Why Doctors Can’t Stay Out of Politics—Especially Now

Whenever I write about healthcare policies or public health concerns, I hear the same refrain: “Doctors should stay out of politics.” But here’s the truth: it’s simply not possible. Politics shapes nearly every aspect of healthcare—from the funding that drives groundbreaking research to the regulations that ensure medications are safe, to the access patients have to essential services. Decisions made in government affect whether patients can afford their prescriptions, if clinical trials are inclusive of women and minorities, or even if accurate public health data is available at all.

For doctors to stay “out of politics” would mean ignoring the very systems that impact our ability to provide care, protect lives, and advocate for the well-being of our patients. In short, medicine and politics are inextricably linked, whether we like it or not.

And right now, that connection is under attack.

In the past two weeks alone, the CDC and NIH websites have been quietly stripped of important information on women’s health. Resources that once provided guidance on menopause, pregnancy, reproductive health, and conditions disproportionately affecting women have vanished, leaving patients and providers without access to crucial evidence-based data. This bureaucratic change results in the erasure of public health information that affects half the population.

This purge is part of a broader pattern: the ongoing dismantling of policies that support health equity and scientific transparency. We’ve seen it before. It wasn’t until the National Institutes of Health Revitalization Act of 1993 that researchers were required to include women and people of color in federally funded clinical trials. Before that, much of what we knew about diseases and treatments was based on studies conducted predominantly on men. Yet, even today, disparities persist, affecting how drugs, devices, and treatment guidelines are developed and implemented.

Now, that progress is at risk. Executive orders rolling back diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives may knowingly or unknowingly undermine these hard-won gains. Without intentional policies to address inequities in research, we risk returning to a system where women’s health—and the health of other marginalized groups—is an afterthought. Imagine fewer studies on menopause, contraceptives, or conditions like endometriosis, not because they aren’t important, but because they aren’t politically expedient to fund.

One of the most critical ongoing studies on women’s health, the Study of Women’s Health Across the Nation (SWAN), is at risk. Since 1994, SWAN has provided invaluable insights into how menopause impacts cardiovascular health, bone density, cognitive function, and more. It has shaped guidelines for everything from hormone therapy to osteoporosis prevention. Without continued funding, this decades-long study—one of the only large-scale efforts to track women’s health over time—could be derailed, leaving gaping holes in our understanding of midlife health. Women already suffer from an underfunding of research; losing SWAN would set us back even further.

The NIH, the CDC, and the FDA are cornerstones of public health. They fund research, track outbreaks, monitor safety, and provide the data that shapes medical care. When politics interferes with their ability to operate—whether through funding freezes, executive orders, or leadership changes—we all feel the consequences. A delayed study on a drug that could prevent breast cancer, stalled tracking of infectious diseases, or a gag order on research findings are not abstract concerns; they’re issues that impact lives.

Take the latest findings on the H5N1 bird flu virus. A recent CDC paper revealed that this virus appears to cause disproportionately high mortality in pregnant women. This is critical information—not just for researchers but for public health preparedness. Knowing that pregnant women are especially vulnerable means vaccine and antiviral research can focus on protecting them, clinical trials can ensure women are properly represented, and physicians can take extra precautions with their pregnant patients. Without this data, doctors might not know to counsel pregnant patients differently, hospitals might not be prepared for a surge in severe cases, and the medical community as a whole could miss an opportunity to prevent unnecessary deaths. But if government leaders decide that certain public health topics are too “inconvenient” to research or report, lives will be lost—not hypothetically, but in real numbers.

And there’s another storm brewing: statements from key figures who are hinting at “giving infectious disease research a break” or gutting funding for “unnecessary” studies. This isn’t just anti-science rhetoric; it’s a direct threat to public health. Infectious diseases do not “take a break” and women will not suddenly stop getting pregnant or need estrogen to treat hot flashes. If we’re not tracking data, we can’t identify and address disparities, recognize and respond to outbreaks, or understand the consequences of policy changes.

Health has always been political, whether it’s about funding life-saving research or protecting the right to accurate information. The stakes are high. If you care about advancements in menopause research, access to contraceptives, ensuring that your medications are safe and effective, or understanding the differences between men and women when it comes to cardiovascular disease, dementia, and countless other health issues, then you care about how politics shapes health.

This is a pivotal moment for women’s health—and everyone’s health. We must remain vigilant, informed, and engaged because the stones being thrown aren’t just aimed at progress; they’re aimed at us.