How Donald Trump’s War on Expertise Threatens Our Health

Are you ready for another pandemic?

Last week, David Kessler, who headed the Food and Drug Administration during the George H.W. Bush and Clinton administrations and who served as the Biden administration’s chief science officer during Covid-19, issued a stark warning regarding “the possibility that the spreading avian flu might mutate to enable human-to-human transmission.” So far, he noted, there has been no person-to-person spread of H5N1. But he pointed out we may be two or three mutations away from a virus that can cause a pandemic. “The incoming Trump administration needs to be prepared,” he said.

Kessler, perhaps too politely, did not state the obvious: Donald Trump has proposed a public health team that will not be prepared and that may well do more harm than good. As Dr. Jonathan Reiner, a professor of medicine, surgery interventional cardiologist, and CNN medical analyst, put it in a tweet: “If a new pandemic comes to the US next year we’ll have an NIH director [Jay Bhattacharya] who advocated for letting COVID burn through the US, an HHS Sec [Robert F. Kennedy Jr.] who believes in raw milk but not vaccines, an FDA commissioner [Marty Makary] who said COVID would be over by 4/2021, and a CDC director [Dave Weldon] who supported the debunked theory that vaccines cause autism.” (I added the names to Reiner’s post.)

This is not a squad that we can have confidence in. RFK Jr. has said that he doesn’t believe that any vaccines are safe or effective. NBC News recently reported that in 2019 Kennedy compared the vaccine agency of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to “fascism,” and he accused it of deliberately hurting children. He equated this to the cover-up of child sexual abuse within the Catholic Church. He called the Covid vaccine the “deadliest vaccine ever made.” He claimed Dr. Anthony Fauci and billionaire Bill Gates hyped the pandemic to promote vaccines made by Big Pharma. In the event of a new pandemic, would Kennedy lead the way in developing a new vaccine to combat that dire threat? Might he not be eager to work on a vaccine? Might he block its development?

Bhattacharya’s selection as head of the National Institutes of Health is also particularly troubling. A professor of economics and health policy at Stanford, he was a fierce critic of Covid vaccine mandates and other anti-pandemic measures, such as lockdowns and mask mandates. He was one of the three authors of the Great Barrington Declaration, which was developed at an October 2020 meeting of a libertarian think tank. It recommended the United States strive for Covid herd immunity through mass infection and focus on sequestering particularly vulnerable populations, such as older Americans. A large number of public health experts and organizations assailed this approach. A collection of these groups responded:

If followed, the recommendations in the Great Barrington Declaration would haphazardly and unnecessarily sacrifice lives. The declaration is not a strategy, it is a political statement. It ignores sound public health expertise. It preys on a frustrated populace. Instead of selling false hope that will predictably backfire, we must focus on how to manage this pandemic in a safe, responsible, and equitable way.

The suggestions put forth by the Great Barrington Declaration are NOT based in science. There is no evidence that we are even remotely close to herd immunity. To the contrary, experts believe that 85 to 90 percent of the U.S. population is still at risk of contracting SARS-Cov-2. Herd immunity is achieved when the virus stops circulating because a large segment of the population has already been infected. Letting Americans get sick, rather than focusing on proven methods to prevent infections, could lead to hundreds of thousands of preventable illnesses and deaths. It would also add greater risk in communities of color which have already experienced disproportionate impacts of the pandemic.

But Bhattacharya, who advanced the paranoid idea that the pandemic was being used to create a “biosecurity state,” was hailed by libertarians, conservatives, and MAGA-ites for his defiance—even as public health experts noted he had not presented a workable plan to achieve herd immunity while protecting at-risk Americans. He went on to champion himself as a victim of censorship.

Last week—before Trump declared his intention to nominate Bhattacharya—I got in a tussle with him. After hedge fund manager and Trump fanboy Bill Ackman tweeted that Bhattacharya is a “brilliant scientist” who’s “unafraid to stand by his carefully researched opinion,” I responded that Bhattacharya at the start of the pandemic said that only 20,000 to 40,000 people would die from Covid, adding, “That was the basis of his recommendations. He was only off by 1.16 million.” I was referring to a Wall Street Journal article that he co-wrote in mid-March 2020.

