Trump vs. Tylenol: Psychology, Politics, and the “Social Pain” Factor
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| Trump held a press conference claiming that taking Tylenol during pregnancy raises the risk of autism. (📷:empowervmedia) | 
In a highly publicised September 22, 2025 news conference, US President Donald Trump warned pregnant women against using acetaminophen (the active ingredient in Tylenol®), claiming it “can be associated with a very increased risk of autism” if taken during pregnancy. Medical experts and agencies immediately pushed back. Leading paediatricians and health organisations pointed out that extensive research finds no proven link between acetaminophen and autism. For example, the maker of Tylenol (Kenvue) and regulators in the US, UK and elsewhere affirmed that when used as directed, acetaminophen is widely considered safe. Physicians warned that Trump’s claims echoed long-debunked myths and could spread fear, and that continuing to circulate such misinformation and disinformation can be dangerous. Similarly, autism researchers cautioned that alarmist claims could “cause unnecessary fear” among parents and stigmatise individuals with autism.
The Trump administration’s message came through a joint event with Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a prominent vaccine sceptic. Together they announced cautious steps (like label changes) on acetaminophen and new research, but the president’s rhetoric went further. He compared autism rates in groups like the Amish, whom he said have “virtually no autism… because they don’t take all of this junk” (referring to vaccines and medications). This claim (tying complex health outcomes to simple lifestyle differences) was immediately challenged by experts. For instance, doctors studying Amish communities confirmed that autism does exist there (though under-diagnosed) and that Amish families do use Tylenol for pain relief.
The “Social Analgesic”
Beyond the political drama, there is a surprising scientific angle: acetaminophen does more than ease headaches (it also has measurable effects on emotions and social feeling). In psychology research, scholars have dubbed this phenomenon a form of “social analgesia”. Studies have found that people who regularly take acetaminophen report less social pain in situations of rejection or exclusion. For example, one experiment had participants take acetaminophen daily for weeks and tracked their mood; those on the drug consistently reported feeling less hurt by social slights than those on placebo. Neuroimaging confirmed this effect: brain regions involved in the distress of social rejection (like the anterior cingulate and insula) showed reduced activation in the acetaminophen group during a simulated exclusion task. In other words, acetaminophen literally blunts the sting of social pain in the brain.
Even more striking, other research suggests acetaminophen can dull empathy. In two clever studies, participants who took a dose of acetaminophen were less emotionally affected when reading about others’ positive or painful experiences. Mischkowski, Crocker, and Way (2016) found that volunteers given acetaminophen felt significantly less personal distress when hearing about someone else in pain, compared to those on placebo. In 2019, they found that Tylenol reduced the pleasure and empathic joy people normally feel when others experience good fortune. These results imply that acetaminophen does not discriminate between physical and emotional pain; it generally blunts emotional sensitivity.
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| (📷:empowervmedia) | 
Taken together, this evidence shows that acetaminophen acts on the brain’s pain circuitry in a broad way. It can dampen the hurt of social rejection, anxiety, and even the kind of sympathetic emotions that drive social bonding. The takeaway is intuitive: acetaminophen might not just cure your headache; it can also make psychological pains a little easier to bear.
Political Strategy and Emotional Mobilisation
Why would Trump focus on a drug that many people use to soften pain? One possibility is that this message plays into broader political strategies. Extremist or populist leaders often thrive on keeping supporters in a state of fear or anger. By repeatedly highlighting threats (real or imagined), they can unify their base around a common cause or enemy. If acetaminophen does indeed reduce emotional distress, then in a sense it could dull the grievances that such politicians exploit. From this angle, attacking Tylenol might serve to remove an emotional “cushion” for the public. As a health expert told reporters, Trump’s rhetoric may be less about science and more about framing a narrative: by saying “Tylenol is not good”, he plants anxiety and makes his followers feel protective of their children’s safety. In short, the policy stunt generates more political drama than medical wisdom.
