With Tupper's blessing, the company's public relations staff promoted Wise extensively. Female executives were rare, and the strategy worked. As the company grew, Wise was on talk shows, quoted by newspapers, and pictured on the cover of numerous magazines (she was the first woman to make the cover of Business Week). But when the press suggested Wise was responsible for Tupperware's success, and that she could be equally successful selling any product, Earl Tupper grew jealous. Over time, Wise became increasingly high-handed, and she was less patient with Tupper's micro-management and unpredictable temper. In 1958, Earl Tupper unceremoniously and abruptly fired her, booting her from the multi-million dollar company she had helped build; she held no company stock and was given just one year's salary.

Journalist Bob Kealing published a book about Wise if you want to go all in. Life of the Party (2016) followed up Kealing's Tupperware, Unsealed (2008). The Takeaway at WNYC interviewed Kealing in 2016.

With regard to women in business, by the way, CBS Sunday Morning just featured GM CEO Mary Barra, who appears to be going strong in the role ten years on. I remember when Jon Stewart on The Daily Show made fun of GM's ham-fisted introduction of a first female CEO ("a car gal, an auto dame, a jalopy broad"). It seemed that Barra was practically set up to fail amid GM's embarrassing ignition-switch recall.

Phillip Pessar via Flickr CC BY 2.0

Further in the vein of product liability, another angle on Tupperware that gets little play lies at the intersection of tort law and environmental protection. Stories of Tupperware tend to hail Tupper's inventiveness in converting DuPont's wartime development of polyethylene to post-war market ubiquity. But in the last decade, revelations of risky chemical seepage from microwaved containers did untold damage to a business built on plastic food storage.

BPA is just one chemical contaminant from plastics. Its use in manufactured products has spawned EU regulation and American litigation over baby bottles and activewear, as well as consumer protection litigation over "BPA-free" green-washing. Tupperware stopped using BPA in 2010 and developed a purportedly microwave-safe line of products under the brand name "Tupperwave" (not to be confused with Australian musician Dean Terry). But the safety of any plastic in the microwave remains uncertain. And microwave ovens notwithstanding, there's plenty of justified public concern over microplastic waste in the environment, animals, and people. 

So maybe Tupperware was always destined for only finite fame. Or maybe it will reinvent itself like Teflon, another DuPont invention that seems likely to survive an accountability assault.

Public records make $363m toxic-tort verdict possible

Condensed ethylene oxide, a carcinogen.

102% Yield via Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0

Public records made possible a $363m verdict in a toxic tort case in September.

For the ABA Journal, attorneys Jennifer M. Cascio, Lance D. Northcutt, and Patrick A. Salvi II wrote about how they won the verdict in an Illinois jury trial (limited free access). They explained:

In August 2018, a federal report revealed that a small community southwest of Chicago had an elevated cancer risk due to emissions of a carcinogen from two innocuous buildings situated between a Target and a Denny’s. Those buildings were operated by the medical device sterilization company Sterigenics, which had been releasing a colorless, odorless human carcinogen [ethylene oxide] since 1985 without any warning to the surrounding community that included homes, schools, businesses and parks—all within a mile.

Bringing such a case is easier said than done; I know because I saw it in Erin Brockovich and A Civil Action. Seriously, though, even at the pleading stage, showing evidence of proximate causation between a toxic substance and specific plaintiffs' illnesses is a towering hurdle, much less the proof that would be needed to win a trial. And a plaintiff that cannot get over the pleading hurdle cannot get discovery.

It's noteworthy, then, that, as described, this case started with a public federal report and proceeded thanks in part to the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA). Especially burdened by a dearth of relevant epidemiological evidence, the plaintiff lawyers wrote that they amassed the necessary evidence of causation by "gather[ing] documents via Freedom of Information Act requests and digging through state and federal databases."

We like to think that our not insubstantial regulatory state is using the resources that it itself produces to safeguard public health. For whatever reason, and there are many reasons, that's the exception to the rule. America rather relies heavily on the tort system as a first-line accountability mechanism. FOIA is vital to bridge the gap between public and private enforcement. 

The case moreover shows the importance of affirmative disclosures of scientific information through publicly available databases. Here, fortunately for affected persons, plaintiff lawyers were on the hunt for evidence. No doubt, though, some victims did not know they were victims of pollution, a colorless, odorless gas, no less, until they saw an attorney's ad. FOIA without affirmative disclosure is useless when people don't know there's a reason to be asking questions. Cancer sufferers might have other things on their minds.

The case, one of more than 700 of its kind against the same defendant, is Kamuda v. Sterigenics, U.S. LLC, No. 2018-L-010475 (Ill. Cir. Ct. verdict Sept. 19, 2022).