Bhattacharya replied, “This is a lie. The article pointed out that, given the evidence available in early 2020, the pandemic could end up killing anywhere between 20k and 4 million. And it called for a study to reduce the uncertainty.” And Elon Musk chimed in to promote a community note attached to my tweet that read, “Bhattacharya never claimed only 20-40K would die from Covid. He wrote, ‘The degree of bias is uncertain because available data are limited. But it could make the difference between an epidemic that kills 20,000 and one that kills two million.’”

These responses to my tweet were misleading. The intent of Bhattacharya’s article was to suggest that those experts who feared a major pandemic and who were proposing severe measures to prevent such a wave of death were likely wrong. “There’s little evidence to confirm that premise,” he and Eran Bendavid, another Stanford professor, wrote. They questioned the prevailing assumptions about the fatality rate of Covid, reporting that the conventional view was that “if 100 million Americans ultimately get the disease, two million to four million could die.” They responded: “We believe that estimate is deeply flawed.” They contended the fatality rate would likely be “much lower,” adding, “That’s not only plausible but likely based on what we know so far.” It was in this context that they referred to “the difference between an epidemic that kills 20,000 and one that kills two million.” They were clearly arguing that the former scenario was more probable, and they wrote, “a 20,000- or 40,000-death epidemic is a far less severe problem than one that kills two million.” And they stated, “If we’re right about the limited scale of the epidemic, then measures focused on older populations and hospitals are sensible.”

Despite his and Musk’s recent protests, Bhattacharya and his colleague had indeed pushed the view that the pandemic would be of a “limited scale”—oops!—and that lockdowns and quarantines would not be needed. (Vaccination was not yet an issue.) Yes, they called for more data to confirm this. But they were promoting the this-won’t-be-so-bad perspective. It turned out they were not right about the “limited scale.” The Covid death count—1.2 million so far in the United States—was far from a “limited scale.” Now Bhattacharya and his supporters, including Musk, cannot acknowledge Bhattacharya’s big error, and they’re trying to erase it. That’s not a good sign for the top appointment at the federal agency in charge of biomedical and public health research.

There’s nothing wrong with skepticism, especially when it comes to government regulators, Big Pharma, and critical scientific questions. But the MAGA right has come to worship contrarianism, especially when it comes wrapped up with conspiracism. (See Kennedy and his craziness.) And this is part of a larger war on expertise. All of Trump’s public health appointees lack the expertise they need for their prospective jobs. Their chief qualification is that they have poked their thumbs in the eyes of the experts. In some instances, that can be useful. But perhaps not when it comes to dealing with a pandemic. In such situations, scientists ought to collaborate and make the best calls possible on the best data available, with an eye toward prudent action. That’s not what we can expect from Trump’s band.

This war on expertise stretches beyond the public health area. Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy’s faux Department of Government Efficiency—it’s not really a department—is preparing to target government experts on climate change and other matters that Musk and Ramaswamy may not give a damn about. Musk, who’s looking to free SpaceX and Tesla from safety, labor, and environmental regulations, has no interest in a robust federal government full of knowledgeable officials who might get in his way as they protect and serve the public interest. And if Trump succeeds with his plan to gain more control of the civil service and impose a Trumpian loyalty oath for executive branch workers, employees with experience and expertise will be kicked out or flee the federal government.

Dr. Scott Gottlieb, who was FDA commissioner during Trump’s first term in office, has sounded a warning about Kennedy, saying, “I think if RFK follows through on his intentions, and I believe he will, and I believe he can, it will cost lives in this country.” He explained, “You’re going to see measles, mumps and rubella vaccination rates go down...And like I said, if we lose another 5 percent, which could happen the next year or two, we will see large measles outbreaks. For every 1,000 cases of measles that occur in children, there will be one death. And we are not good in this country at diagnosing and treating measles.”

