The World Health Organisation should serve as a steadfast lifeline in the global fight against infectious diseases. But budget cuts, internal restructuring, and bureaucratic hurdles, along with an increasing focus on non-communicable diseases and initiatives like the recently launched ‘Ageism Scale,’ suggest a troubling shift in priorities.
Meanwhile, countries still grappling with malaria, tuberculosis, and fragile health systems are left to wonder: has the WHO lost sight of its core mission?
Ageism, along with non-communicable diseases, is a real issue. However, when the WHO allocates limited resources to a nuanced sociological tool while simultaneously slashing budgets, it sends a confusing message to member states still grappling with deadly, preventable diseases.
This is not the WHO’s first misfire. Its recent efforts to tackle non-communicable diseases, while well-intentioned, have often fallen flat. Take obesity. In 2016, the WHO endorsed soft drink taxes to curb sugar consumption. But the campaign faced strong resistance from the beverage industry and even the US government, which blocked global recommendations on sugar taxes. For developing countries where cholera, TB, and malaria are still major killers, these debates can feel like a distant echo from another planet. They have the right to ask who’s really pulling the strings behind the WHO’s already skewed priorities.
This isn’t just about tone-deaf decision-making. It cuts to the core of what the WHO is supposed to be: a global health agency with a mandate to help all people reach the highest possible level of health, as stated in its constitution. Historically, that meant going all-in on communicable disease control. The WHO helped drive down polio rates. It coordinated the fight against HIV/AIDS. It provided technical support where no one else would. In places without robust public health systems, that kind of focus isn’t just helpful – it’s life-saving.
But the shift away from that life-saving focus isn’t just a matter of changing priorities. The root of the problem is how the WHO gets its money. Over 80% of its budget comes from voluntary contributions, most of which are earmarked by donor governments, foundations, and private actors. That means the WHO only has real control over about 20% of its funds.
In addition, each year, the organisation juggles over a thousand individually managed grants, all with strings attached. Instead of setting its own priorities based on urgent global health needs, the WHO often chases donor-driven agendas like climate change, mental health, or ageing. This funding structure has turned the organisation into a patchwork of disconnected initiatives, often far removed from the pressing challenges faced by its most vulnerable member states.
But even if the funding model were fixed, structural problems would remain. The WHO’s six regional offices operate with wide autonomy, often answering more to local governments than to Geneva. Some critics say it functions less like one global agency and more like seven separate ones. This disconnect doesn’t just slow decision-making – it weakens the WHO’s ability to lead fast, coordinated responses to infectious disease outbreaks. During the 2014 Ebola crisis, for instance, regional delays contributed to a disastrously late emergency declaration. For countries still battling deadly diseases, that kind of paralysis is devastating.
This drift isn’t just inefficient. It’s politically dangerous. When countries in the Global South feel sidelined, they look elsewhere for support. That weakens the WHO’s authority and credibility as a coordinating body. In a world where pandemic threats don’t stop at borders, that kind of fragmentation puts everyone at risk.
This isn’t a call to abandon broader health concerns. But mission creep, especially during a financial squeeze, can erode the very foundations which made the WHO effective in the first place. The near-eradication of polio and past progress against HIV/AIDS happened not because the WHO tried to do everything, but because it focused on what mattered most: stopping disease and saving lives.
To restore that clarity, both member states and donors must take a hard look at how their money shapes outcomes. Future funding should come with strings of its own, firmly tied to the WHO’s core mission: combatting infectious diseases, responding to health emergencies, and supporting fragile health systems. The path forward is simple, but politically uncomfortable. It requires resisting donor-driven pet projects that play well in high-income countries but often miss the mark for those facing the gravest health threats.
If donors truly care about global health, they must fund what the world needs, not just what aligns with their domestic agendas. And if the WHO wants to remain a trusted force for good, it must reclaim its roots and lead with clarity.
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Irakli Machaidze is a political writer, analytical journalist and fellow with Young Voices Europe. Irakli is currently based in Vienna, Austria, pursuing advanced studies in International Relations. He specialises in EU policy and regional security in Europe.