(RealClearPolitics)—Dr. Jay Bhattacharya – the Stanford professor who is President-elect Donald Trump’s nominee for the directorship of the National Institutes of Health – will bring transparency to this government agency, which sorely needs it.
I am an odd person to write a piece supporting Jay Bhattacharya’s nomination to lead the NIH. During the pandemic, I disagreed with Jay on COVID response. Jay supported the Great Barrington Declaration, while I favored a more active and engaged public health response, broadly although not completely along the lines of what was actually done in the United States. At times our differences were fundamental, other times pragmatic. Nonetheless, the differences of opinion between Jay and me on this subject were deep.
I debated Jay over Zoom on the topic of pandemic response, so I am well aware of his views on COVID response, as he is of mine. Our debate was not archived but was roughly similar to the Munk Debate I did with Jay’s Stanford colleague, John Ioannidis, and the SoHo Forum debate I did with Jay’s Great Barrington collaborator, Martin Kulldorff. These discussions are dated now, but they still reflect deep intellectual rifts that were brought into sharp relief by COVID and the collective response to it.
What makes my endorsement of Jay all the more peculiar is that he and I still disagree on COVID response. I know because I had the chance to talk with Jay and others in October at a conference that he organized at Stanford, at which I served as a panelist. What’s more, Jay invited me to this conference knowing that his and my opinions on this subject continue to diverge. Here and in other examples, I have seen Jay’s commitment to hearing diverse and disagreeing viewpoints. Jay is not one to try to muzzle a dissenting opinion.
The most important outstanding item on the COVID agenda is: Where did SARS-CoV-2 – the virus that causes COVID – come from? The pursuit of this question is where Jay Bhattacharya and I have the most in common. I am on the advisory board of Biosafety Now, an organization dedicated to increasing transparency in high-risk experiments on pathogens with the capacity to harm people. Jay was, for a time, also involved with BN.
The stakes could not be higher: COVID killed 15 million people worldwide in 2020 and hasn’t stopped killing, although thankfully at a lower rate more recently. Tracing the origins of epidemics is one of the cornerstones of public health. This task is woven into its very fabric, even from before John Snow’s founding the science of epidemiology in the 19th century, through to the work of American pioneer Theobald Smith in the 20th century, and to the present day. There are a number of questions about COVID that may point to SARS-CoV-2 having leaked from a lab.
The NIH has not heretofore acted with enough transparency on COVID origins. It was a funder of gain-of-function research on coronaviruses. Former NIH director Francis Collins and former director of NIAID (National Institute for Allergy and Infectious Diseases), Anthony Fauci, were both major proponents of gain-of-function virology research, some of which is objectively dangerous enough to require the highest security (BSL-4) labs (think: labs inside an air lock and researchers in pressure suits). Grants from NIH in this area included funding the research of Peter Daszak of EcoHealth Alliance and Peter Hotez of the Baylor College of Medicine.
However, NIH has not acted to shed light on its actions, and has even stonewalled Congress.
There is nothing inherently political about wanting to know where COVID comes from; it is a core function of epidemiology. It is virologists – not those in epidemiology who wish to get to the bottom of COVID origins – who have politicized the COVID origins debate. As one of my colleagues at the University of California, Irvine condescendingly scolded me via email in 2022: “Suggesting lab leaks or worse (without any real evidence) feeds into the right-wing, anti-China conspiracies promoted by the Trump administration.” Other virologists have shown a remarkable incuriosity: “What difference does it make where it [SARS-CoV-2] came from?” asked another one of my University of California, Irvine colleagues, at a conference here. It makes an enormous difference. To avoid a repeat of COVID, we need better regulation of gain-of-function virology, and full transparency about coronavirus research in the years leading up to the pandemic.
Jay Bhattacharya understands that the NIH budget is public money, and that every American is a stakeholder in research performed by NIH, including the grants it makes to external scientists. He and I had, and continue to have, deep disagreements about the public health response to COVID, but the most important task facing NIH at the moment is give the world a full account of its involvement in research on the bat viruses that are the ancestor of the COVID virus, so we can better understand how SARS-CoV-2 jumped into humans. Transparency is a principal (and principled) solution to lack of public trust in institutions. I am confident that Jay’s pursuit of transparency can restore public trust in NIH.
Bypass Big Tech Censors
Two Storms, One Harvest
Every food crisis in living memory has been a one-shock event. The 2008 price spike was a commodity bubble. The 2020 shortages were a logistics failure. The 2022 grain scare was a war on one exporter’s ports. Each time, the system bent, adjusted, and recovered, and each time the experts assured us afterward that global markets are simply too big and too diversified to fail.
What nobody in Washington seems eager to discuss is that 2026 is shaping up to be something the modern food system has never actually faced. Two independent shocks, one climatic and one geopolitical, are converging on the same harvest cycle at the same time. Not sequentially. Simultaneously.
