By Nick Catoggio
Tuesday, September 23, 2025
Most editions of this newsletter are long-winded variations
of “I told you so,” but sometimes the president’s second administration
resembles his first so closely that it would feel silly to say it.
If I had predicted that in 2025 he would hijack a press
conference about scientific guidance to riff on his own dim hunches about
medicine, as he did at yesterday’s White
House event, I’d sound ridiculous boasting about my foresight. We’ve all seen
that movie before! No one deserves credit for expecting a sequel to recycle
certain elements from the original.
The point of Monday’s presser was to allege that women
who take Tylenol during pregnancy might be increasing their child’s chances of
developing autism. Emphasis on “might”: Donald Trump’s own Food and Drug
Administration is unwilling
to assert a causal connection, limiting itself to noting a possible
“association” based on some studies.
But a cautious advisory doesn’t make for good television,
so the president was more forceful when he came to the mic. “With Tylenol,
don't take it. Don’t take it,” he said, repeating
himself for emphasis. He recommended that pregnant women running a fever try to
“tough
it out” if they can.
The first thing to say about this momentous press
appearance, which could potentially influence millions of people’s medical
decisions, is that he obviously didn’t prepare for it. He didn’t even practice how to
pronounce “acetaminophen.”
He prides himself on speaking extemporaneously in public,
enough so that he’s coined
a term for his technique, but White House announcements about public health
are up there with nuclear saber-rattling as moments when the president absolutely
should stick to a script. Instead, Trump rambled about how avoiding Tylenol has
supposedly spared Cuba and the Amish from
autism (wrong
on both counts)
and tossed in a little free association about how there’s “too much liquid” in
the child vaccine schedule for tiny bodies. The measles/mumps/rubella shot
should be broken up into separate shots, he advised, adding that his advice was
based on “what I
feel.”
The risk that he has now ignited a global panic over
Tylenol and/or the MMR shot is sufficiently great that the UK’s health
secretary felt obliged to warn
Britons on Monday, “Don’t pay any attention whatsoever to what Donald Trump
says about medicine.”
Another thing to say about the event is that the new
policy was seemingly made without regard to whether it advances or hinders the
White House’s long-term goals.
That’s a recurring theme in Trump 2.0. Tariffs, for
instance, were supposed to reduce China’s economic power and restore American
manufacturing. Instead, Trump turned around and tariffed the world, driving global
opinion toward the Chinese and thrusting the U.S. manufacturing sector into
a contraction. He courted India’s leader in his first term, eyeing him as a
potential counterweight to Beijing, then blew
up the relationship in a matter of weeks this summer for reasons of pride
and short-sighted trade protectionism. He got a splashy photo op out of his
summit with Vladimir Putin that achieved nothing of consequence except
convincing some European allies that they should spend
their defense budgets at home rather than in a newly undependable America.
The Tylenol panic is another example. Like practically
every government on earth, the Trump administration is alarmed by declining
birth rates and looking
for ways to encourage Americans to have more children. What better strategy
than by … warning women that they should “tough it out” if they have a fever
during pregnancy, and implying that if they don’t it’ll be their fault if their
child emerges with something amiss neurologically?
A third thing to say here is that the advice he gave
wasn’t bad in the sense of merely being wrong. True to form, it was bad in the
sense that it’ll almost certainly do more harm than good.
Causation and correlation.
A pregnant woman who heard about Monday’s press
conference now has three options if she has a fever. She can take Tylenol,
notwithstanding the best practices of the federal government, and suffer
through a bout of terror that she’s harming her baby by doing so.
A second thing she can do is switch to a different
medication like Advil on the assumption that, because there’s been no
presidential warning about it, it must be safer than Tylenol. But she’d be
wrong: Ibuprofen is much more likely to
cause miscarriage than acetaminophen is. That’s why Trump urged women to
“tough it out” rather than take an alternative fever-reducer, but it’s anyone’s
guess how many made it past the “don’t take Tylenol” headline to hear that part
of his remarks.
The third thing women can do is, well, tough it out and
fight off the fever without help. But that’s a terrible idea. “The Society for
Maternal-Fetal Medicine, which recommends using acetaminophen to treat fever
and pain in pregnant women, says that untreated fever can cause grave harms
such as miscarriage, birth defects or premature birth, especially early in a
pregnancy,” NPR
reported.
In fact, prolonged fever during pregnancy might itself be
a cause of autism. One scientist told Bloomberg
that, according to her research, the risk of the diagnosis was 40 percent
higher in kids whose mothers didn’t use acetaminophen while feverish.
That may explain the correlation in some (but not all)
studies between Tylenol use and autistic offspring: It’s not the drug itself
that’s affecting fetal development, perhaps, but the illness that the drug was
used to treat.
If so, “toughing it out” may lead to more children
developing autism, not fewer.
The idea that there’s any one cause for autism is frankly
silly, though. “Scientists have identified hundreds of genes that are
associated with the development of autism-like symptoms,” Dylan Scott noted at Vox.
Studies show that twins have a vastly greater chance of both children being
diagnosed as autistic if
they’re identical—that is, if they have the exact same genes—than if
they’re fraternal. The sheer diversity in how autism presents behaviorally
suggests that the condition is influenced by multiple factors.
The fact that Tylenol has been around for 70 years also
makes it unlikely that it’s a prime cause of an autism “epidemic” that’s been raging for 20 or so.
