RAPID CITY, S.D. — Cassandra Palmier had been meaning to get her son the second and final dose of the measles vaccine. But car problems made it difficult to get to the doctor.

So she pounced on the opportunity to get him vaccinated after learning that a mobile clinic would be visiting her neighborhood.

“I was definitely concerned about the epidemic and the measles,” Palmier, a member of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, said at the June event. “I wanted to do my part.”

So did her son, Makaito Cuny.

“I’m not going to be scared,” the 5-year-old announced as he walked onto the bus containing the clinic and hopped into an exam chair.

Makaito sat still as a nurse gave him the shot in his arm. “I did it!” he said while smiling at his mother.

The vaccine clinic was hosted by the Great Plains Tribal Leaders’ Health Board, which serves tribes across Iowa, Nebraska, and the Dakotas. It’s one way Native American tribes and organizations are responding to concerns about low measles vaccination rates and patients’ difficulty accessing health care as the disease spreads across the country.

Meghan O’Connell, the board’s chief public health officer, said it is also working with tribes that want to host vaccine clinics.

Elsewhere, tribal health organizations have launched social media campaigns, are making sure health providers are vaccinated, and are reaching out to the parents of unvaccinated children.

This spring, Project ECHO at the University of New Mexico hosted an online video series about measles aimed at health care professionals and organizations that serve Native American communities. The presenters outlined the basics of measles diagnosis and treatment, discussed culturally relevant communication strategies, and shared how tribes are responding to the outbreak.

Participants also strategized about ways to improve vaccination rates, said Harry Brown, a physician and an epidemiologist for the United South and Eastern Tribes, a nonprofit that works with 33 tribes in the Atlantic Coast and Southeast regions.

“It’s a pretty hot topic right now in Indian Country and I think a lot of people are being proactive,” he said.

Measles can survive for up to two hours in the air in a space where an infected person has been, sickening up to 90% of people who aren’t vaccinated, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

The U.S. has had 1,319 confirmed cases of measles this year as of July 23, according to the CDC. It’s the largest outbreak in the U.S. since 1992. Ninety-two percent of the 2025 cases involve unvaccinated patients or people with an unknown vaccination status. Three people had died in the U.S. and 165 had been hospitalized as of July 23.

O’Connell said data on Native Americans’ vaccination rates is imperfect but that it suggests a lower percentage of them have received measles shots than the overall U.S. population.

The limited national data on measles vaccination rates for Native Americans is based on small surveys of people who self-identify as Native American. Some show that Native Americans have slightly lower measles vaccination rates, while others show significant gaps.

Data from some states, including South Dakota and Montana, shows that Native Americans are less likely than white children to be vaccinated on schedule.

The national measles vaccination rate is significantly lower for Native Americans who use the mostly rural Indian Health Service. About 76% of children 16 to 27 months old had gotten the first shot, according to data collected by the agency during recent patient visits at 156 clinics. That’s a 10-percentage-point drop from 10 years ago.

But the IHS data shows that its patients are at least as likely as other children to have received both recommended measles shots by the time they’re 17. O’Connell said it’s unclear if currently unvaccinated patients will continue the trend of eventually getting up to date on their shots or if they will remain unvaccinated.

The immunization rate is probably higher for older children since schools require students to get vaccinated unless they have an exemption, Brown said. He said it’s important that parents get their children vaccinated on time, when they’re young and more at risk of being hospitalized or dying from the disease.

Native Americans may have lower vaccination rates due to the challenges they face in accessing shots and other health care, O’Connell said. Those on rural reservations may be an hour or more from a clinic. Or, like Palmier, they may not have reliable transportation.

Another reason, O’Connell said, is that some Native Americans distrust the Indian Health Service, which is chronically underfunded and understaffed. If the only nearby health care facility is run by the agency, patients may delay or skip care.

O’Connell and Brown said vaccine skepticism and mistrust of the entire health care system are growing in Native American communities, as has occurred elsewhere nationwide.

