It’s become harder and harder to separate fact from fiction when it comes to abortion. Misinformation and junk science aren’t just lurking in comment sections or social media feeds anymore; they’ve found their way into legislative chambers, courtrooms, and federal agencies. Consider the Clean Water for All Life Act, introduced by anti-abortion lawmakers in March. The bill claims, based on flimsy research, that mifepristone—one of the two drugs used in medication abortion—is contaminating the nation’s drinking water. It also seeks to ban telehealth prescriptions for the drug, which would make it dramatically harder for people to access care. The bill is still stuck in committee, but its existence is alarming. The pressure from anti-abortion advocates has already influenced federal regulators in troubling ways. The Environmental Protection Agency has added mifepristone to a study of potential drinking-water contaminants, and the Food and Drug Administration—the same agency that approved the drug in 2000 after years of rigorous review—has agreed to conduct a “safety study” based on a self-published report that has been widely debunked. This isn’t a story about a dangerous drug. It’s a story about how political pressure can distort science and make people question things that have been proven safe for decades. More than a hundred peer-reviewed studies have shown that mifepristone is safe and effective. It has been used by millions of people around the world. But when officials treat debunked claims as if they deserve serious attention, it sends a confusing message to the public: maybe there’s something to worry about. That manufactured uncertainty is exactly what anti-abortion activists want. By keeping mifepristone under a cloud of suspicion, they can push for restrictions that have nothing to do with patient safety and everything to do with making abortion harder to get.
The falsehoods don’t stop with drinking water. Abortion opponents keep recycling the same myths: that abortion is unsafe, that it causes infertility, that it leads to mental health problems, and that medication abortion is often used in coerced situations. These claims are repeated so often that they start to feel true, but the studies behind them rarely meet basic scientific standards. They often hide their methods and data, making it impossible for other researchers to verify them or replicate the results. As Anna Bernstein, a principal federal policy advisor at the Guttmacher Institute, explains, the conclusions in these papers are “not at all supported by the findings.” The authors aren’t actually studying safety or outcomes in a meaningful way; they’re just using the platform to call for more restrictions on mifepristone. “That points to political motivation rather than rigorous scientific methods,” she says. And the consequences are felt in clinics every single day. Dr. Kassi Avent, a family medicine doctor in New Jersey who has provided abortions in several states, says nearly every patient who walks through the door has a question based on misinformation. The most common one is: “Am I going to be able to have kids in the future?” For so many people, the ability to build a family later is deeply important, so the false claim that abortion harms fertility can weigh heavily on their decision-making. It’s a cruel burden to carry into an experience that is already emotional and complicated. The constant stream of scary headlines and misleading warnings doesn’t just confuse people; it makes them afraid of a procedure that is actually one of the safest medical interventions available. That fear is not an accident. It is manufactured by people who want to control what others can do with their bodies.
This confusion isn’t limited to people seeking abortions. It’s everywhere, and it’s affecting public opinion in real ways. Polling from KFF, a health policy research organization, shows that since the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, more adults have heard of mifepristone. About six in ten people now recognize the name. But a huge share—41 percent—are unsure whether abortion pills are safe. Only 22 percent believe they are unsafe, but the uncertainty itself is telling. When high-ranking officials question the safety of a drug that has been approved for more than two decades, it’s no wonder people start to doubt. As Audrey Kearney, a senior survey analyst at KFF, points out, trust in public health agencies has declined since the COVID-19 pandemic. People now rely more on their own doctors than on any official source. Having a trusted provider can protect someone from misinformation, but for those without that relationship, uncertainty can linger and grow. The problem is even worse in communities that have been pushed to the margins of the healthcare system. Lupe M. Rodríguez, executive director of the National Latina Institute for Reproductive Justice, sees the impact every day. People who can’t get care turn to whatever resources they can find, often social media and messaging apps. Those spaces are filled with unchecked misinformation, and platforms rarely have enough resources to moderate false content in English, let alone Spanish. “It forms the basis for misinformation that folks carry in the real world,” Rodríguez says. The consequences show up in rising rates of maternal mortality, shortages of care, and delays in treatment. On top of all that, many people are also afraid of immigration enforcement, which makes them even less likely to seek help. Misinformation thrives in that environment, feeding on fear and leaving people with nowhere safe to turn.
