\u201cHe\u2019s a Renaissance-type guy,\u201d says Dr. Anthony Fauci,<\/a> the former director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases and presidential adviser for several administrations. Fauci became a mentor to Faust after discovering Inside Medicine, which he reads regularly. The newsletter, Fauci says, is an antidote to hot takes and misinformation online. \u201cHe\u2019s very thoughtful and careful. He doesn\u2019t just blast out against something; he gives it a fair evaluation and makes a helpful and useful comment. So he\u2019s emerging as one of the most respected of the medical public health commentators.\u201d <\/p>\n At a time when many working scientists are unwilling or afraid to publicly take on the Trump administration, or have been ordered not to by their employers and universities, Faust has used his Substack to condemn what he\u2019s called a \u201cpublic health blitzkrieg\u201d \u2014 mass layoffs<\/a> of federal health workers, grant cancellations, and anti-vaccination policies. But his forays into reporting have caused consternation among some of the journalists he competes with, who question whether he follows the same rules and standards they do. <\/p>\n He is unabashed about wanting to be the first to report news in his field and build his public profile. But hours spent shadowing him over the course of a month\u2009\u2014\u2009at work, home, and in his musical endeavors\u2009\u2014 reveal other qualities that drive him: a restless curiosity, hunger to make a difference, and refusal to accept the boundaries others think should define his role.<\/p>\n It\u2019s a unique mix that has propelled Faust to become one of the most important medical voices in a city full of them. And he has no intention of letting up. <\/p>\n Not long after his story about the MV Hondius posted, Faust, clad in a white N95 mask and pale blue scrubs, is standing at the bedside of Brian Johnson, the patient who came in with shortness of breath. Faust, a stethoscope notably missing from his neck, rests his hands on the bed rail and watches him closely.<\/p>\n Sitting up, Johnson tells Faust he feels better but is still a little wheezy. <\/p>\n \u201cMy feeling is, if you\u2019re still feeling wheezy, I don\u2019t need to listen to your lungs, I need to give you more treatments,\u201d says Faust, who\u2019s written that he finds stethoscopes<\/a> mostly superfluous\u2009\u2014\u2009medical tests, his observations, and a patient\u2019s own words usually reveal just as much. \u201cI believe what you\u2019re telling me, because you\u2019ve had this condition for a long time.\u201d<\/p>\n A willingness to defy convention is one of Faust\u2019s trademarks. By his own design, his path in medicine has been unorthodox. <\/p>\n Growing up in San Francisco, Faust\u2009\u2014\u2009whose mother is a retired school librarian and father a tax lawyer-turned-investment adviser\u2009\u2014\u2009was drawn first to music, teaching himself piano early in grade school. He was writing music by age 9, joining the prestigious San Francisco Boys Chorus soon after. <\/p>\n To this day, he remembers the first time he heard the chorus rehearse with an orchestra, the San Francisco Symphony. \u201cIt\u2019s so incredibly powerful\u2026 When you catch that feeling, you\u2019re like, \u2018Oh, I\u2019m gonna catch that high again.\u2019\u201d <\/p>\n Faust\u2019s interest in medicine took hold around the eighth grade, when a friend\u2019s father, a physician, brought them into an operating room to observe a Whipple, a complex procedure in which doctors remove cancerous tumors from the abdomen. Despite the blood, he realized he was intrigued\u2009\u2014\u2009not repulsed\u2009\u2014\u2009by the idea of cutting into people to make them better. <\/p>\n By then, Faust understood that an office job like his father\u2019s was not for him. \u201cI had, like, massive ADHD,<\/a> but I didn\u2019t realize it,\u201d he says. He wasn\u2019t diagnosed until his late 20s. <\/p>\n As an undergrad at Williams College in Western Massachusetts, Faust majored in music while pursuing a pre-med track. He later earned a master\u2019s in music theory and composition at the University of California, Davis, where he wrote dozens of short pieces, including string quartets and choral music. \u201cI wanted to reach a certain point in music, so that when I returned to it\u2009\u2014\u2009if I could return to it later\u2009\u2014\u2009it was at a higher level,\u201d he recalls. <\/p>\n Toward the end of Faust\u2019s second year at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York City, a more experienced colleague told him over drinks that specializing in emergency medicine, with its predictable shifts, would allow him to further his medical career while pursuing other interests. <\/p>\n \u201cThere are very few professions where you can make a huge difference in people\u2019s lives, and then go home and do something else and not get paged,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n \u201cHere\u2019s the problem,\u201d Faust is saying as he stands in a hallway with a resident, discussing a patient with back pain and tingling in his right foot. \u201cWhy am I gonna argue against that? Why am I arguing in favor of an MRI?