“Prior to social media, I think our population was pretty trustful of childhood vaccination. And American Indians have a long history of being severely impacted by infectious disease,” he said.

European colonizers’ arrival in the late 1400s brought new diseases, including measles, that killed tens of millions of Indigenous people in North and South America by the early 1600s. Native Americans have also had high mortality rates in modern pandemics, including the 1918-20 Spanish flu and covid-19.

The Great Plains Tribal Leaders’ Health Board reacted quickly when measles cases began showing up near its headquarters in South Dakota this year. Nebraska health officials announced in late May that a child had measles in a rural part of the state, close to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Then, four people from the Rapid City area got sick later that month and into the middle of June.

“Our phones really rang off the hook” once that news came out, said Darren Crowe, a vice president at the board’s Oyate Health Center in Rapid City. He said parents wanted to know if their children were up to date on their measles vaccines.

Crowe said the health board ordered extra masks, created a measles command team that meets daily, and called parents when its online database showed their children needed a shot.

Brown praised that approach.

“It takes a concerted outreach effort that goes individual to individual,” he said, adding that his organization helped the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Indians and the Alabama-Coushatta Tribe of Texas with similar efforts.

Brown said reaching specific families can be a challenge in some low-income Native American communities, where many people’s phone numbers frequently change since they use temporary prepaid plans.

Once a health worker reaches a parent, Brown said, they should listen and ask questions before sharing the importance of the vaccine against measles, mumps, and rubella.

“Rather than trying to preach to somebody and beat them over the head with data or whatever to convince them that this is what they need to do, you start out by finding out where they are,” he said. “So, ‘Tell me about your experience with vaccination. Tell me what you know about vaccination.’”

Most people agree to immunize their children when presented with helpful information in a nonjudgmental way, Brown said.

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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More states are passing laws to protect information generated by a person’s brain and nervous system as technology improves the ability to unlock the sensitive details of a person’s health, mental states, emotions, and cognitive functioning.

Colorado, California, and Montana are among the states that have recently required safeguarding brain data collected by devices outside of medical settings. That includes headphones, earbuds, and other wearable consumer products that aim to improve sleep, focus, and aging by measuring electrical activity and sending the data to an app on users’ phones.

A report by the Neurorights Foundation, an advocacy group that aims to protect people from the misuse of neurotechnology, found that 29 of 30 companies with neurotechnology products that can be purchased online have access to brain data and “provide no meaningful limitations to this access.” Almost all of them can share data with third parties.

In June, the American Medical Association called for greater regulation of neural data. In April, several Democratic members of the U.S. Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation asked the Federal Trade Commission to investigate whether companies are exploiting consumers’ brain data. Juliana Gruenwald Henderson, a deputy director of the FTC’s Office of Public Affairs, said the agency had received the letter but had no additional comment.

Although current devices gather relatively basic information like sleep states, advocates for brain data protection caution that future technologies, including artificial intelligence, could extract more personal and sensitive information about people’s medical conditions or innermost thoughts.

“If you collect the data today, what can you read from it five years from now because the technology is advancing so quickly?” said Democratic state Sen. Cathy Kipp, who sponsored Colorado’s 2024 neural data protection bill when she was in the state House of Representatives.

As both excitement and trepidation about AI build, at least 28 states and the U.S. Virgin Islands have enacted some type of AI regulation separate from the privacy bills protecting neural data. President Donald Trump’s “One Big Beautiful Bill” included a 10-year halt on states passing laws to regulate AI, but the Senate stripped that provision out of the budget reconciliation bill before voting to approve it on July 1.

The spirit of laws in Colorado, California, and Montana is to protect the neural data itself, not to regulate any algorithm or AI that might use it, said Sean Pauzauskie, medical director for the Neurorights Foundation.

But neurotechnology and AI go hand in hand, Pauzauskie said. “A lot of what these devices promise is based on pattern recognition. AI is really driving the usability and significance of the patterns in the brain data.”

