RKF Jr.’s Plot to Kill America

During a morning in late August, Jilian Melamed, a research assistant professor, was discussing exciting new data with her team. They’re working on mRNA-based therapies for autoimmune diseases. So far, the results for application in multiple sclerosis and type 1 diabetes look good. But the mood in the lab wasn’t congratulatory. Lingering unease was in the room. 

“Right now, we should be celebrating,” says Melamed. “But in the back of our minds, we’re wondering what happens if the rug gets pulled out from under us? Then all of this goes nowhere.”

At this point, most Americans are familiar with mRNA-based vaccines, namely the Pfizer-BioNTech and Moderna Covid vaccines. They prevent serious illness and death; in countries that had access to mRNA shots during the first year of vaccinations, fewer people died. However, it’s now increasingly evident that scientists could similarly use mRNA to treat and prevent a sweeping list of illnesses, including cancer, HIV, and sickle cell anemia. 

But while this broader scope is promising, recent actions from the Trump administration have cast a shadow. The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) recently announced a “coordinated wind-down” of its mRNA vaccine development activities, an overhaul that includes withdrawing millions of dollars in funding for mRNA vaccine development. The FDA has also limited who will have access to the updated Covid shots. 

Melamed, a member of the Weissman Lab at the University of Pennsylvania Perelman School of Medicine, is working on what, in some circles, she’s comfortable calling a vaccine. The line between what is called an mRNA vaccine and a therapy, she explains, can be hazy. Her vaccine, or therapy, is for autoimmune disorders: The aim is to train the immune system to leave healthy cells alone. Nearly 5 percent of the U.S. population has been diagnosed with at least one autoimmune disease, with females twice as likely to be diagnosed. 

The HHS mRNA announcement follows an earlier decision to cancel contracts for developing an mRNA vaccine for H5N1 bird flu. The wind-down overall is part of a streak of similar decisions, including ones made by the National Institutes of Health (NIH) to cut funding for research on vaccine hesitancy and to encourage scientists to remove references to mRNA vaccine technology from their grant applications. Meanwhile, the June restructuring of the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices included the appointment of members who are skeptical of mRNA. In at least seven states, lawmakers have introduced legislation that would ban or limit mRNA therapies. 

So, while the August HHS cuts pertain to vaccines for respiratory infections, and a HHS spokesperson told DAME that the department is “continuing to invest in ongoing research on applications in cancer and other complex diseases,” scientists in the mRNA space at large aren’t quite convinced that their research is safe. This is research that could help us survive the next pandemic. It’s also research that may help us survive the common, painful, scary, uncomfortable, and limiting health problems that affect most people eventually. 

“These threats to defund mRNA research are putting a substantial portion of the U.S. population at risk,” says Melamed. “It’s derailing research that is trying to provide cures for what are currently incurable diseases.” 

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The latest (at the time of writing) HHS decision cancels 22 projects worth nearly $500 million, awarded by the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, which supports the development of tools for infectious diseases and pandemics. When giving cause for the termination, Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. cited false claims about safety and efficacy. 

“Those statements are not based on scientific fact,” says Jeff Coller, a professor of RNA biology and therapeutics at Johns Hopkins University. “I’m not sure what they are looking for in terms of safety and efficacy, because it’s all there. It’s why people are so excited about the technology.” 

Even if the HHS states it will support mRNA research for complex diseases for now, Coller says the funding cuts signal to those scientists that the administration may not support their work later. The choice to cancel these grants “has sent an incredible chill through the entire sector,” he says. Research and development are costly, and there is a fear that further money will be revoked. He knows cancer researchers who are “terrified that their funding will be withdrawn because their patients are responding to these medications.”

“For a while, I felt like I was in a sort of protected bubble with my focus on autoimmune diseases,” says Melamed. “But certainly my research feels threatened as well. We’ve seen how quickly this administration will say ‘this is our focus,’ then expand to other things.” 

Public opinion was also cited as a reason to reconsider the use of mRNA vaccines. Following the announcement, Jay Bhattacharya, director of the NIH, wrote in The Washington Post that “public attitudes” were considered when choosing to pivot from mRNA vaccines, and that “no matter how elegant the science, a platform that lacks credibility among the people it seeks to protect cannot fulfill its public health mission.”

 

However, polling conducted by KFF, a policy and journalism nonprofit, indicates that while public confidence in mRNA Covid vaccines is low, just 16 percent list safety as the reason for their doubt. Instead, 52 percent of people “don’t know enough to say.” Confusion seemingly led to hesitation. What’s more, in March, Bhattacharya’s agency cut funding for vaccine hesitancy research. In an email circulated among NIH leadership and reviewed by NPR, it states the NIH will not prioritize research aimed at understanding “why individuals are hesitant to be vaccinated and/or explore ways to improve vaccine interest and commitment.” 

There’s an inconsistency in the claim that mRNA vaccines lack credibility, and the decision to limit funding that would potentially improve that credibility. But it’s a pattern that’s unsurprising, says Jennifer Nuzzo, an epidemiology professor and the director of the Pandemic Center at the Brown University School of Public Health. She views these latest decisions as part of a broader effort to make it more difficult for Americans to access vaccines in general. 

