Trojan condoms—marketed and trusted for over 100 years—allegedly contain PFAS, also known as “forever chemicals.” From the very first paragraphs of Goodman’s complaint, the implications are damning: PFAS exposure has been associated with various serious health concerns, including liver damage, immunotoxicity, thyroid disorders, decreased fertility, and even heightened risk of some cancers. And yet Trojan’s packaging does not warn consumers that these substances may be present in its condoms. In a world where corporate ethics and consumer safety are so often tested by the demands of neoliberal capitalism, the facts alleged in this lawsuit underscore a broader systemic pattern—one in which corporations can prize profit over the well-being of their customers, shielded by a system of lax oversight and regulatory capture.

In recent years, PFAS has come under heightened scrutiny due to its exceptionally slow breakdown in both the human body and the environment. Public discourse increasingly recognizes that “forever chemicals” accumulate over time, remain in the bloodstream, and have been linked to a range of negative health outcomes. The legal complaint cites testing that purportedly uncovered organic fluorine—a marker for PFAS—in Trojan brand condoms. While PFAS can show up in countless consumer items, from nonstick cookware to stain-resistant carpets, its alleged presence in a product that is directly applied to sensitive bodily tissues has raised alarms from both consumers and health advocates.

How could this happen, especially given Trojan’s longstanding presence in the market and Church & Dwight’s assertions that its condoms are “triple tested” and “trusted for over 100 years”? The lawsuit posits that corporate negligence—or outright misconduct—allowed Trojan condoms to make it onto store shelves despite containing PFAS. The ramifications, if proven, would be especially troubling when we consider that condoms are widely seen not just as a contraceptive device, but also as a frontline measure for disease prevention. If the complaint’s allegations hold, those who relied on Trojan’s brand reputation and took to heart Trojan’s marketing promises might have unwittingly exposed themselves to chemicals that can linger in the body for decades.

This lawsuit is not happening in a vacuum. In an era shaped by neoliberal capitalism, companies face constant pressure to cut costs, maximize shareholder returns, and exploit gaps in regulatory oversight. Over the past several decades, as demands for corporate social responsibility have grown, so too have corporate tactics for deflection and denial. We see it in other industries: petrochemical giants that keep polluting even as they tout minimalistic “green” initiatives, pharmaceutical firms that bury negative clinical trial data, and agribusiness behemoths that quietly rely on harmful pesticides. The presence of PFAS in Trojan condoms—if these allegations are indeed verified—would be yet another example of how corporate corruption, corporate greed, and insufficient regulatory checks can compromise public health.

The complaint also underscores that these chemicals are not disclosed anywhere on Trojan condom packaging, meaning ordinary consumers would have had no way of knowing about potential contamination. In the broader context of corporate accountability, this raises pressing questions: Is the label on your product truly telling the full story of what you’re putting into or onto your body? If you cannot trust a brand that claims to be “America’s #1 Condom,” lauded for its “premium quality latex,” then how can you navigate a market saturated with similarly opaque claims and disclaimers?

In this investigative article, we will examine the allegations from the Goodman complaint and then place them in a wider social, economic, and political context. We will probe how the alleged acts of Church & Dwight fit into a pattern of corporate misconduct often observed under neoliberal capitalism—a system that normalizes maximizing profits at the expense of thorough safety testing, robust disclosures, or real accountability for potential consumer harm. Our discussion is structured into eight sections:

1. Introduction – Outlines the allegations, significance of the PFAS finding, and sets the tone for deeper exploration.
2. Corporate Intent Exposed – Delves into what we know about Church & Dwight’s motivations for producing Trojan condoms without properly disclosing PFAS.
3. The Corporate Playbook / How They Got Away with It – Examines the usual tactics companies employ to minimize scrutiny, including marketing claims and selective testing.
4. The Corporate Profit Equation – Investigates how profit-maximizing incentives might drive risk-taking, cost-cutting, or regulatory evasion.
5. System Failure / Why Regulators Did Nothing – Explores how fragmented oversight, lobbying, and regulatory capture make it possible for PFAS-laced items to slip into the marketplace.
6. This Pattern of Predation Is a Feature, Not a Bug – Locates these allegations within the broader systemic problems of neoliberal capitalism, using parallels from other industries.
7. The PR Playbook of Damage Control – Considers the crisis communications strategies used by corporations when facing lawsuits around product contamination, and how Trojan might respond.
8. Corporate Power vs. Public Interest – Reflects on possible remedies, the role of class action litigation in pushing corporate social responsibility, and the overarching tension between corporate imperatives and public health.

Over the next several thousand words, we will weave together the complaint’s allegations with a deeper reflection on the intersection of corporate ethics, deregulation, and consumer rights. In so doing, we hope to illuminate not just the alleged wrongdoing in Trojan’s condom manufacturing and marketing practices, but also how these allegations fit into a pattern of predatory capitalism—and why such misdeeds so often go unpunished.

Ultimately this is about whether our current economic system truly protects consumers from corporate exploitation and potential harm, or whether it leaves them vulnerable to hidden health dangers. It is about corporate corruption, corporate pollution, and the dangers to public health. It is about wealth disparity and how those with the least capacity to absorb harm often bear the brunt of corporate decisions. It is about whether the institutions ostensibly designed to safeguard us can fulfill their mandate or if they, too, have fallen prey to the unrelenting pressure of profit over everything else.

Let us begin with a closer look at the allegations in the Goodman lawsuit, which present a narrative of corporate intent gone astray and corporate accountability in question.