More deaths, and that’s without a pandemic. Should the worst happen, we could be screwed, with Trump’s people ignoring the advice of public health experts and perhaps opposing the development of a vaccine. Tens of thousands of Americans perished of avoidable deaths due to Trump’s mismanagement of the Covid crisis. But at least he pushed for a new vaccine and was surrounded by public health officials who were trying their best. Next time, that may not be the case. Trump and his crew are a threat to the well-being of the nation, and this is a matter that warrants serious attention (and shouting) from the media, public influencers, and politicians not in the clutches of the Trump cult.

Got anything to say about this item—or anything else? Email me at ourland.corn@gmail.com.

Our Land is introducing a new feature: Accomplice Watch. It will track public figures who engage in acts of accommodation regarding Donald Trump and his march toward authoritarianism. The fundamental premise is that Trump presents a threat to American democracy. He tried to overturn the 2020 election and incited violence with his Big Lie. Since then, he has repeatedly made statements that show his fondness for autocracy. Consequently, those who normalize or support Trump and his new administration are bolstering a fellow who has demonstrated fascist tendencies—as well as racist and misogynistic impulses. That deserves a callout.

Our first dis-honoree is CNN commentator Fareed Zakaria. He recently opined, “Of Trump’s recent announcements, the one that intrigues and even excites me the most is the establishment of DOGE…Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy, who will be in charge of DOGE, are both brilliant, and the federal government has clearly become too expansive and too cumbersome.”

Calling Musk and Ramaswamy “brilliant” is misguided. During his recent failed and ludicrous presidential campaign, Ramaswamy pushed numerous conspiracy theories. He claimed that January 6 was an “inside job” and that the Democrats are purposefully bringing in migrants to replace white voters. He also has supported the absurd and false notion that the 2020 election was stolen from Trump. Musk, too, is a major purveyor of disinformation and conspiracy theories, and he has amplified racist and antisemitic social media posts. This past election, he spent $200 million or so to elect Trump so he could have influence over the government that regulates his businesses. He has insisted that $2 trillion can be cut from the $7 trillion federal budget. Since about $5 trillion of that is for Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid, his target figure either is impossible or suggests he will push for deep cuts in benefits for the elderly and low-income Americans.

None of this is brilliant. Zakaria ought to take a cold shower.

If you have a nomination for Accomplice Watch, email me at ourland.corn@gmail.com.

Putting Tulsi Gabbard in charge of the entire US intelligence community—which includes 18 agencies—is just one of Trump’s ridiculous ideas. She has been supportive of Russian leader Vladimir Putin and Syrian tyrant Bashar al-Assad and repeatedly echoed Moscow’s talking points, including its arguments and disinformation justifying its brutal invasion of Ukraine. Plus, she has never managed an organization of this size. When I took a close look at her political operation, I discovered that her finances were hard to figure out. She has at least four political action committees that have raised more than $2 million in the past year or so. But often they did not spend the money on what they claimed they would. Plus, I came across one odd $100,000 donation seemingly attributed to a major Republican and Trump donor. But it was listed at an address where this person did not live, and when I contacted him, he said he didn’t know about this contribution. Something seemed fishy. You can read all about this here. By the way, after Trump announced this weekend his intention to make MAGA activist Kash Patel director of the FBI—perhaps a worse appointment than Gabbard—I wrote about Patel’s embrace of the nutty and dangerous QAnon conspiracy theory and movement. Check it out.

Saturday Night. I have two recurring dreams. One is that I must go back to college for one more semester to graduate. (In real life, I left school early but managed to take courses elsewhere, transfer the credits, and obtain a diploma.) The other is that I’m a writer or host for Saturday Night Live. Perhaps because that was once a semi-fantasy, and a piece of me still thinks it’s a possibility. I’m not obsessed with SNL. But the cultural impact it had when it began hit me hard. Back then it was tough to imagine anything much cooler than being part of it. Thus, I eagerly looked forward to Saturday Night, the comedy-drama about the hours before the first episode of SNL premiered in 1975. I’m delighted to report the film is a fantastic exploration of the chaos and craziness that preceded the blast that revolutionized American comedy and television.

