The U.S. Food and Drug Administration has abruptly withdrawn a proposed rule that would have mandated standardized testing for asbestos in talc-based cosmetics, igniting fierce backlash from public health advocates who warn it leaves consumers exposed to a known carcinogen. Announced in the Federal Register on November 28, 2025, the decision pulls back a regulation rooted in the 2022 Modernization of Cosmetics Regulation Act (MoCRA), which Congress passed to tighten oversight on beauty products after decades of contamination scandals. Critics call the move a dangerous rollback that prioritizes industry convenience over lives, especially as talc—ubiquitous in powders, blushes, and eye shadows—continues to test positive for asbestos fibers linked to mesothelioma, ovarian cancer, and lung disease.
Talc, a soft mineral prized for its moisture-absorbing and silky texture, has long been a staple in cosmetics, from baby powder to foundation. But its mining often occurs near asbestos deposits, leading to inevitable contamination. There is no safe exposure level to asbestos, a fibrous mineral classified as a human carcinogen by the World Health Organization. Studies dating back to the 1970s have documented repeated findings of asbestos in talc products, disproportionately affecting Black women who historically used talc-based powders for feminine hygiene. Johnson & Johnson, facing thousands of lawsuits, yanked its talcum baby powder from North American shelves in 2020 after internal documents revealed awareness of asbestos risks since the 1950s.
The scrapped rule, proposed on December 27, 2024, would have required manufacturers to test talc ingredients or finished cosmetics before market release, using FDA-approved methods to detect and identify asbestos. Non-compliance would deem products adulterated under the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act, triggering recalls and penalties. Recordkeeping for seven years would have ensured transparency, addressing gaps in the voluntary testing regime that allowed flawed methods—detecting only some fiber types—to persist.
So why the reversal? The FDA cited public comments from the rule’s docket, including concerns from trade groups like the National Association of Manufacturers about false positives. They argued that imperfect tests could wrongly flag safe batches, hiking costs, disrupting supply chains, and inviting litigation. “Companies would be impacted by the loss of batches or lots of cosmetic talc wrongly identified as containing asbestos,” wrote Christopher Phalen, the group’s vice president, in submissions. The agency also invoked “Make America Healthy Again” (MAHA) priorities under the Trump administration, promising a broader reevaluation of asbestos exposure across products like drugs and supplements.
Health experts aren’t buying it. Scott Faber, vice president of government affairs at the Environmental Working Group (EWG), slammed the withdrawal as “dangerous and irresponsible,” noting that “nothing could make America less healthy than having a cancer-causing product in cosmetics.” The EWG, which lobbied for MoCRA, insists testing is the only safeguard, and the pullback defies Congress’s explicit mandate. “Today’s action is also illegal,” Faber added, hinting at potential legal challenges.
The American Cancer Society echoes these fears, urging consumers to swap talc for cornstarch-based alternatives amid ongoing contamination risks. Talc isn’t confined to makeup; it sneaks into candies, gums, and tablets, amplifying the stakes. Former FDA director Dr. Scott Gottlieb highlighted in research that even trace asbestos inhalation or genital application could elevate long-term cancer odds, particularly for frequent users.
In a statement to The New York Times, an FDA spokesperson vowed a “more comprehensive” future rule, including safer additives and cost-effective alternatives to talc. But timelines remain vague, leaving a regulatory vacuum. RFK Jr., the administration’s health czar, reportedly signed off on the order, aligning with his deregulatory bent despite his anti-toxin rhetoric.
For everyday users, the message is clear: scrutinize labels and opt for talc-free options from brands like Burt’s Bees or The Body Shop. As lawsuits mount—over 50,000 against talc makers—this saga underscores a bitter truth: consumer safety often battles corporate bottom lines. Will the FDA’s promised overhaul deliver? Or is this just another delay in a 50-year fight against invisible poison? With holiday shopping underway, millions of makeup bags hold a hidden gamble—one the agency just declined to defuse.