What happens then?

The practical consequences of losing a country’s commitment to science

André Malraux was a French novelist whose most durable contribution was perhaps his decade as France’s minister of cultural affairs in the 1960s. Malraux was convinced of the importance of promoting French culture among the masses and, during his tenure in the ministry, made his hallmark the restoration of older national landmarks such as art galleries, museums, and older French villages that had fallen into disrepair. During a period of time marked by postwar reconstruction and enormous pulls on national resources, Malraux argued — successfully in the main — for the importance of culture at the heart of the very idea of France, a theme built on his writing, particularly “The Psychology of Art.” The result of this work is a country whose cultural heritage lies at the heart of its identity. And, that identity has enormous practical implications for the well-being of the country. France is by far the world’s most visited country, with nearly 100 million annual tourists, contributing about 10% to the country’s GDP. That culture is now unquestionably central to the country’s national ideal is validation of Malraux’s approach to lean into the country’s strength — in this case, its cultural heritage — and to use that very advantage to make the country better.

And this brings us to the current state in the U.S., where a core national idea as core to the country as culture is to France — the United States’ preeminence in research and innovation — is being threatened by challenges to funding by the current federal administration. And it brings us to the question of, what do we really stand to lose if we lose science as the heart of our idea of ourselves?

There is no question that the U.S. has led in this area now for decades. The nation’s global dominance in science and research has been underpinned by its substantial federal investment in research and development (R&D). In fiscal year 2023, federal R&D spending totaled approximately $190 billion, with the National Institutes of Health (NIH), National Science Foundation (NSF), and Department of Energy (DOE) among the largest funders. This investment has consistently outpaced that of any other single country, with the U.S. accounting for about 27% of total global R&D spending — surpassing China (22%) and the European Union (17%). The robustness of this federal funding ecosystem has allowed the U.S. to lead in basic science, biomedical innovation, and technological breakthroughs, with federal dollars catalyzing private-sector R&D, particularly in biotechnology and computing. This public-private synergy has helped make the U.S. a global hub for innovation, intellectual leadership, and scientific training, drawing talent from around the world and anchoring its leadership in health, defense, energy, and space exploration.

So what happens if we stop funding scientific discovery? A disinvestment in research and academia means a loss of innovation and entrepreneurial spirit, and an undermining of the national aspiration that has made the U.S. a leader in global progress. It means giving up on a national idea, ceding it to other nations more interested in scientific research than the present U.S. leadership. What does this mean in the context of international competition? What might it mean for the world if the U.S. is no longer the country most invested in making sure the future is one of progress? Three thoughts on these questions.

First, when we no longer support science in the U.S., it makes sense that scientists may seek opportunities abroad and that other countries will see value in trying to attract them. This undercuts our ability to drive progress and innovation, while giving an edge to the countries that choose to welcome the scientists we have excluded. History provides many examples of countries closing their doors to classes of skilled professionals who then went elsewhere, leaving their countries of origin less optimized for success culturally, economically, and in the context of international competition. In the learning-from-history category, the expulsion of Jews from Spain in 1492 — in addition to being a tragedy for the affected populations — was a cultural, economic, and intellectual disaster for Spain, as the country lost many skilled citizens who were making significant contributions to Spanish society.

Progress is also, of course, desirable for its own sake. We should want to be the kind of country that supports scientific progress because such progress is, fundamentally, a public good. The future is won by those whose values support such goods, who are committed to a vision of progress not just because it is expedient in the context of global competition, but because it is “what is next,” because human beings, as a species, have never stood still, have always reached for a vision of progress, and in reaching, made the world better.

Second, when we no longer support science, we risk losing the moral authority with which we have exercised global leadership. Such leadership is not just about engaging with and exerting power. It is about setting an example that others choose to follow. One of the reasons the U.S. was able to gain an advantage during the Cold War was because it could make a compelling case to the world that it stood for democracy, freedom, and human rights and that the Soviet Union was undermining these values in the name of an ideology and a system that was oppressive and, ultimately, unworkable.

