Keith Poulsen’s jaw dropped when farmers showed him images on their cellphones at the World Dairy Expo in Wisconsin in October. A livestock veterinarian at the University of Wisconsin, Poulsen had seen sick cows before, with their noses dripping and udders slack.
But the scale of the farmers’ efforts to treat the sick cows stunned him. They showed videos of systems they built to hydrate hundreds of cattle at once. In 14-hour shifts, dairy workers pumped gallons of electrolyte-rich fluids into ailing cows through metal tubes inserted into the esophagus.
“It was like watching a field hospital on an active battlefront treating hundreds of wounded soldiers,” he said.
Nearly a year into the first outbreak of the bird flu among cattle, the virus shows no sign of slowing. The U.S. government failed to eliminate the virus on dairy farms when it was confined to a handful of states by quickly identifying infected cows and taking measures to keep their infections from spreading. Now at least 845 herds across 16 states have tested positive.
Experts say they have lost faith in the government’s ability to contain the outbreak.
“We are in a terrible situation and going into a worse situation,” said Angela Rasmussen, a virologist at the University of Saskatchewan in Canada. “I don’t know if the bird flu will become a pandemic, but if it does, we are screwed.”
To understand how the bird flu got out of hand, KFF Health News interviewed nearly 70 government officials, farmers and farmworkers, and researchers with expertise in virology, pandemics, veterinary medicine, and more.
Together with emails obtained from local health departments through public records requests, this investigation revealed key problems, including a deference to the farm industry, eroded public health budgets, neglect for the safety of agriculture workers, and the sluggish pace of federal interventions.
Case in point: The U.S. Department of Agriculture this month announced a federal order to test milk nationwide. Researchers welcomed the news but said it should have happened months ago — before the virus was so entrenched.
“It’s disheartening to see so many of the same failures that emerged during the COVID-19 crisis reemerge,” said Tom Bollyky, director of the Global Health Program at the Council on Foreign Relations.
Far more bird flu damage is inevitable, but the extent of it will be left to the Trump administration and Mother Nature. Already, the USDA has funneled more than $1.7 billion into tamping down the bird flu on poultry farms since 2022, which includes reimbursing farmers who’ve had to cull their flocks, and more than $430 million into combating the bird flu on dairy farms. In coming years, the bird flu may cost billions of dollars more in expenses and losses.
Threat of a pandemic
Dairy industry experts say the virus kills roughly 2 to 5 percent of infected dairy cows and reduces a herd’s milk production by about 20 percent.
Worse, the outbreak poses the threat of a pandemic. More than 60 people in the U.S. have been infected, mainly by cows or poultry, but cases could skyrocket if the virus evolves to spread efficiently from person to person. And the recent news of a person critically ill in Louisiana with the bird flu shows that the virus can be dangerous.
Just a few mutations could allow the bird flu to spread between people. Because viruses mutate within human and animal bodies, each infection is like a pull of a slot machine lever.
“Even if there’s only a 5 percent chance of a bird flu pandemic happening, we’re talking about a pandemic that probably looks like 2020 or worse,” said Tom Peacock, a bird flu researcher at the Pirbright Institute in the United Kingdom, referring to COVID-19. “The U.S. knows the risk but hasn’t done anything to slow this down,” he added.
Beyond the bird flu, the federal government’s handling of the outbreak reveals cracks in the U.S. health security system that would allow other risky new pathogens to take root, too. “This virus may not be the one that takes off,” said Maria Van Kerkhove, director of the emerging diseases group at the World Health Organization. “But this is a real fire exercise right now, and it demonstrates what needs to be improved.”
It may have been a grackle, a goose, or some other wild bird that infected a cow in northern Texas. In February, the state’s dairy farmers took note when cows stopped making milk. They worked alongside veterinarians to figure out why. In less than two months, veterinary researchers identified the highly pathogenic H5N1 bird flu virus as the culprit.
Long listed among pathogens with pandemic potential, the bird flu’s unprecedented spread among cows marked a worrying shift. It had evolved to thrive in animals that are more like people biologically than birds.
After the USDA announced the dairy outbreak on March 25, control shifted from farmers, veterinarians, and local officials to state and federal agencies. Collaboration disintegrated almost immediately.
Milking equipment was a likely source of infection, and there were hints of other possibilities, such as through the air as cows coughed or in droplets on objects, like work boots. But not enough data had been collected to know how exactly it was happening. Many farmers declined to test their herds, despite an announcement of funds to compensate them for lost milk production.
“There is a fear within the dairy farmer community that if they become officially listed as an affected farm, they may lose their milk market,” said Jamie Jonker, chief science officer at the National Milk Producers Federation, an organization that represents dairy farmers. To his knowledge, he added, this hasn’t happened.