---

2. Corporate Intent Exposed

In the eyes of the Goodman lawsuit, Trojan’s alleged failure to disclose the presence of PFAS in its condoms stands as a depressing example of what can happen when corporate ethics lose the battle against profit motives. Whether that alleged failure resulted from negligence or from a deliberate marketing strategy, the complaint highlights a central point: consumers purchased Trojan condoms expecting a product free of harmful contaminants and ended up with something else entirely.

While the publicly available complaint does not present a “smoking gun” memo, it does portray the alleged harm as the result of a clear set of corporate decisions. Church & Dwight Co., Inc. is no minor player; it is a major American manufacturer responsible for a vast array of household brands. The Trojan line, with over 30 condom varieties, is one of its flagship products, presumably generating significant revenues. The allegations go beyond a mere product defect: they imply that Church & Dwight either knew, or should have known, that the condoms contained PFAS. The complaint states that the condoms tested positive for organic fluorine, a reliable indicator of PFAS, and that Trojan never warned consumers about the risk.

Corporate intent is often discerned from patterns: marketing that emphasizes safety and reliability; product packaging that touts “triple tested” credentials; slogans such as “trusted for over 100 years,” suggesting longstanding expertise and consumer welfare as paramount priorities. In the legal realm, these representations can become the basis for fraud or warranty claims if they turn out to be misleading, because they create an expectation that the product meets certain standards of purity, safety, and effectiveness. Trojan’s marketing led consumers like Matthew Goodman to believe that Trojan condoms are safe for regular intimate use—even though, if the allegations are true, the condom’s lubrication or latex might introduce chemicals that “persist and accumulate over time,” the hallmark of PFAS.

One cannot help but wonder about the underlying calculus that might lead to the alleged presence of PFAS in the condoms. Modern supply chains are complex, often involving multiple raw materials suppliers, component manufacturers, and third-party labs. Even if Church & Dwight itself did not intentionally add PFAS, the question arises: Did the company audit the rubber or lubrication suppliers thoroughly for known contaminants? Did it ignore red flags, or was it lulled into complacency by an assumption that consumer goods are rarely tested for this sort of contamination? In the broader context of corporate accountability, these questions highlight how the push to get products to market at a particular price point can sometimes overshadow deeper concerns for health and safety.

At the root of the lawsuit’s fraud allegations lies the premise that Church & Dwight had an obligation to disclose potentially hazardous chemicals, especially in a product intended for contact with sensitive areas of the human body. This alleged failure is not just a footnote in the saga of Trojan condoms—rather, it is central to the claim that the company violated consumer trust. From the perspective of consumer advocacy, labeling and disclosures are fundamental to the concept of informed choice. As soon as Trojan decided to tout its brand as “#1,” to boast “premium quality latex,” and to promise “triple tested” safety, it entered into an unwritten contract with the consumer: “We have done our due diligence, and our condoms are safe.” The lawsuit, however, alleges that by omitting any mention of PFAS, Trojan did precisely the opposite.

So why would a corporation risk so much to conceal or overlook the possibility of PFAS in its condoms? Some point to the burdens of additional testing. Others note the risk of raising public alarm and subsequently damaging sales. In a highly competitive market for sexual health products, brand reputation is paramount. Trojan’s longevity in the marketplace—over 100 years—has cultivated a near-universal reputation for reliability. If Church & Dwight were to disclose that it found even trace amounts of PFAS, the negative publicity and potential regulatory scrutiny might be substantial. Critics argue that, in a neoliberal capitalist system that demands unwavering quarterly profits, companies often consider the costs of disclosure and potential liability cheaper than the costs of reformulating or thoroughly investigating supply-chain contaminants.

This tension—between the brand’s emphasis on consumer trust and the alleged failure to come clean—exposes the underlying corporate intent. Whether we label it as willful negligence or a more systematic compliance failure, the outcome is the same: PFAS allegedly ended up in a product marketed as the safer choice. In that sense, the Trojan condom story becomes about more than the alleged presence of a toxic chemical; it is about how companies handle—and arguably manipulate—consumer expectations and anxieties.

The complaint also notes that many “reasonable consumers purchased Trojan condoms under the belief that they do not contain synthetic chemicals that could adversely impact their health.” This is a powerful statement about public perception of condoms as a prophylactic measure against disease and an essential tool of safe sex, not a conduit for harmful substances. Many lawsuits in the product liability sphere revolve around the notion that the consumer is forced to “bargain in the dark,” lacking the inside knowledge that the manufacturer holds. When that knowledge gap is left unaddressed—or worse, is exploited—corporate wrongdoing can flourish. This is precisely what the Goodman lawsuit contends: that Trojan condoms’ labeling and advertising overshadowed a hidden reality.

Within the broader scope of corporate ethics, such allegations—if true—reveal a chilling dynamic. When corporations fail to fully disclose known or suspected risks, they treat human bodies and well-being as something negotiable, easily sacrificed on the altar of profit. They rely on consumers’ trust and even on regulators’ limited bandwidth, letting entire markets become unwitting participants in a grand experiment where short-term profit triumphs over long-term safety. In a product as personal as a condom, that betrayal of trust is particularly acute.

For now, the complaint presents the alleged corporate intent as one that placed sales growth and brand reputation above the known hazards or suspected hazards of PFAS. Later sections of this article will address how such practices align with a broader, well-documented “corporate playbook” of secrecy, denial, and protective marketing. We will also discuss the oversight vacuum that might allow such alleged misconduct to remain invisible until someone like Matthew Goodman tests the product in a lab. Corporate intent, in that sense, is often laid bare only once the system’s cracks expand enough for a lawsuit to shine daylight onto them.