At the core of the zany whirlpool is Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle), a Canadian television writer hired by NBC to concoct something new for the late-night slot on Saturday, perhaps to replace reruns of Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show. For this mission, he recruited a bunch of comic misfits, such as the vitriol-wielding writer Michael O’Donoghue and madcap comics Al Franken and Tom Davis—and, of course, the Not Ready for Primetime Players: Chevy Chase, John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Garrett Morris, Gilda Radner, Jane Curtin, and Laraine Newman. Also on hand for the first episode is surrealist stand-up Andy Kaufman and musical guests Billy Preston and Janis Ian. Additionally, there’s comedy legend Milton Berle and a llama. And much more.

Saturday Night is a rollercoaster ride, with the camera following Michaels through the backstage madness, as he and his screwball army prep for the live show. A disaster is underway. The rehearsal revealed there’s twice as much material as can fit into 90 minutes. Belushi hasn’t signed his contract and might skip out, and Radner is enlisted to bring him back on board. Chase is already breeding resentment among the others for being tagged as the Next Big Thing—and Uncle Miltie is hitting on his gal and bragging about the length of his johnson. Morris is having an identity crisis and asking why the hell he’s on this show. Aykroyd is besieged with second thoughts about wearing too-tight shorts for a skit in which Radner, Curtin, and Newman will play construction workers who ogle and harass him. Meanwhile, Dick Ebersol, Michaels’ boss at NBC, is pushing to postpone the launch because…well, because of everything. And present is David Tebet, an NBC exec, who’s threatening to shut it all down and air a Carson repeat.

Michaels is juggling ferociously as he wrangles his actors, cuts segments (sorry, Billy Crystal!), and tries to avoid Tebet and the heads of NBC affiliates from across the land who have been flown in for the event. A call to Michaels from a not-very-supportive Carson doesn’t help. But Michaels has a show-must-go-on feeling and calculates that if it doesn’t happen right now, it may never.

Director Jason Reitman (Thank You for Smoking, Up in the Air, and Juno) masterfully recreates the claustrophobic and wacky world of the eighth floor of Rockefeller Center. As the minutes to showtime tick by, the tension is thick, even though you know that the ending is going to be the beginning of the show: Live from New York, it’s…. The entire cast remarkably depicts the actors who would soon become legends and icons. Of course, not everything is true. Some lore and later anecdotes are cut into the frenzy. (Berle probably did not whip it out in front of Chase’s gal pal; supposedly he did on another occasion.) But Saturday Night captures the wildness and lunacy of a moment that changed American culture. Now it all seems inevitable. But this entertaining romp shows us it almost didn’t happen.

After the movie was done, I watched that first SNL episode. Though it had its brilliant moments—Kaufman’s Mighty Mouse routine and the absurdist opening sequence with Belushi playing a non-English speaker being maliciously taught bizarre English phrases about wolverines by O’Donoghue—it dragged for long stretches and could’ve used another week in the oven. Watching the show’s premiere, it’s easy to now think it was a miracle SNL made it on the air. Reitman’s Saturday Night confirms that it was.

“Much Ado About Nothing,” Waxahatchee. Waxahatchee is the name of an indie music project started by singer-songwriter Katie Crutchfield, who hails from Waxahatchee Creek, Alabama. It had a big breakthrough this year when its Tiger Blood album was nominated for a Grammy in the Americana category. This award has been won in past years by Jason Isbell, Brandi Carlile, Los Lobos, Rosanne Cash, Bonnie Raitt, and Emmylou Harris and Rodney Crowell, and Waxahatchee has stiff competition with T Bone Burnett and Sarah Jarosz (a previous winner) among the current nominees. Recently, the project released a single, “Much Ado About Nothing,” on which Crutchfield blends country and folk (the essence of Americana) and ruminates about what appears to be a love gone wrong: “I leave every light on, hunting bygones / Play it off like I’m cynical, but I sweat and I swear / Say a prayer, stare at your picture, it’s visceral and it’s crushing.” It’s a lovely and haunting tune.