“What do you do again?” I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how to answer this question succinctly. Just two years ago, I could say, “I teach high-school algebra,” and of course, most people would have a general idea of what my life was like: high stress but summers off, a pitiful salary, and managing moody teenagers (while also witnessing some of their most creative moments and awesome achievements).
This question is more difficult to answer since I’ve moved from Lucedale to Auburn, though. I’m often tempted to explain how studying the genomes of turtles may help us better protect endangered or threatened species or eventually lead to insights into human fertility due to genes we share with our animal cousins. Something like, “I study turtle DNA using supercomputers” is usually enough to get people talking about something else.
Beyond small talk, though, there is a more important question that I sometimes wish people would ask: “Why do you do what you do, and why should I care?”
I’m a graduate-student researcher at Auburn University. I spend one-third of my time taking classes, one-third of my time teaching biology courses during the school year, and one-third of my time on biological research. That last one sometimes eludes people. For me, however, this is where that “Why should I care?” question matters most. Most people have a vague idea about what scientists do, but I’ve come to realize that they often don’t see the impact that scientific research has on their livelihoods and communities. Recent slashes to federal funding for science have made this realization all the more concrete.
The research partnership between the federal government and universities in the U.S. started in the defense sector. Engineer Vannevar Bush, who was the director of the Office of Scientific Research during World War II, worked on the Manhattan Project. Concerned with post-war budget cuts to science, Bush drafted a report encouraging President Harry Truman to support government funding for scientific Research and Development. In his report, he named R&D “a pacemaker of progress,” believing scientific research to be the heartbeat of American security and prosperity.
His views apparently resonated with policymakers. In the following years, the U.S. created several agencies that still exist today: the National Science Foundation in 1950; the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, better known as NASA, in 1958; and the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency in 1958. Additionally, the National Institutes of Health transformed from a relatively small lab into a driving force for scientific advancements in biomedicine.
In the following decades, federally funded research launched us to the moon (and beyond), sparked the creation of MRI technologies, accelerated the development of treatments for cancer, and helped unravel mysteries of genetics by sequencing the human genome. Such a boom in innovation makes it easy to see how returns on investment in R&D are thought to be higher than any other federal investments in the U.S., all while occupying less than 4% of the country’s total economic output. Anyone who has used GPS, read a weather forecast, received a vaccine, or eaten U.S.-grown produce has experienced the long-lasting benefits of federally funded R&D.
Today, funding for R&D is in jeopardy. Executive actions have led to the termination of nearly 1,500 NSF grants (over half of which were led by female researchers and researchers from racial minority backgrounds), and in late April, staff at NSF were told to “stop awarding all funding until further notice.”
Freely accessible web pages published by federal science agencies are being censored or deleted entirely. Agency workforces are being slashed. NSF is even screening grant proposals for controversial words like “women,” “historically,” “diverse,” and “institutional.” The current administration proposes some of the largest cuts to R&D in U.S. history and could cost the U.S. $10 billion, saving taxpayers a grand total of zilch in the long run.
In a recent Washington Post op-ed, U.S. Sen. Todd Young, R-Indiana, dispelled this idea that R&D funding is a handout to academics. Many believe these cuts exclusively target Ivy League universities or ideologues, but this isn’t true. Mississippi, for instance, has lost millions in science funding so far and is poised to lose tens of millions more for biomedical research from NIH alone.
Some proposed cuts hit a little closer to home. The Mississippi-Alabama Sea Grant Consortium, a federal-state partnership established by NOAA in 1972 to support the Gulf Coast through research, is at risk of total elimination.
“Can’t private industry just fill in the gaps?” people ask. In applied research, maybe. The pure free market, however, often fails to fund basic, foundational research. Of course, important innovations come from the private sector as well, but the immediate results of academic research are often dramatically undervalued. Returns are often not realized for several years. In this area, the free market simply cannot bear the burden.
Government-backed research is also vital to our national security. In his op-ed, Young pointed out that China now spends 16 times what it did in the year 2000 on research and is now second only to the U.S. in total spending. This comes as the U.S. proposes slashing R&D to levels not seen in decades and as other countries prepare to scoop early-career U.S. researchers by offering competitive funding. Moreover, Europe and Canada are rushing to clear the path for jaded U.S. scientists and graduate students to flock to their universities.
With new frontiers of exploration and innovation on the horizon, the U.S. can’t afford to lose momentum. Curiosity-driven research is vital to fueling discoveries that improve our livelihoods, especially for those research topics that seem “silly” at first glance. Sure, there is some fraud and wasteful spending, but in these cases, the scalpel is far superior to the chainsaw.
Beyond imposing needless limitations on scientific progress, these attacks on scientific funding are personal. I’m a Mississippi native and a proud product of George County public schools. I’m always met with a little bit of surprise when I tell other scientists that I’m from Mississippi, something that sounds a lot more like a confession than a conversation starter. With these cuts disproportionately affecting under-represented groups (including those of us from rural America), broadening participation in science is sure to suffer.
If the U.S. abandons its commitment to scientific R&D, our state schools and research hospitals will be the biggest casualties, not just the Ivy League. As we shape our future through policies and elections, we must remember the things that have made America great in the first place.
Historically, the U.S. has proven to be a goliath in scientific achievement, and these achievements have served society, often unknown to the public. We must rediscover our relentless pursuit of discovery.
This MFP Voices opinion essay reflects the personal opinion of its author(s). The column does not necessarily represent the views of the Mississippi Free Press, its staff or board members. To submit an opinion for the MFP Voices section, send up to 1,200 words and sources fact-checking the included information to voices@mississippifreepress.org. We welcome a wide variety of viewpoints.