---

3. The Corporate Playbook / How They Got Away with It

When a major consumer brand comes under scrutiny for alleged product contamination, the pattern we often see is surprisingly consistent across industries. Plaintiffs file a complaint, claiming that undisclosed chemicals or harmful components were never revealed by the company. A flurry of media coverage ensues, replete with consumer outrage and calls for corporate accountability. Then, the corporation in question frequently moves to minimize the fallout—through carefully worded press releases, possibly selective testing reports, and disclaimers that aim to quell consumer alarm.

In the Trojan condoms case, the lawsuit insists that Church & Dwight took advantage of an all-too-common environment: one in which neither regulators nor the average consumer is rigorously testing everyday products for obscure but potentially dangerous chemicals such as PFAS. How do companies “get away with it”? The short answer often involves a combination of lax regulation, limited transparency, and sophisticated marketing campaigns that drown out concerns.

1. Control of Messaging

One of the most potent elements of the corporate playbook is its control over messaging. Trojan condoms’ branding—emphasizing “premium quality latex,” “trusted for over 100 years,” and “triple tested”—provides an aura of reliability that discourages consumers from suspecting hidden dangers. When companies pour resources into branding and repeated reassurances of safety, consumers internalize the message that the product undergoes rigorous scrutiny. This sense of assuredness is particularly easy to cultivate around medical or personal-care items, where brand reputation matters immensely. By saturating the market with these core messages, Trojan presumably established a powerful emotional bond with customers—one that places the brand in the role of a protective ally.

In practice, the complaint indicates that Trojan did not mention PFAS or the possibility of its presence anywhere on the product packaging. If a consumer had never heard of PFAS contamination in other consumer products, or had no reason to suspect “forever chemicals” in condoms, they would likely have no impetus to question Trojan’s claims of being “America’s #1 Condom.” The complaint underscores that the product labeling is essentially silent about any potential chemical hazard, and silence in these contexts can be just as powerful as an outright misstatement.

2. Limited Public Knowledge of PFAS

A critical aspect of how Trojan allegedly avoided suspicion is that, until the last few years, PFAS was not commonly discussed in everyday consumer contexts. Though PFAS has been used for decades in household products, firefighting foams, and industrial applications, public awareness of its dangers mostly ramped up in recent years. As such, the average consumer is not likely to connect PFAS with prophylactic devices like condoms. Companies that do not emphasize the presence of potentially harmful chemicals can rely on this general lack of PFAS education to pass unnoticed. The complaint cites total organic fluorine testing—a more advanced approach that many consumers would not even know how to interpret—to bolster its allegations. Most consumers lack the means, time, or knowledge to run specialized lab tests on retail products.

3. Complex Supply Chains

Today’s global supply chains can help companies avoid direct scrutiny. Trojan condoms, for example, might source latex from overseas plantations, rely on third parties to synthesize lubricants, and then finish manufacturing under Trojan’s brand. Each step involves multiple vendors or subcontractors, making it easy for a brand to claim ignorance about specific chemicals if they are not explicitly declared by suppliers. In the context of PFAS, the complaint asks: was PFAS intentionally added to the product, or did it slip in via contamination from the manufacturing line or raw materials?

A typical corporate defense might argue that trace contaminants fall beneath regulatory thresholds or that the brand was unaware of them. In the consumer space, however, a product’s brand name typically assumes final responsibility for the product’s purity—particularly when safety claims are being marketed so prominently. The Trojan brand’s robust marketing about safety and reliability thus intensifies the sense of betrayal. Whether Church & Dwight tested for PFAS or not, the brand effectively staked its reputation on the product being safe, all while not reporting or disclosing the presence of PFAS.

4. Regulatory Limitations

The complaint also implicitly references a reality that plagues many consumer-protection issues: federal agencies like the FDA do not always aggressively scrutinize the presence of every emerging contaminant, especially if the chemical is not explicitly on their immediate watchlist or subject to an established legal limit in a particular product category. This regulatory gap is exploited by companies that do not volunteer additional information regarding chemical ingredients or contaminants. As we will see in more detail in Section 5: System Failure / Why Regulators Did Nothing, the broader system for protecting consumers from toxic chemicals often lags behind scientific research. By the time a chemical is widely recognized as harmful, that compound could have been used in thousands of products for decades. This inertia effectively allows a brand such as Trojan to distribute condoms for years without mandatory PFAS labeling or mandated testing for PFAS content.

5. The Myth of “Acceptable Exposure”

Where PFAS is concerned, another layer of the corporate playbook emerges: the argument that exposure levels are negligible or “too low to cause harm.” Companies sometimes produce internal studies or sponsor external research to show minimal risk at low doses. While the Trojan complaint does not highlight any such internal Trojan-sponsored research, in many industries, statements along these lines serve as a bulwark against liability. If a brand can argue that these trace chemicals are not dangerous enough to matter, or that they are below a government-set threshold, it can deflect blame. Yet the complaint counters this narrative by citing recent EPA advisories that suggest there may be no truly “safe” level of exposure, given PFAS’s propensity to linger in the body and accumulate.

6. Reliance on Consumer Trust

Finally, big brands count on the assumption that once a product reaches a store shelf, it has passed some minimal standard of safety. The Trojan brand, especially, is sold in pharmacies, grocery stores, and mass retailers. Pharmacies, for instance, convey a certain legitimacy. Consumers expect that sexual health products in a pharmacy are thoroughly vetted and safe, since they are often used in direct contact with mucous membranes. This default trust works in favor of corporations: unless the allegations explode into a public scandal, few buyers will suspect that a widely available brand might contain a toxic substance.

In the eyes of the lawsuit, this is precisely how Trojan “got away with it” for so long—there was no reason for the average consumer, or even many regulators, to suspect that condoms could contain PFAS. And by not disclosing the presence of these chemicals, Trojan effectively shielded itself from consumer pushback.