“I can’t see that complete departure from evidence-based practice and not worry about what it will mean for Americans to get the vaccines that they may want,” says Nuzzo. 

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Messenger RNA, or mRNA, is a molecule that carries instructions from DNA to make proteins in cells. The mRNA used in medicine is synthetic, meaning it’s made in a lab to deliver specific instructions for cells to make proteins that can stimulate an immune response.

In the case of COVID-19 vaccines, strands of mRNA instruct cells to produce a protein similar to the spike protein found on the surface of the SARS-CoV-2 virus. This protein prompts the immune system to recognize and respond to it, preparing the body to defend against future infections. More than 50 years of research laid the groundwork for these vaccines. In contrast, other older vaccines use a weakened or dead version of a virus to stimulate an immune response. 

Nuzzo describes the mRNA technique as the “3D printer approach to vaccines.” Vaccines can be developed quickly, relatively cheaply, and tailored to specific needs. This flexibility is why many scientists are excited about the potential for mRNA technology to yield cures for a range of diseases. The mRNA platform can be used to encode any protein a researcher wants. 

“The prospect and importance of mRNA-based therapeutics, be it a vaccine or another kind of deliverable, is immense,” says Raj Kishore, a professor and chair of the Department of Cardiovascular Sciences at Temple University School of Medicine. Kishore leads a team developing an mRNA-based therapy that could improve cardiac health following a heart attack. 

His work is currently not affected by funding cuts or any new directives. But there’s a feeling of uncertainty. Whether or not the same anti-mRNA policy will be expanded to other applications is an open question. If that does happen, research can go to waste even if a new administration adopts a different policy in the future. “The harm that comes from stopping science today cannot be overcome within a few years,” says Kishore. 

Nuzzo also worries that cuts to mRNA research in one area could limit support for developing the ability to treat other diseases. One possibility is that it could shrink the pool of researchers. If they can’t do research in this area, they’re going to do it on something else, she says. 

They might go somewhere else, too. When Melamed attended a couple of international conferences this summer, she saw how interested European countries were in recruiting American scientists. Ultimately, researchers also need to pay rent. When funding is cut, so are salaries. 

While the U.S. might be distancing itself from mRNA, other countries are doubling down, says Coller. Take China: The Pfizer and Moderna shots were more effective than China’s whole-virus, inactivated vaccine (the HHS states it’s now pursuing new vaccines based on whole-virus inactivated vaccines). That’s why China is now developing its own mRNA Covid vaccine. 

In turn, biopharmaceutical companies may move their operations overseas, where they can be sure their products will be approved, says Coller. From there, there are a handful of ways it could be difficult for Americans to access what’s developed, whether it’s an mRNA vaccine for a new pandemic or an mRNA therapy for pancreatic cancer. Americans might have to get in a very long line for access; they might be prohibited from accessing them by health agencies. They might have to travel to another country to receive a vaccine or be treated, which is an option available only to those who can afford it.  

Most scientists share a common goal, says Kishore, and that’s “to make human life better.” Curbing the development of science won’t just put the United States behind our competitors. Ultimately, he says, “it is the patients who are going to suffer if new technologies are not available for them.”

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Before Covid, Coller didn’t think about talking to journalists and politicians. He mostly thought about this work. Then there was the pandemic, and he witnessed how misinformation and poor public dialogue led to frustration with, and later, mistrust of the vaccines. Now he views communicating the mRNA science as part of “the work I try to do for the American people so their lives can be better.” 

Public opinion, like Bhattacharya wrote, does matter. Opinions can stem from individual experiences and emotions, like the sort that arise when navigating your health. Opinions can also emerge from discussions, where word choice and disclosure are crucial. Words can be deliberately used, as when a vaccine is described as “traditional” rather than “outdated,” or when the words “vaccine” or “mRNA” are excluded by a researcher afraid their research will be vilified. 

Canceling research for vaccines and therapies that don’t exist yet might sound bad, but feel inconsequential until you or a loved one needs those tools. You can’t feel the effect of something that won’t happen. You might not realize you’ve experienced a loss. You just know the consequence. 

So what’s said, and what isn’t, has impact. Nuzzo was horrified to see that, a few days after the mRNA wind-down announcement, a gunman who allegedly believed the mRNA Covid vaccine harmed him opened fire on the Centers for Disease Control, killing police officer David Rose. Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has contributed to the conspiracy theories that claim the Covid vaccine is one of the “deadliest” ever made. Neither President Donald Trump nor Secretary Kennedy has met with CDC staffers after the attack. 

A word can also be a boogeyman. A bill introduced in Minnesota would designate “mRNA injections and products as weapons of mass destruction.” The same use of mRNA that could help a kid with debilitating celiac disease or a parent with cancer. Yes, limiting mRNA research puts us at risk if there’s another pandemic or a bioweapon attack. It also keeps us vulnerable to the medical challenges we’re already encountering. 

“There’s so much uncertainty, but on some level, we just have to deal with it because there’s still science to be done,” says Melamed. “We’re going to do as much science as we can for as long as we can.”