\u201d<\/p>\n Tilting his head and smiling, he waits for the junior doctor\u2019s response. The resident, reading from notes on his cellphone, had said earlier that the person did not have any \u201cred flag symptoms\u201d that could signal a life-threatening condition. <\/p>\n He now hazards a guess: \u201cThe new foot finding?\u201d <\/p>\n Faust agrees and goes a step further. It\u2019s not the pain or tingling, he explains, but specifically the new weakness in the foot. \u201cNew neuro-weakness is actually a red flag, technically,\u201d he says. <\/p>\n Then, like a coach huddling with a player, he pivots to boost the resident\u2019s confidence.<\/p>\n \u201cYou gave me the information,\u201d Faust says, adding that it\u2019s his own job as physician to connect the dots. \u201cHe actually does have indication for [an MRI]. Got it? Cool.\u201d Then he claps his hands together. \u201cGood talk.\u201d <\/p>\n Faust applies his skills as an educator and communicator to his writing, which began to take shape more than a decade ago. As a resident doctor in New York, he started pitching stories to an industry magazine and was eventually given a regular column. <\/p>\n \u201cOnce I learned enough about medicine to have something interesting to say, the part of my mind that likes to create things like music or think of ideas started merging with this medical knowledge,\u201d he says. <\/p>\n Some columns were irreverent,<\/a> while others told humbling personal stories, such as the one about a neighbor<\/a> who had died of alcoholism, leaving Faust to wonder what more he could have done. He started pitching stories to Slate,<\/a> and wrote more than 50 pieces for the online magazine between 2014 and 2024.<\/p>\n Around the time he began publishing, Faust reconnected on a dating app with a high school classmate, Kate Taylor, who\u2019d become a New York Times reporter. He recalls talking with Taylor and her colleagues at cocktail parties, trying to \u201capprentice myself\u201d to learn how they took a story idea and turned it into polished writing. The couple married in 2016 and later moved to Boston for Faust\u2019s position at Brigham and Women\u2019s, which is now part of Mass General Brigham. <\/p>\n In the spring of 2020, with cases of COVID-19 mounting, Faust and two residents launched a two-page newsletter to help doctors, journalists, and the public keep up with the storm of new research, policy changes, and other developments.<\/p>\n Virtually overnight, it gained around 20,000 followers, later prompting Facebook to offer Faust a deal to launch a project on its newsletter platform, Bulletin\u2009\u2014\u2009marking the birth of Inside Medicine. The new income allowed Faust to cut his clinical work to around half-time. <\/p>\n In late 2022, after Facebook folded Bulletin, Faust moved to Substack. Today, he says college-educated general readers make up the majority of his audience, though medical and science professionals subscribe, too. And while some content is kept behind a paywall, he says most of his stories\u2009\u2014\u2009those he deems important for the public to know about\u2009\u2014\u2009are free for anyone to read. <\/p>\n Like many health journalists, I learned about Faust during the pandemic. I found his newsletter informative and thought-provoking, analyzing data in ways that cast new light on public health problems. One post from January 2023, for example, disproved with simple graphics the claim that COVID deaths<\/a> were being massively overcounted. <\/p>\n When I moved to Boston from Dallas four years ago, I reached out to him to learn more about his work, hoping he\u2019d become a source. He did, but once Trump took office<\/a> again in January 2025, Faust became a competitor, too. <\/p>\n The prospect of a second Trump term had many in Boston\u2019s medical and scientific community on edge over the radical changes to federal health agencies proposed in Project 2025, the conservative blueprint to remake the government. Some of these fears were confirmed when the Department of Health and Human Services, led by Robert F. Kennedy Jr., began freezing grants, planning a radical restructuring, and muzzling and firing employees.<\/p>\n Faust got to work, breaking stories about DOGE layoffs, publishing leaked documents, and securing exclusives including one pointing out an apparent leadership vacuum at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention \u2014 a story cited by a US senator during an oversight hearing.