RFK Jr. And The Disappearing Act Of His Occasional, Random “Good Ideas”

RFK Jr. is best known these days for his full-throttle descent into the anti-science abyss: deranged conspiracy theories about vaccines, unhinged rants about WiFi signals and his bizarre, and dangerous, obsession with fluoride. His stint so far in the Trump cabinet has cemented his status as a crank masquerading, barely, as a public servant. But here's the thing that makes it all the more frustrating: every now and then, he says something that actually makes sense.

Take his critique of the pharmaceutical industry’s chokehold on public discourse. At one point, he proposed banning direct-to-consumer advertising for prescription drugs— something that only two countries on Earth (the U.S. and New Zealand) even allow. That’s not a fringe idea. That’s just common sense. Or when he promotes healthier diets and calls out the sugar-industrial complex for fueling chronic disease— again, perfectly reasonable… even progressive.

So why do these flashes of lucidity disappear the moment they’re spoken? Why do they get zero traction, even among people who might otherwise agree? Even he and his team seem to forget about them moments after he mentions them. Or am I wrong here?

The first answer is the most obvious: the man has obliterated his own credibility. When someone spends years spewing dangerous pseudoscience— blaming vaccines for autism, implying COVID was engineered as a tool of social control— people stop listening, even when he occasionally says something worthwhile. It’s like if Alex Jones started giving TED Talks on urban farming. Who’s going to take that seriously?

RFK Jr. has wrapped himself so tightly in the garb of paranoid populism that his occasional sensible critiques get dismissed out of hand. He’s turned the dial so far past 11 that even his moments of clarity can’t break through the noise he himself has created. Mainstream media— not to mention fringe social media— is always hungry for conflict and spectacle and is more than happy to amplify RFK Jr. when he says something inflammatory or ridiculous. That gets clicks. That sparks outrage. But when he calls for systemic reform— like curbing Big Pharma's ad spending or improving the nation's nutrition— you hear crickets.

This isn’t just media laziness; it’s structural. The outlets with the biggest megaphones are funded by the very corporations RFK Jr. occasionally critiques. CNN and MSNBC don’t run hour-long segments on the need for better food policy— especially not when it comes from someone they’ve already filed under “fringe.” And guess what those prime-time commercial blocks are packed with? Drug ads. RFK Jr. wasn’t wrong to notice that. But his brand is too toxic to get any traction with that message. There’s also a more strategic issue. Kennedy doesn’t really build on his good ideas. He mentions them, sometimes in passing, as part of a broader rant— and then veers back into conspiratorial territory. He doesn't develop policy papers. He doesn't build coalitions around those ideas. Instead, they get tossed into a stew of paranoia, where real concerns (corporate capture, media corruption, environmental degradation) get smothered by fantasy and fear-mongering. In short, he doesn’t treat these good ideas seriously, so no one else does either.

There’s a strange world— an alternate timeline— where RFK Jr. stuck to his environmental roots, challenged corporate power, and pushed for a healthier and more transparent society. Maybe he could have even become a meaningful third-party critic of the establishment from the left. But instead, he chose the rabbit hole. And once you’re down there, even your best ideas can’t breathe. And he’s just disruptive enough to be useful to Trump’s brand, but not corporate-friendly enough to be taken seriously by the actual machinery of the regime. Any idea that threatens the profits of Big Pharma, Big Food, or Big Anything gets immediately smothered by the grown-ups in the room. Remember, Trump himself, despite the populist rhetoric, never met a billionaire or a pharma CEO he didn’t want to hug. It’s not hard to imagine a scene where RFK Jr. floats the idea of banning pharma ads on TV— and someone from Trump’s inner circle gently (or not-so-gently) reminds him that those very same companies are major GOP campaign donors and are major advertisers on Fox News, CNN, and all the other networks they rely on to shape public opinion. The message? “Nice idea, Bobby. Now shut up before you cost us donations— or airtime.” Kennedy, for all his supposed independence, seems to comply. He might fire off the occasional righteous tweet, but you never see him organize or try to legislate around these issues. They vanish—like everything else that doesn’t serve the Trump brand or the corporate dollar.