Summation of the Playbook

Together, these tactics—control of messaging, reliance on limited public knowledge, obfuscation through complex supply chains, navigating lax regulatory oversight, emphasizing “acceptable exposure,” and capitalizing on consumer trust—form the crux of how a corporation can sidestep accountability. Allegedly, Trojan followed this script to perfection. Only through specialized testing, conducted by or on behalf of consumers like Matthew Goodman, did the presence of PFAS come to light. This revelation now sets the stage for a major legal battle, pitting one of the largest condom manufacturers against a class of consumers who feel they have been misled.

As we move deeper into the lawsuit’s central claims, we see how Trojan’s alleged concealment of PFAS ties into the broader corporate profit equation—one that, under the rigors of neoliberal capitalism, can lead large enterprises to systematically place shareholder returns over consumer well-being.

---

4. The Corporate Profit Equation

At the heart of the Goodman lawsuit is the all-too-familiar suggestion that corporate greed overshadowed corporate social responsibility. Allegations of corporate negligence or fraud rarely exist in a vacuum. Instead, they often arise from the unrelenting mandate to maximize earnings and boost shareholder value. Church & Dwight Co., Inc., though likely shaped by many factors, is not immune to this fundamental dynamic of modern capitalism.

Why might Trojan condoms end up with undisclosed PFAS, even if the brand’s managers are presumably aware that such substances are controversial? The answer may lie in the cost calculations that define a firm’s day-to-day decisions:

1. Research and Development Costs – If Trojan discovered that PFAS (or chemicals that break down into PFAS) were present in the lubricants or latex manufacturing process, it might face substantial research and development expenditures to source alternative, safer materials. Some chemicals that perform similarly (e.g., imparting smoothness or stability) might be costlier or more difficult to incorporate. A brand is left with the choice: invest in safer ingredients or continue with the status quo?
2. Supply Chain Disruption – Attempting to eradicate PFAS from the supply chain could require new sourcing relationships, plant retrofitting, or new production lines. Large corporations typically adopt just-in-time manufacturing or other lean practices that minimize storage and control costs, but also reduce capacity for swift changes when an ingredient is flagged as problematic.
3. Regulatory and Legal Ramifications – If Trojan publicly acknowledged the presence of PFAS, it could invite lawsuits (as is now happening anyway), negative media coverage, and calls for immediate recalls. For a high-volume consumer product like condoms, any public health scare can be devastating for brand loyalty. We have seen analogous episodes in other industries, where once-trusted brands falter after controversies. In some boardrooms, executives might weigh the cost of silent inaction—“maybe no one will find out”—against the cost of taking proactive steps to address contamination.
4. Marketing Costs – Trojan invests heavily in marketing campaigns emphasizing safety, intimacy, and trust. If the brand had to revise its marketing to add disclaimers or disclaim that certain chemicals exist in the product, it would undermine carefully curated advertising narratives. Over time, a brand’s marketing identity becomes an asset in itself—one that management is reluctant to tarnish.

From the lens of neoliberal capitalism, none of these choices should be surprising. In an environment where corporations must deliver consistent quarterly growth, there is a financial incentive to ignore or obfuscate hazards that are not yet widely known to the public or enforced by regulators. In the short term, being proactive about product safety can seem like a luxury that an intensely cost-conscious business might not prioritize—especially for a mass-market commodity where profit margins can be razor-thin. At best, the brand might rely on old scientific consensus that “trace” PFAS levels are harmless; at worst, it might fail to investigate altogether, figuring that only a small fraction of consumers would ever push for testing.

Of course, from the vantage point of corporate accountability and corporate ethics, this logic can be appalling. Condoms are uniquely intimate products that can affect not just the user but also their sexual partner, potentially compounding risks. The complaint asserts that PFAS can be absorbed through skin contact with sensitive tissues and that even very low levels of PFAS might accumulate. If these allegations hold, Trojan’s decisions highlight a systemic disregard for consumer well-being in favor of preserving market advantage.

Moreover, this scenario demonstrates a disturbing alignment with the profit equation typical of industries that have also come under fire for toxic ingredients—cosmetics, food packaging, children’s products, and more. Time and again, corporations have shown a willingness to continue using suspect chemicals until public outrage, massive litigation, or direct regulatory action forces a change. One might argue that this approach belongs squarely in the realm of corporate corruption and corporate greed—that is, if the “savings” from ignoring or concealing PFAS ultimately come at the expense of the public.

Seen another way, Trojan and Church & Dwight might have balanced the short-term gains from using existing manufacturing processes against the risk that they could face lawsuits. If the brand calculates that the legal repercussions (court settlements, attorney fees, negative press) are likely to cost less than revamping the supply chain and marketing approach, it may have chosen to continue the status quo. Many critics refer to this as the “cost of doing business” mentality, a cold calculus in which consumer safety is weighed like any other line item.

In the broader narrative of neoliberal capitalism, Trojan thus becomes one more brand in a long line of corporations that rely on a sort of “information asymmetry.” The company typically knows more about its manufacturing processes than consumers do. If PFAS is not disclosed on the label, the consumer remains unaware of the exposure. Without strong external incentives or oversight, a corporation may not invest in safer ingredients or more robust testing.

This dynamic also contributes to wealth disparity and economic fallout in indirect ways: if Trojan condoms do contain PFAS, and if they contribute to health complications over time, the cost of medical treatment, environmental cleanup, or broader social damage is borne not by the corporation, but by the public and the individual consumer. This is a classic externality problem. The brand pockets the profit, while society and afflicted individuals pay for the downstream consequences—medical bills, lost wages, or intangible harm like fear and anxiety about chemical exposure.