Start with the weather. The Pacific Ocean is currently building toward what forecasters now openly call a record event. NOAA’s Climate Prediction Center puts the odds of at least a strong El Niño near 88 percent, with roughly two in three odds it reaches “very strong” status, the tier reserved for perhaps three or four events in the entire satellite era. Every major global model now projects a median peak in Super El Niño territory, and most of them project it exceeding the 2015-16 event, which until now held the modern record. Sea surface anomalies were already brushing the super threshold in mid-July, months before these events normally peak. The atmosphere has already shifted into El Niño mode, and the event is forecast to crest in late fall and early winter.
This is not about “climate change.” It’s about the standard cycles of weather, and the cycle we’re currently in is one that has likely devastated societies in the past. We’re better prepared as a society today, but not all Americans are equally prepared.
Serious households have started doing the quiet math on their own. Grocery bills tell part of the story, and the forecast maps tell the rest, which is why long-term food storage has moved from fringe hobby to mainstream line item in the family budget, with established suppliers like Heaven’s Harvest seeing demand from people who five years ago would have rolled their eyes at the idea. That instinct is not paranoia. It is pattern recognition, and the pattern is worth walking through carefully.
Editor’s Note: Heaven’s Harvest IS a sponsor, but the warnings of this article are real and would be written even if we didn’t have a survival food sponsor. With that said, those who take advantage of what they offer can use promo code “Patriot” for 15% off.
The Fertilizer Clock Is Already Running
While the Pacific warms, the second shock has been unfolding in the Strait of Hormuz. The conflict with Iran turned the world’s most important energy chokepoint into a contested waterway, and the consequences reach far beyond the gas pump. Roughly a third of global fertilizer trade moves through Hormuz, and the disruption sent urea prices up 86 percent year over year by March, with a 53 percent jump in a single month.
The World Bank projects energy prices rising about 24 percent in 2026 and fertilizer about 31 percent. By its own accounting, fertilizer prices ran 35 percent higher in the first five months of this year than the same period last year.
Here is the mechanism the nightly news will not explain. Fertilizer is not a grocery item. It is a time-delayed input. The nitrogen a farmer in Iowa or Punjab could not afford to apply this spring does not show up as a problem this spring. It shows up as a thinner harvest six to twelve months later.
The World Bank’s own food security brief concedes that the effects of reduced applications earlier this season “are likely to become visible only later in harvest outcomes.” Translate that from institutional language into plain English and it means this. The damage is already done, it is already in the ground, and we are simply waiting for it to arrive on the shelf.
Now check the calendar. Six to twelve months from the spring planting season lands us squarely in late 2026 and early 2027. Which is precisely when the strongest El Niño in the instrumental record is forecast to peak, bringing its signature droughts to Southeast Asia, Australia, southern Africa, northern Brazil, and South Asia, the very regions that grow the world’s rice, sugar, and oilseeds.
The World Bank warns openly that a strong El Niño “could disrupt multiple crop belts simultaneously” on top of the conflict-driven input costs. Their baseline projection assumes the Middle East disruptions ease by autumn. What in the last two years of Middle East history suggests that assumption is safe?
The System Has No Slack Left
The comfortable answer is that global markets always adjust. But adjustment requires slack, and the slack is gone. Global cereal production is expected to decline from last year’s records even before El Niño does its work. The UN World Food Programme, hardly a den of right-wing preppers, is calling this the most significant disruption to its supply chains since Covid and the invasion of Ukraine, and its supply chain director put the stakes bluntly.
Today’s supply chain challenges are tomorrow’s hunger crisis.
There is also a political dimension that markets cannot price. When food gets scarce, governments do not behave like economists. They behave like politicians. Export bans, hoarding mandates, and panic buying at the national level turned the modest rice shortfall of 2008 into a global crisis, and analysts are already warning that import-dependent nations are the first dominoes.
The 2015-16 Super El Niño, a far weaker event than what is now forecast, threw tens of millions into food stress across Africa and Asia. This one is projected to be stronger, and it arrives with fertilizer already rationed by price and shipping lanes already contested by missiles.
What Joseph Knew
Scripture does not treat preparation for lean years as faithlessness. It treats it as wisdom delivered in advance to those willing to act on it.
Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt: And there shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt.
Joseph did not respond to that warning with a hashtag or a committee. He stored grain during the years of abundance, and when the famine came, Egypt stood while its neighbors begged. The lesson is not that famine is certain. It is that the time to prepare is precisely when preparation still looks optional.
Nobody who filled a pantry in a year of plenty has ever regretted it, and nobody standing in an empty aisle has ever been glad he waited for certainty.
None of this calls for panic, and panic is the enemy of sound judgment anyway. It calls for the same unglamorous prudence our grandparents considered ordinary. Keep some cash margin, know your local growers, and put real food in deep storage while it is cheap and available, because the entire arc of this story is that cheap and available is a closing window.
Families looking for a straightforward place to start can visit Heaven’s Harvest and use promo code Patriot for 15 percent off long-term storable food. The forecasts may yet soften, the strait may yet reopen, and we should pray they do. But hope is a fine thing to hold and a foolish thing to eat.