<\/a> <\/p>\n Drawing on his expertise\u2009\u2014\u2009and his anger, as a member of the community he felt was under attack\u2009\u2014\u2009Faust covered America\u2019s withdrawal from the World Health Organization and the dismantling of the US Agency for International Development, and told the personal stories of some who had been fired from the CDC.<\/p>\n One such staffer, a single mother who had helped the CDC prepare for and respond to emergencies including bird flu and Hurricane Helene, had received top performance reviews until a termination notice arrived in her inbox telling her she was \u201cnot fit for continued employment.\u201d<\/a> <\/p>\n In his Substack post, Faust opined that the \u201cadministration\u2019s actions have real effects on real people, and they will diminish important work that keeps all of us safe.\u201d <\/p>\n He added that he\u2019d asked the interviewee if he could set up a GoFundMe campaign on her behalf. She declined because she feared retribution, even with anonymity. According to Faust, she was eventually reinstated to her job and still works there.<\/p>\n Faust\u2019s journalistic efforts make him an outlier in academic medicine, where promotion is typically based on one\u2019s ability to attract grants and publish studies in top journals\u2009\u2014\u2009not break news stories. Still, he does find time to publish research on public health and epidemiology, despite not holding a degree in either one. <\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s sort of, like, this gem,\u201d says Dr. Harlan Krumholz, a cardiologist and prominent health outcomes researcher at the Yale School of Medicine and another of Faust\u2019s mentors. \u201cHe had all these ideas but was not someone who had gone through a traditional research pathway.\u201d <\/p>\n The two connected in early 2020 when Faust reached out to Krumholz for a Slate column about Bernie Sanders,<\/a> after the Vermont senator suffered a heart attack during the Democratic primary race. <\/p>\n Faust wanted to explain how doctors evaluate patients\u2019 risks for a second life-threatening event after they recover from a first one. His takeaway: Sanders, because he\u2019d made a good recovery, was healthy enough to continue his campaign and govern but that, especially in what he called the \u201cage of the geriatric presidency,\u201d candidates should be expected to release more complete medical records. <\/p>\n Soon, Krumholz and Faust were discussing the pandemic and plotting new research questions to tackle together. <\/p>\n They conducted a series of studies on the pandemic\u2019s excess deaths\u2009\u2014 how many more people died in the overall population than would be expected based on historical trends. They argued this was a more comprehensive and objective way of measuring COVID mortality than looking at data from death certificates, because it avoids controversies over how deaths are classified and coded. <\/p>\n They then broke down excess deaths by state and demographic group and found that states with lax pandemic protocols, including lower vaccination rates, suffered higher mortality rates than those with stricter policies. <\/p>\n On his own, Faust has explored other public health questions, including whether Kennedy\u2019s promotion of an unproven link between Tylenol use in pregnancy and autism in children caused a drop in the drug\u2019s use by pregnant women (it did). <\/p>\n On the day of my visit to the Brigham, Faust tells me he had recently exchanged messages and phone calls with Tedros Ghebreyesus,<\/a> the director-general of the World Health Organization. Ghebreyesus had helped him confirm information for a story about the hantavirus for the medical news site MedPage Today, for which Faust serves as editor in chief. <\/p>\n \u201cHe called me twice in one day,\u201d Faust says. \u201cIt was great to hear his voice.\u201d <\/p>\n Usha Lee McFarling, director of the Knight Science Journalism Program at MIT, likens Faust to physician-writers such as Oliver Sacks and Atul Gawande, and says his inroads with leading experts strengthen his reporting. <\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s a really important voice, because he\u2019s a physician at a very influential hospital system and medical school, and he is using that voice in a way that\u2019s very loud and unafraid,\u201d says McFarling, a former national science correspondent for the Globe\u2019s sister publication, STAT, adding that he may be speaking for many who are reluctant to speak out.<\/p>\n Some science reporters, however, have grumbled that Faust is \u201cplaying journalist,\u201d pointing to his liberal use of terms such as \u201cscoop\u201d and \u201cexclusive.