
I read Fast Food Nation before it was a book. Eric and I have known each other a long time, and we talked through parts of Food, Inc. before it was filmed. He has been making the same argument for twenty-five years — that the structure of the meat industry decides who gets sick — and he has been right about it longer than almost anyone writing today. His September 7 guest essay in the New York Times, “Why Did Trump Order Up 660 Million Pounds of Mystery Meat?”, is worth your time.
Five days ago, I wrote about his piece in The Atlantic and turned it into a list of three fights worth having right now — Cyclospora and the traceability rule, botulism testing in infant formula, and Salmonella in chicken. Here is a fourth, and it turns out to be the same fight.
What follows is not a disagreement with Eric. It is the other half. His piece is about labeling, concentration, and how the decision got made. Mine is about the pathogen.
What is actually coming in
The proclamation signed in late August temporarily expands the tariff-rate quota for lean beef trimmings by 300,000 metric tons — about 660 million pounds. The window runs 90 days beginning September 1, capped at 100,000 tons per month, and the effect is to waive the 26.4 percent out-of-quota tariff. Ground beef averaged $6.89 a pound in July.
Eric is right that these are not rib-eyes. They are trimmings — the raw material of hamburger. And that single word is the whole food safety story.
Trimmings are not a detail
E. coli O157:H7 lives in cattle manure and gets onto meat during hide removal. It ends up on the outside surfaces of the carcass, which is exactly what lean trim is. Trim is the highest-risk raw beef component there is, and the entire federal architecture built after 1994 exists because of it: adulterant status for O157 and, later, for six non-O157 serotypes; N-60 excision sampling of trim lots; test-and-hold; and recordkeeping that lets an investigator trace a grinder’s source lots backward.
That architecture reaches imports. FSIS runs a dedicated sampling program for imported beef manufacturing trimmings (MT51), and since February 1, 2023 those samples are analyzed for O157:H7 plus O26, O45, O103, O111, O121 and O145, with Salmonella co-analysis.
I spent from the 1993 Jack in the Box outbreak to the 2002 ConAgra recall doing little else. Hamburger E. colicases are now close to zero in my practice — it is the best thing that has happened in food safety in my lifetime. That did not happen because cattle got cleaner. It happened because the trim gets tested, the lot gets held, and somebody keeps the records.
The one time we actually measured
In March 2017, after Brazilian federal police raided meatpacking plants over allegations that inspectors were being bribed, FSIS put 100 percent reinspection on all Brazilian meat arriving here. The results are public. FSIS refused entry to 11 percent of Brazilian fresh beef — against roughly 1 percent for shipments from the rest of the world — turning back 106 lots and about 1.9 million pounds for public health, sanitary and animal health violations. On June 22, 2017, USDA suspended fresh beef from Brazil altogether. The agency’s own 2017 audit report lists what was being turned away: pathological lesions in raw beef, contaminated beef, off-condition product.
The suspension was lifted on February 21, 2020, after an on-site equivalence verification audit found corrective actions in place. Since then, Brazilian beef has been subject to routine reinspection at ports of entry, like everyone else’s.
Hold those two facts next to each other. “Equivalent” is a finding about a system, made on paper, at a point in time. Routine port-of-entry reinspection is a statistical sample — it is not an inspection of the box that becomes your dinner. The one time we looked at every lot, the failure rate was about ten times the rest of the world’s. We are now inviting up to 100,000 metric tons a month for three months.
Two regulators, one-week, opposite directions
On September 3, the European Commission’s suspension of Brazilian meat, eggs and honey took effect — Brazil was removed from the authorized list because it could not give sufficient guarantees on antimicrobial use in food animals. The American window opened September 1.
I have nothing to add about the White House meetings Eric describes; that reporting is his and Maggie Haberman’s and Jonathan Swan’s, and you should read it there. My point needs no one’s motive. Two competent regulators looked at the same supply chain in the same week and went in opposite directions. Only one of them was looking at it as a food safety question.
What I would ask USDA to do
Not a ban. Four things, all inside existing authority, none of which requires new legislation:
One. Put trimmings entering under the expanded quota at an increased level of reinspection for the full 90 days, rather than the normal sampling plan.
Two. Publish the results monthly — lots presented, lots sampled, lots refused, by country and by foreign establishment. If the beef is as good as we are told, the numbers will say so.
Three. Publish the date and findings of the most recent on-site equivalence audit for every country eligible to ship raw beef here. Consumers are entitled to know how old the paper is.
Four. Confirm on the record that grinder recordkeeping applies with full force to imported source material, and that a source lot can still be identified when a child ends up in a hospital.
The fourth one is the one that decides cases. Eric writes that these grinders combine pieces of tens of thousands of cattle from multiple countries. I have litigated what that sentence means in practice. The only thread running from a sick child back to a slaughterhouse is the grinder’s source-lot record. Every additional foreign supplier makes that thread thinner and the traceback slower — and an outbreak that takes longer to trace is an outbreak that gets bigger.
Two friendly amendments
First, on labeling. I support the Thune–Booker bill to restore country-of-origin labeling, and I have said for years that its repeal in 2015 was a mistake. But be precise about what it buys. A label tells you which borders the meat crossed. It does not tell you whether the meat carries O157:H7. Provenance and contamination are different problems with different fixes. Pass the bill because consumers deserve an honest market — not because it is a control measure, because it is not one.
Second, on the butcher shop. Eric closes by suggesting readers buy American cuts from a local butcher and have them ground on the premises, or grind at home. I understand the impulse, and it does answer the question of what is in the package. It does not answer the safety question. Freshly ground whole muscle from a good local shop has caused outbreaks; I have handled those cases too. Grinding one animal instead of ten thousand narrows how many people get hurt when something goes wrong. It does not make the meat safe. The one thing that makes a hamburger safe is 160°F, measured with a thermometer. Buy from your butcher if you want to know where your beef came from. Then cook it to 160 anyway.
Every item on the list I published five days ago came down to one sentence: finish the rule and put a test in it. Beef is the one place we already did that, and it is the reason those cases left my practice. It would be a strange thing to spend thirty years building that system and then wave 660 million pounds past it because hamburger got expensive.
Eric has spent a quarter century arguing that the shape of this industry determines who gets sick — that consolidation, speed and anonymity are not abstractions but the mechanism by which a pathogen from one animal reaches a thousand people. Six hundred sixty million pounds of anonymous trimmings, arriving in ninety days, into a system that samples a fraction of what crosses the dock, is the newest proof of the thing he has been saying since before most of us were paying attention.









