Position Paper #1: The Tylenol Crisis of 2025

When people hear “Tylenol crisis,” most think of the 1982 cyanide poisoning case, where Johnson & Johnson became the textbook example of crisis management by recalling millions of bottles and creating tamper-proof packaging. Fast forward to 2025, and Tylenol is in the headlines again — but for a very different reason. Instead of tampering, the concern is whether acetaminophen (the active ingredient in Tylenol) is linked to autism and ADHD when used during pregnancy. This debate has been around in the scientific world for years, but it exploded into the mainstream earlier this week after a mix of political comments, regulatory actions, and social media buzz.

The spark came on Monday, September 22, when President Trump publicly stated that acetaminophen use during pregnancy may be tied to autism. While researchers have studied this possibility for over a decade, the evidence has been mixed and far from conclusive. Some studies suggest an association, while others argue the link disappears when you control for other factors. What had mostly been an academic debate suddenly became headline news because the President himself amplified it.

Almost immediately after, the FDA announced that it would begin reviewing whether warning labels on acetaminophen should be updated to reflect possible risks during pregnancy. The agency was careful with its wording, emphasizing that this was not proof of harm but simply a precautionary review. Still, the announcement carried weight. For everyday consumers, “FDA label change” often translates to “this drug might not be safe,” regardless of the actual scientific nuance.

Then social media did what social media always does — it took a complicated issue and turned it into a trending topic. Hashtags like #TylenolAutism spread quickly, TikTok videos with worried parents went viral, and memes mocking the situation also gained traction. The online conversation left many pregnant women feeling anxious and confused. Should they stop using Tylenol for pain and fever, or trust what doctors have always recommended?

Adding fuel to the fire, lawsuits against Kenvue were already in motion. Plaintiffs have been suing the company for years, claiming prenatal Tylenol exposure caused autism or ADHD in their children. Many of these cases had been dismissed by federal judges for lack of strong scientific evidence. But once the FDA said it would review the labels, lawyers seized on the opportunity to argue their claims had more validity than before.

In short, the combination of a presidential statement, FDA involvement, and social media created the perfect storm of negative press.

Kenvue’s strategy was reactive. They released statements emphasizing that acetaminophen is safe when used as directed, and that medical organizations still recommend it for pregnant women. While this is factually true, the timing made the company look like it was on the defensive. Instead of getting ahead of the story, Kenvue waited for the crisis to explode before speaking up. This is a big contrast to Johnson & Johnson’s proactive recall in 1982, which set the standard for corporate transparency.

The White House was proactive, but in a way that added more heat than clarity. By publicly connecting Tylenol and autism, the President pushed the conversation forward before the science was settled. This made the issue more politically charged and left scientists scrambling to catch up with messaging. In other words, it was proactive politically but not necessarily constructive from a public health standpoint.

The FDA was also proactive, though its approach was conventional. By announcing a label review, the agency wanted to show it was being cautious and protecting consumers. However, it may have underestimated how the public would interpret this step. Even though the FDA said it was not claiming a proven risk, the announcement still created the impression of danger in the public’s mind.

The response from the medical community was more indecisive. Groups like the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists stressed that women should not panic or suddenly stop using Tylenol, since untreated pain or fever during pregnancy can also be risky. Other experts leaned more cautious, suggesting that pregnant women use the drug only when absolutely necessary. These mixed messages created more confusion for the public, making it hard to know who to trust.

So far, the responses have not been successful. None of the main stakeholders have successfully calmed the public's concerns. Social media continues to spread mixed messages, with some users warning that Tylenol is “dangerous” and others dismissing the controversy as overblown. Pregnant women are caught in the middle, uncertain about whether to follow old medical advice or react to new headlines. Kenvue’s stock dropped sharply after the news broke, showing that investors were worried about long-term reputational and financial damage. While there has been some recovery, the irregularity shows that the crisis is not yet under control. The FDA’s review gave new life to lawsuits that were previously dismissed. Even if the courts remain skeptical, the lawsuits themselves keep the negative press cycle alive. Overall, the strategies so far have been more about reacting to damage than preventing it. Compared to the decisive actions taken in 1982, the 2025 responses feel scattered and less effective.

Looking back at 1982 helps highlight why the current crisis feels so much messier. In 1982, Johnson & Johnson responded quickly and boldly. They recalled products nationwide, worked closely with law enforcement, and introduced tamper-proof packaging that changed the entire industry. Their actions were proactive, transparent, and gave consumers a clear reason to trust the brand again. In 2025, Kenvue doesn’t have a clear action to take. The controversy is based on scientific uncertainty rather than a product defect or crime. There’s no recall or packaging change that would “fix” the issue. The best the company can do is communicate clearly, fund independent research, and work with regulators and doctors to give the public consistent guidance. Unfortunately, their slow, reactive approach has not been enough to counteract the political noise and viral social media trends.

The 2025 Tylenol crisis shows how different crisis communication looks in the age of social media and political amplification. The negative press and online blowback were triggered by a combination of a high-profile political statement, FDA involvement, and viral reactions on platforms like TikTok and X. Kenvue’s responses have been mostly reactive, the government’s were proactive but risky, and the medical community’s were indecisive. Were these responses successful? So far, no. Confusion still dominates the public conversation, lawsuits are gaining traction, and the brand’s reputation has taken a hit. Unlike the 1982 case, where Johnson & Johnson’s bold actions set the standard for crisis management, the 2025 situation has no easy fix. That said, the lesson for companies today is clear: when science is uncertain and politics and social media are in play, being reactive isn’t enough. Proactive, transparent, and empathetic communication is the only way to earn and maintain public trust.