
Saturday, August 15, 2026
This is my 6th Weekend Wrap-Up. Last Saturday this column was called Two People Died, the Federal Count Tripled Without Anyone New Getting Sick, and One Summer Passed Thirty Years of Cyclospora History. This week the government talked, and then its own numbers answered. On Tuesday the acting Commissioner of Food and Drugs told a business news audience that this country has the safest food supply in the world. On Thursday night his agency raised its own outbreak from 6,358 people to 9,481, from fifteen states to seventeen, and from 278 hospitalizations to 398. The same government said both things in the same week.
Tuesday was the day the administration decided this was over. Kyle Diamantas, the acting Commissioner, said in a Tuesday interview that we have the safest food supply in the world, that Americans should feel confident eating fresh produce including leafy greens, that his agency remains confident all iceberg lettuce related to the outbreak has been effectively removed from the market, and that the origin was found in record time on the strength of increased border testing. A second account of the same interview has him urging full confidence in the food supply in this country. The Department of Health and Human Services posted the same day that Cyclospora was contained and American food was safe. And a senior adviser at that same department had already told his followers the outbreak is manufactured hysteria, funded by junk food companies to frighten people off real food. One department, one Tuesday, three messages, and not one of them contains a number.
The same Tuesday, the confirmed count rose by a third. CDC’s weekly surveillance update put laboratory-confirmed, domestically acquired cases at 13,895, up 3,427 in seven days, with at least another 10,455 still needing investigation. That is 24,350 people in the federal count alone. National hospitalizations went from 517 to 740. Forty-seven states plus the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico are reporting. Read the jump carefully, because it is not what it looks like: the unconfirmed pool fell while the confirmed number rose, so most of those 3,427 are people already in the count whose laboratory work finally cleared, not 3,427 who got sick last week. CDC now prints its own comparison too, which saves me the arithmetic. The entire May-through-August season last year was 1,180 cases. I wrote that night that what this outbreak needs is leadership, not cheerleaders.
Then on Thursday night the federal outbreak grew by half. FDA’s advisory now reads 9,481 illnesses, 398 hospitalizations, two deaths and seventeen states, with Maine and Massachusetts added. Eight days earlier the same page said 6,358, 278 and fifteen. That is 3,123 more people and 120 more hospitalizations in one update, published thirty-six hours after the record-time remark. CDC’s investigation page carries the identical figures, and that is worth saying out loud, because the two agencies have not always been aligned this summer and this week they were. Credit where it is due. The web address changed for the fourth time, five-state to nine-state to fifteen-state to multistate. FDA has stopped putting a number in the URL, which is sensible, and which also means every link written before Thursday now points at a page the agency has abandoned.
Effectively removed from the market is true, and it is not the same sentence as over. The recall was July 17. CDC’s confirmed count that week was around 1,600. It is 13,895 now. Pulling product off a shelf ends the exposure. It does not end the outbreak, and it does not end the counting, because this parasite takes about a week to make a person sick and the laboratory takes six more weeks to say so. FDA’s page puts the last illness onset on August 3. That edge is a description of the reporting lag, not a finding about when people stopped getting sick, and it will move.
Record time deserves its own paragraph. The first illnesses in this outbreak began in the middle of May. The first federal advisory came out on July 16. And FDA investigators walked into the Taylor Farms de Mexico plant at Doctor Mora on August 13 — the first FDA inspector inside that building since 2019, arriving at a facility the company had shut down on July 18. They are sampling a plant that has been idle for twenty-six days, four weeks after the product they are looking for left it. CNN reported this month that in the first half of this year, five of the company’s more than 168,000 produce shipments out of Mexico were physically inspected at the border. None of that is the fault of the people who went in August.
The lettuce went to Mexico too, and the distribution list finally stopped contradicting itself.FDA’s new advisory says customer information provided by the firm shows recalled product was sold to consumers in Mexico. Whether anyone told those consumers, and whether there are Mexican cases from these lots, nobody has said. The confirmed distribution list also grew from twenty-seven states to thirty-one, adding Maine, New York, Nebraska, Virginia and West Virginia, which closes a contradiction I have been writing about since August 8 — Taylor Farms’ own information hub listed twenty-seven states in one section and twenty-eight in another, and FDA’s advisory had the identical split in the same week.
