Viva Life!
Or: Why I'm super excited about making America healthy again.
Finally! After months of reading news that sets my teeth on edge and writing just to regain equilibrium, I’ve finally found something uncontroversial: Life is good, and we should all have more of it. Everyone values their own life. Many of us even value life in general. Through good days and bad, life…uh…finds a way.
Think about it. What’s the one holiday every single one of us celebrates? Birthdays. Every person, everywhere—every faith, every culture—gets one. Walk up to anyone, anywhere, tell them it’s your birthday, and you’ll hear it in every language: Happy birthday. Cake or no cake, candles or no candles, nobody’s fighting about it. No one’s boycotting birthdays. There’s never been a “war on birthdays.”
And what about new life? Babies—people love them. Little people! With tiny fingers and squishy faces. Even ugly babies are adorable, right up until they’re wailing through a seven-hour transatlantic flight. But even then, it’s hard to stay mad. Long flights suck. I’d cry too, if I thought I could get away with it.
And at the other end of the ride? Death. The grand finale. The great equalizer. Sure, every culture’s got its own ceremonies, beliefs, and cosmic coping mechanisms, but they all orbit the same unavoidable truth: life’s too short.
I’ll say it again: Life is good, and we should all have more of it.
I was in this life-affirming mindset when I came across Trump’s executive order establishing the President’s Make America Healthy Again commission (MAHA). Now if you’ve read literally anything I’ve written before, you already know I’m skeptical of US politicians in general and the current administration in particular. But this executive order is something I can get behind. Right out of the gate, it offers an unambiguous goal: Life expectancy, America needs more of it.
Section 1. Purpose. American life expectancy significantly lags behind other developed countries, with pre‑COVID-19 United States life expectancy averaging 78.8 years and comparable countries averaging 82.6 years. This equates to 1.25 billion fewer life years for the United States population. Six in 10 Americans have at least one chronic disease, and four in 10 have two or more chronic diseases. An estimated one in five United States adults lives with a mental illness.
It’s the 21st century, and like most everyone else, I have technology-induced ADHD, so this is as far as I got before I got distracted by research. I wanted to know who these smug “comparable countries” were, and what they’re doing to maintain a 1.25 billion life year advantage over the land of the free.
I dug around in the CIA World Factbook and found eight OECD1 countries with average life expectancies longer than the 82.6 year figure mentioned in the executive order: Japan (85.0), Switzerland (84.4), Australia (83.6), Iceland (83.5), Norway (83.2), South Korea (83.1), Israel (83.0), and France (82.7).
Obviously, these countries know something we don’t. We should be doing whatever they’re doing. They’ve got the cheat code for longer life. And Trump is gonna get it for us, because Trump is a man of action. So what’s the secret? What one thing do all these countries have in common that we lack?
Spoiler alert: it’s universal healthcare.
The US does not have universal healthcare by any standard global definition. Instead, the US has public programs like Medicare, Medicaid, and the Affordable Care Act—patchwork solutions that leave millions without coverage. Unlike the eight countries listed above, which guarantee healthcare access to all residents as a right, the US relies heavily on employer-based insurance and out-of-pocket expenses, creating gaps in coverage. But every time some renegade Democrat brings up universal healthcare, American politicians on both sides of the aisle clutch their pearls and mumble “socialism” like it’s an incantation.
Holy shit. This is it. The concept of a plan is now an actual plan.
We’re getting universal healthcare!!!
But before you cancel your private insurance and start daydreaming about French dental care and Icelandic maternity leave, let’s pump the brakes. Because after reading the rest of the executive order—twice, with highlighters—there’s no indication whatsoever that universal healthcare is even on the table. Not in the margins. Not in the subtext. Not even in a typo.
The order talks a lot about chronic disease, price transparency, and empowering patients, which is political code for “we’re not changing who pays, we’re just going to itemize your suffering.” There’s plenty of language about “flexibility” and “empowering choice,” but if you're hoping for a system that guarantees healthcare access as a right—like every single one of our longer-living peer countries—you’re gonna be waiting a while.
