He profits off raw milk that’s making people sick. The government isn’t stopping him.
Mark McAfee, the Dairy Farmer Fueling a Raw Milk Controversy
He profits off raw milk that – ProPublica, a nonprofit investigative journalism outlet, originally reported this story. Subscribers can access their most impactful pieces immediately upon publication. One early morning in February, a white Ford pickup truck sliced through a dense fog bank, navigating a slick dirt path in California’s Central Valley. From the cab stepped a 64-year-old dairy farmer, broad-shouldered and sun-kissed, who approached with a hearty greeting while his engine remained idling. “You must be Mark,” I remarked, anticipating a handshake rather than an embrace. “I’m a hugger,” he replied, sweeping me into a bear hug. “It feels like we’ve been connected for years.”
Over the prior weeks, I had exchanged emails with Mark McAfee, the founder of Raw Farm, whose communications painted raw milk as a miracle elixir. He described it as a source of unmatched flavor, a catalyst for emotional well-being through its influence on serotonin and dopamine levels, and a remedy for respiratory issues that could literally save lives. Yet, according to 150 years of scientific consensus, raw milk offers no compelling advantages over pasteurized alternatives. By definition, it remains unprocessed, having never undergone the heat treatment that eliminates harmful pathogens. Before pasteurization became standard practice a century ago, thousands of infants perished annually from diseases tied to unpasteurized dairy.
Today, the majority of health experts concur that raw milk lacks proven nutritional superiority over its pasteurized counterpart. It cannot reliably treat or cure ailments and poses a significantly higher risk of foodborne illness. In fact, it carries over 100 times the likelihood of contamination compared to commercial milk. Despite this, McAfee’s operation has become the largest raw-milk dairy in the country, generating nearly $30 million annually. His success stems from a growing consumer base that believes their health has been compromised by industrial food processing, seeking unadulterated products that retain natural benefits.
Raw milk’s resurgence in popularity has been fueled by a blend of cultural shifts, political influences, and public distrust in health authorities. Skepticism toward Big Pharma and food corporations has led many to view raw milk as a symbol of autonomy and resistance. National sales of raw milk have surged by 65% between 2023 and 2024, with over 10 million Americans now part of the trend. This rise puzzles me: How has raw milk managed to gain traction despite recurring outbreaks of salmonella and E. coli, and even the recent discovery of bird flu in Raw Farm’s supply?
McAfee’s approach to raw milk is more than a business model—it’s a philosophy. “They think we’re some kind of a fringe, weird trend,” he remarked during our meeting at his Fresno-area farm, which is managed by him and his adult children. “But we’re dead serious.” He argued that his farm’s rigorous bacterial screening ensures safety, positioning his products as both healthy and trustworthy. Yet, federal and state regulators have tied his business to over a dozen recalls and illnesses, affecting hundreds of consumers.
“I’ve put a couple kids in the hospital, and they have been sick, but they recovered,” McAfee admitted before our conversation. “But here’s the thing: I’m a pioneer. I’m climbing a mountain they say you can’t climb.”
McAfee is not your typical farmer. He is a raw milk advocate who has navigated regulatory challenges for two decades without facing severe consequences. The Food and Drug Administration and Department of Justice have accused him of violating federal standards, yet he has remained operational. This resilience may be tied to recent political changes. The Biden administration had planned to intensify efforts against raw milk producers when President Donald Trump took office, appointing one of McAfee’s staunchest supporters to head the Department of Health and Human Services.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who later became the agency’s secretary, had previously challenged the government’s stance on raw milk. A year before his confirmation, he campaigned on a platform criticizing the “aggressive suppression” of unpasteurized dairy. In his new role, he championed raw milk, even celebrating a federal report on revitalizing public health with raw-milk cocktails in the White House. McAfee’s product now aligns with Kennedy’s vision, further entrenching its political legitimacy.
The raw milk movement has sparked a national debate. Advocates argue it is a return to natural foods, while critics highlight its risks. Despite these concerns, McAfee’s farm continues to thrive, reflecting a broader trend where consumer demand outpaces regulatory action. The question remains: Why is the government allowing a product that, according to scientists, can be deadly to flourish?
McAfee’s persistence underscores the tension between innovation and regulation. While he acknowledges the illnesses tied to his milk, he frames them as a byproduct of progress. “I’m not just selling a drink,” he insists. “I’m selling a belief in health, in freedom from processed foods, and in the power of nature.” This narrative resonates with a public increasingly wary of industrial agriculture, even as outbreaks continue to make headlines. The challenge for regulators lies in balancing consumer choice with public safety, a dilemma that has persisted for decades.
As raw milk’s market expands, so does its influence on policy. McAfee’s story is emblematic of a larger struggle: the fight between tradition and modern science, between grassroots movements and federal oversight. While the data on its risks remains clear, the political and cultural forces driving its popularity are undeniable. For now, the government’s hands seem tied, leaving McAfee to continue his mission of “defying the grain” and reshaping the dairy landscape.