Cristin Welle, a professor of neurosurgery at the University of Colorado School of Medicine, said that AI’s ability to identify patterns is a game changer in her field. “But contribution of a person’s neural data on an AI training set should be voluntary. It should be an opt-in, not a given.”

Chile in 2021 became the first country to adopt a constitutional amendment for neurorights, which prioritize human rights in the development of neurotechnology and collection of neural data, and UNESCO has said that neurotechnology and artificial intelligence could together pose a threat to human identity and autonomy.

Neurotechnology can sound like science fiction. Researchers used a cap with 128 electrodes and an AI model to decode the brain’s electric signals from thoughts into speech. And two years ago, a study described how neuroscientists reconstructed the Pink Floyd song “Another Brick in the Wall” by analyzing the brain signals of 29 epilepsy patients who listened to the song with electrodes implanted in their brains.

The aim is to use neurotechnology to help those with paralysis or speech disabilities, as well as treat or diagnose traumatic brain injuries and brain disorders such as Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s. Elon Musk’s Neuralink and Synchron, funded by Bill Gates and Jeff Bezos, are among the companies with clinical trials underway for devices implanted in the brain.

Pauzauskie, a hospital neurologist, started worrying four years ago about the blurring of the line between clinical and consumer use of neural data. He noted that the devices used by his epilepsy patients were also available for purchase online, but without protections afforded by the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act in medical settings.

Pauzauskie approached Kipp two years ago at a constituent meetup in his hometown of Fort Collins to propose a law to protect brain data in Colorado. “The first words out of her mouth that I’ll never forget were, ‘Who would be against people owning their own brain data?’” he said.

Brain data protection is one of the rare issues that unite lawmakers across the political aisle. The bills in California, Montana, and Colorado passed unanimously or nearly unanimously. Montana’s law will go into effect in October.

Neural data protection laws in Colorado and California amend each state’s general consumer privacy act, while Montana’s law adds to its existing genetic information privacy act. Colorado and Montana require initial express consent to collect or use neural data and separate consent or the ability to opt out before disclosing that data to a third party. A business must provide a way for consumers to delete their data when operating in all three states.

“I want a very hard line in the sand that says, you own this completely,” said Montana state Republican Sen. Daniel Zolnikov, who sponsored his state’s neural data bill and other privacy laws. “You have to give consent. You have the right to have it deleted. You have complete rights over this information.”

For Zolnikov, Montana’s bill is a blueprint for a national neural data protection law, and Pauzauskie said support of regulatory efforts by groups like the AMA pave the way for further federal and state efforts.

Welle agreed that federal regulations are needed in addition to these new state laws. “I absolutely hope that we can come up with something on a national level that can enshrine people’s neural rights into law, because I think this is going to be more important than we can even imagine at this time.”

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ALBANY, Ga. — Belinda McLoyd has been thinking about peanut butter.

McLoyd, 64, receives a small monthly payment through the federal Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, previously known as food stamps.

“They don’t give you that much to work with,” she said. To fit her tight budget, she eats ramen noodles — high on sodium and low on nutrition — multiple times a week.

If she had more money, said McLoyd, who has been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and heart problems, she’d buy more grapes, melons, chuck roast, ground turkey, cabbage, and turnip greens. That’s what she did when lawmakers nearly doubled her SNAP benefit during the pandemic.

But now that a GOP-led Congress has approved $186 billion in cuts to the food assistance program through 2034, McLoyd, who worked in retail until she retired in 2016, isn’t sure how she will be able to eat any healthy food if her benefits get reduced again.

McLoyd said her only hope for healthy eating might be to resort to peanut butter, which she heard “has everything” in it.

“I get whatever I can get,” said McLoyd, who uses a walker to get around her senior community in southwestern Georgia. “I try to eat healthy, but some things I can’t, because I don’t have enough money to take care of that.”

The second Trump administration has said that healthy eating is a priority. It released a “Make America Healthy Again” report citing poor diet as a cause of childhood illnesses and chronic diseases. And it’s allowing states — including Arkansas, Idaho, and Utah — to limit purchases of unhealthy food with federal SNAP benefits for the first time in the history of the century-old anti-hunger program.

