A year that shook the foundations of federal research: 5 UW professors share their stories
Imagine being on the cusp of a groundbreaking discovery, only to have your progress halted by political upheaval. This is the reality faced by Avtar Roopra, a neuroscientist at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Just over a year ago, Roopra's lab made a remarkable finding: an arthritis drug could potentially stop epileptic seizures in mice. With a $4 million grant nearly spent and a highly rated proposal for more funding, clinical trials for human patients seemed imminent. But then, President Donald Trump's second term began, and the landscape of federal research funding underwent a dramatic transformation.
The impact of these changes is felt acutely at UW-Madison, a flagship university that received nearly $1 billion from the federal government in 2024, ranking it among the top 15 nationally. Every corner of the campus, from the medical school to the engineering college, has been affected. White House spokesman Kush Desai defends the Trump administration's cuts, claiming they are aimed at left-wing projects masquerading as scientific research and restoring confidence in science and public health agencies.
However, the numbers tell a different story. UW-Madison has declined to estimate its losses, but a left-leaning think tank estimates the university lost between $18 million and $21 million in federal grants. The federal government has issued stop-work orders or terminated 143 grants, with only 43 reinstated due to ongoing litigation. Even researchers like Roopra, whose work hasn't been directly cut, are suffering from the uncertainty. He describes feeling stressed and anxious, unable to sleep or read the news.
"There's a pall over the workplace," Roopra said. "It's palpable."
The administration's actions have also ended international research collaborations, including a promising project with a French university on predicting epileptic seizures. Roopra's lab has already lost one scientist, and his lab manager faces potential layoffs this spring. If funding doesn't materialize this year, there's a real risk his lab may shut down.
"We're not studying some minuscule problem, some esoteric problem of biology," Roopra said. "We've found ourselves in a position to make a difference to tens of millions of people around the world. It's a unique position, and to not be able to push that forward is devastating. Absolutely devastating."
The impact of these funding cuts extends beyond individual labs. J. Michael Collins, a UW-Madison professor of consumer and personal finance, has experienced research cuts before. The Obama administration terminated one of his projects on financial literacy for ideological reasons, but at least he was allowed to finish existing projects. The Trump administration, however, took a different approach, abruptly shutting down Retirement and Disability Research Centers across the country, including the one Collins led at UW-Madison.
The Social Security Administration cited concerns about waste, fraud, and research relative to diversity, equity, and inclusion. The financial impact on UW-Madison was significant, with a $3.8 million loss for 2025 alone and future awards through 2028 cancelled. Collins spent the next 10 months filing appeals and supporting affected researchers, including three staff members who received layoff notices but found other jobs at the university.
Nearly 20 research projects ended, with a few allowed to continue on a smaller scale. Many of the terminated studies focused on how vulnerable populations, such as children, older adults in poverty, and people with disabilities, rely on Social Security programs. With Social Security facing insolvency in less than a decade, these topics are more critical than ever. Collins doubts the agency itself will have the capacity to conduct research at the level the centers did.
"We're going to be making a lot of decisions based on hunches and guesses," Collins said. Policymakers may ask questions like, "What's the right age for a program's benefits to begin?" and only have one or two studies to refer to instead of ten.
Collins worries that researchers will shy away from studies with real-world impact, fearing their work may be defunded if someone in government disagrees with it. He's personally looking to the state and private sector for future project funding, but he acknowledges the increased competition and the fact that it takes twice the effort to get half the funding.
Early-career researchers, like assistant professor Callie Freitag, are also deeply affected. Freitag expected much of her funding to come from the now-closed research center, and she describes feeling like her career map was set on fire. Now, she must draw a new, less defined map for herself.
Katie Eklund, an education professor, has also had her work defunded by the Trump administration. She launched a program to increase the number of school psychologists and counselors in Wisconsin, where school districts report 60 to 80 of these jobs going unfilled each year. Eklund used a federal grant to pay students' tuition and living stipends while they trained in a Madison school, with the commitment to work in high-need school districts for three years after graduation.
The U.S. Education Department canceled more than half of the $6 million grant, citing concerns about the program's recruitment of diverse students. With more than half of K-12 public school students being students of color, Eklund emphasizes the importance of mental health professionals reflecting the populations they serve. The grant reviewers even awarded more points to proposals promising to recruit students from non-traditional backgrounds.
The grant termination left 19 students without funding for the spring semester. UW-Madison provided "bridge" funding for them to continue training this semester, but Eklund worries about how her students will finish the next two years. Some have taken on second jobs, while others have taken out additional loans.
Eklund has spent hours on the phone with lawyers from UW-Madison and the state Department of Justice, providing testimony on the harm caused. Wisconsin and 15 other states have challenged the grant terminations in court, and the case is ongoing.
"It's hard to not have answers," she said.
Andrew Mehle, a virology professor at UW-Madison, considers himself lucky. A batch of his grants was approved just before the second Trump administration began, ensuring his lab is funded for the next few years. However, he did lose funding for one of his students when a grant aimed at diversifying the scientific workforce was not renewed. Mehle put the student on a different project to ensure they could continue working in his lab.
Mehle wishes there were a wider understanding of the scientific process. He emphasizes that no researcher feels entitled to grant money and presents a PowerPoint to students in his lab each year, explaining their duty to use taxpayer money wisely and efficiently.
Mehle has witnessed colleagues at UW-Madison and elsewhere lay off people in their labs, with some groups shrinking by 30% to 40% in just a year. He worries that the scientific community is reaching a critical tipping point and may be unable to recover.
"How long can we tread water? How long can we last? The answer is now."
The stories of these UW professors highlight the profound impact of political decisions on scientific research and the potential consequences for society as a whole. It raises questions about the future of research funding, the role of government in supporting scientific endeavors, and the potential loss of critical knowledge and innovation.