Americans’ confidence in science has slipped to its lowest point in almost half a century, write neuroscientists Michael Platt and Cory Miller. In this opinion piece, they explain how scientists can work to rebuild trust.
Written By
Cory Miller and Michael L. Platt
The following article was written by Cory Miller, a neuroscientist at the University of California San Diego, and Michael L. Platt, a neuroscientist at the University of Pennsylvania and director of the Wharton Neuroscience Initiative.
Scientists today seem out of touch with reality. In the past, when a new administration proposed deep cuts to federal research, scientists reflexively girded for battle using a tried-and-true playbook. We circulated petitions, attended protests, fired off angry emails, lauded our accomplishments, and hoped the storm would pass, all while patting ourselves on the back. But these days, the rising tide of anti-science sentiment is not receding. The same public that once rose to support us is not showing up. Americans’ confidence in science has slipped to its lowest point in almost half a century.
Only a third of Americans today think highly of universities — a number that has dropped by half in only a decade. The world changed, and scientists stubbornly did not.
One thing is very clear. The old strategies will not work today. A paradigm shift is needed. If we want the public — and the politicians who represent them — to see research as a national necessity rather than an optional line item, scientists must fundamentally change how we show up in public life.
We have persuasive material to work with. Vaccines have doubled human life expectancy. Gene-editing tools are poised to cure once-fatal diseases. Brain-computer interfaces now let paralyzed people type with their thoughts. Yet too often these triumphs remain trapped in academic journals or emerge in press releases written for insiders, not neighbors. Into that vacuum step loud, well-funded voices eager to paint researchers as coastal elites pushing a partisan agenda.
“One thing is very clear. The old strategies will not work today. A paradigm shift is needed.”
Part of the problem is structural. Success bred specialization; specialization bred silos. Federal agencies, professional societies, and think tanks each assumed someone else was handling public outreach. Meanwhile, the range of viewpoints on many campuses narrowed, and protests occurred when conservative speakers visited universities, feeding the perception that science itself has taken sides. Critics had an easy target: isolated experts speaking an arcane language while missing the concerns of ordinary voters.
perception that science itself has taken sides. Critics had an easy target: isolated experts speaking an arcane language while missing the concerns of ordinary voters.
History warns us not to assume good data will prevail on its own because the significance of science is not inherently self-evident. Galileo’s telescope shook the world, but it took 359 years for the Church to admit it was wrong. What finally wins hearts and minds is persistence, storyÂtelling, and relevance to daily life — the very skills we scientists let atrophy.
We can do better, and quickly, by following three principles.
First, treat communication as a core professional duty.
A lab that publishes groundbreaking work but never explains why it matters is only half-funded. Universities and funding agencies should reward op-eds, town-hall talks, and social-media explainers with the same seriousness they give to peer-reviewed papers. How the world communicates has changed radically, but scientific communication has not. Senior scientists must adopt these new modes of communication, and graduate programs must equip the next generation with these skillsets.
Second, leave the bubble.
We cannot only talk with people who already agree with us. Rural hospitals struggling with doctor shortages, school boards debating climate curricula, faith groups weighing vaccine guidance — these are forums where evidence can save lives and bridge divides. Showing up in person, listening before lecturing, and acknowledging uncertainty are acts of respect that earn trust faster than any fact sheet.
Third, invite everyone in.
Scientific talent is universal even if opportunity is not. When kids from small towns or underserved schools hear directly from researchers who look like them — or simply bother to visit — they glimpse a future they can join. That pipeline strengthens discovery and democracy alike.
Critics will say scientists don’t have time for outreach; the grants won’t write themselves. But if we don’t make time, there will be no grants to apply for. Public opinion shapes budgets, and budgets enable breakthroughs.
“History warns us not to assume good data will prevail on its own because the significance of science is not inherently self-evident.
We should also be honest about the stakes. Cancer, dementia, and antibiotic-resistant infections do not check party registration. A nation that underfunds discovery endangers Republicans and Democrats alike, along with everyone who never votes. Science is one of the few enterprises still capable of uniting us around shared hopes: health, longevity, a planet that sustains our grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Rebuilding trust will not be quick, but it is achievable. We don’t need every researcher on TikTok or testifying before Congress, but we do need to encourage some who can. We need warrior poets to step up and translate data into plain language, admit when findings change, and engage skeptics without condescension. If scientists won’t cross the trenches we helped dig around our institutions, we shouldn’t be surprised when society stops crossing the bridge to support us.
In the end, the choice is ours. We can retreat behind microscopes and lament shrinking budgets, or we can step forward — lab coats off, sleeves rolled up — and make the case that evidence still matters in America. History suggests the public will listen, but only if we start that conversation first.