Patchy surveillance
In July, the bird flu spread from dairies in Colorado to poultry farms. To contain it, two poultry operations employed about 650 temporary workers — Spanish-speaking immigrants as young as 15 — to cull flocks. Inside hot barns, they caught infected birds, gassed them with carbon dioxide, and disposed of the carcasses. Many did the hazardous job without goggles, face masks, and gloves.
By the time Colorado’s health department asked if workers felt sick, five women and four men had been infected. They all had red, swollen eyes — conjunctivitis — and several had such symptoms as fevers, body aches, and nausea.
State health departments posted online notices offering farms protective gear, but dairy workers in several states told KFF Health News that they had none. They also said they hadn’t been asked to get tested.
Virologists around the world said they were flabbergasted by how poorly the United States was tracking the situation. “You are surrounded by highly pathogenic viruses in the wild and in farm animals,” said Marion Koopmans, head of virology at Erasmus Medical Center in the Netherlands. “If three months from now we are at the start of the pandemic, it is nobody’s surprise.”
Although the bird flu is not yet spreading swiftly between people, a shift in that direction could cause immense suffering. The CDC has repeatedly described the cases among farmworkers this year as mild — they weren’t hospitalized. But that doesn’t mean symptoms are a breeze, or that the virus can’t cause worse.
“It does not look pleasant,” wrote Sean Roberts, an emergency services specialist at the Tulare County, California, health department in an email to colleagues in May. He described photographs of an infected dairy worker in another state: “Apparently, the conjunctivitis that this is causing is not a mild one, but rather ruptured blood vessels and bleeding conjunctiva.”
Over the past 30 years, half of around 900 people diagnosed with bird flu around the world have died. Even if the case fatality rate is much lower for this strain of the bird flu, COVID showed how devastating a 1 percent death rate can be when a virus spreads easily.
Like other cases around the world, the person now hospitalized with the bird flu in Louisiana appears to have gotten the virus directly from birds. After the case was announced, the CDC released a statement saying, “A sporadic case of severe H5N1 bird flu illness in a person is not unexpected.”
‘The cows are more valuable than us’
Local health officials were trying hard to track infections, according to hundreds of emails from county health departments in five states. But their efforts were stymied. Even if farmers reported infected herds to the USDA and agriculture agencies told health departments where the infected cows were, health officials had to rely on farm owners for access.
“The agriculture community has dictated the rules of engagement from the start,” said Michael Osterholm, director of the Center for Infectious Disease Research and Policy at the University of Minnesota. “That was a big mistake.”
Some farmers told health officials not to visit and declined to monitor their employees for signs of sickness. Sending workers to clinics for testing could leave them shorthanded when cattle needed care.
“Producer refuses to send workers to Sunrise [clinic] to get tested since they’re too busy. He has pinkeye, too,” said an email from the Weld, Colorado, health department.
“We know of 386 persons exposed — but we know this is far from the total,” said an email from a public health specialist to officials at Tulare’s health department recounting a call with state health officials. “Employers do not want to run this through worker’s compensation. Workers are hesitant to get tested due to cost.”
Rural health departments are also stretched thin. Organizations that specialize in outreach to farmworkers offered to assist health officials early in the outbreak, but months passed without contracts or funding. During the first years of COVID, lagging government funds for outreach to farmworkers and other historically marginalized groups led to a disproportionate toll of the disease among people of color.
Farmworker advocates also pressed the CDC for money to offset workers’ financial concerns about testing, including paying for medical care, sick leave, and the risk of being fired. This amounted to an offer of $75 each. “Outreach is clearly not a huge priority,” Boggess said. “I hear over and over from workers, ‘The cows are more valuable than us.’”
The USDA has so far put more than $2.1 billion into reimbursing poultry and dairy farmers for losses due to the bird flu and other measures to control the spread on farms. Federal agencies have also put $292 million into developing and stockpiling bird flu vaccines for animals and people. In a controversial decision, the CDC has advised against offering the ones on hand to farmworkers.
“If you want to keep this from becoming a human pandemic, you focus on protecting farmworkers, since that’s the most likely way that this will enter the human population,” said Peg Seminario, an occupational health researcher in Bethesda, Maryland. “The fact that this isn’t happening drives me crazy.”
Change may instead need to start from the bottom up — on dairy farms, still the most common source of human infections, said Poulsen. He noticed a shift in attitudes among farmers at the Dairy Expo: “They’re starting to say, ‘How do I save my dairy for the next generation?’ They recognize how severe this is, and that it’s not just going away.”
This article first appeared on KFF Health News.