Dr. Oz shares Trump's unconventional take on diet soda and cancer

Dr. Mehmet Oz, the administrator of the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, went on Donald Trump Jr.'s "Triggered" podcast and offered a window into President Trump's dietary habits, including the 79-year-old commander in chief's personal theory that diet soda might fight cancer because it kills grass.

The anecdote landed with a mix of laughter and bemusement. But behind the lighthearted exchange sits a genuine tension at the heart of the Make America Healthy Again movement: the administration's top health officials are pushing Americans away from processed food while the president himself remains an unapologetic fan of fast food and sugary drinks.

Oz, 65, described a routine that plays out during meetings he attends alongside Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. in the Oval Office. As the New York Post reported, Oz told Trump Jr. that his father starts meetings with candy bars, then hits the famous red button on the Resolute Desk to summon a diet soda.

"Then comes the diet soda pops, which your dad argues that diet soda is good for him because it kills grass [when] it's poured on grass, so therefore, it must kill cancer cells inside the body."

That was Oz's account of the president's reasoning, delivered with what sounded like equal parts amusement and exasperation.

An orange soda on Air Force One

The diet soda story wasn't the only dietary reveal. Oz recounted a recent encounter aboard Air Force One. Trump had called him in to discuss something, and when Oz walked in, he found an orange soft drink sitting on the president's desk, reportedly a Fanta.

Oz told Trump Jr. he reacted bluntly:

"I said, 'Are you kidding me.'"

Trump's response, as Oz described it, was a sheepish grin followed by a familiar refrain. Oz recounted the exchange on the podcast:

"So he starts to sheepishly grin. He goes, 'You know, this stuff is good for me, it kills cancer cells.' And then he tells me, 'It's fresh squeezed, so how bad could it be for you?'"

Trump Jr. laughed at the story but offered a defense of his father's broader intentions. He credited the president for wanting Americans to make informed choices, even if Trump himself doesn't follow the strictest regimen.

"I think even if he's not going to adhere to a perfect diet himself, I think he wants people to at least have the knowledge."

The Make America Healthy Again contradiction

Kennedy and Oz have positioned themselves as the administration's top crusaders in the Make America Healthy Again movement, pushing Americans to ditch processed foods and improve their diets. The Washington Examiner noted that Oz has previously discussed Trump's unusually unhealthy eating habits, and both Oz and Kennedy have at various points raised concerns about the president's food choices.

Yet the president's love of fast food is no secret and never has been. Trump worked at a McDonald's for a day during the 2024 campaign. Shortly after his 2024 election victory, he posed alongside Kennedy and other allies with McDonald's meals aboard his private plane. And more recently, he ordered McDonald's delivered to the White House on a Monday via DoorDash.

The gap between the movement's message and the president's personal menu is wide enough to drive a delivery truck through. But it doesn't appear to bother Trump, and his allies seem content to treat it as an endearing quirk rather than a policy problem.

This is hardly the first time questions about Trump's health and fitness have surfaced in public conversation. The president's diet has been a recurring subject since long before he took office the first time.

What the doctors actually say

Oz examined Trump during the 2016 campaign cycle, back when Oz was still a television doctor. His assessment from that era was flattering.

"He was in perfect health. I mean his testosterone, quite frankly, was through the roof not taking any supplements."

Kennedy offered his own colorful take earlier this year on "The Katie Miller Podcast":

"He has the constitution of a deity. I don't know how he is alive."

That last line captures the paradox neatly. Trump's own health officials marvel at his physical resilience while openly questioning the fuel he runs on. The medical community, meanwhile, generally views diet soda as unhealthy. Some research has linked it to weight gain and insulin resistance, which can lead to Type 2 diabetes.

None of that research supports the idea that diet soda kills cancer cells. Trump's theory, that if a substance kills grass, it must also kill cancer, is not a claim any mainstream medical authority has endorsed. But the president has never pretended to be a nutritionist, and his supporters have long admired his refusal to conform to the lifestyle expectations that Washington's professional class imposes on everyone else.

The administration's broader healthcare agenda has focused on slashing drug costs and reforming federal health programs, areas where Oz, as CMS administrator, has direct authority. Whether the president's personal habits undermine the credibility of the Make America Healthy Again brand is a question his critics will keep raising.

Fast food, candy bars, and the Oval Office

Oz's account paints a vivid picture of the Oval Office routine: candy bars first, then the red button, then the diet soda. It's a far cry from the kale smoothies and organic meal plans that dominated the previous administration's public image. But Trump has never been interested in performing wellness for the cameras.

His political opponents have tried for years to turn his eating habits into a line of attack against him and his family. It hasn't worked. Voters who sent Trump back to the White House knew exactly what they were getting, a president who eats McDonald's, drinks Diet Coke, and doesn't apologize for either.

The podcast exchange between Oz and Trump Jr. was lighthearted. Nobody treated the cancer theory as a serious medical claim. Even Oz, who clearly disagrees with the president's dietary choices, framed the story with affection rather than alarm.

And that may be the most telling detail. The people closest to Trump, his son, his CMS administrator, his HHS secretary, all acknowledge his eating habits are unconventional at best. They joke about it publicly. They shake their heads. And then they go back to work on the policy agenda, because the president's job performance matters more than his lunch order.

Public figures from athletes to entertainers have backed Trump precisely because he comes across as a regular person who happens to hold the most powerful office on earth. The diet soda theory won't change that.

Washington will always find something to clutch its pearls over. A president who thinks Fanta is "fresh squeezed" is good for a laugh, but it's not a scandal, and it's not a crisis. The real test of this administration is what it does with policy, not what it orders from the galley on Air Force One.