Many medical experts are rightly alarmed by Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.’s unscientific claims — from debunked vaccine-autism links to exaggerated warnings about food dyes and ADHD.
Their outrage grew when he cut the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices from 17 members to seven, some sharing his views, and fired Centers for Disease Control Director Susan Monarez, prompting three top CDC officials to resign.
Yet these same experts mostly stayed silent when the CDC, under pressure from teachers’ unions, kept children out of school for nearly two years — while Europe largely stayed open — or when public health authorities leaned on social-media platforms to censor medical voices that disagreed with them.
Only now, with power shifted, do they sound the alarm about CDC politicization.
The contrast is striking: Outrage seems to follow the politics of power rather than the principles of public health.
Supporters of government involvement in public health never expected a figure like Kennedy to run the nation’s public-health system.
But here’s the reality: No federal agency, even the CDC, is immune to political, ideological or special-interest pressures.
History shows that public-health agencies can be swayed by powerful unions, activist groups or lobbying organizations.
The challenge is not the occasional controversial leader — it’s the system itself.
Science moves forward through debate in professional societies, not government diktats.
Yet once officials issue “guidelines,” they often become de facto mandates, crowding out competing views and presenting themselves as the public’s “official truth.”
During COVID, the public watched as guidelines on masks, school closures and vaccines shifted with political winds — sometimes disregarding emerging data or alternative interpretations.
Citizens and doctors alike struggled to know which recommendations reflected science and which reflected politics.
Founded in 1946 as the Communicable Disease Center to fight malaria, smallpox and tuberculosis, the CDC initially focused on research and support for state and local health agencies.
Its primary role was logistical coordination and helping local health authorities implement effective disease control measures.
Over time, it expanded into personal health matters and areas only tangentially related to public health, like firearm violence — classic mission creep that attracts lobbyists like moths to a flame.
Public health works best locally. Communities differ in demographics, population density and risk.
Ideally, the CDC should return to supporting and coordinating with local agencies, leaving personal health decisions to patients and their doctors.
This approach also encourages innovation, allows for tailored responses, and keeps public health grounded in evidence rather than ideology.
Recent developments are encouraging. Several professional medical organizations publicly disagreed with the CDC’s COVID booster recommendations and offered alternatives.
New Mexico’s health department will work with its pharmacy board to include guidance from other reputable organizations, and California, Oregon and Washington are forming a “health alliance” to develop independent vaccine recommendations.
This pushback demonstrates that even in a highly centralized system, states and professional groups can reclaim influence over public-health decisions.
As a physician, I generally support the new CDC and Food and Drug Administration COVID booster guidance, which aligns US policy more closely with other countries.
But I oppose forcing barriers on people who want a vaccine that officials say they don’t need.
Nevertheless, the rebellion by some states and several professional and scientific societies is positive — even if, deep down, their motivation could be partisan politics.
It might be that both sides in this battle are coming to realize that CDC mission creep is harmful to our public and personal health.
Congress should restore the CDC to its original role as the Communicable Disease Center, focusing on support and coordination, rather than bureaucratic overreach and political signaling.
If that occurs, Americans — and their children — will be better protected by a public-health system that genuinely safeguards public health, instead of one that intrudes into every personal choice and political debate.
Jeffrey A. Singer, MD, practices general surgery in Phoenix, and is a senior fellow at the Cato Institute. His latest book is Your Body, Your Health Care (Cato Institute).