Recently, Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s legal counsel filed a petition with the U.S. Food and Drug Administration seeking the revocation of the polio vaccine’s approval. Opposing polio vaccination is akin to advocating for the removal of essential sanitation infrastructure. Halting polio vaccination would reinstate a horrifying reality of widespread death, disease, and disability.
As a doctor, I was familiar with polio’s short and long-term consequences, including the devastating, lifelong paralysis. However, while researching the history of the fight against polio, these accounts became profoundly personal. Many interviewees recounted their parents’ overwhelming relief upon learning of the 1955 polio vaccine. This response underscores the vaccine’s remarkable success in eradicating polio in the U.S., cementing its status as one of the 20th century’s most significant medical achievements.
Today, relatively few individuals bear the visible, long-term effects of infectious diseases. Smallpox and polio, largely eradicated in the U.S. through vaccination, are notable exceptions. Before the smallpox vaccine, facial and bodily scarring was common among survivors. Pre-polio vaccine generations remember children returning to school in leg braces, crutches, or wheelchairs—a stark reminder of a disease’s ability to permanently alter lives.
I’ve spoken with numerous polio survivors, including 81-year-old Ina Pinkney. Diagnosed at 18 months, Pinkney, a successful restaurateur, navigated her career with a limp and balance concerns due to a leg length discrepancy. For nearly eight decades, she’s managed the lingering effects of polio, including post-polio syndrome, now requiring a wheelchair or scooter.
A documentary by Danish polio survivor Niels Frandsen, “The Epidemic: I don’t remember anything, but I’ll never forget,” captures this experience. Frandsen’s poignant title reflects the reality for many who contracted polio too young to remember the initial illness but whose lives remain profoundly affected by paralysis.
Certainly, other infections leave invisible scars. Mumps can cause sterility and hearing loss; streptococcal infections can damage heart valves, as depicted in Little Women; and long COVID is characterized by fatigue and cognitive impairment. The challenge with invisible illnesses is the lack of constant societal reminders of their dangers.
Vaccine hesitancy and denial are multifaceted. However, our success against infectious diseases has contributed to the problem. The complacency resulting from the absence of visible consequences has enabled individuals like Siri to advocate for the revocation of the polio vaccine. I’m thankful smallpox was eradicated long before individuals like Siri and Kennedy could interfere with public health measures.
We need more than just prominent figures speaking out. Many polio survivors reside in the U.S., but their advanced age diminishes their visibility. We must amplify their voices and experiences.
Beyond survivors, countless individuals have been affected by polio: the loss of a parent, a relative confined to a wheelchair, or a child who never returned from the hospital. These stories, relegated to personal archives due to vaccine success, must be shared to counter the denial of polio’s devastating consequences. Failure to do so risks a future generation facing a preventable, and highly visible, wave of disability.