President Donald Trump and other administration officials have touted drastic reductions in government spending and size, including at the Department of Health and Human Services. Under Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s purview, the department moved earlier this year to lay off about 10,000 employees and end millions in grant funding.
In front of a George Washington University audience, however, Kennedy downplayed the budget slashing. His thesis: The administration cut bureaucracy, not research.
“We’re not cutting science,” Kennedy said Nov. 17. “We’re not cutting research.”
Some studies were “paused” as the agency cut its workforce earlier in the year, but the studies were renewed, so it would be a mistake to say they were cut, he said. And, he added, clinical trials weren’t abandoned — they all continue to be funded.
“We’re cutting bureaucrats,” Kennedy said.
News reports, HHS communications and Kennedy’s past statements don’t bear this out.
“NIH is taking action to terminate research funding that is not aligned with NIH and HHS priorities,” HHS spokesperson Emily Hilliard told KFF Health News in April. We contacted HHS to ask what Kennedy meant when he said the agency hadn’t cut research and received no response.
More than 70 researchers told ProPublica they were unable to continue their projects because of the grant terminations. At least 30 researchers said the grant terminations forced abrupt ends to clinical research and trials, leaving patients in limbo, ProPublica reported.
In practice, the cuts meant abandoning more than $800 million worth of research into cancers and viruses that often affect LGBTQ minority groups, setting back efforts to fight sexually transmitted infections, The New York Times reported in May.
The cuts also halted a yearslong University of California San Francisco clinical trial aiming to assess the financial, emotional and physical impacts of providing guaranteed income to young, Black adults. NIH cut the clinical trial’s funding in March. The research team was unable to conduct its final interviews, analyze the data or share findings with participants and policymakers, Sheri Lippman told the San Francisco Chronicle. Lippman was the project’s principal investigator and is a UCSF medicine professor.
That cut undermined research — including non-vaccine research. One of the canceled grants, for example, had been awarded to Emory University for nearly $750,000. It would have supported developing a dry powder mRNA antiviral therapy that could be inhaled as a way to treat patients with influenza and COVID-19.
Grant Witness, a group tracking Trump administration action against scientific research grants in 2025, found that more than 4,400 of NIH grants were stopped. The administration also froze about 1,000 grants, effectively terminating them, said Scott Delaney, one of the scientists who started Grant Witness.
Before Kennedy’s Nov. 17 remarks, he had acknowledged cutting research, in some cases saying the cuts had been made incorrectly. “About $750,000 of a University of Michigan grant into adolescent diabetes was cut,” CBS News’ chief medical correspondenttold Kennedy in April. “Did you know that?”
Kennedy said he didn’t but would look into it.
“There’s a number of studies that were cut that came to our attention and that did not deserve to be cut and we reinstated them,” Kennedy said. “Our purpose is not to reduce any level of scientific research that’s important.”
The Trump administration has restored about 52% of terminated NIH grants and 122 frozen grants as of Nov. 19, Grant Witness reported. But about 2,500 grants remain terminated or frozen.
Even cuts that were ultimately reversed harmed research, scientists say
The cuts disrupted hundreds of clinical trials, research shows.
A JAMA Internal Medicine research letter published in November found that 383 NIH-supported clinical trials lost funding from Feb. 28 to Aug. 15. The grant funding disruptions impacted approximately 1 in 30 clinical trials and more than 74,000 trial participants, researchers said. Those trials were disproportionately based in the Northeastern U.S. or in other countries and mostly studied infectious diseases, prevention or behavioral interventions.
It wasn’t clear exactly how funding disruptions affected each clinical trial. Ending a grant might not kill research outright. Researchers could potentially secure alternative funding and continue their work. In some cases, research could resume once the government restored its funding.
Scientists told PolitiFact that funding disruptions harm research, even if it is restored.
“Grant terminations force researchers to stop their studies,” Delaney said.
Researchers might lose contact with study participants, stop data collection or be forced to lay off scientists and other staff.
“When grants are reinstated, scientists can’t go back in time to collect data that they missed,” Delaney said. “You can’t go back and get a blood sample from six weeks ago.”
Although a federal judge ordered the NIH to restore hundreds of biomedical research grants, researchers told The Boston Globe that uncertainty and delays marred efforts to restart their work.
Grant funds support scientists, supplies and clinical trials, so merely reinstating a grant cannot undo the harm of a cut, said Joshua Weitz, a University of Maryland biology professor who co-founded the Science and Community Impacts Mapping Project.
“Research is not a spigot that can be turned on then off then on again without impact,” he said.
Our ruling
Kennedy said administration officials were not cutting science or research.
Reports of halted research and clinical trials demonstrate otherwise. Although some previously terminated or frozen grants were reinstated, about 2,500 grants remain terminated or frozen. And scientists said the cuts harmed research, even when funding was restored.
We rate Kennedy’s statement Pants on Fire!
PolitiFact Researcher Caryn Baird contributed to this report.
The number of international student arrivals in the U.S. dropped by nearly a fifth at the onset of this academic year, according to federal data, the latest sign of a hit to colleges’ foreign student enrollment as the Trump administration has ratcheted up scrutiny of their visas.