President Donald Trump also signed a tax and spending law on July 4 that will shift costs to states and make it harder for people to qualify for SNAP by expanding existing work requirements. The bill cuts about 20% of SNAP’s budget, the deepest cut the program has faced. About 40 million people now receive SNAP payments, but 3 million of them will lose their nutrition assistance completely, and millions more will see their benefits reduced, according to an analysis of an earlier version of the bill by the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office.

Researchers say SNAP cuts run counter to efforts to help people prevent chronic illness through healthy food.

“People are going to have to rely on cheaper food, which we know is more likely to be processed, less healthy,” said Kate Bauer, an associate professor of nutritional sciences at the University of Michigan School of Public Health.

“It’s, ‘Oh, we care about health — but for the rich people,’” she said.

About 47 million people lived in households with limited or uncertain access to food in 2023, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture. The agency’s research shows that people living in food-insecure households are more likely to develop hypertension, arthritis, diabetes, asthma, and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.

The Trump administration counters that the funding cuts would not harm people who receive benefits.

“This is total fearmongering,” said White House spokesperson Anna Kelly in an email. “The bill will ultimately strengthen SNAP for those who need it by implementing cost-sharing measures with states and commonsense work requirements.”

McLoyd and other residents in Georgia’s Dougherty County, where Albany is located, already face steep barriers to accessing healthy food, from tight budgets and high rates of poverty to a lack of grocery stores and transportation, said Tiffany Terrell, who founded A Better Way Grocers in 2017 to bring fresh food to people who can’t travel to a grocery store.

More than a third of residents receive SNAP benefits in the rural, majority-Black county that W.E.B. Du Bois described as “the heart of the Black Belt” and a place “of curiously mingled hope and pain,” where people struggled to get ahead in a land of former cotton plantations, in his 1903 book, “The Souls of Black Folk.”

Terrell said that a healthier diet could mitigate many of the illnesses she sees in her community. In 2017, she replaced school bus seats with shelves stocked with fruits, vegetables, meats, and eggs and drove her mobile grocery store around to senior communities, public housing developments, and rural areas.

But cuts to food assistance will devastate the region, setting back efforts to help residents boost their diet with fruits, vegetables, and other nutritious food and tackle chronic disease, she said.

Terrell saw how SNAP recipients like McLoyd ate healthier when food assistance rose during the pandemic. They got eggs, instead of ramen noodles, and fresh meat and produce, instead of canned sausages.

Starting in 2020, SNAP recipients received extra pandemic assistance, which corresponded to a 9% decrease in people saying there was sometimes or often not enough food to eat, according to the Institute for Policy Research at Northwestern University. Once those payments ended in 2023, more families had trouble purchasing enough food, according to a study published in Health Affairs in October. Non-Hispanic Black families, in particular, saw an increase in anxiety, the study found.

“We know that even short periods of food insecurity for kids can really significantly harm their long-term health and cognitive development,” said Katie Bergh, a senior policy analyst on the food assistance team at the Center on Budget Policy and Priorities. Cuts to SNAP “will put a healthy diet even farther out of reach for these families.”

The Trump administration said it’s boosting healthy eating for low-income Americans through restrictions on what they can buy with SNAP benefits. It has begun approving state requests to limit the purchase of soda and candy with SNAP benefits.

“Thank you to the governors of Indiana, Arkansas, Idaho, Utah, Iowa, and Nebraska for their bold leadership and unwavering commitment to Make America Healthy Again,” said Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. in a press release about the requests. “I call on every governor in the nation to submit a SNAP waiver to eliminate sugary drinks — taxpayer dollars should never bankroll products that fuel the chronic disease epidemic.”

Although states have asked for such restrictions in the past, previous administrations, including the first Trump administration, never approved them.

Research shows that programs encouraging people to buy healthy food are more effective than regulating what they can buy. Such limits increase stigma on families that receive benefits, are burdensome to retailers, and often difficult to implement, researchers say.

