[continued from previous message]   
      
   system built around predefined methods and industry-supplied data. “We   
   assess risk based on what we’re given, and what the framework allows us to   
   assess,” Url said. “But science evolves faster than legislation. That’s   
   always the tension.”   
      
   EFSA also works under constraints that its pharmaceutical counterpart, the   
   European Medicines Agency, does not. “EMA distributes money to national   
   agencies,” Url said. “We don’t. There’s less integration, less shared   
   work. We rely on member states volunteering experts. We’re not in the same   
   league.”   
      
   Url didn’t sound defensive. If anything, he sounded like someone who’s   
   been pushing against institutional gravity for a long time. He described   
   EFSA as an agency charged with assessing a food system worth trillions —   
   but working with limited scientific resources, and within a regulatory   
   model that was never designed to capture the risks of chronic diseases   
   like Parkinson’s.   
      
   “We don’t get the support we need to coordinate across Europe,” he said.   
   “Compared to the economic importance of the whole agri-food industry …   
   it’s breadcrumbs.”   
      
   But he drew a sharp line when it came to responsibility. “The question of   
   what’s safe enough — that’s not ours to answer,” he said. “That’s a   
   political decision.” EFSA can flag a risk. It’s up to governments to   
   decide whether that risk is acceptable.   
      
   It was a careful way of saying what Bloem had said more bluntly: Science   
   may illuminate the path, but policy chooses where — and whether — to walk   
   it. And in a food system shaped by powerful interests, that choice is   
   rarely made in a vacuum.   
      
   “There are gaps,” Url said, “and we’ve said that.”   
      
   But gaps in science don’t always lead to action. Especially when the cost   
   of precaution is seen as an economic threat.   
      
   The doctor who won’t slow down   
   Evidence from the field is becoming harder to ignore. In France, a   
   nationwide study found that Parkinson’s rates were significantly higher in   
   vineyard regions that rely heavily on fungicides. Another study found that   
   areas with higher agricultural pesticide use — often measured by regional   
   spending — tend to have higher rates of Parkinson’s, suggesting a dose-   
   response relationship. In Canada and the U.S., maps of Parkinson’s   
   clusters track closely with areas of intensive agriculture.   
      
   The Netherlands has yet to produce comparable data. But Bloem believes   
   it’s only a matter of time.   
      
   “If we mapped Parkinson’s here, we’d find the same patterns,” he says. “We   
   just haven’t looked yet.”   
      
      
   In fact, early signs are already emerging. The Netherlands, known for   
   having one of the highest pesticide use rates in Europe, has seen a 30   
   percent rise in Parkinson’s cases over the past decade — a slower increase   
   than in some other regions of the world, but still notable, Bloem says. In   
   farming regions like the Betuwe, on the lower reaches of the Rhine River,   
   physiotherapists have reported striking local clusters. One village near   
   Arnhem counted over a dozen cases.   
      
   “I don’t know of a single farmer who’s doing things purposely wrong,”   
   Bloem says. “They’re just following the rules. The problem is, the rules   
   are wrong.”   
      
   To Bloem, reversing the epidemic means shifting the regulatory mindset   
   from reaction to prevention. That means requiring long-term neurotoxicity   
   studies, testing chemical combinations, accounting for real-world   
   exposure, genetic predisposition and the kind of brain damage Parkinson’s   
   causes — and critically, making manufacturers prove safety, rather than   
   scientists having to prove harm.   
      
   “We don’t ban parachutes after they fail,” Bloem says. “But that’s what we   
   do with chemicals. We wait until people are sick.”   
      
   His team is also studying prevention-focused interventions — including   
   exercise, diet and stress reduction — in people already diagnosed with   
   Parkinson’s, in one of the most comprehensive trials of its kind. Still,   
   Bloem is realistic about the limits of individual action.   
      
   “You can’t exercise your way out of pesticide exposure,” he says. “We need   
   upstream change.”   
      
   Bloem has seen it before — the same pattern playing out in slow motion.   
   “Asbestos,” he says “Lead in gasoline. Tobacco. Every time, we acted   
   decades after the damage was done.” The science existed. The evidence had   
   accumulated. But the decision to intervene always lagged. “It’s not that   
   we don’t know enough,” he adds. “It’s that the system is not built to   
   listen when the answers are inconvenient.”   
      
      
   The clinic has grown quiet. Most of the staff have left for the day, the   
   corridors are still. Bloem gathers his things, but he’s not finished yet.   
   One more phone call to make — something he’ll take, as always, while   
   walking. As we stand up to go into the hallway, he pauses.   
      
   “If we don’t fix this now,” he says, “we’re going to look back in 50 years   
   and ask: ‘What the hell were we thinking?’”   
      
   He slips on a pair of black headphones, nods goodbye and turns toward the   
   exit. Outside, he’s already striding across the Radboud campus, talking   
   into the cold evening air — still moving, still making calls, still trying   
   to bend a stubborn system toward change.   
      
   https://www.politico.eu/article/bas-bloem-parkinsons-pesticides-mptp-   
   glyphosate-paraquat/   
      
   --- SoupGate-DOS v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)