Trump's glyphosate executive order splits the right and raises hard questions about liability

President Donald Trump invoked the Defense Production Act in February to boost domestic production of a chemical used to make glyphosate-based herbicides, a move designed to protect America's food supply that has instead ignited a sharp fight inside his own coalition over pesticide safety, corporate immunity, and broken promises on health reform.

The executive order describes elemental phosphorus as a "critical precursor element for the production of glyphosate-based herbicides," which the order calls "the most widely used crop protection tools in the United States" and a "cornerstone" of the country's "agricultural productivity and rural economy." The stated aim: keep American farmers equipped with affordable, effective herbicides so the nation's food system doesn't depend on hostile foreign suppliers.

That framing would normally be an easy sell to conservative voters who prize food security and domestic manufacturing. But the order also carries liability protections for pesticide manufacturers, and that provision has drawn fire from health advocates, Make America Healthy Again activists, and a bipartisan group in Congress now working to reverse it. As Just the News reported, the debate has exposed a fault line between agricultural interests and a growing grassroots demand for accountability from the chemical industry.

What the order does, and doesn't do

The executive order frames glyphosate-based herbicides as essential to national defense and agricultural productivity. It directs expanded domestic production of the precursor chemicals needed to manufacture them, reducing reliance on foreign sources.

Experts cited in the reporting say the order's immunity provision is not a blanket shield. It applies only to acts carried out in compliance with the order itself. But critics argue even a limited shield sends the wrong signal, especially given the legal history surrounding the herbicide's active ingredient.

The company behind the most well-known glyphosate product has already paid out over $11 billion in settlements and recently proposed a $7.25 billion class-action settlement to cover current and future cancer claims. Those numbers alone suggest the liability question is not theoretical. Thousands of plaintiffs have alleged that long-term exposure to glyphosate caused non-Hodgkin's lymphoma and other serious illnesses.

The EPA has long insisted glyphosate is safe when used as directed and that Roundup does not require cancer warnings. That position has been a cornerstone of the pesticide industry's defense in court, and it remains the federal government's official stance.

MAHA backlash catches the White House off guard

The sharpest criticism has come not from the left but from Trump's own health-reform allies. Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who built part of his reputation as an environmental lawyer fighting Monsanto over Roundup and who called glyphosate a likely contributor to America's "chronic disease epidemic" during his 2024 campaign, publicly backed the order. The New York Post reported that Kennedy said in a statement: "Donald Trump's Executive Order puts America first where it matters most, our defense readiness and our food supply."

Kennedy added: "We must safeguard America's national security first. When hostile actors control critical inputs, they weaken our security."

That reversal stunned MAHA-aligned activists who had taken Kennedy at his word when he promised his USDA would ban glyphosate's use as a desiccant on wheat. MAHA Action, the grassroots arm of the movement, acknowledged the frustration in a memo to supporters.

"We know many of you are angry. That anger is understandable, and we share the urgency behind it."

The tension mirrors other moments when Trump's decisions have rattled figures on the right, forcing allies to choose between loyalty and principle.

Republicans break ranks on liability shield

Rep. Thomas Massie, the Kentucky Republican known for his libertarian streak and willingness to buck party leadership, has emerged as the most vocal GOP critic of the order. Massie introduced the No Immunity for Glyphosate Act to strip the liability protections from the executive order.

The Washington Examiner reported Massie's blunt assessment of the situation:

"All three branches of this government is under siege by lobbyists and lawyers from a German company named Bayer."

Massie also stated plainly: "The Feb. 18 executive order expands production of this chemical while granting liability protections to manufacturers." His bill would preserve the production expansion while removing the legal shield, a distinction that matters. Massie is not arguing against domestic herbicide manufacturing. He is arguing against insulating a multinational corporation from the consequences of its product.

A bipartisan group in Congress is pushing in the same direction, working to reverse the immunity provision and ensure that injured Americans retain the right to sue pesticide makers. The specific members of that group have not been publicly identified in full, but the cross-party nature of the effort signals that the liability question cuts across standard partisan lines.

That kind of intraparty tension has become a recurring feature of Trump's second term, as seen in recent clashes over ICE funding where the president pressured Senate Republicans to hold firm on his priorities.

The pesticide industry's playbook

Leah Wilson, head of the nonprofit Stand for Health Freedom, told "Full Measure with Sharyl Attkisson" that the pesticide industry is pressing hard for exemption from liability lawsuits, and that the effort follows a familiar template.

"What if I told you that there's a coordinated effort to stop food reform in the US and that effort is being carried out by the big chemical industry to make sure that they don't lose their market share of the food market?"

Wilson and the reporting draw a direct parallel to the vaccine industry's successful push for liability protection roughly 40 years ago. The National Childhood Vaccine Injury Act of 1986 largely exempted vaccine makers from liability for injuries, including brain damage blamed on the childhood DPT vaccine for diphtheria, pertussis, and tetanus. Wilson argues the pesticide industry is now seeking the same kind of legal insulation, and that granting it would be hazardous to public health.

The comparison is imperfect but instructive. Once an industry secures liability protection from Congress or the executive branch, the incentive to improve product safety diminishes. The vaccine analogy resonates with a large segment of the conservative base that has grown skeptical of corporate-government partnerships that shield powerful companies from accountability.

Prominent MAHA voices have been even more direct. Fox News reported that Kelly Ryerson, co-executive director of American Regeneration, said: "This move betrays the very MAHA voters who put this administration in power." Alex Clark, a podcast host affiliated with Turning Point USA, went further: "The right is captured by Big Glyphosate."

The real question conservatives should be asking

There is nothing wrong with wanting American farmers to have reliable access to effective herbicides. Food security is a legitimate national interest, and reducing dependence on foreign chemical suppliers, particularly adversarial ones, is sound policy. The production side of this executive order makes strategic sense.

The liability side is a different matter entirely. A company that has already paid out more than $11 billion in settlements and faces billions more in pending claims is not a company that needs the federal government to step in and shield it from courtrooms. If glyphosate is as safe as the EPA says, the manufacturers should be able to defend that position before juries. If it isn't, injured Americans deserve their day in court.

The pattern of large industries securing government-granted immunity, whether through legislation, executive action, or regulatory capture, should trouble any conservative who believes in free markets and individual accountability. Markets work when companies bear the costs of their products, including the legal costs. Immunity distorts that equation.

The internal divisions this order has exposed within the Republican coalition are not trivial. They reflect a genuine tension between the party's traditional alliance with business interests and a newer, populist wing that demands the government stop picking winners among corporations at the expense of ordinary people. That tension has surfaced repeatedly, from shakeups inside the administration to primary battles reshaping the party from within.

Several open questions remain. Which specific members of Congress are leading the bipartisan push to reverse the order? How far does the immunity provision actually extend in practice? And will the administration engage with the concerns of its own MAHA base, or dismiss them as noise?

The broader fight over the direction of the Republican Party will play out in races and policy battles for years. But this particular dispute, over whether a German-owned chemical giant deserves a legal shield from American juries, is a test case for whether the populist right means what it says about holding powerful institutions accountable.

Conservatives who spent years arguing that no one is above the law shouldn't go quiet when the beneficiary wears a corporate logo instead of a government badge.