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Hi, my name is Anthony Fauci. You’ve probably gotten used to seeing me on TV every day at those press conferences. You know, I’m 79 already and I probably should have retired years ago. It’s just that I love being a scientist, I love overseeing clinical trials, and I love the fact that I am a large part of keeping the public safe from a range of infectious diseases. NIH (the National Institutes of Health) has been my home for over 50 years, since 1968, and for more than 35 years I’ve overseen the work of the National Institute of Allergy & Infectious Disease (NIAID).
So you could say that I’ve been around and I’ve seen it all. In the late 80’s when HIV was the scourge of the planet, I was new to NIAID and I had to deal with Ronald Reagan. I remember liking his movies and yes, it turns out that he wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box. But at least he was caring and committed. More important, he was smart enough to understand the difference between rumor and hearsay versus hard evidence, and he knew he was clueless. Most important, he knew enough to let the experts take the lead and to have his administration generate policy based on our advice.
In 2014, I had the privilege of working alongside Barack Obama as we fought the Ebola virus. Obama began with all of Reagan’s good instincts, but there was so much more to him. He recognized that he didn’t know the first thing about medicine. But, wow, was he smart. He knew how to ask good questions, he knew the importance of relying on data and scientific evidence, and he knew when and how to challenge us. He read, he listened, he questioned, and he engaged us as peers trying to solve a scientific puzzle. We did the science, he took the lead in the battle—and we won it due to that collaboration.
So, did I say that I stayed one administration too long? This guy here, this fool that I have to stand behind daily, doesn’t understand, doesn’t respect, doesn’t really care for anything other than avoiding blame and taking credit. He cautions when he should reassure. He reassures when he should be absolutely silent. He blathers on about “hunches.” He should be paying attention to the New England Journal of Medicine, but instead he’s getting his information from Fox News. I know I’m supposed to stand there stone-faced every time we’re out there, but the other day I just couldn’t take it and I had to put my hand over my head. His staff didn’t like that, but as they used to say back where I grew up in Brooklyn, “Tough sh-t.”
So I and my staff avoid him and work around him as best as we can. In public, I try not to say things that directly contradict that buffoon, even though it’s almost impossible. I try to let people know that there’s a very important difference between general impressions, what we call anecdotal evidence, and hard data based on randomized controlled trials. I try to let people know that they should be informed by the evidence, not rumors or so-called hunches.
And I know, regardless of a lack of intelligence, understanding, or compassion at the top, that we’ll beat this thing. We will. In spite of him.
