These days, the front pages and cable gabfests are nearly all-Trump: Impeachment hearings, Presidential Twitty-fits, pardon-a-paloozas and more.

American news organizations, particularly TV news, choose to devote little bandwith or interest to Trump's relentless, ongoing assault on environmental protection.

Thus, these actions, which carry impacts that will be felt for decades, are carried out with relative stealth.

Trump's EPA chief Andrew Wheeler, a former coal industry lobbyist, took another step toward unbuilding the regulatory wall in late January by finishing off what was left of the Obama-era Waters of the United States rule.

Wheeler's new rule would remove Clean Water Act protections from thousands of small or seasonal waterways and nearly half of America's wetlands, limiting the landmark 1973 law to "navigable" waterways.

Don't ever accuse Wheeler of being a thoughtless guest who forgets to bring a hospitality gift. In January, he railed against the Obama rule when invited to speak to two trade groups who fought against the old rule – the American Farm Bureau Federation and the National Association of Home Builders. The two powerful groups, who had long regarded the EPA as a regulatory nemesis, greeted its new boss warmly.

This week, the Washington Post reported that the administration plans to roll back limits on mercury emissions from coal burning power plants. Problem is, some utilities say they don't need such government help. Exelon, a utility giant that's made no secret of its desire to move out of the coal business, has said a very public "no thanks."

Similarly, the White House is rolling back Obama's sharp planned increase in vehicle fuel efficiency, despite several automakers' insistence that the higher standards set by Obama were perfectly fine.

Last July, EPA announced that they would take no action to restrict agricultural use of chlorpyrifos, a widely used pesticide for apples, oranges, strawberries, wheat, corn, and other billion dollar crops. Studies linking chlorpyrifos to neurological damage in children have led to bans in multiple states.

One might think that the largest maker of the substance would be grateful for the EPA having its back, but in early February, Corteva announced it will stop making chlorpyrifos. You may not be familiar with Corteva. It's the offspring of the Dow-DuPont merger. The young spinoff is spooked not only by the state bans in Hawaii, California and others, but also by potentially crippling litigation from farm-field neighbors who claim they're harmed by spraying on nearby farms.