Consider my enthusiasm duly dampened. But still, the executive order points a finger at three main culprits dragging us down the life expectancy ladder: our healthcare system, government policy, and research practices. The diagnosis is spot-on—our systems are bloated, politicized, and often guided more by profit than by public health. But as anyone who’s ever seen a doctor about a weird lump knows, naming the problem is the easy part. The real question is whether we’re going to do anything about it.
So let’s look around the global neighborhood. Our longer-living peers—Japan, Switzerland, Australia, Iceland, Norway, South Korea, Israel, and France—aren’t outliving us because they’re genetically superior or drinking magic glacier water (though Iceland might be). When it comes to the three problem areas identified in the MAHA order, they’re doing things differently. Systemically. Strategically.
Healthcare System
When we talk about the healthcare system, we’re talking about who gets care, how they get it, how much they pay, and who profits from the whole mess. It includes everything from insurance coverage to prescription drug costs, from your ability to find a doctor to whether you can afford to see one without first checking your bank account. In other words, it’s the structure we’ve built—or failed to build—for delivering medical care in this country.
Now, every one of the countries beating us on life expectancy has already cracked this code. Japan, France, Australia—take your pick—they all guarantee healthcare access as a right. Not a perk. Not a gamble. A right. Some do it through single-payer systems, some through regulated insurance markets, but the result is the same: everyone gets care, and no one ends up crowdfunding chemo on the internet. They also spend less than we do, and they get better outcomes. And perhaps most importantly, they take preventive care seriously. You don’t wait until stage four to check things out—you get regular screenings, dietary support, and early interventions before your body becomes a financial liability.
To its credit, the MAHA order doesn’t ignore this. It correctly names chronic disease as a national crisis and calls for a shift from management to prevention. There’s even a hint—just a hint—that insurance might be nudged into covering lifestyle changes that improve long-term health. That’s something. And sure, there’s the usual talk about empowering patients and increasing transparency, which could mean protecting people from predatory billing... or it could mean dumping more responsibility on individuals and walking away.
What the order doesn’t do is guarantee anyone access to actual care. There’s no mention of expanding coverage, no commitment to affordability, and certainly no embrace of the kind of universal healthcare every one of our peer countries already has. And whatever vague good intentions might be hiding between the lines, they’re immediately undercut by actual policy proposals in 2025—like the administration’s plan to slash Medicaid, a program that covers more than 80 million low-income Americans. There’s also been talk of further privatizing healthcare delivery, which in this country usually translates into more exclusions, more costs, and more profits for the middlemen. And still, nothing on drug prices. Nothing on hospital billing scams. Just more emphasis on market "flexibility," as if that’s ever worked out for the sick.
So yes, the executive order gets the problem right. But solving it would require dismantling the system that created it—and nothing in this administration’s actual agenda suggests they’re interested in that. At best, we’re looking at prevention without access. At worst, it’s a sugar-free, wellness-flavored placebo for a population that needs open-heart surgery.
Government Policy
If the healthcare system is what happens once you're already sick, government policy is everything that happens before you get there. It's the air you breathe, the food you eat, the roof over your head, and whether you can afford heat in the winter or prenatal care before a baby arrives. It’s school lunches and minimum wage, zoning laws and maternity leave. These aren't side issues—they’re the foundation of public health. And in the countries where people live the longest, their governments act like that’s true.
The countries ahead of us on life expectancy don’t just hand you a health card and call it a day. They build environments where people are less likely to get sick in the first place. They regulate pollution. They tax cigarettes. They ban certain food additives. They ensure clean water, clean air, affordable housing, and functional public transit. They make it possible for people to walk to a store, eat vegetables that aren’t pre-fried, and take a day off without risking homelessness. These aren't utopias—just places where the government functions with a baseline commitment to collective well-being.
