I admit to having trouble contributing my thoughts to this month’s newsletter. The topics I had planned to discuss—centered on encouragement in the face of challenge—felt trite considering what is happening locally, to our neighbors; nationally, to our friends and colleagues; and internationally, to people with whom we share a common bond. I considered focusing purely on ColoradoSPH—offering updates on our many strengths and plans for the year ahead—or leaning into a more philosophical reflection, mixed with worry and calls for action. I hope I have struck the right balance for this moment.
Because public health touches nearly every aspect of life—from the natural environment to how we care for ourselves and one another—our profession is inevitably swept up in politics, despite our deep commitment to facts, scientific evidence, and data. There is never a time when we are not bumping up against, or flowing with, policies that either strengthen or undermine public health. Often, we experience both. Where does that leave us today, when trust in public health is low and institutions once viewed as beacons of scientific integrity are called into question?
I believe the need for the values and culture of public health has never been greater. Values such as dignity, prevention, collective responsibility, compassion, and a belief that everyone deserves the opportunity to live a healthy life. What we do as public health leaders—educators, researchers, practitioners, and partners—matters. It helps make the world safer, more stable, and more capable of helping people thrive.
History reminds us that culture change precedes policy and social change. Events, both large and small, accumulate over time and shape what becomes possible. I am probably in the minority of people who do not believe that COVID and the public health response alone sit at the crux of where we find ourselves today. Instead, I believe the cultural path we were on long before COVID largely dictated our response and accelerated us to this moment. In that sense, I do not see public health at a crossroads. Rather, I see our culture, values, and established facts, at a crossroads.
We teach and practice the principles and methods of public health. We research ways to improve life and offer pathways to health and wellbeing. The results are educational attainment, workforce opportunity, and economic mobility. In many ways, we are fortunate. Public health is a profession with purpose and meaning. It gives us faith in a better future. While public health is not the only profession that offers such meaning, it is a vital one because it strengthens bonds between people. At a time when many feel disconnected, uncertain, or even afraid, those of us in public health have a north star.
By promoting public health and extending these principles into new partnerships and spaces, we are not just improving health outcomes. We are helping to repair cultural norms that have been weakened: care for one another, respect for evidence, and a sense of shared responsibility.
At ColoradoSPH, I see this every day. When funding landscapes shifted, our school was nimble. We refocused our priorities without compromising scientific rigor or quality. I see it in our deep commitment to community, collaborating with people from all walks of life and valuing lived experience alongside academic expertise. And I see it in our faculty and staff, who are so often the most cheerful and optimistic voices in meetings or other school gatherings. These moments may seem small, but they reveal a culture rooted in possibility.
Change the culture, and changes in policy and politics will follow. This is an enormous undertaking, but it is also deeply personal. Each of us has a role.
Several months ago, I wrote about my father serving as a medic in World War II. He witnessed the worst of humanity and wore a Red Cross armband for protection. Like many of his generation, he rarely spoke about the war. When I once asked what got him through it, he said his role was to lessen suffering, not make it worse. He saved lives instead of taking them. He treated U.S. infantrymen and pulled men wearing enemy uniforms off the battlefield. Such quiet power. I do not know whether the Red Cross armband saved him in combat, but I do know it safeguarded his soul.
Our work offers similar purposes at a time of deep divisiveness and unrest. We may no longer be able to communicate public health guidance primarily through large, centralized, trusted government channels. We may need to focus more intentionally on the people in front of us—listening, building relationships, partnering locally, and meeting communities where they are. One person, one classroom, one neighborhood, one community, at a time. This may be slow work, but it couldn’t be more important. And it is how trust and confidence is rebuilt.
I deeply enjoy walking and running with my dog, Sam. Sometimes we go out at night and marvel at the stars, and I remind myself that I am seeing light that burst into being long ago. Let us be the light that bursts forward now, so that the future looks different from today. If we can help people feel more certain, less alone, and less afraid, they are better able to take action and respond to the stresses they face.
I hope you are well and looking forward to new opportunities to continue your work and contribute to the culture of public health. The nimbleness of our school, our profession, and our people will guide us toward new methods, new partnerships, and a renewed sense of shared purpose—one that reflects public health not diminished, but elevated.