Alexander Sundermann is an assistant professor of epidemiology at the University of Pittsburgh School of Public Health.
Food recalls are familiar: an outbreak of E. coli or salmonella tied to a contaminated product, a handful of people sickened, a voluntary recall initiated and a public health system that quietly does its job. That system has worked remarkably well for decades. But the current raw cheese E. coli outbreak is exposing something new and more troubling: A company, emboldened perhaps by a political moment, called the Food and Drug Administration’s scientific findings “allegations” and refused to act. And people are listening.
As an epidemiologist who studies how infectious-disease outbreaks are detected and stopped, I have watched the same process work reliably in the background. It centers on a program from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention called PulseNet, which recently celebrated its 30th anniversary. According to estimates, PulseNet prevents over 270,000 illnesses and $500 million in costs annually. It works like this: A cluster of genetically identical infections appears, then investigators interview patients about food exposures, connect the common thread and work with the FDA to trace contamination. A voluntary recall typically follows. PulseNet is food-agnostic, science-driven and has no political agenda. But watching the E. coli outbreak unfold, I am seeing something that the system was not built to handle.
Here is a tale of two outbreaks from the same company. In late 2023, eight infections of salmonella appeared in California — all linked to raw milk from the company Raw Farm. After investigators connected the dots, the company recalled its milk. The outbreak grew to 171 cases, 70 percent of them children and adolescents, making it one of the largest outbreaks associated with raw milk in recent U.S. history. The company complied, the outbreak ended, and the system worked. Another win for PulseNet.
Now, there is a new outbreak: Nine E. coli infections, mostly in young children, three hospitalized, and epidemiological evidence points to Raw Farm’s raw cheddar cheese and raw milk as the likely sources. Genome sequencing shows the bacterial infections are genetically identical, meaning these children almost certainly got sick from the same source. The FDA, which is investigating, asked the company on March 15 and March 30 to voluntarily recall its product. Raw Farm said no. Twice. On March 17, it posted across social media that the company is being targeted, claiming that the outbreak is not connected to its products, and reshared posts from customers who continue to buy and feed Raw Farm milk and cheese to children. Finally, on April 2, the company issued a voluntary recall, initially “under protest.” It later rescinded that protest statement while still denying the investigation findings.
The science has not changed between these two outbreaks. The regulatory process has not changed. What has changed is the political environment in which a company chooses to comply.
Raw milk has been a cause within wellness circles for years, but it found a new platform during the 2024 election cycle. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. campaigned for president in part on the idea that Americans should have the freedom to choose unprocessed foods, including raw dairy, framing FDA regulations on raw milk as a “war on public health.” When the head of the Department of Health and Human Services has celebrated the same product class currently under investigation, the implicit message to producers and consumers is that the old rules of deference to federal food safety agencies might no longer apply.
This is not happening in isolation. The same communities that are pushing back against childhood vaccines, against vitamin K shots for newborns, against fluoride in drinking water, are now the core audience for raw dairy advocacy.
What makes this moment more dangerous than previous cycles of health misinformation is the feedback loop in the comments of Raw Farm’s social media posts. Die-hard customers are not just maintaining their purchasing habits during an outbreak — they are recruiting. The raw-milk-curious reader or parent, already primed by years of wellness culture skepticism toward processed food, reads those comments and finds community, not caution like that from the FDA’s webpage on raw milk myths.
Epidemiologists and science communicators have spent years developing frameworks for addressing vaccine hesitancy. Those frameworks, imperfect as they are, exist. The emerging resistance to basic food safety — the idea that an outbreak is an opinion, that a pathogen is a political claim — is newer terrain, and the public health community is not yet equipped to meet it at the speed and scale of social media.
So what now? In a world where over half of American adults use social media as a health information source, scientists and public health officials should meet people where they are: online. If you are not reading people’s comments on raw milk advocacy posts during an outbreak, you may not appreciate how far ahead they already are. The people promoting raw milk have been sounding the alarm on social media for years. It is past time we showed up.
The post This is a tale of two outbreaks. The difference is RFK Jr. appeared first on Washington Post.