To be fair, the MAHA executive order hints at some of this. It nods to working with farmers to make food healthier and more abundant. It mentions environmental factors as a potential contributor to chronic illness. It includes the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, the EPA Administrator, and even the Secretary of Education on the commission. That's not nothing. There’s language about empowering research on the root causes of disease—including diet, lifestyle, and toxic exposures—which, if taken seriously, could lay the groundwork for some genuinely helpful reforms.
But just like with healthcare, the signal is drowned out by the noise of actual 2025 policies. Cuts to SNAP, the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, are already on the table. That’s right—at the same time this order says we should make food healthier and more accessible, the administration is proposing to reduce food access for low-income families. Medicaid cuts hit here too, since that program supports not just healthcare but also services related to housing, transportation, and community health. And while the order calls for transparency and less “industry influence,” the administration has also rolled back environmental protections, fast-tracked deregulation efforts, and shown no interest in holding corporate polluters accountable.
It’s a whiplash effect—one paragraph of public health buzzwords followed by three months of budgetary sabotage. If Japan bans trans fats and the U.S. defunds school lunch programs, we’re not on parallel paths. We’re not even on the same map.
Research Practices
This one gets less airtime in social media debate, but it’s just as crucial. Research practices determine what questions get asked, who gets to answer them, and how those answers shape public policy—if they do at all. It's the difference between discovering a breakthrough and doing something about it. In the U.S., our research pipeline is world-class in theory but sluggish, fragmented, and often derailed by politics, profit motives, or both.
In the countries where people live longer, research is tightly linked to action. Evidence doesn’t just sit in academic journals gathering dust while the public battles another round of medical bankruptcy. It’s funneled directly into public health campaigns, safety regulations, food policy, and environmental protections. These governments invest in research on social and environmental factors—stress, air quality, food systems—not just pharmaceuticals. And when something works, they roll it out. Nationally. Swiftly. Without having to check if it offends a donor.
Here, we tend to treat science like a buffet: take the findings that suit your agenda, leave the rest. We pour billions into clinical trials for blockbuster drugs but underfund research into prevention, diet, or environmental health. And even when we do get good data, there’s no guarantee it makes it past the editorial page. Between lobbying, regulatory capture, and good old-fashioned denialism, the U.S. has a bad habit of using science to decorate policy—not drive it.
That’s why it was such a shock to read the MAHA order and realize: this is actually where it shines. It calls for research into the root causes of chronic disease—diet, toxins, medication overuse—and demands transparency, open-source data, and the elimination of industry influence. It’s practically a manifesto for depoliticized science. There’s even talk of ethics reviews and methodology upgrades. I mean, hell yes. If this executive order were the root and branch of policy, I’d have it printed on a tote bag.
But, as always, there’s the press release and then there’s the follow-through.
Because while MAHA talks about protecting research from bias and elevating gold-standard science, the same administration is quietly dismantling the infrastructure needed to do any of it. The NIH has already canceled more than 60 research grants focused on LGBTQ health—covering everything from HIV prevention to cancer and mental health—because apparently “root cause” research only counts if it doesn’t offend anyone at a campaign rally. Meanwhile, the agency capped indirect cost funding for grants at 15%, down from the 27–50% range many research institutions relied on to keep the lights on. Universities are now expected to cover lab space, equipment, utilities, and admin support themselves—which has led top research schools to freeze hiring, delay projects, and in some cases, stop accepting new Ph.D. students altogether.
And it doesn’t stop there. The FDA has lost physical sites in 23 states due to federal lease terminations, including labs and inspection offices that monitor the safety of the very drugs and devices MAHA wants studied. Add in the threats to pull federal funding from any university that doesn’t eliminate DEI programs—regardless of whether they’re relevant to the research at hand—and you start to get the picture.
So sure, the MAHA order calls for better science. But the administration’s actions amount to the opposite: defund critical research, destabilize the institutions that produce it, and politicize the conditions for academic survival. You can’t do gold-standard research without equipment. Or researchers. Or a functioning place to do it.