\u201d (In at least one case, he had to partially walk back his claim he was first to report a news story.) They also wonder whether his insider perspective\u2009\u2014\u2009and being an employee of a major health care system\u2009\u2014\u2009could pose conflicts of interest and blur the line between reporting and advocacy. <\/p>\n I talked about his writing with Kelly McBride, senior vice president and chair of The Poynter Institute\u2019s Craig Newmark Center for Ethics and Leadership.<\/p>\n \u201cHe has a classic case of competing loyalties,\u201d McBride says. \u201cHe has his loyalty to his audience, which is what he seems to be serving, but also to his profession and colleagues who are also his sources.\u201d She adds that Inside Medicine would benefit from an expanded mission statement that explains its purpose, ethics, and what he does to put his audience first.<\/p>\n Faust, however, insists he is independent, can write on any subject he chooses, and would criticize people he considers friends if he saw reason to, though he concedes it would be more difficult. He points out that he got to know Ghebreyesus after criticizing the WHO on CNBC in the early days of the pandemic.<\/p>\n \u201cNo matter how hard you try, journalism and advocacy are always intertwining,\u201d Faust says, \u201cand I think that some traditional media go to great lengths either to avoid that or to obscure that. I think that in 2026 it\u2019s increasingly OK for those lines to\u2026 be overtly blurred.\u201d <\/p>\n In an age where most Americans get some news from influencers or independent creators,<\/a> there may be more tolerance for blurred lines than in the past, says Chris Roberts, a journalism professor at the University of Alabama and vice chair of the ethics committee of the Society of Professional Journalists. The SPJ, he says, is rewriting its code of ethics for the first time in more than a decade to reflect this landscape. <\/p>\n Regardless of who is reporting the news, the main standards remain fairness, accuracy, independence, seeking truth, minimizing harm, and being transparent, Roberts says. But he adds: \u201cNothing in the First Amendment says you have to have any objectivity at all.\u201d<\/p>\n Faust puts it this way: \u201cIf I saw you doing CPR successfully, I would say, \u2018Good job.\u2019 I wouldn\u2019t say, \u2018Why are you trying to play doctor?\u2019 I think gatekeeping is stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n On a spring evening, Faust rushes into a cavernous Brookline church, a tote bag hanging off one shoulder. He sets the bag down, climbs atop a small podium, and greets the 110-plus members of the Longwood Chorus, an all-volunteer group made up of doctors, nurses, care coordinators, statisticians\u2009\u2014\u2009a diverse slice of Boston\u2019s medical and scientific community. <\/p>\n They\u2019re here to rehearse for an upcoming concert to mark the country\u2019s 250th anniversary. Curated by Faust, the program spans Native American songs, Colonial music, spirituals, modern American music, and an arrangement of \u201cThe Star-Spangled Banner\u201d that Faust pieced together from two other versions. <\/p>\n \u201cYa, ya, ya, ya, ya!\u201d they sing in a warm-up. <\/p>\n \u201cTee, tee, tee, tee, tee!\u201d<\/p>\n Faust runs them through portions of the 11 pieces they will perform, perfecting their diction, at points prompting one section to sing a bit louder, another softer. <\/p>\n Afterward, Faust, wearing a dark blazer over an untucked white shirt and trousers, sits in the church\u2019s nave. He tells me his brain feels \u201cfizzy.\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cHow I feel after these rehearsals is more energized and engaged than with anything else I do. It is like running four codes at once\u2009\u2014\u2009one for each section [of the chorus],\u201d he says, referring to the hospital alert when a patient needs resuscitation. <\/p>\n He knows he won\u2019t be able to sleep when he gets home. So after the rehearsal lets out around 9:15 p.m., he sits down and plays the church\u2019s Steinway for about an hour.<\/p>\n Last summer, he returned to playing piano regularly and taking weekly lessons to help displace his \u201cdoomscrolling\u201d and cope with feelings of burnout. At home, he has only an electronic keyboard, and anyway, it would be too late for him to practice without waking his daughters. <\/p>\n Two days before the concert, Faust is sitting at a cafe overlooking Harvard Square, his mind fizzy again\u2009\u2014\u2009this time about the hantavirus outbreak. He\u2019s been texting with colleagues and parleying on social media about how big a threat this outbreak might be and how far it could spread. <\/p>\n \u201cThis week will definitely be one of the most memorable weeks of my career,\u201d he predicts. <\/p>\n In the coming days, he will flex his reporting muscles, breaking a story about a flight attendant testing negative after being exposed to cruise ship passengers on their way home\u2009\u2014\u2009an indication the virus was not as contagious as some had feared. (When the WHO eventually made the news public, The New York Times credited Inside Medicine with being first to report the story.)