Following the government shutdown, the National Institutes of Health returned to near-normal grant rates in early 2026, offering cautious optimism across the scientific community. That relief was understandable — but premature.
By March, funding slowed considerably, and FY2026 new awards dropped sharply compared to the prior five-year average: 63% fewer overall, including 61% fewer of the NIH’s most prestigious RO1 grants.
This lack of consistent funding imposes serious constraints on research institutions, training programs and the scientists working within them. As delays persist, institutions face hiring freezes, disrupted timelines and growing uncertainty for early-career researchers. The downstream effects — on patients, communities and the broader public health system — are only beginning to surface, and they will not be evenly felt.
As a graduate student and neurodevelopmental researcher at Wayne State University, I am compelled to speak up.
When funding disappears, data collection stops. Clinical trials — including those involving patients with no other treatment options — are cancelled mid-enrollment. Research teams’ dissolve. Careers stall. Ph.D. programs lose the funding needed to train future scientists, shrinking the pipeline before it can grow.
The economic consequences are just as stark. In 2025, every dollar of NIH funding generated roughly $2.57 in economic activity. When a $6 million grant is terminated after $4 million has already been spent, the government does not save $2 million; it wastes $4 million, discards years of work and abandons the communities meant to benefit.
The mental health implications are equally serious. Federal funding supports the clinical trials that produce new treatments for depression, PTSD, psychosis and addiction. It also sustains community mental health services for underserved populations. Withholding funds is not an abstract budget decision. It means longer waitlists, fewer resources and reduced access to care for people who need it most.
I believe it is incumbent upon students, like me, to speak up and advocate on behalf of science.Journalism matters. Public attention matters. But neither replaces sustained, ground-level pressure that shifts policy. Student advocates bring long-term stakes and visible human impact. Today’s trainees are tomorrow’s clinicians, researchers and public health leaders.
Government appropriations bills determine how much funding reaches scientific discovery. Those decisions shape whether new treatments are developed, whether clinics stay open and whether research careers remain viable. Advocacy is not a distraction from science. It is a condition for its survival.There is a persistent myth that advocacy requires expertise or extensive time. It doesn’t. If you have an hour a month, you can follow science policy organizations or join a campus advocacy group. If you can do more, writing or calling representatives to share experiences is helpful. Legislators consistently report that constituent communication influences how they engage with policy.
There is no version of this moment where silence is neutral. If scientists and trainees do not advocate for the conditions that make science possible, no one else will do it with the same urgency or authority. We are the ones who understand what a cancelled clinical trial costs a real patient. We are the ones who have watched colleagues leave for more stable environments. We are the ones who see what happens when communities lose public health infrastructure.That knowledge is not just valuable; it’s necessary.
The future of research — and the people who depend on it — will be shaped by those willing to speak for it.
Natalie Thurston is a research assistant in Wayne State University’s THINK lab.
This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: Science needs student advocates now more than ever | Opinion
Reporting by Natalie Thurston, Holland Sentinel / The Holland Sentinel
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