Finally, this alleged misconduct challenges the meaning of corporate social responsibility (CSR). Many large corporations maintain glossy CSR reports and philanthropic initiatives, painting themselves as conscientious members of their communities. Yet, as lawsuits like Goodman v. Church & Dwight unfold, they reveal a gap between rhetoric and reality. Unless the brand can prove it took every precaution, the presence of PFAS in condoms is inherently at odds with the notion of social responsibility. One might wonder if Trojan or Church & Dwight tout sustainability or philanthropic programs elsewhere, all while their core product line quietly harbors harmful chemicals.

In short, the corporate profit equation is about balancing cost, risk, and reward. This lawsuit suggests that Trojan’s equation skewed dangerously away from consumer and public well-being. Even if Trojan denies wrongdoing or claims ignorance, the question remains: Why was no testing done earlier, or why were the results not disclosed to the public? The next section will outline how systemic failures in regulatory oversight arguably contribute to such outcomes, enabling corporations to sell questionable products without fear of immediate repercussions.

---

5. System Failure / Why Regulators Did Nothing

If Trojan condoms truly contain PFAS, how did our regulatory system allow it to reach store shelves without any upfront warning label or public recall? The United States prides itself on having agencies charged with safeguarding consumer health, such as the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). Yet, the alleged Trojan condom scandal points to a broader truth: regulators often lack the legal authority, resources, or political support to proactively address emerging chemical concerns, especially when no existing rule squarely addresses the precise contaminant in that particular product category.

Lax or Outdated Regulations

PFAS is a class of chemicals that only in recent years has become a topic of widespread concern. For decades, its toxicity was neither fully known nor systematically evaluated. The complaint references the EPA’s June 2022 advisory on PFAS levels in drinking water, which recognized that PFAS may be harmful at near-zero concentrations. However, the presence of PFAS in consumer products like condoms often falls into a gray area, because historically there have been no explicit laws requiring condoms to be PFAS-free or even tested for PFAS. The regulated aspects of condoms are typically limited to contraceptive effectiveness, latex allergenicity, and other narrower concerns, leaving PFAS contamination off the radar.

Regulatory Capture and Lobbying Influence

Late stage capitalism fosters close ties between large corporations and government bodies, sometimes called regulatory capture. The term captures how agencies created to regulate an industry can come under the sway of that very industry. If major manufacturers in pharmaceuticals, personal care, and household products resist stricter scrutiny, they might influence policy through lobbying or by shaping public opinion. While the lawsuit does not claim direct Trojan lobbying to stifle PFAS testing, the overall environment in which regulators operate is often shaped by well-funded corporate interests that prefer minimal interference.

Moreover, the cost and complexity of testing for every possible contaminant is enormous. Even well-intentioned regulators have limited budgets. The end result is a patchwork approach, with certain chemicals heavily regulated and others barely on the radar. By the time PFAS rose to the spotlight, it was already widespread in countless consumer goods. Regulators face the Herculean task of “catching up” to an industry that has outpaced them technologically.

Inertia of the Status Quo

Another important factor to keep in mind is bureaucratic inertia. Agencies move slowly, requiring numerous studies and risk assessments before taking decisive action. Even after the EPA issued more stringent PFAS advisories for drinking water, implementing broader PFAS regulations for consumer products can take years or decades. Industry voices often push for additional time to switch to alternatives, claiming supply chain disruptions or potential job losses. In the interim, a chemical remains in circulation, as might be the case with Trojan condoms. This dynamic fosters a policy environment where harm is done before it is prevented.

The FDA’s Limited Oversight of Condoms

Condoms are considered medical devices regulated by the FDA, but the FDA’s historical focus has primarily been on efficacy for pregnancy and STD prevention, ensuring the product itself does not tear or degrade easily. While the FDA can require manufacturers to demonstrate that condoms meet certain quality standards (like latex strength, shelf-life, and lubrication safety in basic terms), its specific PFAS guidelines are less clear. If there is no set standard for permissible PFAS levels in condoms, Trojan can argue it is in compliance simply by meeting the baseline regulatory checkpoints. This regulatory gap allows PFAS to remain undisclosed if it is not explicitly banned or restricted.

Reliance on Corporate Self-Reporting

Regulatory agencies often depend on the data that manufacturers provide about their own products. If the complaint’s allegations are correct, Trojan’s labeling and disclosures made no mention of PFAS. Without either an external impetus—such as private lab testing or a consumer complaint that triggers an investigation—regulators lack the impetus to demand further checks. In other words, Trojan had plausible deniability if it never explicitly tested for or acknowledged PFAS. Unless mandated, self-reporting can become a mere formality, with little incentive for corporations to raise their hands and say, “Our product might contain a toxic chemical.”

The Role of Class Action Litigation

In practice, lawsuits like Goodman v. Church & Dwight have become a de facto mechanism for consumer protection, stepping in where direct regulatory oversight falters. Class action lawsuits can force a spotlight on alleged corporate misconduct, bringing it to public attention, spurring media coverage, and galvanizing political will. If the lawsuit gains traction and garners a large class of plaintiffs, it can lead to internal documents being subpoenaed in discovery. This is often how regulators and the public first learn the extent of corporate knowledge about harmful contaminants.

Yet class actions are an imperfect instrument. They can stretch on for years; there is no guarantee of success; and even if plaintiffs prevail, settlement payments often come without forcing meaningful operational changes. That said, the fear of massive liability can push companies to become more transparent or to adopt safer ingredients. It remains to be seen whether Trojan will face enough public or legal pressure to significantly alter its product composition or labeling.

