On December 12, 2025, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., the current U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services, found himself at the center of yet another viral moment—this time, not for a policy decision, but for an awkward public display at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. According to reports from Complex, a pop culture media outlet, Kennedy attempted to perform a series of pull-ups in front of cameras, with the outlet boasting that he managed twenty. However, a closer look at the footage, and a thorough review by those familiar with military fitness standards, revealed a different story: not a single proper pull-up was completed. As one commentator put it, “Those are not pull-ups. I don’t know what the hell those are, but they aren’t pull-ups.”
This incident, while seemingly trivial, has become a symbol for Kennedy’s broader tenure as health secretary—a tenure marked by controversy, public skepticism, and a series of decisions that critics argue have undermined the nation’s public health infrastructure. As reported by multiple sources, Kennedy’s leadership has been anything but conventional, often dominating headlines with what some describe as a “carnivalesque spectacle.”
In recent months, Kennedy has amplified misinformation linking Tylenol to autism, a claim widely debunked by the scientific community. He also dismissed the entire Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) vaccine advisory committee, replacing its members with individuals who are, at best, skeptics and, at worst, conspiracy theorists. According to The Nation, Kennedy’s actions have not only fueled public confusion but also contributed to a broader movement—dubbed “Make America Healthy Again” (MAHA)—that seeks to roll back decades of public health progress.
While Kennedy’s personal controversies and professional missteps have drawn national attention, a more insidious trend has been quietly unfolding across the states. As highlighted by the Associated Press, more than 420 bills targeting what the MAHA movement calls “anti-science” policies have been introduced in state legislatures in 2025 alone. These bills primarily target immunization mandates, water fluoridation, and regulations on raw milk sales. Dozens have already become law.
In October, Idaho passed its Medical Freedom Act, making vaccine requirements illegal within the state. Arkansas expanded raw milk sales earlier in the year, and both Utah and Florida enacted bans on water fluoridation. Some legislative proposals have bordered on the bizarre: Minnesota Republicans introduced a bill to classify mRNA treatments—such as the Moderna and Pfizer COVID-19 vaccines—as “weapons of mass destruction.” According to The Nation, this proposal was drafted not by a medical professional, but by a Florida-based hypnotist, and would criminalize the distribution of these vaccines in the state.
These state-level initiatives stand in stark contrast to decades of established science. As the CDC has reported, U.S. childhood vaccines have prevented more than a million deaths since 1994. Yet, the push for “medical freedom” continues to gain ground. Raw milk, for instance, is 840 times more likely to cause illness than its pasteurized counterpart, according to 2017 CDC research. Just last month, Illinois experienced 11 cases of food poisoning linked to raw milk consumption. Despite these risks, figures like California farmer Mark McAfee—who claims to operate the world’s largest raw milk business—have lobbied for broader legalization. McAfee’s milk has been recalled eight times and linked to a salmonella outbreak that sickened 165 people, yet he projects $32 million in sales for 2025. McAfee disputes the number of people affected and notes that four recalls were unrelated to illness, but the numbers remain staggering.
While the public often focuses on Kennedy’s high-profile gaffes and policy reversals at the federal level, experts warn that the real, long-term damage may be happening at the state level. State laws, especially in places with one-party rule, can be far more difficult to reverse than federal guidance. As The Nation notes, “regional public health regulations can have irreversible national effects.” During the COVID-19 pandemic, lax restrictions in some states led to spillover infections across state lines. This year, a measles outbreak that began in Texas has spread to Oklahoma, New Mexico, and Utah—primarily through unvaccinated individuals. “A virus knows no political boundaries,” warns the report, emphasizing the need for coordinated, science-based public health measures.
In response to these challenges, some state and national organizations are fighting back. In October 2025, fifteen Democratic state executives formed the Governors Public Health Alliance to share data and coordinate preparedness efforts. Earlier in the year, the progressive PAC 314 Action launched a $25 million campaign to elect more science-supporting physicians, nurses, and healthcare workers to public office—not just in Congress, but in state legislatures and governors’ mansions as well.
Health experts are also working to rebuild public trust in medical advice, recognizing that traditional messaging is no longer sufficient. In Boston, researchers have partnered with TikTok influencers in a pilot program to spread fact-based guidance on weight supplements. While viral videos alone won’t restore the nation’s endangered measles elimination status, advocates hope that relatable, science-backed content can help counter the spread of misinformation without appearing condescending or arrogant.
For many critics, Kennedy’s tenure as health secretary is emblematic of a larger crisis. As one commentator observed, “RFK Jr. is not only deeply unqualified for the position he holds—but objectively terrible at his job. Not subjectively terrible. Objectively.” The sentiment is echoed by those who see his public stunts—like the failed pull-up attempt—as distractions from the urgent need for competent, science-driven leadership at a time when public health is “broadly acknowledged to be in free-fall.”
Yet, Kennedy’s supporters and the broader MAHA movement argue that they are challenging entrenched interests in the medical and pharmaceutical industries, promoting individual freedom and questioning policies that they believe have gone unexamined for too long. They point to financial incentives for major food and drug companies, while critics counter that the movement itself is rife with moneyed interests—including lobbying groups connected to Kennedy and business leaders like McAfee.
As the nation grapples with the twin threats of rising misinformation and declining public health, the stakes could hardly be higher. The current landscape is marked by a dizzying array of legislative battles, viral media moments, and a deepening divide over the role of science in policy. Whether the country can reverse these trends—or if the damage will persist for years to come—remains to be seen. For now, Americans are left to watch, sometimes in disbelief, as the nation’s top health official struggles not just with pull-ups, but with the weight of his own office.
