The Hightower Report

Read the Fine Print

It's time for another trip into the Far, Far, Far-Out Frontiers of the Free Enterprise.

Today, Spaceship Hightower takes you on a perilous journey into the dark hole of commerce known as "fine print." Our intergalactic guide is Consumer Reports magazine, which always reads the fine print and reports on it monthly.

Take a squint at this ad for an exercise device, for example: It depicts before-and-after photos of a guy who has gone from chubby to svelte. It's obvious, however, that they simply superimposed the "before" guy's head on the "after" guy's body. Still, the ad copy tells potential buyers that the two photos are "genuine" and "unretouched." How can that be? A little footnote explains it: "Reader understands that by 'unretouched,' we may mean slightly altered."

Let's move on to a bright star of consumer brand names, Crest toothpaste. The label proudly proclaims, "This Crest is specially formulated to help prevent staining." Excellent, you might say – until you read the tiny type, which informs you that the active ingredient in the tube of tooth goo "may produce surface staining of teeth." Still, the company asserts that this product has a "unique whitening ingredient" to remove stains – apparently including removal of stains the toothpaste causes!

Here's another fine-print twist to cause consumer alarm. Nips candy changed its packaging last year to include a bold box on the front proclaiming, "Value Pack!" Always beware of corporate claims of giving you a good deal. Sure enough, the new package of Nips contains only 4 ounces of candy – 27% less than the old package. The price, however, did not drop even by a penny.

Then there's the coupon offering "10% off" on a service call. Except the fine print reads, "Not valid on service calls." Be careful out there.

Tony Mazzocchi

If you live near any kind of factory, chemical plant, or similar facility, you might have noticed curious smells emanating from those places. What is that stuff?

Well, thanks to a guy named Tony Mazzocchi, you and I have a legal right to know in detail what kind of and how much toxic stuff these places are releasing into our air, water, and soil. The national Right to Know program, established in the Eighties, provides precise data on these toxics, and it is invaluable to firefighters, health specialists, environmental monitors, community advocacy groups, and others.

It was not Congress – and certainly not the polluting corporations – that provided the impetus for such an essential public tool. Rather, the spark plug was Mazzocchi. A wiry, savvy, spirited labor leader (one of the best ever), Mazzocchi even coined the phrase "right to know." Around 1970, he began receiving hundreds of complaints from chemical workers about plants that were shrouded in what the corporate bosses dismissively called "dust." Mazzocchi barnstormed across America, publicizing, organizing, negotiating, and lobbying around the issue of the public's right to know about the toxics being so recklessly handled by these profiteers. He helped form grassroots coalitions that passed dozens of state and local right-to-know laws, and they finally pushed through the federal law that has forced cleanups and saved thousands of lives.

However, in 2001, George W. happened, and he's been doing his damnedest to undo Mazzocchi's work. At the behest of corporate executives who hate the pesky public, his regulators have exempted some 3,500 toxic spewers from the Right to Know law.

This is one of the first bits of regulatory monkey-wrenching that Congress or a new president must reverse. If they need inspiration to do the right thing on Right to Know, they should read the book on Mazzocchi's extraordinary life. It's titled The Man Who Hated Work and Loved Labor.