What Guides Us When the Path Changes

Like many of you, I find myself looking for refuge from the relentless noise of the news. I am gravitating toward books where the characters are kind, where the stories may be light but still carry depth, and where the experience feels restorative. I am watching shows with a similar sensibility—stories in which people speak honestly, care for one another, and try, imperfectly, to do the right thing in an imperfect world.

That sense of respite was abruptly interrupted by the recently published “Regulation for Federal Financial Assistance,” a proposed rule from the Office of Management and Budget that would fundamentally change the ground rules for federally funded research. As a scientist who has been federally funded since writing my dissertation, I experience this not as an abstract policy shift, but as something that directly affects how we do our work. I first encountered it while attending the American Society of Clinical Oncology (ASCO) meeting—a gathering that represents the full spectrum of oncology research and care. The work presented there, and by colleagues worldwide, has significantly reduced the burden of cancer, still the leading cause of death in Colorado. This proposal matters because, if enacted, it would reshape how scientific work is proposed, reviewed, conducted, and shared.

The proposal introduces several major shifts. It moves funding decisions away from established peer review and toward greater discretion by agency leadership, including political appointees, while introducing vague criteria such as “anti-American values” and “questionable practices.” It expands agencies’ authority to terminate or suspend awards without meaningful avenues for appeal, creating instability for research programs that depend on long-term continuity. It constrains financial decision-making and investment opportunities, limits the ability to publish, hinders collaboraiveopportunities , and participate fully in the scientific community. And it restricts international partnerships, discouraging the global collaborations that have long driven scientific progres for decadesr

Taken together, these changes centralize authority, embed political considerations into funding decisions, and reduce the predictability and openness that scientific work requires.

If enacted, the consequences would be immediate and far-reaching. U.S. scientists and clinicians could find themselves unable to participate fully in the most important discussions of the day such as ASCO, to publish in leading journals such as the Journal of Clinical Oncology, or to pursue research that advances cancer prevention, treatment, and survival because of uncertainty or fear that work will be halted for reasons unrelated to scientific merit. This is why it is essential that we respond thoughtfully and deliberately and not with unfocused outrage, but with sustained, purposeful action grounded in our shared mission to improve and save lives

In thinking about how to respond, I return to the themes in the books that have offered some refuge. In Theo of Golden by Allen Levi, acts of kindness and a willingness to see people clearly and generously alter the trajectory of an entire community. In Finding My Way by Nobel Peace Prize winner Malala Yousafzai, that perspective is tested under far more extreme circumstances following an attack by the Taliban when she was only 15 years old. Reflecting on her own life, she writes, “I’ll never know who I was supposed to be. Maybe everyone feels that way, curious about the invisible crossroads in their lives, the wrong turns and chance encounters that change everything…. I can’t escape the feeling that a giant hand plucked me out of one story and dropped me into an entirely new one.”

What I draw from these readings, especially now, is not escape bu rather ... /direction. We can choose to engage in ways that draw people toward us rather than push them away. We can stay grounded in evidence, integrity, and purpose, even as the environment becomes less certain. We can acknowledge fear without allowing it to silence us. And we can recognize that unexpected turns may change our path, but they do not remove our responsibility to act with intention and if our path is changed, we can still make outcome positive.

The path forward will be defined by a series of deliberate choices: to support one another, to advocate for the principles that make scientific progress possible, and to continue the work even when it becomes more difficult. Progress has never been guaranteed. The path forward may not be clear right now, but our responsibility to the work, and to each other, remains. Communities continue to depend on us regardless of actions taken at the federal level.