A story can come from anywhere. A question, a curious news tip or hints of intrigue just below the surface.
This particular story started with a press release. To be more precise, it started with a piece of information that wasn’t in a press release, and it ballooned into a gripping tale of modern day America.
Late last year officials with the state’s Department Ecology announced a great success. Of the 97 major polluters in the state required to buy allowances for their greenhouse gas emissions, 96 did exactly what they were supposed to do.
But who was that lone holdout? And why did they fall flat on such a high-profile environmental regulation?
We had to know more. That company, Cosmo Specialty Fibers, is a defunct pulp mill along the south banks of the Chehalis River and about 100 miles southwest of Seattle.
Calls to its owner, a British investment banker named Richard Bassett, revealed grandiose plans. He promised to square things with the state as soon as the mill was up and running again. First he needs to shake federal regulators off his back so other investors would jump onto his project and rain money all over the small city of Cosmopolis (and themselves).
Bassett chalked up his failure to participate in the state’s fledgling carbon market as an oversight.
What a costly oversight. Just that one mistake could lead to fines of $10,000 a day or more. And what about those federal regulators? Does the mill have a longer history with the state as well?
Turned out there was a lot more to this story. Cosmo Specialty Fibers has a long and complicated history with the tiny community in Grays Harbor County, as does Bassett.
Drips of information turned into a steady stream with more interviews and investigation.
Not only does Bassett, the mill’s latest owner, owe hundreds of thousands of dollars in fines and fees to the state, but he must also make major repairs worth tens of millions just to get the place up and running again. He doesn’t have the cash on hand and investors are skittish so long as the federal government looms overhead.
Bassett has petitioned for leniency or help from federal officials but he’s mostly met opposition. All the while he’s bleeding money on a property that’s not bringing any back in.
The carbon market was only the latest issue. Bassett now has until May to buy the allowances he needs or face penalties. He said he’s working on it.
But in September Ecology cited the mill for dangerous waste violations and issued a $42,000 fine.
At least twice more the state fined the mill for breaching wastewater pollution limits, in 2022 and 2015, accumulating more than $24,000 in fines. Bassett owned a minority stake in the company when it was cited for the older violations.
Additional violations issued by Ecology extend back much further and include discharge violations, reporting and monitoring violations, industrial spills and more.
For the problems under his watch, Bassett pushes back against the state, arguing the most recent violation is overly dramatic and unnecessary. He insists he shouldn’t have to buy carbon allowances when the business isn’t running.
Even aside from the environmental violations, the business still owes Ecology at least $437,446.25 in air and water permitting fees, state spokesperson Brittny Goodsell confirmed. Ecology can revoke these permits but state officials would rather the business comply than pull the plug.
These are just Bassett’s problems with the state. The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency is another matter entirely. Federal officials stepped in last year after Bassett failed to keep power, water and security running at the site. They issued what’s called a “unilateral administrative order” to force the issue.
The order hangs over the property like a cloud, Bassett said. In December he wrote to then-U. S. Rep. Derek Kilmer asking for help.
Here’s where Freedom of Information Act Requests come in handy.
In this correspondence, obtained by The Seattle Times, Bassett argued in December that the EPA’s “regulatory assault” is preventing the business from reopening. He claimed ignorance, declined the mill ran afoul of any regulations and painted the federal order as a way to police “pre-crime.”
“I struggle to understand why the EPA is blocking us instead of helping us,” he wrote.
Kilmer retired at the end of the year and in January the EPA fired back in a letter to newly elected U.S. Rep. Emily Randall’s office.
Not only has Bassett been difficult to reach, often unresponsive, EPA officials said, but Cosmo Specialty Fibers is in poor condition, presenting “imminent and substantial endangerment to human health and the environment.”
Storage tanks on the site are leaking acid, the EPA’s acting regional administrator wrote. Vast quantities of hazardous substances have been left unsecured. The mill has no water or electricity to prevent leaks or fires, no security measures to prevent theft or vandalism. All these conditions give rise to a “potential catastrophic release,” the letter warned.
By mid-March Bassett would not confirm whether he has restored water and power to the mill. But he repeated that the EPA’s unilateral order is hampering business and discouraging investors. Without those investors he doesn’t have the money to solve the mill’s problems.
For more than a year this cycle has continued, Bassett said, costing him millions in the process. He sees a new opportunity with the federal reorganization and looser regulations under President Donald Trump, but so far the EPA has yet to relax its grip.