<\/p>\n The virus fascinates him. It\u2019s rare, deadly\u2009\u2014\u2009sickening 13 people, including three who died\u2009\u2014\u2009and offers an opportunity to watch a super-spreader event in progress. He hopes the outbreak will help researchers better understand the dynamics of this strain of hantavirus. How did it trigger this many cases? What\u2019s the best way to stop it? <\/p>\n Faust\u2019s penchant for making medical topics accessible to the public could lend itself to future endeavors he\u2019s considered: writing a book, for which he has several ideas; public service, in the form of a post in the federal government; and possibly establishing a lab to investigate topical public health and epidemiological questions. <\/p>\n Faust continues to see much of his work as journalism. Lately, though, he has described more directly how his various roles come together in his writing. The clearest example came in a June 13 post about a former MV Hondius passenger who was held against her will for 42 days in the National Quarantine Unit in Omaha. Faust had previously argued it would be safe for these passengers to return home after a period of time to finish their quarantine. <\/p>\n In this post, he wrote that he and another public health expert had filed written analyses on her behalf when the case came before a CDC quarantine medical reviewer. In a foot note, he added:<\/a><\/p>\n \u201cAs before, I acknowledge that participating in this manner has straddled the line between journalism and advocacy. I don\u2019t attempt to hide this. Rather, I embrace it as a strength of this platform.\u201d <\/p>\n On Mother\u2019s Day, a full house packs into Brookline\u2019s All Saints Parish for the concert by the Longwood Chorus. Clad in black, the singers perform for an enthusiastic crowd of friends, family, and neighbors. <\/p>\n Sitting in the empty audience area after the performance, his daughters occasionally running up to give him hugs or sit in his lap, Faust reflects on his role as conductor and the responsibility he feels to look out for the chorus members\u2019 wellbeing.<\/p>\n \u201cIn science and medicine, we always think of the primary outcome. What\u2019s the first outcome of interest?\u201d he says. As conductor, \u201cIt\u2019s not how I feel, it\u2019s not how the audience feels, it\u2019s looking at the chorus and sensing how they\u2019re doing, taking their temperature. A few weeks ago, I felt like I\u2019m pushing them a little too much, but today I felt really good about them.\u201d <\/p>\n It\u2019s an equilibrium Faust is constantly recalibrating for himself as well. <\/p>\n On any given day when he doesn\u2019t work in the ED, it\u2019s hard to predict where he will be. He could be appearing on television, working on a column, attending an event at his daughters\u2019 school, chatting with a research collaborator. <\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve made it such that I have time to slow down and think,\u201d he says at one of our last meetings. \u201cI don\u2019t know what I\u2019m doing Monday, but I know it\u2019ll be good.\u201d <\/p>\n Anna Kuchment can be reached at anna.kuchment@globe.com<\/a>. Follow her @akuchment<\/a>.<\/p>\n![\"Faust](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/JZ244XESBBB5PFBDO6JNAO3FSY.jpg\")
Faust with Brian Johnson, a patient who came in with shortness of breath, at Brigham and Women\u2019s Hospital in May. Tony Luong for the Globe<\/p>\n![\"Faust,](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/PHEUI7ZGBNHURNALKJEYPAAUCE.jpg\")
Faust, seen with a resident, applies his skills as an educator and communicator to writing his Substack newsletter. Tony Luong for the Globe<\/p>\n![\"Dr.](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/AOGCVRY2ZRB2NLUBFNWDSTWR6Y.jpg\")
Dr. Jeremy Faust speaks with a colleague at Brigham and Women\u2019s Hospital.Tony Luong for the Globe<\/p>\n![\"Faust](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/7BBUZNRMJBCLVGERHMS5SJCNVY.jpg\")
Faust speaks with a resident at Brigham and Women\u2019s Hospital.Tony Luong for the Globe<\/p>\n![\"Dr.](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/XWQQESXDJBFUJOFSTYPYQNPKQI.jpg\")
Dr. Jeremy Faust leads a rehearsal of the Longwood Chorus at United Parish in Brookline in April.Tony Luong for the Globe<\/p>\n![\"As](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/07\/NGU65W37OFGP3IVT3OSS3WE4MQ.jpg\")
As conductor, Faust says he feels a responsibility to look out for the chorus members\u2019 wellbeing.Tony Luong for the Globe<\/p>\n