Childhood vaccines are one of those public health wins that work so well, we’ve almost forgotten what life was like before them. Well, allow me to remind you. Picture it. 1952. The peak of the 1950’s polio outbreak that sickened approximately 57,000 Americans and resulted in nearly 20,000 cases of paralysis and 3,000 deaths. Polio paralyzed tens of thousands of children each year—until it didn’t. Measles once sent millions of children to the hospital—until it largely disappeared. Smallpox? Gone.

That’s why recent changes to childhood vaccine recommendations under Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. (who by the way, has no medical degree nor medical training) should concern every parent, provider, and policymaker who cares about children’s health—not to mention the collective progress we’ve made as a nation.

The new guidance signals a departure from a long-standing, evidence-based childhood immunization policy. Instead of reinforcing routine vaccination as the default standard of care, the updated recommendations emphasize “parental choice,” elevate individual discretion over population-level protection, and suggest aligning U.S. vaccine policy more closely with countries like Denmark, which uses a more limited routine childhood schedule. 

Now you’re probably wondering, “Why does Denmark have fewer routine childhood vaccines?” Denmark has universal healthcare, minimal child poverty, strong social safety nets, and very high trust in government institutions. Meanwhile, the U.S. has none of those things consistently. You cannot borrow one policy from another country without borrowing the conditions that make it work. 

The U.S. childhood immunization schedule isn’t a guess. It’s a carefully engineered system built over decades using clinical trials, real-world data, continuous and vigorous safety monitoring, and regular review by—you guessed it—independent credentialed experts.

Every recommended vaccine earns its place based on the disease severity, transmission risk, safety profile, and long-term benefit. This is not a “throw everything at kids” approach. It’s a “prevent the worst outcomes as early and safely as possible” strategy.

I probably don’t have to tell you that infants encounter far more immune challenges from crawling on the floor and licking the remote than from the entire vaccine schedule. Modern vaccines are actually more refined and targeted than those used decades ago.

And no—despite years of searching—vaccines do not cause autism. What they do cause is fewer funerals, fewer hospital stays, fewer out of pocket medical costs, and fewer parents learning the hard way why prevention matters.

The previous recommendations succeeded because they were clear, consistent, and rooted in shared responsibility. When vaccination is framed as optional or negotiable, uptake drops. When uptake drops, outbreaks rise.

Case in point: the United States is currently experiencing a measles resurgence—a disease we declared eliminated in 2000. Measles is not a harmless childhood inconvenience. It is one of the most contagious viruses on Earth and can cause pneumonia, brain inflammation, permanent disability, and death. I don’t know about the rest of you but the thought of my toddler experiencing any of the aforementioned afflictions makes me shiver. By the way, this isn’t fear-mongering. It’s epidemiology.

Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time that RFK Jr.’s vaccine skepticism resulted in devastating outcomes. His public opposition to the measles vaccine played a documented role in declining vaccination rates in Samoa before a devastating 2019 outbreak that killed dozens of children. 

Public health doesn’t forget outcomes like that—not because we enjoy being right, but because children pay the price when misinformation wins.

Long story short, the human race cannot and will not survive on just sea moss and vibes. Vaccines are not just shots. They are one of humanity’s greatest public health achievements—right up there with clean water and sanitation. They’ve added decades to life expectancy, prevented disability, and allowed parents to raise children without fearing diseases that once haunted every household.

My mom used to say that some people have to touch the stove to realize it’s hot. Unfortunately, when it comes to vaccines, “learning the hard way” means outbreaks, hospitalizations, and preventable deaths—hardly the kind of lesson plan we should be assigning children.