At this point, it’s hard not to notice the shape forming beneath the press release polish. The MAHA order talks a big game about improving public health, but once you sift through the contradictions, omissions, and policy booby traps, it starts to look less like a roadmap to wellness and more like a wellness-branded distraction. So what’s really going on?
Let’s start with the most conspicuous tell: the emphasis on children. Now don’t get me wrong—kids are great, tiny fingers, squishy faces, etc.—but the order isn’t just concerned with healthy children. It’s concerned with militarily eligible children. There’s a whole section tying national security to fitness standards and chronic disease rates among the young. The logic seems to be: we must improve public health… so we can invade Greenland. Or wherever we’re annexing next. You know, for freedom.
And then there’s autism. The executive order drops a stat about rising autism diagnoses into the same paragraph as chronic disease and cancer rates, as if autism is some kind of degenerative illness. It’s not. Autistic people aren’t sick. They’re not defective. And citing autism prevalence as a national health crisis—especially with no comparative context or action plan—isn’t just inaccurate. It’s a dog whistle to the anti-vax set. Worse yet, it implies there’s something wrong with neurodivergent kids, something to “fix,” something to fear. That’s not public health. That’s eugenics with better branding.
The same goes for the weird nods to vague “environmental factors,” like electromagnetic radiation—another dog whistle, this time to the conspiracy-curious wellness set. It’s a slippery reference, but not a subtle one. Remember, this executive order was signed by the same guy who claimed “windmills cause cancer,” so when it says “electromagnetism,” it’s not talking about MRI safety protocols. It’s winking at people who think 5G towers are part of a mind control plot.
And then there’s the Kennedy problem. MAHA’s most vocal backer and rumored architect, Robert F. Kennedy Jr.—now the Secretary of the US Department of Health and Human Services—has made his name peddling discredited claims about vaccines. Lately, he’s doubled down on dissing the measles vaccine. That’s right, the one that actually eradicated a deadly disease that’s now making a comeback in places like Texas. We don’t need research into whether vaccines are the problem. We need research into how we let this guy anywhere near the Cabinet.
Finally, let’s talk deregulation. MAHA takes plenty of swings at “industry influence” and FDA shortcomings, but nowhere does it propose replacing a flawed regulatory system with a stronger one. The subtext is clear: tear down the gatekeepers and let the market decide what’s safe. And if you think Big Pharma is bad, wait until you meet its final form: Big Unregulated Pharma, now with 100% more lead, arsenic, or whatever else they can squeeze into a supplement and market on Instagram. There is nothing worse for your health than lead in your raw milk—and if the FDA’s gone, you won’t even know it’s there.
So yes, the MAHA executive order starts with something everyone can agree on: life is good, and we should all have more of it. But in the end, it reads less like a plan to improve public health and more like a Trojan horse—one that swaps evidence for vibes, regulation for branding, and medical science for ideology dressed up in a lab coat.
And that’s the real problem. Because while we argue over whether windmills cause autism or kale is a deep state plot, Americans are still dying younger than they should. Still going bankrupt from preventable illness. Still waiting for care in a country that promises freedom but delivers billing codes.
Life is good. We should all have more of it. But we won’t get there by pretending that pseudoscience is a cure. We’ll get there the same way everyone else already did—through smart policy, accessible care, and science that serves the public good.
So here’s to more candles, more cake, and a country that takes public health seriously.
OECD stands for the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development. It is an international organization of 38 member countries, mostly high-income nations, that work together to promote economic growth, trade, and global development. The OECD also collects and publishes comparative data on economic, health, and social policies, making it a common source for benchmarking metrics like life expectancy. More here: OECD - Wikipedia






Don’t dance past the compulsive service angle. It’s this fat turd’s wet dream to have a sea of soldiers saluting him à la Nuremberg ‘34.