Economic Fallout for Communities

When system failures allow widespread distribution of potentially harmful products, entire communities and populations may suffer the economic fallout. In certain PFAS contamination cases (e.g., contaminated drinking water systems), local economies have incurred huge costs to filter water or cope with public health crises. While Trojan condoms might not produce the same scale of environmental pollution, the public health burden could manifest in increased healthcare costs, emotional distress, or decreased consumer trust in regulated products.

Again, because we live in a landscape of decentralized power structures, local, state, and federal agencies all have partial authority. This fragmentation can produce bureaucratic confusion, further hindering swift action. By the time a single body tries to intervene, the damage may be done.

A Tale of Regulatory Gaps

Ultimately, the legal documents’ narrative reveals how Trojan allegedly capitalized on these regulatory gaps—gaps that are arguably baked into the system under neoliberal capitalism. Corporations are granted wide latitude to innovate, outsource, and market consumer goods without close scrutiny of every chemical ingredient, unless and until a significant public health threat is unequivocally proven. The regulatory posture is often reactive rather than proactive. While it is impossible to say precisely why regulators did not catch the alleged PFAS contamination in Trojan condoms sooner, the interplay of incomplete regulations, industry influence, and the challenges of proving harm from trace chemicals offers a plausible explanation.

The system failed because it was never rigorously designed to weed out new or obscure toxins at the product level before they reached consumers. The Trojan scenario underscores that when trust in corporate ethics is assumed, that trust can become a fatal blind spot. This dynamic—one that fosters a pattern of predation rather than an exception—leads us to the argument advanced in the next section: that recurring corporate misconduct is less an anomaly and more an embedded feature of the capitalist system in which we live.

---

6. This Pattern of Predation Is a Feature, Not a Bug

If the allegations in the Goodman lawsuit indeed reflect the reality that Trojan condoms contained PFAS “forever chemicals,” they stand as yet another example of how certain corporations operate under a framework that incentivizes corner-cutting. This repetition of wrongdoing—seen in industries ranging from Big Pharma to Big Ag—leads many analysts to conclude that predatory practices are not a failing of the system but rather an inherent component of it.

The Neoliberal Capitalism Context

Neoliberal capitalism, as an economic and political ideology, emphasizes minimal government intervention, deregulation, privatization, and a robust pursuit of profit. In theory, market competition should push corporations to self-regulate; in reality, profit motives often surpass ethical considerations. Critics note that, under neoliberal regimes, regulatory agencies are systematically defunded or politically pressured to adopt a “light touch,” giving firms wide latitude to experiment or exploit potential revenue streams. PFAS is a perfect case study: introduced widely because it made certain manufacturing tasks easier or cheaper, PFAS was only later flagged for potential health harms—harms that continue to go partially unaddressed.

Historical Parallels

Throughout recent history, large-scale controversies echo the Trojan condom allegations. For example, major tobacco companies long concealed internal research linking smoking to cancer, only admitting wrongdoing after monumental lawsuits forced open their archives. Similarly, certain oil companies suppressed climate change research for decades. And in the food industry, repeated revelations about trans fats, sugar content, or carcinogenic additives point to a systematic pattern: new science emerges about toxicity or environmental damage, corporations downplay the threat, regulators take years to catch up, and in the interim, the public suffers.

Condoms, ironically, might be the last product consumers would expect to come under such fire. They serve a critical public-health function—reducing unwanted pregnancies and preventing the spread of STDs. Yet, even this area of “ethical necessity” is not immune. If a company can cut costs or increase shelf appeal with certain chemicals—PFAS or otherwise—it may do so. And if the negative consequences are easily hidden (perhaps only discovered through specialized lab tests), the incentive to address the problem remains low until lawsuits or public pressure force action.

The Role of Corporate Corruption and Greed

Defenders of late stage capitalism might argue that not all corporations behave in this manner. But the consistent drumbeat of product scandals strongly suggests that a culture of impunity arises when profit is the sole guiding principle. Corporate corruption—whether in the form of suppressed studies, manipulated data, or strategic nondisclosures—becomes a viable strategy for companies that want to maintain market share. The legal system, for all its strengths, can be slow and reactive, allowing damaging products to circulate unimpeded. In this environment, corporate greed is not a deviation but a predictable outcome.

Trojan’s alleged PFAS concealment fits the mold of a so-called “rational” choice: the brand invests in promotions that highlight safety and trust, it quietly relies on a supply chain that includes PFAS-laced materials (intentionally or not), and it benefits from limited testing requirements that keep the matter hidden. This is not to assert that Trojan or its parent company is alone in employing these tactics; indeed, the complaint draws attention to a broader phenomenon whereby countless consumer items—from cosmetics to food packaging—are also found to contain PFAS.

Perpetuating Wealth Disparities and Environmental Racism

Another dimension of predatory capitalism is the wealth disparity it perpetuates. When large corporations sell substandard products to unsuspecting consumers, the financial upside belongs to the company and its executives, who potentially garner higher profits, bonuses, and stock valuations. The costs—whether in long-term health implications, medical bills, or emotional distress—fall on everyday people. Over time, this dynamic exacerbates wealth gaps. The same communities least able to afford medical interventions often bear the brunt of chemical exposure, creating a vicious cycle of disadvantage.

In many historical examples, communities of color or low-income neighborhoods are disproportionately exposed to polluted water, air, or products laden with toxins. PFAS pollution from factories often ends up contaminating local communities with limited resources to demand remediation. While Trojan condoms are not a direct analogue to a chemical plant dumping toxins, the marketing of condoms in certain socio-economic demographics raises questions: who is most likely to rely on widely available prophylactics sold at discount retailers, perhaps with less brand choice? The lawsuit does not delve deeply into these issues, but the pattern is worth noting: systemically, the burdens of chemical exposure frequently fall on those already facing inequality.