International visitors arriving in the U.S. on student visas declined 19% in August compared with the same month in 2024, according to the preliminary data released by the National Travel and Tourism Office. The numbers also declined in June and July, but August is the summer month that typically sees the most international student arrivals — 313,138 this year.
As the federal government has clamped down on student visitors, industry groups have warned of international enrollment declines that threaten school budgets and American colleges’ standing in the world. Although the extent of the change remains to be seen, the new data suggest a turnaround in international enrollment that had been rebounding in the U.S. from a decline worsened by the COVID-19 pandemic.
About 1.1 million international students were in the United States last year — a source of key revenue for tuition-driven colleges. International students are not eligible for federal financial aid, and many pay full tuition.
The picture in California
Many California campuses, including the University of California system, have not yet released data on fall enrollment but prepared for potential hurdles in attracting internationals.
For fall 2025 admissions — not enrollment — UC said its nine undergraduate campuses had offered seats to 3,263 more first-year international students, an increase of 17% over last year, according to data reported over the summer. UC also admitted 100,947 first-year California students, up more than 7% from last year,
UC said it increased international admits because of “rising uncertainty of their likelihood of enrollment.” It noted that the share of accepted internationals who choose to enroll is generally “substantially lower” than that of California residents and that the cost of being a non-Californian at UC has gone up. Last year, the UC Board of Regents approved a 10% increase of the “nonresident” tuition fee from $34,200 to $37,602.
At USC, the California campus that typically attracts the largest share of internationals in the state, there were also concerns over a potential dip in foreign student enrollment.
The campus saw a small decline in overall international enrollment, from 12,374 last academic year to 11,959 this fall. Chinese and Indian students made up more than half of the total foreign population, matching trends statewide.
But USC also grew its first-year international community, according to university data about this fall’s new undergraduate class.
Of the 3,759 new first-year students enrolled this fall, about 21%, or 789, are internationals. Last year, about 17% of the 3,489 first-years — 593 — were in the U.S. on visas.
California usually attracts the largest international college community of any state. In 2024, in addition to USC, the biggest draws were UC Berkeley, which enrolled 12,441 students; UC San Diego, 10,467 students; and UCLA, 10,446 students, according to data from the Institute of International Education. STEM fields — science, technology, engineering and math — were the most popular.
Visa challenges and travel bans blocked some students
Nationally, many students who had plans to study in the U.S. could not enter the country because of difficulty lining up visas. In late May, the State Department paused the scheduling of visa interviews for foreign students, which resumed three weeks later with new rules for vetting visa applicants’ social media accounts.
The timing of the pause had “maximum possible impact” for visa issuances for the fall semester, said Clay Harmon, executive director of the Assn. of International Enrollment Management, a nonprofit membership association.
The federal data on international dips show those regions experienced the largest declines in international student arrivals this August, with drops of 33% from Africa, 17% from the Middle East and 24% from Asia — including a 45% decrease from India, the country that sends the most students to the U.S.
The data include new as well as returning students, but some who were already in the U.S. avoided traveling outside the country this summer for fear of problems reentering.
Students have concerns about the political climate, research funding and cost
Some international students and their families have been wary of the Trump administration’s wider crackdown on immigration. In the spring, the federal government stripped thousands of international students of their legal status, causing panic before the Trump administration reversed course. Trump also has called for colleges to reduce their dependence on foreign students and cap international enrollment.
Syed Tamim Ahmad, a senior at UCLA who grew up in Dubai, said he was considering applying to medical school in the U.S. before last spring, when sudden student visa cancellations and government suspensions of research funding to Harvard and other elite campuses began to intensify.
“When I was a freshman, it seemed that out of every country the U.S. provided the most opportunities in terms of access to research funding and resources,” said Ahmad, whose major is physiological science. “But by my senior year, a lot of these pull factors became push factors. Funding was cut down, affecting labs, and there is fear among international students about what they put on social media and what they put online. That sense of having freedom of speech in the U.S. isn’t the same.”
Ahmad is now planning to enroll at medical school in Australia.
“There is a similar feeling among many students — that if they are going to graduate school or continuing their studies they should go outside the U.S.,” said Ahmad, who previously served in UCLA’s undergraduate student government as an international representative. “But it’s not everyone. There are also still many people who believe that there are good opportunities for them in the United States.”
Zeynep Bowlus, a higher education consultant in Istanbul, said interest in U.S. universities among the families she works with had been declining over the last few years largely because of financial reasons and skepticism about the value of an American degree. Policy changes in the U.S. are adding to their concerns, she said.
“I try not to make it too dramatic, but at the same time, I tell them the reality of what’s going on and the potential hurdles that they may face,” Bowlus said.
Institutions in other countries have seized the opportunity to attract students who might be cooling on the U.S. Growing numbers of Chinese students have opted to stay in Asia, and international applications to universities in the United Kingdom have surged.
Elisabeth Marksteiner, a higher education consultant in Cambridge, England, said she will encourage families looking at American universities to approach the admissions process with more caution. A student visa has never been guaranteed, but it is especially important now for families to have a backup plan, she said.
