When Jon Neal, reporting in the student newspaper at Severna Park High School in Maryland, named the favorite cafeteria offerings in June, the “top 16” list read like a fast-food menu: stuffed-crust pizza, tacos, chicken nuggets, and cookies all made the cut. Few items, if any, would qualify as health food.
(Images by John ‘K’/Flickr Creative Commons)That contrast is at the heart of a new report from the Make America Healthy Again (MAHA) initiative, led by Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F Kennedy Jr. Released in May, the “Make Our Children Healthy Again” report calls for the removal of artificial food dyes, a sharp reduction in ultra-processed foods, and a greater emphasis on fresh, locally grown ingredients in school meals. The stated aim: cut rates of diet-related illness in children by changing what they eat at school.
MAHA’s findings echo concerns long voiced by nutrition advocates, including those behind Michelle Obama’s 2010 “Let’s Move!” campaign. They point to research linking heavily processed foods and synthetic dyes to higher risks of obesity, hyperactivity, and other health problems in children.
But the MAHA report has also drawn criticism — not for its central goal, but for its execution. Independent analysts have flagged factual errors, some driven by a tendency not to upset key constituents, and misquoted studies in the document, warning that its credibility depends on tightening the science. Kennedy’s history of promoting controversial views on vaccines has also made some wary of embracing the program wholesale. Still, public health experts across the political spectrum, including the American Heart Association, agree that getting more fruits, vegetables, and whole grains into school meals is a worthy aim.
The politics surrounding MAHA highlight a broader problem: in today’s climate, even uncontroversial goals risk being pulled into partisan fights. Healthier lunches shouldn’t be one of them, say advocates. “Negative polarization will make you stupid — and maybe also fat,” quipped one observer, arguing that Americans should resist the urge to reject good ideas simply because they come from political opponents.
For students, the debate may seem distant from the lunch line, where taste still rules. Yet the MAHA framework leaves room for compromise. Tacos could feature whole-grain tortillas and fresh salsa; pizza could come with a whole-wheat crust and lower-fat cheese. And farm-to-school programs could help bring fresher, locally sourced options without losing the variety students enjoy.
The report, however, doesn’t offer much in the way of specific policy recommendations for promoting actual solutions. That is, the report spotlights poor diet, ultra‑processed foods, environmental chemicals, sedentariness, stress, and over‑medicalization as key drivers of childhood chronic diseases. Scholars and public health officials welcomed the diagnosis but criticized the report’s weak prescriptions. They took issue not only with the lack of robust policy proposals, but also with glaring errors, as mentioned above.
Furthermore, amid pressure from farm groups fearing tight new limits on pesticide use, MAHA’s food policy softened. The report generally avoids regulatory crackdowns on chemicals in favor of voluntary measures (front‑of‑package labeling, smarter food ingredient research, and discouraging ultra-processed foods). This balancing act typifies the political tightrope MAHA walks: signaling food reform while trying not to alienate key constituencies.
To make up for that, some states have taken action inspired by MAHA’s general framework. West Virginia, Utah, and others have passed laws banning harmful food dyes and restricting SNAP purchases of junk food and soft drinks, for example. However, these measures coexist uneasily with simultaneous federal nutrition cuts — even as MAHA talks nutrition reform, programs like SNAP‑Ed and WIC have been reduced under Trump’s broader fiscal agenda, making implementation patchy and equity fragile.
If the science is solid and the policy is implemented with care, though, MAHA’s school-lunch recommendations could be one of the rare bipartisan wins in Washington: a step toward healthier childhoods that everyone, regardless of party, can support. The challenge will be to focus less on who proposed it and more on the health of the next generation.
To keep the momentum, MAHA must transition from flashy rhetoric to practical, transparent policy. That means repairing the science in the MAHA report, securing stable funding for local and farm-to-school programs, and ensuring low-income students aren’t left behind as reforms unfold. Mixed successes so far — state bans here, symbolic federal draft language there — point to an incomplete but promising blueprint. If both parties can see healthy school meals as a nonpartisan imperative, this could be one of those rare public-health wins we all can celebrate.