In the present moment, showing leadership means demonstrating to the world that we support science, that we value the lives and health of all people, not just those who live within our borders, and that in our pursuit of our national interest we do not tip into blind self-interest. Just as our cultural exports constitute an essential form of “soft power” in the game of global competition, our willingness to live by our best values on the world stage is core to our capacity to build the alliances and coalitions that position us — and the rest of the world — for success in the future.

Third, solving global challenges will take the entire world working together, with all countries at their best — and being at one’s national best means funding science. The key challenges of the moment — such as climate change, the disruptive effects of new technologies such as AI, and the ever-present threat of nuclear war — cannot be solved by a single country, no matter how powerful it is. They require effort on the part of all nations working together toward the common goal of a sustainable human future. For this effort to succeed, all countries should be operating at their highest capacity — by investing in science, by opening their arms to the world and those who wish to contribute to their intellectual ecosystem.

In the 21^st century, we should aspire to a vision where we all win, toward building a better future for ourselves and our children. And that rests on a vision of ourselves with science at our core. This is only possible when we lead with our best values, working together to generate the knowledge that helps us imagine a way out of zero-sum competition and into a future of abundance, peace, and health.

And, unfortunately, there is abundant evidence of countries rushing in to fill the vacuum being left by the U.S. withdrawal from this area. In June, Nature reported that Chinese officials at the local, national, and provincial level have begun working to attract scientists to resettle in China and pursue their research there. Offering large sums for health care, housing, and other expenses, the country is investing in attracting research talent just as the U.S. is cutting science funding, targeting academia, and revoking visas for Chinese students. China is not alone in opening its arms to scientists who no longer feel they have a place in the U.S. The European Union announced that it will invest half a billion euros into making Europe a more attractive destination for scientists. European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen said the goal of this investment is “to make Europe a magnet for researchers.”

It remains the case that what we are seeing is, at core, global competition, in which countries cooperate where they can but are fundamentally concerned with pursuing their own interests. This is true for U.S. allies as much as it is true for countries that take a more antagonistic posture toward the U.S. And while global rivals can, and should, cooperate whenever possible, there remains a zero-sum dynamic to their relationship, which cannot be safely ignored. If one country chooses to forgo a resource, while its rivals take steps to build up their supply of it, then the better-resourced rivals are more able to win the competition. To the extent that this competition matters for the world — and it does matter, deeply — we should evaluate global policy, including science policy, at least in part through the lens of these dynamics.

In some ways, it is counterintuitive, uncomfortable, to write both about science at the very heart of a national idea and about how science funding provides strategic advantage in global politics. We should value science for its own sake, to be pursued not so we can gain advantage over others, but to make the world better. Yet we cannot avoid the realities of the moment we are in. At core what matters most is that we, as a country, risk losing our very idea of ourselves, and that the U.S. will be a much poorer country for this, literally and metaphorically, if we accept this disinvestment. If we wish for the U.S. to maintain this position — and there are good reasons for doing so — then we should want the U.S. to continue being a home for science and for those who practice it, investing in the knowledge that makes our country better so that it can, in turn, help make the world better.

Can you imagine how different France would be today had Malraux given up on the national idea of culture at the heart of France?

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Also this week

Some thoughts on “The health consequences of nonhealthy policies in a time of policy disruption” and an accompanying podcast, in which I interviewed Sara Bleich on related ideas.

And two papers led by good colleagues. First, led by Cameron Pugach, “Prevalence of posttraumatic stress disorder and major depression in Ohio, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia 9 months after the East Palestine train derailment,” and led by Allan Stolarski on “Equity of access to care in an urban trauma system.” As always, it is a privilege to work with colleagues on the science.

I spoke with Dr. Salma Abdalla on the pilot episode of “Complicating the Narrative,” a new podcast supported by Washington University’s School of Public Health that examines public health issues through rigorous, evidence-based analysis, embracing nuance and complexity rather than over-simple solutions.