The Threat of Public Health
Imagine a time when children were kept alive by machines just to breathe. This was America in 1952, suffering under the weight of polio, which infected nearly 60,000 kids in just one year. More than 21,000 were left paralyzed, and over 3,000 lost their lives. Families lived in constant dread, praying their children wouldn’t be among the victims.
Today, that fear seems palpable again, not because science has failed us, but instead, it feels like we’re turning our backs on it. This isn’t some dramatic film or TikTok video that ends once the screen fades. It’s a slow-moving dread that unfolds before us.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has become quite a prominent figure now. As Secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services, he’s dismantling essential public health infrastructure — not necessarily due to expertise, but rather his recognizable last name. He’s made some drastic moves: firing the CDC director, overhauling the Advisory Committee on Vaccination Practices, stopping $500 million in vaccine research, halting clinical trials, and cutting support for the vaccine alliance, Gavi. Many medical workers have lost their jobs, often learning about their fate only when their access badges no longer work. More than a thousand HHS employees have called for his resignation, decrying his leadership as dangerous to public health. A former CDC director has plainly stated that his actions have jeopardized American health by undoing defenses built over decades.
Kennedy’s history sheds light on this worrying trend. He’s made claims linking vaccines to autism, suggested Wi-Fi radiation causes cancer and threatens brain health, and oddly stated that chemicals in water could influence a child’s gender identity during Covid-19. His controversial rhetoric even drew ire from Holocaust memorial organizations. These are not just fringe opinions anymore; they’re woven into U.S. government policy.
The consequences of this shift are not speculative. In the early 1960s, millions of Americans caught measles before the vaccine’s introduction, resulting in hundreds of child deaths and permanent brain damage every year. Before smallpox was eradicated in 1980, it claimed countless lives worldwide. Diseases like tuberculosis and diphtheria were once severe threats but were suppressed through research, vaccines, and public trust. Walking away from that trust now could lead us straight back to these horrors.
The global response has been alarming. The leader of Australia’s Doherty Institute has termed Kennedy’s decision to cut mRNA funding a significant setback for health advancements. Global health experts warn that pulling U.S. support for Gavi — which has vaccinated over 1.1 billion children and halved child mortality rates in various regions — could result in the loss of hundreds of thousands of young lives. It’s worth noting: when America steps away from science, the repercussions ripple out far beyond its borders.
Surprisingly, our leaders remain silent — those who are sworn to protect and serve. This silence doesn’t reflect strength; it feels like a betrayal. In Alabama, the state grapples with high infant mortality rates, ranking third in the country. Maternal mortality rates here are more than double the national average, especially impacting Black mothers. Since 2010, more than a dozen rural hospitals have shuttered, leaving communities without care. In fact, childhood vaccination rates lag behind the national average by nearly ten percentage points. These aren’t just numbers; they represent families mourning lives that never had a chance.
True leadership requires bravery. What’s apparent now is a troubling disease creeping into power.
Looking back in history can inspire us. Nearly 250 years ago, Abigail Adams took a significant risk by inoculating herself and her children. Jonas Salk, who developed the polio vaccine, famously refused to patent it, questioning whether you could even patent the sun. They prioritized the greater good over personal gain, defining a significant part of what makes America great.
Today, we see similar dedication at agencies like UAB, which leads the nation in organ transplants, cancer treatments, and infectious disease research. Institutions in Auburn, Huntsville, and Tuscaloosa are breaking new ground in various medical fields. This work — science for the benefit of people — is precisely what’s under threat as federal leaders replace knowledge with ideology.
History reminds us of plague ships abandoned and left to drift. That’s the vibe we’re picking up today. The government feels like a frail vessel sailing aimlessly, endangering its citizens for no good reason.
American greatness wasn’t established through deceit or superstition. It emerged from people who trusted knowledge over fear. We now find ourselves led by figures who risk tarnishing that legacy. Looking at their actions rather than their words reveals a troubling pattern; they’re undermining the very institutions that once stood as beacons of hope.
This isn’t what true leadership looks like — it’s betrayal. While we can’t undo past losses, taking decisive action before it’s too late could still safeguard our futures.