“People make incredibly tough choices to survive,” said Gina Plata-Nino, the deputy director of SNAP at the Food Research & Action Center, a nonprofit advocacy group, and a former senior policy adviser in the Biden administration.

“It’s not about soda and candy,” she said. “It’s about access.”

Terrell said she is unsure how people will survive if their food benefits are further trimmed.

“What are we thinking people are going to do?” said Terrell of A Better Way Grocers, who also opened a bustling community market last year that sells fresh juices, smoothies, and wellness shots in downtown Albany. “We’ll have people choosing between food and bills.”

That’s true for Stephen Harrison, 22, whose monthly SNAP benefit supports him, along with his parents and younger brother. During the pandemic, he used the extra assistance to buy strawberries and grapes, but now he comes into A Better Way Grocers to buy an orange when he can.

Harrison, who is studying culinary arts at Albany Technical College, said his family budgets carefully to afford meals like pork chops with cornbread and collard greens, but he said that, if his benefits are cut, the family will have to resort to cheaper foods.

“I’d buy hot dogs,” he said with a shrug.

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SHREVEPORT, La. — When Robert Smith met his future girlfriend in 2010, he wanted to take things slowly. For Smith, no relationship had been easy in the years since he was diagnosed with the human immunodeficiency virus, or HIV. People often became afraid when they learned his status, even running away when he coughed.

The couple waited months to have sex until Smith felt he could share his medical status. To prepare her, Smith said, he took his girlfriend to his job in HIV prevention at the Philadelphia Center, a northwestern Louisiana nonprofit that offers resources to people with HIV, which also provided him housing at the time.

Finally, he revealed the news: Smith was diagnosed with HIV in 1994 and started taking daily antiviral pills in 2006. The virus could no longer be detected in his blood, and he couldn’t transmit it to a sexual partner.

Smith said his girlfriend seemed comfortable knowing his status. When it came to sex, there was no hesitation, he said. But a couple of years later, when Smith wanted to break up, he said, her tone shifted.

“She was like, ‘If you try to leave me, I’m gonna put you in jail,’” recalled Smith, now 68. “At the time, I really didn’t know the sincerity of it.”

After they broke up, she reported him to the police, accusing him of violating a little-known law in Louisiana — a felony called “intentional exposure to HIV.” He disputed the allegations, but in 2013 accepted a plea deal to spend six months in prison on the charge. He had a few months left on parole from a past conviction on different charges, and Smith thought this option would let him move past the relationship faster. He didn’t realize the conviction would also land him on the state’s sex offender registry.

For nearly two decades, Smith had dealt with the stigma associated with having HIV; the registry added another layer of exclusion, severely restricting where he could live and work to avoid minors. Not many people want to hire a sex offender, he said. Smith has been told by the local sheriff’s office he’s not allowed to do simple things, like go to a public park or a high school football game, since the conviction.

“I’ve been undetectable for 15 years, but that law still punishes us,” Smith said.

Louisiana is one of 30 states with criminal penalties related to exposing or transmitting HIV. Most of the laws were passed in the 1980s during the emergence of the AIDS epidemic. Since then, several states have amended their laws to make them less punitive or repealed them outright, including Maryland and North Dakota this year.

But Louisiana’s law remains among the harshest. The state is one of five that may require people such as Smith to register as a sex offender if convicted, a label that can follow them for over a decade. And state lawmakers considered a bill to expand the law to apply to other sexually transmitted infections, then failed to pass it before the session ended.

Meanwhile, people with HIV also face the threat that federal funding cuts will affect their access to treatment, along with prevention efforts, supportive services, and outreach. Such strategies have proved to slow the HIV/AIDS epidemic, unlike the laws’ punitive approach.

The tax and domestic policy law previously known as the “One Big Beautiful Bill” will likely affect HIV-positive people enrolled in Medicaid by reducing federal support for Medicaid and restricting eligibility. About 40% of adults under 65 with HIV rely on Medicaid.

