If history has taught black Americans anything, it’s that government health promises should be taken with a raised eyebrow—if not a clenched fist. From Tuskegee to the tap water in Flint, the federal government has repeatedly positioned itself as a benevolent protector of public health, only to later reveal that it was, at best, negligent and, at worst, deceptive.

Now, as a black conservative, I see another red flag waving. It’s called water fluoridation.

For decades, we’ve been told it’s safe. That it prevents cavities. That it’s endorsed by “scientific consensus.” But we’ve heard that tune before—and not just in Tuskegee. We heard it in Flint, where residents, largely poor and black, were told their brown tap water was fine to drink. We heard it when government doctors ran tests on children exposed to lead pipes and played down the neurological damage. We heard it in East St. Louis, where pollution was swept under bureaucratic rugs while cancer rates climbed.

Public health officials like to say these are isolated incidents—aberrations. But what if they aren’t? What if the real pattern is blind faith in centralized authority and an unwillingness to revisit old policies, even as new evidence emerges?

That’s why I support the Trump administration’s decision—through Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.—to pause and reassess federal policy on water fluoridation. Some will scoff at the pairing of Trump and Kennedy. But this isn’t about political tribes. It’s about protecting the American people from a medical-industrial complex that has too often treated us like passive test subjects.

RFK Jr., once seen as a vaccine skeptic and environmental crusader, now holds one of the most powerful public health posts in the country. And in this role, he’s doing something too few leaders are willing to do: question the status quo.

He’s taken seriously the findings of the National Toxicology Program (NTP), which in 2023 released a long-delayed report showing that high fluoride exposure is associated with reduced IQ in children. That’s not a fringe claim. That’s our own federal research arm raising a giant, flashing caution light.

Yet critics act as if any move to reduce or eliminate fluoride in public water is tantamount to anti-science heresy. Why? Because it threatens the sacred cow of centralized control over our health. The same people who say “follow the science” ignore it when the science tells a different story.

But black Americans know better. We remember when science was used to justify sterilization, lobotomies, and syphilis experiments. We remember when public schools pushed toxic curricula in the name of health, and when nutrition guidelines filled our grocery stores with food that made us sicker, not stronger.

And let’s be clear: if fluoride were truly essential for dental health, we’d still have a right to opt in—not be force-fed through our faucets.

Fluoride is not a nutrient. It is a chemical compound added to public water in an attempt to prevent tooth decay. The original trials in the mid-20th century were small and unrepresentative. And the decision to expand it nationwide was made at a time when government officials were still pushing cigarettes as stress-relievers. Think about that.

Today, more than 70% of Americans drink fluoridated water. That’s not informed consent. That’s mass medication.

The irony is this: the very communities the government claims to be helping are the ones being ignored when they push back. Working-class parents, especially in black and Latino communities, are increasingly questioning why their children are struggling with attention, behavior, and development—and they’re told to medicate, not investigate.

RFK Jr. is doing what every good health official should: putting the people before the policy. And President Trump deserves credit for appointing someone who refuses to rubber-stamp the old playbook.

This is not about conspiracies. It’s about responsibility. It’s about saying, “Maybe we got it wrong—and maybe we owe it to the American people, especially those who’ve historically borne the brunt of government mistakes, to get it right this time.”

Some will try to dismiss this as anti-government rhetoric or fearmongering. But I’m not afraid of the government. I just don’t trust it blindly.

As a conservative, I believe in liberty. As a black man, I believe in vigilance. And as a father, I believe I—not some bureaucrat in Washington—should decide what goes into my child’s body.

Tuskegee wasn’t just a tragedy. It was a warning. And it’s a warning we ignore at our peril.

David Sypher Jr. is political writer and commentator with articles in Human Events, The American Spectator, and American thinker. He also runs a Substack newsletter called the Black Conservative Times.

Image: Free image, Pixabay license.