“Just the Cost of Doing Business”

A hallmark of this pattern is the idea that legal settlements or public backlash is merely “the cost of doing business.” If Trojan must pay a settlement or retool its products, so be it—this often does not outweigh the years of profit gained from selling the questionable item. Meanwhile, regulators may appear reactive but seldom impose penalties large enough to change the fundamental logic of cost-benefit. Plaintiffs, too, can face an uphill battle proving damages from slow-acting or largely invisible contaminants like PFAS. That dynamic, combined with the ephemeral nature of chemical exposures, means corporate wrongdoing might remain profitable.

Is Reform Possible?

This pattern begs the question: can real reform occur within the bounds of neoliberal capitalism, or does the system inexorably produce these kinds of product scandals? Some propose that if regulators were empowered and better funded, and if “polluter pays” principles were enforced for harmful substances, it might tip the balance. Others argue that structural changes—like dismantling excessive corporate power, limiting corporate lobbying, or instituting more robust consumer protections—are needed to curtail predatory behavior comprehensively. Still others believe that class action suits are a potent tool: if consumer litigation can extract large financial penalties, corporations might eventually see corporate social responsibility as a cost-saving measure rather than a philanthropic nicety.

The Trojan condom case, therefore, is not just about one product. It is a microcosm of how corporations exploit minimal oversight, insufficient consumer knowledge, and a system that places intense emphasis on profit margins. If these allegations are upheld in court, they reinforce a grim truth: these controversies are features of our economic system, not isolated bugs. Condoms laced with PFAS might be a shocking headline, but in the broader corporate marketplace, it is the next logical chapter in a saga of consumer-facing products revealed to harbor surprising chemical threats.

---

7. The PR Playbook of Damage Control

When a well-known brand is accused of distributing a product tainted with harmful chemicals, it often faces two battles: one in court and one in the court of public opinion. If the Goodman lawsuit gains enough traction, Trojan—through its parent company, Church & Dwight—will likely employ a series of time-tested public relations (PR) tactics to contain reputational damage. This section outlines some of those tactics, drawing on parallels in the corporate world:

1. Deny or Minimize

The initial response, if not carefully managed, might be to deny or minimize the allegations. Trojan could claim that the complaint’s total organic fluorine tests are inconclusive, or that the PFAS concentration is so infinitesimally low that it poses “no meaningful risk to consumers.” Such a statement might highlight the alleged safety record of Trojan’s condoms and their long-standing presence in the market. This approach has an immediate effect of sowing doubt in the public’s mind, potentially discouraging serious scrutiny. However, repeated reliance on “denialism” can backfire if contradictory evidence surfaces—such as internal documents or more detailed lab results.

2. Shift the Blame or Cite Complex Supply Chains

Many corporations, when confronted with allegations of chemical contamination, point fingers at their suppliers or raw-material providers. Trojan could argue, for instance, that it had no knowledge of PFAS from latex or lubricants because it trusted third parties to ensure purity. This “supplier blame” approach can reduce immediate brand culpability in the public eye, though the brand is still legally responsible for the final product it sells. The complaint in this matter, however, posits Trojan as the final arbiter of product quality and labeling, so the blame-shifting approach may ring hollow to consumers.

3. Commission New Research or Testing

One standard PR move involves announcing that the company has “voluntarily begun thorough testing” of its product. The brand might hire an external lab to replicate or refute the claims made in the lawsuit. If the results fail to corroborate the initial PFAS allegations, Trojan might highlight them as evidence of product safety. On the other hand, if the results are inconclusive or confirm some PFAS presence, the brand might release carefully phrased statements along the lines of “trace amounts,” “at levels deemed safe by regulatory authorities,” or “under the detection limit for risk.” This can be a double-edged sword: if the data is perceived as manipulated or if conflicting studies arise, the brand risks further credibility erosion.

4. Emphasize Commitment to Consumer Safety

As a prophylactic product integral to sexual health, Trojan’s brand identity is built on notions of protection, trust, and reliability. If the lawsuit’s allegations stir public anxiety, Trojan may intensify its safety-forward messaging: “At Trojan, consumer well-being is our top priority. We remain committed to manufacturing the safest and most reliable condoms on the market.” The brand might also tout ongoing philanthropic endeavors or highlight the benefits of condoms in preventing sexually transmitted infections, thereby refocusing attention on the positives. This often resonates with consumers, who might not want to abandon condoms altogether, especially if Trojan condoms are perceived as functionally dependable.

5. Potential Recalls or Reformulations

If the lawsuit gains enough traction and the evidence is compelling, Trojan might be compelled to recall certain product lines or rework their formulations to remove PFAS. Issuing a recall can be expensive and damaging, but it can also reinforce the message that Trojan is taking “proactive steps” to ensure consumer safety. The brand might then reintroduce a “PFAS-free” line of condoms, turning the crisis into a marketing opportunity. Many corporations pivot from scandal to redemption by launching improved “green” or “safe” products, marketing them as evidence of the brand’s capacity to respond to consumer needs.

6. Settling Lawsuits Quietly

From a PR perspective, a swift out-of-court settlement can minimize negative headlines. If Trojan chooses to settle, the terms might include monetary compensation to class members (often modest for individual claimants, but substantial in the aggregate), plus a pledge to adopt certain manufacturing changes. Such settlements typically come with disclaimers that the company “admits no wrongdoing,” which mitigates the reputational sting. Meanwhile, a class settlement can bring finality to the litigation, though it might not fully satisfy consumer advocates who demand admission of guilt or more systemic reforms.

