
Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a figure long associated with anti-vaccine rhetoric, has found himself under the congressional spotlight once again—this time not just as a political activist, but as a candidate who increasingly influences public discourse around health policy. His recent appearance at a congressional hearing on vaccine policy raised eyebrows and prompted a wave of bipartisan concern, especially as measles outbreaks begin to surge across the United States.
Kennedy, known for his environmental work and outspoken skepticism regarding certain public health mandates, faced direct and urgent questioning from lawmakers. At the center of the discussion was his long-held position that vaccines may not be as safe as federal agencies and medical experts assert. That position, once held at the fringe, now has alarming implications as misinformation proliferates across social media, eroding public trust in science during a crucial time.
His response to one pointed question—“I don’t think people should be taking medical advice from me”—left many on the committee stunned. Though seemingly modest, the remark raised deep questions about responsibility and accountability. Kennedy’s critics argue that downplaying his influence while simultaneously continuing to cast doubt on vaccines sends mixed and dangerous signals to the public.
The stakes are high. In 2025, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reported that more than 1,200 measles cases had already been identified across 33 states—a troubling rise compared to previous years. Public health officials link the outbreaks to falling vaccination rates, which they attribute in part to misinformation spread online and by public figures. Measles, once declared eliminated in the U.S. in 2000, has made a worrisome comeback, particularly in communities with low immunization coverage.
Kennedy’s role in shaping vaccine discourse is not new. For years, he has led organizations and spoken at events that question the safety of vaccines, citing unverified studies or anecdotal claims. His skepticism first gained major public attention in the early 2000s, when he linked childhood vaccines to autism—an assertion that has since been thoroughly debunked by over a dozen large-scale studies and dismissed by institutions such as the World Health Organization and the CDC.
Despite the overwhelming scientific consensus that vaccines are safe, effective, and necessary, Kennedy has persisted. And while he has often couched his views in terms of “medical freedom” and parental choice, public health experts say that language masks the real damage such messaging can do.
Dr. Leana Wen, a former Baltimore health commissioner and prominent medical commentator, remarked in a recent op-ed, “There is a difference between asking hard questions and sowing doubt in the face of overwhelming evidence. When a public figure like RFK Jr. equivocates on vaccine science, the consequences are not just theoretical—they’re measured in lives.”
Congressional leaders across the aisle voiced concern during the hearing. Representative Rosa DeLauro (D-CT) questioned the implications of Kennedy’s views for national health policy. “This is not a matter of opinion—it’s a matter of science,” she said, pointing to statistics showing that unvaccinated children are far more likely to contract measles, mumps, and rubella, potentially leading to hospitalization or even death.
Republican lawmakers also expressed skepticism, albeit framed more around Kennedy’s suitability to shape future health policy. “Whatever your views on mandates or government overreach, we have to agree that science matters,” said Rep. Brian Fitzpatrick (R-PA), adding that public health cannot be guided by politics or personal belief systems alone.
The hearing also touched on Kennedy’s broader health policy proposals, including calls to dramatically reduce the size and budget of the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), a move he frames as a way to “cut bureaucratic waste.” However, critics argue that these cuts would severely limit the country’s ability to respond to outbreaks, conduct essential medical research, and ensure vaccine availability to underserved populations.
Some of Kennedy’s supporters point to a need for more transparency from pharmaceutical companies and public institutions—a fair concern, according to many policy experts. “It’s healthy to question, to demand more transparency in how decisions are made,” says Dr. Monica Gandhi, an infectious disease specialist at UCSF. “But that questioning must be rooted in scientific literacy and respect for peer-reviewed data, not social media headlines or fringe theories.”
Adding to the controversy, Kennedy’s previous involvement in a 2019 measles outbreak in Samoa resurfaced in the hearings. At the time, Kennedy had visited the island nation during a deadly outbreak and was accused of promoting misinformation that discouraged vaccinations. Over 80 people died in the outbreak, the majority of them children under five. The Samoan Ministry of Health has since implemented mandatory vaccinations to prevent future outbreaks.
The congressional hearings also delved into how vaccine misinformation spreads, often with the help of algorithm-driven platforms like YouTube, Facebook, and Twitter. Kennedy has been a central figure in that ecosystem. A 2021 report by the Center for Countering Digital Hate labeled him as one of the “Disinformation Dozen”—a small group of individuals responsible for a large share of COVID-19 vaccine misinformation online.
Despite all the criticism, Kennedy’s popularity among a segment of voters continues to rise. Many see him as a truth-teller in a sea of political noise. To them, his distrust of government agencies is refreshing rather than reckless. This duality—being viewed as both a threat and a hero—makes his influence particularly potent, and particularly dangerous, say experts.
The larger question remains: how should a democracy respond when influential figures with large platforms promote views that directly undermine public health? For now, congressional hearings and media scrutiny are a start, but the public will ultimately play a decisive role. As election season ramps up, Kennedy’s positions—on vaccines, on health freedom, on science itself—will be scrutinized not just in committee rooms, but at the ballot box.
In the end, public health is built on trust—trust in science, trust in data, and trust in leaders to put truth above political expedience. Whether Kennedy can fulfill that standard, or continues to challenge it, remains to be seen. But as measles spreads and vaccination rates drop, the consequences of his words have never been more real.