www.montereycountynow.com JANUARY 22-28, 2026 MONTEREY COUNTY WEEKLY 17 The idea that there are health fads that cycle in and out of the medical mainstream, not to mention the popular consciousness, is not new. (Was margarine ever a staple in your kitchen?) This kind of evolving advice is normal in a realm informed by science, because science is ever-developing. Studies done in volume and over years help change medical opinion. The frequency of certain tests and the recommended schedule for certain vaccines has been changing for a long time, well before the Covid-19 pandemic thrust the messaging about health into existential territory. But never before has the whiplash been so blatant and extreme as it has under the administration of President Donald Trump. There are even scientific studies evaluating his messaging about Covid during his first term. The peer-reviewed Journal of Medical Internet Research evaluated 11 of Trump’s tweets about unproven therapies and 65 times he mentioned those therapies— including hydroxychloroquine and chloroquine—in 2020. The conclusion: “Individuals in positions of power can sway public purchasing, resulting in undesired effects when the individuals’ claims are unverified. Public health officials must work to dissuade the use of unproven treatments for Covid-19.” How much sway public health officials hold is certainly open for interpretation. I asked Karen Smith, the public information officer for the County of Monterey Health Department, if information ever has flowed in a straight line. “There was a time that the [U.S. Centers for Disease Control] and [California Department of Public Health] and locals would pretty much be singing off the same sheet of music,” she says. These days, the County follows vaccine guidelines from a new four-state West Coast Health Alliance rather than the feds. “It’s a dance, because everything is in such flux,” Smith says. “It’s very frustrating; I feel sorry for the public.” The flux is not new, Smith says, but the proportion is new as of Covid-19. I don’t think it’s fair to shift the blame entirely onto Trump—health officials also struggled to articulate openly and honestly the nature of their own uncertainty about appropriate interventions, and failed to openly acknowledge they’d been wrong. (Remember that era of spraying down grocery bags?) The U.S. Department of Agriculture and Department of Health and Human Services released new nutritional guidelines this month, essentially flipping the old food pyramid—long since debunked—upside-down. It’s easy to hate the messenger (Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy in particular has advanced many controversial, unsupported and potentially dangerous views) but in this case, the message seems to generally be a good one, with a focus on real food and consuming more fruits and vegetables. There is controversy around its embrace of saturated fats, but it still looks better based on current information than the food pyramid I grew up with. Another communication problem comes in the form of hard prohibitions. I was troubled by a do-not-eat advisory around foraged mushrooms earlier this winter, when I thought more sensible advice would have been to exercise extreme caution. “Because death caps are hard to differentiate and the number [of hospitalizations] was high, all we could say was ‘don’t, just don’t,’” Smith says. For people who, like me (OK, like all of us?), raise an eyebrow at “just don’t” advice, Smith sees a solution. Community health workers became increasingly significant during the pandemic. These are not medical professionals but regular people trained in understanding public health guidelines, what we do and don’t know and able to answer people’s questions about “why.” The concept was so effective that the Health Department launched its own pilot program, Communities Reaching for Equity (CORE), about a year ago, with five community health workers now. “Healthy skepticism is a good thing,” Smith says. “But the toughest thing about public health communications is getting through the mis- and disinformation that’s confusing people.” The hope is that local people who earn trust and have time to talk through people’s hesitations can cut through the confusion. It’s a good model well worth replicating. Sara Rubin is the Weekly’s editor. Reach her at sara@montereycountynow.com. Inverted Pyramid With changing health guidelines, how do you know who to trust? By Sara Rubin CHECKED OUT…As a cephalopod columnist, Squid is acutely aware of the Fourth Estate. It’s the only estate Squid is involved in, since Squid’s tiny undersea lair doesn’t qualify as one. It’s a tough time for local journalism. KION suddenly shuttered its news operations in 2025, and the Salinas Californian and Monterey Herald are shells of their former selves. Squid reads whatever Squid can get Squid’s tentacles on, and that includes the Salinas Valley Business Journal, a publication of the Salinas Valley Chamber of Commerce. The publication is posted online and inserted monthly into the Californian and the Herald. Not only does it have a larger page count, but ironically it often covers issues better than the papers it’s inserted into. Squid read an article in the latest edition recapping 2025. In it, the Chamber wrote: “The demise of the KION news division means the Chamber is more needed than ever to serve as a check and balance for the people against government waste, fraud, abuse and excess.” Chamber CEO Colleen Bailey tells Squid’s colleague that the journal isn’t changing its mission—it has always served as a check and balance. Still, Squid knows the Business Journal inherently has a slant—the Chamber is beholden to its members, i.e. business owners, not the general public. But what’s good for business isn’t necessarily the same as what’s good for the average person. Squid will keep doing Squid’s thing on behalf of average seafaring creatures. LETTER FROM THE FUTURE… Speaking of local media, Squid grabs a hard copy of the Salinas Californian whenever Squid can. Squid started reading a calendar story—“Searching for a winter escape in the Monterey Bay area?”—and thought it seemed a little robotic. Then Squid checked the byline: “Dave DeMille, AI-assisted reporter.” Was DeMille a robot? Squid checked and he seems quite real, listed as the AI-assisted editor for USA Today Co., the Californian’s parent company. (Squid did not hear back from DeMille or AI on his behalf.) A note at the bottom of the story assured Squid that despite the use of AI, “Journalists were involved in every step of the information gathering, review, editing and publishing process.” The ratio of AI to human—in event selection, writing writing the listicle, the observation that Monterey County vineyards are known for Pinot and Chardonnay—is not disclosed. Squid still relies on Squid’s own ink supply to write this column, but got inspired to try using AI to write love letters to Dinah the Doryteuthis. “Oh Dinah, you so fina, I would like to make you minah. Dear Dinah, so slippery, so squishy, so divine—sweet cephalopod, won’t you be mine?” So far, like DeMille, Dinah has not responded. Squid, assisted by AI, will be waiting. THE LOCAL SPIN SQUID FRY THE MISSION OF MONTEREY COUNTY WEEKLY IS TO INSPIRE INDEPENDENT THINKING AND CONSCIOUS ACTION, ETC. “All we could say was, ‘don’t, just don’t.’” SEND SQUID A TIP: squid@montereycountynow.com
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