7. Transparency vs. Obfuscation

Ultimately, Trojan stands at a crossroads between adopting genuine transparency—such as releasing all relevant test data, thoroughly explaining supply-chain improvements, or working with regulators—and continuing with more obfuscatory tactics. In prior controversies, some corporations have realized that partial transparency can win back public trust. Others opt for continuing denial. The strategic choice often depends on the size of the brand’s consumer base, the severity of the alleged harm, and the brand’s overall market position. Because condoms directly impact public health, Trojan may feel extraordinary pressure to demonstrate thorough, honest measures if it hopes to retain consumer loyalty.

The Broader Narrative

This PR playbook is not unique to Trojan. From large automobile manufacturers skirting emissions regulations to food giants dealing with E. coli outbreaks, the standard approach to scandal follows similar patterns. Each step is designed to preserve brand equity and keep negative publicity manageable. For Trojan, though, consumer trust is particularly vital. One of the biggest threats a condom manufacturer faces is a crisis of confidence—if the public fears Trojan condoms are unsafe, the brand’s market share could plummet.

What remains to be seen is how Trojan will address the moral dimension of the allegations: PFAS contamination in a product that people trust intimately for health and safety. Some consumers might perceive any contamination as a betrayal that no “damage control” can fix. Others might continue using Trojan condoms regardless, trusting that the risk is marginal compared to the product’s proven track record of preventing pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases. Time, legal outcomes, and PR strategy will all play roles in how this controversy evolves.

The PR response from Trojan—and more broadly from Church & Dwight—will reveal as much about corporate accountability as the lawsuit itself. Whether the brand chooses open communication, partial truth, or full denial, the result can serve as a bellwether for how the sexual health industry deals with chemical safety controversies going forward. Regardless of Trojan’s immediate approach, the real tension lies in the final section of this article: the question of whether corporate power can ever be reconciled with the genuine public interest under neoliberal capitalism.

---

8. Corporate Power vs. Public Interest

Ultimately, this Trojan condoms scandal is part of a larger story about corporate power and public interest. On one side, we have a brand that dominates the American condom market, claiming to provide a product that is not only “America’s #1 Condom” but also safe, reliable, and “triple tested.” On the other side, we have consumers (now represented by Matthew Goodman and potentially many others) who relied on Trojan’s representations and had no reason to suspect that “forever chemicals” might lurk within their chosen prophylactic.

The Clash of Priorities

At its most basic, this dispute is about conflicting priorities. A large, publicly traded corporation must consistently deliver returns to shareholders. In a neoliberal framework, that often leads to cost-cutting, efficiency drives, and risk assessments that weigh profitability above all else. Meanwhile, consumers expect that the products they use—especially those explicitly tied to health and protection—will meet high safety standards. A dangerous feedback loop emerges when corporations face insufficient external constraints or oversight: as long as the product sells, they continue to profit, and any potential hazard remains buried until it is forcibly unearthed.

Public Health Concerns

The presence of PFAS in a product that contacts skin—especially delicate genital tissues—raises acute public health questions. Even if Trojan claims that the concentration of PFAS is low, these chemicals can bioaccumulate. Over time, repeated exposures might add to the body’s burden of forever chemicals, particularly in communities that may already face PFAS from drinking water, industrial emissions, and other consumer goods. The complaint notes that regulators like the EPA, as well as major health institutions, have sounded alarms about PFAS toxicity at extremely low levels. These concerns cannot be shrugged off, because condoms are used frequently and intimately, impacting not only individuals but also the broader sexual health ecosystem.

Consumer Advocacy and Social Justice

Consumer advocates worry that Trojan’s alleged concealment or negligence reveals deeper injustices. People rely on Trojan condoms to keep them safe from sexually transmitted infections and unintended pregnancies—essentially placing trust in a brand for fundamental aspects of reproductive health. Under corporate accountability principles, any product that violates consumer trust to this extent could be considered a grave breach. Indeed, issues of social justice arise if a brand’s negligence disproportionately impacts marginalized communities, who might not have the resources to afford alternative products or to investigate potential health impacts independently.

Moreover, advocates for social justice question whether class action lawsuits, while helpful, are truly sufficient to hold corporations accountable. If Trojan simply settles and moves on with minimal changes, the broader impetus to reform condom manufacturing remains weak. Class members might receive small payouts, while Trojan’s corporate leadership suffers negligible financial or criminal repercussions, continuing business as usual. This pattern is repeated across industries, be it corporate pollution or pharmaceutical wrongdoing.

The Potential for Reform

In an ideal scenario, the Trojan condoms PFAS allegations could trigger a thorough reevaluation of chemical use in personal products, spurring more stringent industry standards. Regulators could establish mandatory testing protocols for intimate healthcare products, akin to what is done for food safety. In this best-case picture, corporations would become more transparent about their supply chains, proactively removing suspect chemicals—even those not yet definitively proven harmful—simply to preserve consumer trust. If Trojan took such an approach, it might salvage its reputation in the long run, demonstrating that the brand truly prioritizes health over short-term profit margins.

Yet, systemic reform demands more than corporate goodwill; it requires a robust interplay between government regulation, consumer demands, and corporate governance. Such synergy can be difficult to achieve in a neoliberal context, where the impetus is often placed on individual consumers to do their own research or mount legal challenges. Hence, the Trojan case becomes emblematic of the push-and-pull between corporate power and consumer sovereignty. Absent strong oversight, the brand has every incentive to keep marketing its product until forced otherwise.

---

Church & Dwight’s website is https://www.churchdwight.com/ and as of the writing of this article on corporate misconduct, their stock price is hovering just above $100 per share