The misinformation has also made its way into the courts. Anti-abortion groups are now using junk science to justify new restrictions, and one case in particular has caused chaos across the country. In Louisiana, the Alliance Defending Freedom, a powerful anti-abortion legal group, sued the FDA on behalf of the state and a woman who claimed she was coerced into taking abortion medication she received in the mail. The lawsuit argues that the FDA’s 2023 decision to allow telehealth dispensing of mifepristone was unlawful and dangerous. To support their case, the plaintiffs pointed to the same discredited studies that have been rejected by the scientific community. In May, the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals sided with Louisiana and temporarily reinstated an old rule requiring in-person dispensing of the drug. The decision was so broad that it briefly applied nationwide, causing immediate panic. Drug companies quickly filed emergency appeals with the Supreme Court, and the justices preserved telehealth dispensing while the case continues. But the damage had already been done. “Confusion was the goal,” says Vanessa Borjon, director of helpline services at the Chicago Abortion Fund. The back-and-forth made people wonder whether mifepristone was actually safe, and whether they could rely on their scheduled appointments. Some people may have decided to travel for an in-person procedure instead of using telehealth, even though telehealth is often more convenient, more affordable, and better suited to their lives. The entire episode shows how a single lawsuit, built on shaky science, can create a ripple of fear and uncertainty for people who just want to get the care they need. It also shows how easily the legal system can be weaponized to spread confusion and delay access to essential healthcare.
Even providers have a hard time keeping up with the legal whiplash. Court rulings and stays can change overnight, and doctors sometimes have to pivot quickly, unsure what is legal from one day to the next. If that’s tough for medical professionals, imagine how it feels for someone trying to make an appointment while also juggling work, childcare, and the emotional weight of the decision. Dr. Bhaskari Burra, an OB-GYN in North Carolina, explains that whenever there’s a news report about medication abortion potentially going away, people automatically assume it’s already gone. They may not know that a ruling is just a preliminary step, or that an appeal is still pending. For Burra, the constant message that abortion pills are unsafe is “a purposeful and manipulative scare tactic” designed to frighten people out of seeking care. But there is also hope. Advocates have stepped up to fight misinformation with accurate, compassionate information. More people are learning about telehealth and self-managed abortion, and social media isn’t only a breeding ground for lies; it can also be a place where good information spreads quickly. Kwajelyn Jackson, executive director of the Feminist Center for Reproductive Liberation in Atlanta, says it’s crucial for reproductive justice leaders to make sure accurate stories rise to the top. “It can be hard to discern on social media, when you’re just hearing from a lot of different voices, which ones are the right ones,” she acknowledges. But advocates are determined to make the truth easier to find. They know that when people have clear, honest information, they are better equipped to make the right decisions for themselves and their families.
For those living in states with strict bans, the fear is even more intense. In Florida, where abortion is banned after six weeks—often before a person even knows they’re pregnant—Planned Parenthood’s chief medical officer, Dr. Robyn Schickler, sees patients who are scared and who have absorbed a lot of anti-abortion messaging. There’s more stigma in these states, and the constant presence of protestors outside clinics makes everything harder. Patients are often bracing for judgment, shame, or a difficult experience. But Schickler also sees something unexpected: relief. After all the misinformation, patients come in expecting the worst. Instead, they find kindness, respect, and care that goes smoothly. “Once they’ve either taken the medication or had the procedure, they’re like, ‘Oh, that was it?’” The procedure they were told would be dangerous and painful turns out to be straightforward and safe. That moment of surprise is a reminder that reality is far less scary than the stories designed to frighten people. Misinformation is powerful, and it has shaped laws, court decisions, and public opinion. But it hasn’t stopped people from seeking care, and it hasn’t stopped providers from offering it. The fight for accurate information is ongoing, and it’s exhausting. Yet the resilience of patients, doctors, and advocates is unmistakable. They keep showing up, sharing the truth, and proving that safe abortion care is nothing to fear.