Inside a bustling laboratory at Harvard Medical School, Joan Brugge peers thoughtfully at a row of small jars with pink plastic lids. Each jar holds breast tissue samples—donated by patients after biopsies or surgeries—that could unlock new ways to prevent breast cancer. For Brugge and her team, these samples represent years of painstaking research and hope for the millions affected by the disease. Yet, in 2025, the hum of discovery in her lab slowed to a crawl, not because of scientific setbacks, but due to a sudden freeze on crucial federal funding.
Brugge’s lab, which had been supported by a seven-year, $7 million grant from the National Cancer Institute at the National Institutes of Health (NIH), saw its lifeline abruptly cut off in April 2025. According to NPR, the Trump administration withheld funds from Harvard researchers, citing the university’s handling of antisemitism on campus. The consequences were swift and severe: seven of Brugge’s 18 lab members departed, some leaving the country or the field altogether. "I can't stop just because of these hardships that we're facing now," Brugge told NPR. "We all need to work hard to make a difference for cancer patients and their families. It affects everyone."
The ripple effects of this funding freeze reverberated well beyond Brugge’s lab. Across the United States, the future of federal support for health and science research has grown increasingly uncertain. President Trump’s administration proposed slashing the NIH budget by nearly 40% for the 2026 fiscal year—a move that, if enacted, would represent one of the largest cutbacks in the agency’s history. In a budget message, the White House argued that the "NIH has broken the trust of the American people with wasteful spending, misleading information, risky research, and the promotion of dangerous ideologies that undermine public health."
But Congress had other ideas. As NPR reported, the House budget plan included a modest $48 million increase for the NIH, while the Senate aimed even higher, proposing a $400 million boost, with $150 million earmarked specifically for cancer research. Yet, as of early December 2025, lawmakers remained deadlocked, leaving researchers and patients in limbo.
For Brugge’s team, the funding freeze couldn’t have come at a worse time. In late 2024, their research had reached a breakthrough: they identified specific cells in breast tissue that contained the genetic seeds of breast tumors. Even more striking, these so-called “seed cells” were found in every breast sample examined—including tissue from patients without a history of cancer. The next step, Brugge said, was clear: "find ways to detect, isolate and terminate the mutant cells before they have a chance to spread and form tumors." Yet, with funding in jeopardy and staff departing, that mission was thrown into doubt.
Brugge scrambled to secure private funding from foundations and philanthropists, eventually managing to reinstate two positions for at least a year. Still, job applicants were wary, and the future of the lab remained fragile. She also stopped accepting foreign job applicants, citing a new $100,000 visa fee imposed by the Trump administration. The administration claimed the fee would reduce reliance on foreign workers and improve opportunities for Americans, but organizations like the Association of American Universities and the U.S. Chamber of Commerce challenged the measure as misguided and illegal.
As Brugge’s experience shows, research funding cuts don’t just slow the pace of scientific discovery—they disrupt lives and careers. One of her former staffers, a computational biologist identified as "Y," left the U.S. for Switzerland to continue her work. "I thought the U.S. would be a safe place for scientists to learn and grow," Y told NPR. "I really hope that those who have the opportunities to study this further can fill in those missing pieces in cancer research." Of the seven who left Brugge’s lab, one took a job in health care management, four returned to school, and one was still job-hunting as of late 2025.
Meanwhile, the effects of federal funding cuts have been felt far beyond the walls of elite research institutions. In Louisiana, Emily Woodruff of The Times-Picayune reported on the impact of President Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act, which slashed Medicaid funds and put 33 rural hospitals at risk of closure—the second highest number of threatened hospitals in any U.S. state. Hood Memorial Hospital in Amite, a 25-bed facility, found itself on the brink. For patients like 63-year-old Tim Cowell, who received life-saving care there after collapsing at his son’s graduation, the prospect of closure was dire. The next nearest hospital was more than 45 minutes away—a delay that could mean the difference between life and death in emergencies.
Woodruff’s reporting highlighted how decisions made in Washington ripple through local communities, affecting not just researchers and doctors, but ordinary people relying on timely care. "Being able to go somewhere and just depict a hospital and what it sees and what it does each day was really one of the only ways I felt like I could do that," Woodruff said, reflecting on the challenge of translating budget numbers into real-life consequences.
Journalists across the country have faced the challenge of covering the fallout from decimated health and science funding. According to The Open Notebook, reporters have turned to Senate reports, Department of Health and Human Services databases, and other sources to track canceled grants and crippled programs. They’ve also sought to humanize the numbers, telling stories of patients, researchers, and communities left vulnerable by shifting fiscal priorities.
Experts warn that the long-term impact of funding cuts could be profound. Mark Fleury of the American Cancer Society told NPR that federally funded research has played a major role in reducing the cancer death rate by 34% since the early 1990s. But, he cautioned, "there are still cancer types that are fairly lethal, and there are still populations of people for whom their experience of cancer is vastly different from other groups." A projection from the Congressional Budget Office warned that a 10% cut to the NIH budget would eventually result in two fewer new drugs or treatments per year. And a recent study found that more than half of FDA-approved drugs developed since 2000 might never have reached the market if the NIH had operated with a 40% smaller budget.
The stakes are high not just for the U.S., but for global science. Cuts to U.S. agencies like the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) have had ripple effects abroad, undermining weather forecasting in countries like Argentina, as reported by La Nación. In Brazil, disproportionate cuts to biodiversity research threaten efforts to protect the Amazon, according to SciDev.Net.
For Brugge, the uncertainty has become a constant companion. She now spends much of her time searching for new funding and managing her team’s anxieties, rather than focusing on the science that could save lives. "There'll always be, now, this existential threat to the research," she said. "I will definitely be concerned because we don't know what's going to happen in the future that might trigger a similar kind of action." Yet, when she looks at those pink-lidded jars, she still sees promise—and a reason to keep going, despite the odds.