The Trump administration proposed in its fiscal 2026 budget request to eliminate HIV prevention programs at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and to cancel a grant that helps fund housing for people with HIV. The Ryan White HIV/AIDS program, the largest federal fund dedicated to supporting HIV-positive people, also faces cuts. The program serves more than half of the people in the U.S. diagnosed with HIV, including in Louisiana, according to KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes KFF Health News.

Public health officials maintain that state laws criminalizing HIV exposure hurt efforts to end the HIV epidemic. Epidemiologists and other experts on AIDS agree that the enforcement of such laws is often shaped by fear, not science. For example, in many states that criminalize HIV exposure, people living with HIV can face heightened criminal penalties for actions that can’t transmit the virus, such as spitting on someone. The laws further stigmatize and deter people from getting tested and treatment, undermining response to the epidemic, experts say.

At least 4,400 people in 14 states have been arrested under these laws, though data is limited and the actual number is likely higher, and the arrests aren’t decreasing, according to analyses by UCLA’s Williams Institute.

“ Some people think it’s an issue that’s gone away, and that simply isn’t the case,” said Nathan Cisneros, a researcher at the Williams Institute.

In Louisiana, a 2022 Williams Institute analysis found at least 147 allegations reported to law enforcement under the state’s HIV law from 2011 to mid-2022. Black people made up nearly three-quarters of the people convicted and placed on the sex offender registry. Most were Black men, like Smith. At the time of the analysis, Black people made up about two-thirds of HIV diagnoses in the state.

“ We see over and over that Black people are disproportionately affected by the HIV epidemic and disproportionately affected by policing and incarceration in the United States,” Cisneros said.

Nationally, other marginalized groups such as women, sex workers, the queer community, or people who overlap across more than one group are also disproportionately arrested and prosecuted under similar criminalization laws, Cisneros said.

Ensnared in the System

Louisiana’s law hinges on the requirement that if a person knows they have HIV, they must disclose their HIV status and receive consent before exposing someone to the virus.

Louisiana District Attorneys Association Executive Director Zach Daniels said these cases don’t come up often and can be difficult to prosecute. Daniels said the intimate nature of the cases can lead to little evidence in support of either side, especially if the accuser doesn’t contract HIV.

When it comes to talking about one’s sex life, Daniels said, “there are often no other witnesses, besides the two participants.”

Louisiana’s law is written so that “intentional exposure” can occur through “any means or contact.” That includes sex and needle-sharing, practices known to transmit the virus. But the language of the law is so broad that actions known not to transmit the virus — like biting or scratching — could be included, said Dietz, the statewide coordinator for the Louisiana Coalition on Criminalization and Health, an advocacy network founded by people living with HIV that has opposed the law.

The broad nature of the law creates opportunities for abuse, as the threat of being reported under the law can be used as a coercive tool in relationships, said Dietz, who goes by one name and uses they/them pronouns. Such threats, Dietz said, have kept people in abusive relationships and loomed over child custody battles. Dietz said they’ve supported people accused of exposing their children to HIV in ways that are not medically possible.

“ ‘Any means or contact’ could be just merely being around your kids,” they said.

The prosecutors’ organization still supports the law as a recourse for emergency responders who, in rare instances, come into contact with blood or syringes containing the virus. In one recent high-profile case in New Orleans, the law was used against a local DJ accused of knowingly transmitting HIV to several women without informing them of his status or using a condom.

The person accused of violating the law, not the accuser, must prove their case — that they disclosed their HIV status beforehand. Without a signed affidavit or tape recording, courts can end up basing their decisions on conflicting testimonies with little supporting evidence.

That’s what Smith alleged happened to him.

After his relationship ended, he said, he remembered being called into a meeting with his parole officer where a detective waited for him, asking about his former relationship and whether his girlfriend had known about his HIV status.

Smith said yes. But that’s not what she had told police.

Verite News could not find a working phone number for Smith’s former girlfriend but corroborated the story with the incident’s police report. His attorney at the time, a public defender named Carlos Prudhomme, said he didn’t remember much about the case, and court documents are sealed because it was a sex offense.