Fourteen states received confirmed distribution of the recalled lettuce and have no attributed cases at all. Alabama, Connecticut, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Maryland, Mississippi, New Jersey, New York, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia and Wisconsin. Twelve of the fourteen publish a count, and those twelve total 2,174 cases this season. Mississippi and South Carolina publish nothing at all. I am not saying those 2,174 people ate this lettuce. I am saying that fourteen states got the product, at least 2,174 of their residents have cyclosporiasis, and so far ,as I can find, nobody has publicly asked whether any of them are connected.
Add the fifty states up and the floor is 29,920, eighty short of thirty thousand. Thirteen state health departments publish hospitalization figures and those total 734, against CDC’s national 740 — a number built by hand off state dashboards landing within six of the federal count, which is either a coincidence or a sign the method works.
Thirteen letters from Congress and not one published answer. I counted them again on Friday. The questions are good questions and the deadlines keep passing. Meanwhile eleven consumer, public health and labor groups wrote to the four congressional leaders asking them to rescind the traceability rider, and the half of that rider nobody is discussing is that Section 780 does not merely freeze the money. It also directs FDA to find additional flexibilities for the lot-level tracking requirement, which is Congress prodding the agency to give up the one piece of the rule that would have made this recall answerable. I wrote about it Thursday, and about the fact that FDA’s own recall file already shows where 236,192 cases of this lettuce went — public, and unfindable, which is not the same as disclosed.
Nobody is required to answer any of those letters, and that is the design flaw Frank Yiannas has been trying to fix. He has spent the better part of a year arguing for an independent National Foodborne Outbreak Investigation Board on the model of the National Transportation Safety Board. I wrote on Wednesday night that the airplane comparison is the weakest part of a case that does not need it, and that one file makes the argument by itself. In August 2013, FDA investigators spent eight days inside this same Taylor Farms plant at Doctor Mora, covered the facility and five ranches, and collected roughly 835 samples. Nothing came back positive. What they found, they found by reading the company’s own paperwork — a fecal coliform result off drip irrigation tape that had triggered no corrective action because it sat just under the firm’s own action level, and prescriptions written for harvest crews that included a drug used against this parasite, dispensed during the outbreak window. Then they wrote a recommendation: that the firm determine whether Cyclospora is a reasonably likely hazard in that growing region and re-evaluate the wash step. Nothing happened to it. It had no addressee, nothing set a clock on it, and no database tracked whether it was ever answered. The only real produce surveillance this country has ever had, the Microbiological Data Program, was zeroed out of the budget and shut down at the end of 2012, seven months before those investigators walked in. Thirteen years later: same region, same plant, same parasite, same commodity. What makes the transportation board work is not the team that flies to the crash site. It is the ninety-day clock that starts when a recommendation is issued, the permanent public database that tracks it until somebody answers, and the annual list that names the agency that has not.
One more, and it is the good news. On Friday I wrote that suing companies over E. coli in hamburger used to be a large part of this firm’s business and is not anymore. That did not happen because anyone gave a speech about the safest food supply in the world. It happened because a rule changed, a test became mandatory, and an industry was made to do something it did not want to do. It is the whole argument for changing this one.
That’s the week — an acting Commissioner calling this the safest food supply in the world, a department calling the outbreak contained, a senior adviser calling it hysteria, and that same government’s own outbreak growing by half in a single evening. The season CDC defines closes on August 31. That is sixteen days. Nobody at the top has to say the number out loud. The number is going to say itself. Check back next Saturday.
About Bill Marler
William “Bill” Marler has spent more than thirty years as a food safety lawyer and advocate—work that began with the 1993 Jack in the Box E. coli outbreak and has never really stopped since. In the years that followed, he has represented victims in nearly every major foodborne illness outbreak in the United States. That case, and the movement it launched, is the subject of the book “Poisoned” and the Emmy Award–winning Netflix documentary of the same name. Bill’s work has been profiled in The New Yorker (“A Bug in the System”), the Seattle Times (“30 years after the deadly E. coli outbreak, a Seattle attorney still fights for food safety”), the Washington Post (“He helped make burgers safer. Now he’s fighting food poisoning again”), and many others.
Dozens of times a year, Bill speaks to industry, regulators, and universities across the United States, Canada, Europe, Africa, China, and Australia about a simple idea: outbreaks are preventable. He has testified before Congress on the Food Safety Modernization Act and teaches food safety at institutions including the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health. He writes regularly about food litigation and food safety at Marler Blog, and in 2009 he founded Food Safety News, which he continues to publish.










