Commentary
We are often told that the water we drink today is the same water that has always existed on Earth. The planet operates in a largely closed hydrological system. Water evaporates from oceans, condenses into clouds, falls as rain, runs through rivers, seeps into aquifers, rises through plant roots, circulates through animals, and returns again to the sky. There are small cycles and large cycles, but very little leaves.
Water changes form. It moves. But it does not disappear.
That matters.
Because at the same time, we are told that certain agricultural chemicals “break down” or “leave the field” after a number of years. Glyphosate is highly water soluble. It binds to soil particles but also moves with runoff. It degrades through microbial action into byproducts like AMPA, which are also persistent. It has been detected in surface water, in rainfall, in groundwater, and in human urine—even among people who eat organic diets.
So when we are told it takes years to get it “off” a field, the more honest question is: off to where?
Into streams.
Into sediment.
Into aquifers.
Into rain.
Water is the transport system.
Recently, President Donald Trump issued an executive order framing glyphosate production as a national security priority. Last week, I wrote that from a purely agricultural and geopolitical standpoint, I understand that reasoning. Our farming system has been engineered around this chemistry. We have designed seeds, yields, and trade relationships with the assumption that it will remain available. In that narrow sense, its sudden removal would destabilize production. On that level, yes, it functions as a national security issue.
But national security is not the only lens available to us.
The stability of an agricultural model is one category of security. The long-term biological security of the people who inhabit that system is another.
And water is not inert.
For decades, we were taught to think of water as simple H2O—a passive solvent. But research in biophysics suggests it may be more dynamic than that. Gerald Pollack and others have demonstrated that when water interfaces with hydrophilic biological surfaces, it forms a structured region he calls the “fourth phase” of water, or Exclusion Zone water. This phase excludes solutes and carries a measurable negative electrical charge relative to surrounding bulk water, creating a battery-like separation of charge. Infrared light expands this structured zone.
In other words, water inside living systems is electrically active and structurally organized. It is not merely a neutral background fluid.
Other researchers, including Veda Austin, have explored whether water’s crystalline structure reflects environmental inputs in ways we do not yet fully understand. Her work remains debated in mainstream science, but it reinforces something important: water reorganizes structurally in response to temperature, surfaces, dissolved minerals, and chemical exposure. It is responsive to its environment.
And it circulates through everything.
The adult human body is roughly 60 percent water by weight. By volume, that number is even higher—closer to 70 percent or more depending on body composition. Infants are composed of an even greater proportion of water. Breast milk is nearly 87 percent water. A child develops suspended in amniotic fluid. Blood plasma is primarily water. Cells themselves are largely structured water surrounding proteins and membranes.
Water moves through soil, plant, animal, cloud, and womb. It is the great circulatory system of the Earth.
When we introduce billions of pounds of a water-soluble, long-lasting chemical into fields, fence lines, food crops, and public spaces every year, we are not introducing it into an isolated system. In a closed hydrological cycle, there is no true containment. Water migrates. It infiltrates. It evaporates and returns. It dissolves and redistributes.
The water goes everywhere because water connects everything.
If the medium that composes most of our bodies is continuously carrying the residues of synthetic chemistry, year after year, decade after decade, what are we normalizing? What are we accumulating? What are we passing on?
From a narrow policy perspective, glyphosate may be framed as essential to national security. I understand that argument. But the security of human life and long-term biological integrity is another question entirely.
If water is the medium of life—and if we are continuously loading that medium with persistent chemistry—we have to ask ourselves which form of security ultimately takes precedence.
Where does it go?
It goes into the water.
And the water becomes us.
Water does not disappear.
So again, where does it go?
Views expressed in this article are the opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.
