The Truth About American Food Safety

The phrase When it rains, it pours isn’t one you like to see applied to outbreaks of foodborne illness, yet here we are.

The summer started with a diarrhea-causing parasite called Cyclospora cayetanensis , which infested iceberg lettuce.

Then came news of Shiga toxin–producing bacteria in organic frozen berries, and a Salmonella outbreak linked to Whole Foods guacamole that eventually got traced to tainted jalapeños. (Pico de gallo, salsa fresca, and a variety of spicy dips have also been implicated.) Ricotta-style cheese was recalled for Listeria .

Both Salmonella and E. coli were found in products from the aptly named Everything Sprouts.

And 10,000 cases of lightly fried tofu were flagged for potential contamination with printing ink.

This flood of food-contamination events comes at just the time when our systems to prevent such outbreaks may be hobbled.

Since last year, three cyclospora-research projects at the Department of Agriculture have lost either their funding or staffing , the CDC team that tracks the parasite’s genetics has nearly disappeared , and experienced government employees responsible for food safety have left their job or been fired.

The bureaucracy is crumbling, and the produce aisle is a mess.

But let’s be fair: The status quo on foodborne illness was never very good.

According to 2019 estimates from the CDC, Americans suffer (sometimes unaware) through at least 9.9 million bouts of foodborne illness each year; more than 50,000 people end up in the hospital, and about 1,000 die.

Depending on how you measure outbreak numbers—whether by FDA investigations into foodborne illnesses, for instance, or by the number of food-product recalls—the 2026 statistics have been pretty much in line with recent history.

How quickly we forget the Salmonella -dusted cucumbers of summer 2024 that sickened more than 500 souls.

Or the cantaloupes that killed half a dozen people in 2023.

Occasional salad-based catastrophes have been the norm for many years.