At the same time, aligning with anti-vaccine activists and conspiracy-minded audiences could have motivated the timing. Trump’s mention of RFK Jr. (who had promised an autism explanation) indicates this was meant to energise a coalition of followers who distrust official health guidance. By vilifying a mainstream medicine like Tylenol, Trump reinforces his image as a truth-teller uncovering a hidden danger. This tactic can increase group cohesion; when people fear a common threat, they often rally around the leaders who promise to protect them. In practical terms, the fear and social anxiety stirred by Trump’s warning may serve political ends. (By contrast, if pregnant women did follow his advice and stop taking acetaminophen, they might endure more pain or fever, ironically heightening stress without any proven benefit.)
Critics also note a classic distraction effect: sensational health claims can dominate the news cycle, drawing attention away from other issues. In Trump’s case, fixating media on Tylenol and autism for days might drown out coverage of policy failures or controversies. This “agitation and mobilisation” strategy is well documented in psychology and political science: fear and outrage are powerful motivators that can swing public opinion, at least temporarily.
Disinformation and Authoritarian Tactics
Viewed through a political lens, Trump’s Tylenol stunt fits a pattern of misinformation that scholars associate with authoritarian rhetoric. Analysts observe that demagogues often “distort reality by spreading propaganda, conspiracy theories, and disinformation” as a means of control. In reference to the Mueller Report, for example, Dr. Jennifer Mercieca compares Trump’s communication style to tactics of historical authoritarians: overwhelming the news with sensational claims, accusing opponents of being traitors or liars, and pushing narratives not grounded in evidence. Trump calling the media “fake news” and labelling critics as enemies of the people are familiar examples. His Tylenol claim can be seen in the same light; it’s a sweeping health scare unsupported by data, presented as if experts are hiding the “truth”.
Indeed, health experts and fact-checkers described the Tylenol warnings as misinformation. The White House and health officials eventually issued calmer messages acknowledging uncertainty, but Trump’s own statements were much stronger and categorical. By warning “don’t take Tylenol” in stark terms, he amplified distrust: making people second-guess standard medical advice. This aligns with a known disinformation technique: sow doubt in expertise to make followers more reliant on the speaker’s guidance. Some experts argue that Trump’s focus on Tylenol was a textbook case of political fear-mongering rather than public health policy.
At the root, whether one believes his theory or not, calling Tylenol dangerous taps into emotions rather than logic. It scapegoats a convenient target (pharmaceutical products) for a complex issue (rising autism diagnoses), thus channelling frustration toward pharmaceutical companies and “elites”. By framing the debate as “us” (concerned parents) versus “them” (Big Pharma, the media, distant scientists), Trump activated tribal feelings. Research on political psychology shows that when people feel threatened (even by rumours), they tend to double down on group identity and support leaders who promise protection. Interestingly, if acetaminophen truly reduces personal discomfort, then warnings to avoid it could paradoxically keep social tensions higher, which may help maintain a sense of crisis that benefits authoritarian figures.
From a public health perspective, the episode underscores the conflict between science and sensationalism. Acetaminophen is one of the most studied and widely used drugs globally, including in pregnancy, because other options (like aspirin or ibuprofen) carry known risks. Major health bodies around the world clarified that acetaminophen remains the recommended fever-pain reducer for pregnant people. Nevertheless, Trump’s warnings injected anxiety into millions of households. The broader lesson is that medical guidance should follow evidence. The evidence on acetaminophen and autism is mixed at best: some studies suggest a very slight association, but these findings are inconsistent and do not establish causality. In contrast, the neurological evidence on acetaminophen’s emotional effects is robust. It seems ironic that a drug which can alleviate physical and social pain is being blamed for causing a disorder of the brain.
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| If acetaminophen does indeed reduce emotional distress, then in a sense it could dull the grievances that such politicians exploit. (📷:wikipedia) | 
The controversy also highlights the power of messaging. Bold, unfounded claims can travel far on social media and in news headlines, often outrunning the more measured clarifications from scientists. Experts and fact-checkers advise the population to critically evaluate health claims (especially when they come with strong political overtones), and to trust peer-reviewed science and official guidance over viral social media posts or political statements.
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