Reclaiming Sovereignty: Why the U.S. Exit from the WHO is a Bold Step Forward, and Why Australia and other Nations Should Exit Too, By Brian Simpson

The United States has officially withdrawn from the World Health Organization (WHO) after 77 years of membership, effective January 22, 2026. This move, spearheaded by President Donald Trump through an executive order signed a year prior, marks the end of U.S. involvement in an organisation criticised for incompetence, bias, and overreach. As announced in recent reports, the withdrawal halts all U.S. funding to the WHO and signals a shift toward direct bilateral cooperation with other nations on health matters. Far from a reckless act, this departure is a prudent reclamation of national sovereignty, especially in light of the WHO's dismal handling of the COVID-19 plandemic and the troubling implications of its proposed pandemic treaty. In this discussion, I'll argue that the U.S. exit is not only wise but necessary, and that other countries should follow suit to prioritise decentralised, nation-led collaboration over centralised control that often serves special interests rather than global well-being.

The WHO's COVID-19 Fiasco: A Catalogue of Failures

The COVID-19 pandemic exposed the WHO's profound shortcomings, turning what could have been a coordinated global response into a chaotic ordeal that cost millions of lives and trillions in economic damage. Critics, including U.S. oversight committees, have highlighted how the organisation caved to political pressure from the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), prioritising Beijing's interests over global public health. For instance, the WHO delayed declaring COVID-19 a Public Health Emergency of International Concern, despite evidence of widespread transmission, because it relied on misleading assurances from China that the outbreak was under control. This hesitation allowed the virus to spread unchecked, with the WHO even denying human-to-human transmission early on, echoing CCP narratives.

An independent review panel, commissioned by the WHO itself, described the international response as a "toxic cocktail" of failures, noting that the pandemic was preventable had the organisation acted sooner. Communication breakdowns were rampant: mixed messages on masks, airborne transmission, and the virus's severity, sowed confusion and eroded public trust. During the SARS outbreak in 2003, the WHO openly criticised China's lack of transparency; in contrast, it was "practically sycophantic" toward Beijing during COVID-19, disregarding its own rules to praise the regime. This bias wasn't isolated — studies and reports point to the WHO's servility as a result of underfunding and influence from powerful states, leading to a hollowed-out institution incapable of independent action.

Moreover, the WHO's scientific guidance evolved without rigorous evidence assessment, shifting recommendations on public health measures like lockdowns and vaccines in ways that often seemed politically motivated rather than data-driven. Blame attribution in public discourse evolved from distant entities like China to local non-compliers, but the organisation's role in aiding cover-ups remained a constant thread. These lapses weren't just administrative; they exacerbated global inequalities, with wealthier nations hoarding resources while the WHO's initiatives for equitable vaccine distribution faltered amid "vaccine nationalism." The U.S., as the largest funder, bore much of the financial burden for these failures, making continued membership untenable.

The Pandemic Treaty: A Threat to National Sovereignty

Compounding the WHO's COVID missteps are deep concerns over its proposed pandemic treaty, an accord aimed at enhancing global preparedness but criticised for potentially eroding national autonomy. While proponents argue it's a framework for cooperation, detractors — including U.S. lawmakers and think tanks — warn it could infringe on sovereignty by centralising authority in an unelected bureaucracy. The treaty emphasises "common but differentiated responsibilities," which could mandate resource sharing, intellectual property waivers, and technology transfers during emergencies, often favouring developing nations at the expense of innovators like the U.S. and Australia.

Key worries include the treaty's potential to allow the WHO greater influence over domestic policies, such as surveillance, data sharing, and response measures, without adequate accountability. Although the final text affirmed state sovereignty and explicitly states it grants no authority to the WHO to impose lockdowns, mandates, or directives, critics argue that its aspirational language on equity and cooperation could evolve into binding obligations, pressuring countries to cede control. For example, provisions for a pathogen access and benefit-sharing system might require sharing samples and profits, raising fears of intellectual property erosion. Republican senators have labelled it a "power grab" influenced by China, echoing broader distrust in the WHO's impartiality.

Enforceability is another red flag: Past experiences with the International Health Regulations show limited compliance, yet the treaty's ambitions could create a "futility" where globalism clashes with statism, overburdening the framework without real teeth. The U.S. House even passed legislation to prevent unilateral executive adoption of such a treaty, underscoring sovereignty concerns. In negotiations, incompatible visions of equity and sovereignty stalled progress, with the EU pushing for ambition, while the U.S. and others resisted ceding ground. By exiting, the U.S. avoids entanglement in this web, preserving its ability to innovate and respond independently.

The Case for Decentralised Cooperation: Better than Centralised Overreach

Leaving the WHO doesn't mean isolation; it opens the door to more effective, flexible partnerships. The U.S. has stated it will collaborate directly with other countries on disease surveillance and public health, bypassing the WHO's bureaucracy. This bilateral or multilateral approach — think alliances like the Quad or G7 health initiatives — allows nations to tailor responses to their unique contexts, fostering innovation without the drag of centralised mandates. History shows that decentralised systems, like voluntary coalitions during Ebola outbreaks, can be nimble and effective, avoiding the one-size-fits-all pitfalls of global bodies.

Centralised control, as embodied by the WHO, often amplifies inequalities and political biases. With funding gaps now filled by entities like the Gates Foundation, the organisation risks becoming a "vaccine cartel" proxy, prioritising agendas over sovereignty. Individual nations cooperating ad hoc can share intelligence, resources, and best practices without surrendering authority, promoting accountability and reducing the influence of dominant powers like China.

Why Other Nations Should Follow Suit

The U.S. exit sets a precedent for others disillusioned with the WHO. Countries like the UK, which expressed scepticism during treaty talks, or those in the EU facing internal sovereignty debates, could benefit from reclaiming control. Developing nations, often shortchanged in equitable access promises, might find stronger bilateral deals with powerhouses like the U.S. more reliable. Protests against the treaty as a "UN power grab" reflect widespread unease with centralisation, and exiting could empower a coalition of sovereign states to reform global health from the ground up.

The U.S. withdrawal from the WHO is a wise, forward-thinking move that addresses the organisation's COVID failures and averts the sovereignty risks of its pandemic treaty. By embracing decentralised cooperation, nations can build resilient systems that respect autonomy while tackling threats collaboratively. Other countries should heed this call—true global health thrives on sovereign innovation, not globalist, centralised bureaucratic overreach.

https://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2026/01/its-official-after-77-years-u-s-finally/