Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s Dangerous Autism Rhetoric Has No Place at the Helm of Public Health

I must again respond—this time to RFK Jr’s shocking and insulting ‘pledge’ to find the ‘cause’ of autism by September. The responsibility I carry for the welfare of my clients compels me to speak out again in no uncertain terms.

From the start it was clear that the appointment of Robert F. Kennedy Jr. as United States Secretary of Health and Human Services is not merely a political misstep—it is a public health crisis in the making. His long and well-documented history of promoting discredited conspiracy theories about autism (as with any number of other public health issues) should have disqualified him from any position of influence over national health policy. Instead, he now presides over the most powerful public health institution in the United States. This most recent 'pledge' is not only scientifically absurd—it is a stark reminder of the destructive and ableist agenda he brings into office.

Kennedy’s rhetoric about autism has never stemmed from compassion. It is rooted in fear, pseudoscience, and a fundamental misunderstanding of neurodiversity. He has consistently framed autistic individuals as damaged by vaccines and environmental toxins—victims of systemic failure, rather than people of inherent worth and dignity. This view is not only scientifically baseless; it is morally indefensible.

With federal authority now at his disposal, Kennedy’s views are no longer fringe. They risk becoming embedded in public discourse, institutionalised through policy, and amplified by systems that are meant to protect the very people he dehumanises.

The scientific consensus is unequivocal: autism is a naturally occurring variation in human neurodevelopment.

The rise in autism diagnoses over recent decades does not signal a crisis—it represents progress. It reflects a more nuanced understanding of the human mind and experience, shaped by improved diagnostic criteria, greater awareness of how autism presents differently across genders, and a broader curiosity about the complexity of our brains. This is not an epidemic. It is a long-overdue recognition of neurodiversity in all its forms.

For women specifcally, this recognition has been nothing short of transformative. For decades, many were misdiagnosed with mental health disorders such as generalised anxiety disorder, borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, or chronic depression. These clinical errors often led to the mis-prescribing of powerful psychiatric medications—treatments that failed because they were aimed at the wrong target. The real source of these women’s lifelong anxiety, sensory sensitivity, or sense of alienation was seldom understood, obscured by a diagnostic system built around male norms. To finally receive an autism diagnosis has been, for many, a revelation and a liberation. It has allowed them to reframe their lives with compassion, find community, and pursue support that truly reflects their lived experience. This is a story I have heard time and time again from women I have worked with over the years.

Men and boys, too, have benefited from a more nuanced understanding of autism. They are no longer automatically categorised according to outdated behavioural checklists or denied support unless their challenges are externally disruptive. The broadening of diagnostic frameworks has allowed countless individuals to better understand themselves, access services, and escape the pathologising narratives that once defined their difference as a deficit.

It is vital to challenge Kennedy’s deeply regressive view of autism—one that equates it almost exclusively with profound disability. This is not only inaccurate; it is profoundly harmful. His narrow framing ignores the full spectrum of autistic experience and perpetuates a view rooted in fear, pity, and pathology. Reality demonstrates with ever increasingly clarity that the vast majority of autistic people do not have any co-occurring intellectual disabilities. What I see so often in my work is highly intelligent young people whose executive functioning skills sets need supporting in a way that is different than those of their neurotypical peers, and how this lack of understanding by the systems around them is so often the source of anxiety and frustration. And yet, Kennedy’s rhetoric would have the public believe that autism is always synonymous with severe impairment—effectively erasing the experiences of those whose support needs are different but no less valid. By distorting public understanding in this way, he undermines the progress made by decades of advocacy and research.

We must not allow this kind of reductionism to guide national health policy. The cost—to science, to social cohesion, and to the well-being of millions—would be profound.

In the face of this reality, RFK's narrative is not only outdated—it is exclusionary and dangerous. It suggests that neurodivergent people are broken versions of a supposed norm, rather than fully realised human beings with value, agency, and potential. It reinforces stigma. It undermines support. It fosters a culture of rejection.

When such views are held by a private citizen, they are harmful. When they are held by the Secretary of Health and Human Services, they threaten to reshape national policy in ways that can have profound and long-lasting consequences.

This appointment sends a chilling message: that the dignity, rights, and lived experiences of autistic people are subject to the authority of someone who has spent years denying their legitimacy. That is not governance. It is betrayal.

Make no mistake: Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is not a champion of public health. He is a danger to it—and to all of us. His elevation to this role not only compromises the integrity of the health system, but also places vulnerable communities at far greater risk and further entrenches a culture of misinformation and destructive stigmatisation.

If Kennedy cannot speak of autistic people without invoking fear and falsehood, he has no business overseeing the systems meant to protect them. It is as simple as that.

The lives, rights, and futures of autistic and all neurodivergent people are not up for debate. They are not political bargaining chips. They are not public health failures. They are citizens who deserve care, respect, and representation—especially from the government agency charged with their wellbeing.

This is not just about Robert F. Kennedy Jr. as sadly he just represents 'the fish rotting from the head'. This is about what kind of society we are prepared to be.