For over twenty years, I have dedicated my work to public health. When I began, conversations about prevention were nearly nonexistent—sick care was the dominant framework. Prevention, or the idea that we could impact our own health through lifestyle and environmental changes, was dismissed as unrealistic.

Fast forward to today, and we finally see discussions about lifestyle, social determinants of health, and environmental factors gaining traction. While this shift is exciting, it’s equally alarming to see these concepts reduced to soundbites wielded by individuals without the expertise or credentials to back their assertions.

Public health is not a place for half-informed opinions or unqualified decision-making. Life-and-death decisions must be informed by science, education, and experience—not personal agendas or charisma.

When I started my journey, I had no special qualifications—just a deep desire to envision a life where cancer wasn’t a foregone conclusion–an expected stage of life. I was a liberal arts graduate from Wayne State University, learning as I went. My early career experience—hosting tables in restaurants—was valuable but didn’t make me qualified to practice medicine, pilot planes, or engineer public health policies.

What I did know, however, was the importance of learning from experts—leaders in science, researchers at the National Cancer Institute, and educators from esteemed universities and medical schools. Their decades of education and research shaped the evidence-based foundation for the prevention work we pursued.

Our organization’s role wasn’t to invent science but to translate it into clear, actionable steps for the public—a critical bridge in the conversation about prevention under the guidance of experts without special interest or financial gain. Public health thrives on this collaboration of expertise, communication, and evidence-based practice.

Yet, it’s easy to mistake well-branded personalities for authorities in today’s landscape. Just because someone uses scientific terminology wrapped in political or personal motivations doesn’t mean their conclusions are valid—or safe. Public health is not a yoga retreat or a motivational workshop (both have their place), and it certainly isn’t served by uninformed voices attempting to guide the public.

The truth is that science cannot be nuanced for convenience or used to advance a personal agenda. It’s not about what we wish to be true; it’s about what research and evidence prove to be true. I may be passionate about public health, but my role is to amplify the voices of those who have spent years researching, practicing, and honing their expertise in the field—not to replace them.

Turning the tide in public health requires more than ambition or branding—it demands rigorous evidence, qualified experts, and an understanding of the complexities that make up the “whole pie” of health. One solution that works for one individual may harm another, and only experts with the right credentials and research background can navigate those nuances responsibly.

I urge us all to look past branding and ask the necessary questions: What are their credentials? What science supports their claims? Public health, cancer prevention, and chronic disease management require more than wishful thinking—they require science, collaboration, and expertise.

We must demand nothing less.