The Atlantic’s essay about measles was gut-wrenching. Some readers feel deceived.
Media ethicists and physicians are concerned that the account featuring real science but made-up child characters and a disclaimer at the end crosses a line, and could harm the vaccine cause.

When Kelly McBride read Elizabeth Bruenig’s essay in the Atlantic about a child’s death from measles complications, she was moved and quickly shared the story on her Facebook account. She hadn’t realized that Bruenig’s family had been ravaged by virus and the well-known journalist had lost a child.
McBride, a media ethicist and senior vice president at the Poynter Institute, also didn’t realize the story was a hypothetical scenario — and the child a composite character based on the author’s research — until a friend alerted her to an editor’s note at the bottom of the story. Then, McBride felt duped.
“I feel deceived,” McBride said. “I spent all weekend talking about this story to my friends as if the reporter had experienced it.”
Bruenig’s stirring account of a mother’s experience learning her child will die of the long-term effects of measles has remained one of the Atlantic’s most read stories since it was published Thursday, receiving more than 700 comments. Written in the second person, some readers have called the essay a visceral and gut-wrenching exposé of the human impacts of the measles epidemic.
It has also generated controversy. Readers and media experts have condemned the story as breeching journalistic ethics by informing the reader that the story is fictionalized through a short editor’s note at the end of the 3,000-word essay. Some public health experts argued the story was a dangerous writing exercise that could evoke backlash and confusion as vaccine skepticism hits an all-time high across the country.
“Grateful to @ebruenig for sharing her and her family’s ordeal,” Gabby Stern, a former World Health Organization communications director, wrote on X shortly after the story published. “Friends, please ensure that your children receive vaccinations against preventable diseases like measles.”
She followed up soon after: “I missed the disclaimer at the bottom. Others did, too. You get to the end and you’re shattered, not looking for caveats and fine print. Disappointed in the magazine. The topic is too high-stakes for such shenanigans.”
Adrienne LaFrance, executive editor at the Atlantic, told The Washington Post in a statement that the magazine was “pleased that so many people are reading and praising Liz’s remarkable essay.”
“We trust our readers to understand all different kinds of writing and writerly devices,” she said. “And while we included a note about Liz’s methods for transparency’s sake, we’re finding that most readers already understand the second-person well enough to know that the ‘you’ referenced throughout the piece is not literally ‘you,’ the reader.”
The Atlantic, one of the most popular American magazines with 1.4 million subscribers, has become a destination for health reporting in recent years. The Atlantic is among a cohort of outlets that have reported on rising measles cases across the United States, as well as the role that misinformation and shifting government guidelines have on childhood vaccinations. Once eliminated in the country, outbreaks have led to the highest count of measles cases in more than three decades. Atlantic staff writer Tom Bartlett was first to find and interview the parents of a child who died of measles in Texas, the first such death in a decade.
Bruenig, a former Post opinion writer, has twice been a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for feature writing, one of the industry’s top honors for narrative journalism. (This reporter worked for the Atlantic from 2017 to 2019.)
Bruenig wrote the essay in the second person, detailing a scenario where two unvaccinated children attend a birthday party and catch measles from an infected-but-asymptomatic child. “Your daughter behaves normally over the next week while the virus slowly spreads inside her, infecting immune cells that carry it to the lymph nodes, where it replicates and spreads at a rapid pace.”
It includes a short disclaimer at the bottom of the 3,000-word piece: “This story is based on extensive reporting and interviews with physicians, including those who have cared directly for patients with measles.”
Reported hypotheticals have been used in other grim chronicles such as Outside Magazine’s 1997 story “Frozen Alive,” about freezing to death; a passage of Kathryn Schulz’s 2015 New Yorker essay “The Really Big One” about the risks of a large earthquake; and the 2024 Annie Jacobsen book “Nuclear War: A Scenario,” about how nuclear warfare could transpire. The first two stories also are written in second person.
Many readers, including physicians, praised the Atlantic essay, writing that its evocative writing and storytelling forced readers to grapple with the impact of vaccine hesitancy. “Read this while holding my almost-one-month-old, and it absolutely wrecked me. What a powerful and important piece,” one commenter wrote. “Tragically realistic story exquisitely described by Ms. Breunig,” wrote another. “I’m a pediatrician who has never seen a case of measles but am awaiting my first one.”
Others, however, expressed their confusion in the essay’s comments. “The fact that readers in the discussion are unsure of whether this is a true story or fiction highlights a fundamental failure on the part of the author, and the editor,” one reader wrote.
“I know the internet is full of made up stuff, but I trusted the Atlantic,” another reader wrote. “I feel foolish that I told my husband about this as if it were the truth. Glad I didn’t share it with my sisters. We are all pro vaccines, and I’m concerned this story masquerading as a first person memoir will encourage people on the edge to blow off vaccines.”
Tom Rosenstiel, a professor at University of Maryland’s Philip Merrill College of Journalism and former executive director of the American Press Institute, felt the piece did the reader a disservice by not being fully transparent about they were about to read. He said the Atlantic needed to clearly explain the unusual choices in the story upfront, avoiding deception.
“Any time you’re answering questions about why you did something in the story after you’ve published it, you’re in a bad place,” he said.
Some physicians argued the uncertainty around the essay could fan distrust of vaccines. Angela Rasmussen, a virologist at the University of Saskatchewan who edits the journal “Vaccine,” said she found the essay scientifically sound but extremely confusing. She initially believed the essay was about Bruenig’s real child and felt the essay could backfire. “We need effective communicators like this,” she said. “But if that effective communication is being presented in such a way that it actually diminishes trust further, then we’re in real trouble.”
Rachael Bedard, a physician and writer, called herself an admirer of Bruenig, but expressed similar concerns in a series of posts on X.
“One of the things that people who have actually interacted [with] anti-vaxxers know is that they often think the liberal media is lying to them about how bad measles is,” she wrote, writing that the Atlantic’s presentation of this essay as anything other than fiction “affirms all of those concerns.”
Bruenig, in an interview with the website Nieman Lab, defended the structure of her essay. “It is a hypothetical account of a very real phenomenon based on careful reporting,” she said. “I would place it somewhere on the creative nonfiction spectrum.” She said that she interviewed doctors for her piece, and based the character of the mother on herself.
“I have no doubt that there are a lot of people out there who are unhappy with the story or reject its premises, and they are entitled to their interpretations. I get it,” she said. “But my job is to report the truth about the world — and I use all kinds of literary, and narrative devices to do that. I do it because telling the truth is important in its own right, whether or not anyone finds it persuasive.”