In court, it was her word against his. So when he was offered six months in prison instead of the 10-year maximum, he switched his plea from not guilty to guilty. But he said he didn’t know his new conviction would require him to register as a sex offender once he got out — worsening the stigma.

“When people see ‘sex offender,’ the first thing that comes to their mind is rape, child molester, predator,” Smith said. “This law puts me in a category that I don’t care to be in.”

He has tried to make the most of it, despite the expense of paying fees each year to reregister. After being rejected from jobs, he started a catering business and built a loyal clientele. But he said he’s still stuck living in a poorly maintained apartment complex primarily inhabited by sex offenders.

“I understand their strategy for creating this law to prevent the spread, but it’s not helping. It’s hurting; it’s hindering. It’s destroying people’s lives instead of helping people’s lives, especially the HIV community,” he said. “They don’t care about us.”

The Case for Reform

Since 2014, there has been a nationwide effort to update or repeal state laws that criminalize HIV nondisclosure, exposure, or transmission. A dozen states have changed their laws to align more closely with modern science, and four have gotten rid of them completely in hopes of reducing stigma and improving public health outcomes, according to the Center for HIV Law and Policy.

Sean McCormick, an attorney with the center, said these changes are influenced partly by a growing body of evidence showing the laws’ negative consequences.

McCormick said the laws offer a “clear disincentive” for people to get tested for HIV. If they don’t know their status, there’s no criminal liability for transmission or exposure.

A 2024 survey by Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and DLH Corp. researchers found that after California updated its HIV criminalization law in 2018, respondents were more likely to get tested. Meanwhile, survey respondents in Nevada, which still had a more punitive law on the books, were less likely to get tested.

There’s no one-size-fits-all solution, McCormick said. His center works with HIV-positive people across the country to determine what legislative changes would work best in their states.

Texas was the first to repeal its HIV law in 1994.

“As a person living with HIV in Texas, I’m deeply appreciative that we don’t have an HIV-specific statute that puts a target on my back,” said Michael Elizabeth, the public health policy director for the Equality Federation.

But Elizabeth points out that Texans living with HIV still face steeper penalties under general felony laws for charges such as aggravated assault or aggravated sexual assault after state courts in Texas equated the bodily fluids of a person with HIV with a “deadly weapon.”

Louisiana activists have pushed lawmakers in the state to amend the law in three ways: removing the sex offender registration requirement, requiring transmission to have occurred, and requiring clear intent to transmit the virus.

“Our strategy, as opposed to repeal, is to create a law that actually addresses the kind of boogeyman that they ostensibly created the law for: the person who successfully, maliciously, intentionally transmits HIV,” said Dietz with the Louisiana Coalition on Criminalization and Health.

In 2018, a bill to narrow the statute was amended in ways that expanded the law. For example, the updated law no longer had any definition of which actions “expose” someone to HIV.

In 2023, state lawmakers created a task force that recommended updating Louisiana’s law to align with the latest public health guidelines, limit the potential for unintended consequences, and give previously convicted people a way to clear their record.

Lawmakers in the state House pushed forward a bill this year to criminalize other sexually transmitted infections, including hepatitis B and the herpes simplex virus. That bill died in the Senate, but it spurred the creation of another legislative task force with a nearly identical mission to that of the first.

“ This state has no idea how closely we just dodged a bullet,” Dietz said.

In the meantime, the Louisiana coalition is helping Smith petition the state to take his name off the sex offender registry. Louisiana law allows people to petition to have their names removed from the registry after 10 years without any new sex crime convictions. Smith expects his case to be approved by the end of the year.

Despite the difficulty of the past 12 years, he said, he’s grateful for the chance to be free from the registry’s restrictions.

“It’s like a breath of fresh air,” Smith said. “I can do stuff that I wanted to do that I couldn’t. Like, go to a football game. Simple stuff like that, I’m going to be ready to do.”

KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF.

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