“Diagnoses of autism have risen over the past two decades, though use of
acetaminophen has not—remaining largely steady over that time,” NPR
notes. A better explanation for why cases have risen is that the definition of
autism in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders was
expanded in 1994 to cover a
wider array of symptoms, producing many more diagnoses (and more resources
for patients) as well as higher public awareness of the condition.
Toss in the fact that adults today are having children at
older ages, another known
risk factor for Autism Spectrum Disorder, and much of “the epidemic” can be
explained without resorting to dubious pharmaceutical or environmental
villains. No wonder one bioethicist told the Associated
Press that Monday’s press conference was “the saddest display of a lack of
evidence, rumors, recycling old myths, lousy advice, outright lies, and
dangerous advice I have ever witnessed by anyone in authority.”
The icing on the cake was the president’s gratuitous plea
to break up the MMR vaccine, which had nothing to do with the subject at hand
but also stands a high chance of needlessly harming American kids. The reason
infants are vaccinated for measles, mumps, and rubella all at once is because
each of those viruses is dangerous to their fledgling immune systems; the
longer you wait to immunize them for each—which is what
spacing out the shots would require—the greater the risk they’ll be
infected before they’re protected.
Trump didn’t need to mention the vaccine, but he did
because that’s what being president means to him. He gets to go on TV, blather
about whatever’s on his mind without preparing, and trust that no one who
supports him will hold him the least bit accountable for the damage he does.
Sweet gig if you can get it.
Here’s my question, though: Why are he, Robert F. Kennedy
Jr., and so many other “Make America Healthy Again” apparatchiks so obsessed
with autism? This administration has no qualms about slashing funding for
research into life-and-death health problems like
cancer. How does cancer get shrugged off while a correlation-not-causation
determination about autism receives a presidential press conference?
Strength and weakness.
“It’s because they care deeply about children,” you might
say. I
don’t think so.
More likely is that autism is a mystery, and populists
can’t resist a good mystery.
America has endured many epidemics over the last 25
years—obesity, opioids, COVID—but there’s nothing suspicious about any of them.
The causes are clear. Autism is unique in that diagnoses have risen to the
point where “on the spectrum” has entered the vernacular, yet no one knows
precisely why. The condition is now reasonably common, it produces observable
symptoms in many cases, and it disrupts children’s social development in a way
that risks setting them back permanently. But not only is there no known cure,
there’s no known cause.
It’s suspicious. And so if your understanding of politics
and/or medicine reliably runs toward suspicions of secret malfeasance, you’re
destined to zero in on autism.
It’s not a coincidence that the condition has been a
hobby horse of anti-vaxxers for years, most notably the guy who stood a few
feet behind the president at yesterday’s announcement. Watching Bobby Kennedy
Jr.’s health bureaucracy pull a surprise switcheroo by suggesting that Tylenol,
not vaccines, is the true culprit in the autism “epidemic” seemed to confirm
that this has never been about earnestly deducing cause and effect. It’s always
been about blaming the autism mystery on some “unnatural” intervention by the
medical establishment. Acetaminophen, vaccination—it doesn’t much matter as
long as there’s a simple explanation that validates one’s suspicions that the
elites have once again harmed the average joe.
I wonder too if there’s a class component to Trump’s and
Kennedy’s preoccupation with the condition. They’re funny populists insofar as
each belongs to a family famously associated with wealth and lofty social
status, and families like that tend to care about keeping up appearances. (The
Kennedys care a
lot.) For all of his populist pretensions, for instance, the president
isn’t above bragging
about his Ivy League pedigree. Autism is the sort of condition that I’d
expect to hit harder in higher-income social circles like theirs because a
child’s diagnosis means the next generation of the family might not maintain
its social position.
That’s not to say that lower-class parents are
indifferent to autism, of course, but they may have more urgent priorities—like
food and basic medical care—for a young child than worrying about whether he or
she ends up on the spectrum. The Trumps and Kennedys don’t need to think about
that. It stands to reason that an administration that’s willing
to slash Medicaid would also share the medical priorities of a more
professional cohort by spending its time fixated on whether the heir apparent
to the family legacy isn’t “odd.”
Beyond all that, I think the Trump White House’s nostalgic
vision of national greatness informs its anxiety about autism.
All of us should worry that cases of a developmental
disorder have seemingly been rising for years, but nationalists with a
fetish for dominance and strength should really worry, arguably to
the point of obsession. You can’t make America great again by making it more
like it used to be if the population is literally unable to be more like it
used to be. Anything that smacks of inherent disability to them will be seen as
proof of “weakness” in a way that cancer, say, will not.
I thought of his comment about immigrants “poisoning
the blood of our country” even before I saw that Jonathan
Last flagged it in his piece today. That wasn’t the only time Trump has
lapsed into
biological rhetoric when diagnosing threats to America either. Like many
nationalists, his tribalism doesn’t end at his nation’s borders: Biological
forms of kinship, at least as perceived by Trump, also forge certain tribal
bonds.
So, yeah, a biological phenomenon in which more members
of his tribe than ever before are becoming “neuro-atypical” is bound to occupy
outsized space in his political agenda.
Which would be fine if he had staffed up with
serious scientists armed with the funding needed to tackle the challenge of
autism seriously. It’s a legitimate problem. By staffing up instead with the
dumbest Kennedy and accepting “uh, it’s Tylenol, boss” as the unlikely silver-bullet
explanation, he ended up with the worst of all worlds—bad public-health
priorities and a would-be solution that not only won’t solve the problem
but might
plausibly make it worse.
America’s imbeciles
have much to answer for.
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