“I think the presumption is that it’s all going to carry on as it was in the past,” Marksteiner said. “My presumption is, it isn’t.”
Kaleem is a staff writer for The Times. Seminera and Keller write for the Associated Press.
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Jaweed Kaleem, Makiya Seminera, Christopher L. Keller
SACRAMENTO, California — Democratic Sen. Alex Padilla said on Wednesday that UCLA could consider reaching a settlement with the Trump administration to restore hundreds of millions of dollars in frozen research funding, breaking from Gov. Gavin Newsom’s hardline stance that California “will never bend the knee” to the federal demands.
Padilla told POLITICO that a “minor, negligible” payment or policy change would be appropriate “in exchange for keeping the money going on important research and student support programs.”
“I can’t say they shouldn’t consider it, but it all depends on what they’re willing to budge on or agree to,” Padilla said, noting that he isn’t aware of what proposals are on the table.
Padilla added that any potential settlement may not be palatable to the Trump administration, considering that it is targeting other institutions from the judiciary branch to media organizations, law firms and the Smithsonian Institution.
“We can’t ignore the context here,” Padilla said.
The Trump administration suspended more than $500 million in research funding from UCLA in late July over allegations of antisemitism on campus, just days after the university had agreed to a $6.5 million settlement with Jewish students and a professor over the pro-Palestinian protests last year. It followed that up with a $1 billion settlement demand to restore the funding, along with a host of other sweeping requests that included eliminating scholarships based on race or ethnicity and the use of proxies for race in their admissions process.
Newsom, who sits on the regents, strongly pushed back against the demands, threatening to sue and likening the proposal to “extortion.” He stressed the state would “not be complicit in this kind of attack on academic freedom on this extraordinary public institution.” He called out Brown and Columbia for reaching deals with the Trump administration in recent weeks and said Harvard’s president “must resign” over reports that it was close to settling.
The UCs have revealed little publicly about their strategy, saying only earlier this month that the demands were “devastating” but that leadership was “evaluating” the proposal. A group of regents held closed door meetings in recent weeks and UC President James Milliken held meetings with state lawmakers this week in Sacramento that a spokesperson said “covered a wide range of issues, including the far-reaching consequences of the federal government’s actions against UCLA.”
Kira Stoops lives in Bozeman, Montana—a beautiful mountain town where it sometimes feels like everyone regularly goes on 50-mile runs. Stoops, however, can’t walk around her own block on most days. To stand for more than a few minutes, she needs a wheeled walker. She reacts so badly to most foods that her diet consists of just 12 ingredients. Her “brain fog” usually lifts for a mere two hours in the morning, during which she can sometimes work or, more rarely, see friends. Stoops has myalgic encephalomyelitis, or chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS). “I’m considered a moderate patient on the mild side,” she told me.
ME/CFS involves a panoply of debilitating symptoms that affect many organ systems and that get worse with exertion. The Institute of Medicine estimates that it affects 836,000 to 2.5 million people in the U.S. alone, but is so misunderstood and stigmatized that about 90 percent of people who have it have never been diagnosed. At best, most medical professionals know nothing about ME/CFS; at worst, they tell patients that their symptoms are psychosomatic, anxiety-induced, or simply signs of laziness. While ME/CFS patients, their caregivers, and the few doctors who treat them have spent years fighting for medical legitimacy, the coronavirus pandemic has now forced the issue.
A wide variety of infections can cause ME/CFS, and SARS-CoV-2, the coronavirus that causes COVID-19, is no different: Many cases of long COVID are effectivelyME/CFS by another name. The exact number is hard to define, but past studies have shown that 5 to 27 percent of people infected by variouspathogens, including Epstein-Barr virus and the original SARS, develop ME/CFS. Even if that proportion is 10 times lower for SARS-CoV-2, the number of Americans with ME/CFS would still have doubled in the past three years. “We’re adding an immense volume of patients to an already dysfunctional and overburdened system,” Beth Pollack, a scientist at MIT who studies complex chronic illnesses, told me.
The U.S. has so few doctors who truly understand the disease and know how to treat it that when they convened in 2018 to create a formal coalition, there were only about a dozen, and the youngest was 60. Currently, the coalition’s website lists just 21 names, of whom at least three have retired and one is dead, Linda Tannenbaum, the CEO and president of the Open Medicine Foundation, told me. These specialists are concentrated on the coasts; none work in the Midwest. American ME/CFS patients may outnumber the population of 15 individual states, but ME/CFS specialists couldn’t fill a Major League Baseball roster. Stoops, who is 39, was formally diagnosed with ME/CFS only four years ago, and began receiving proper care from two of those specialists—Lucinda Bateman of the Bateman Horne Center and David Kaufman from the Center for Complex Diseases. Bateman told me that even before the pandemic, she could see fewer than 10 percent of the patients who asked for a consultation. “When I got into those practices, it was like I got into Harvard,” Stoops told me.
ME/CFS specialists, already overwhelmed with demand for their services, now have to decide how to best use and spread their knowledge, at a time when more patients and doctors than ever could benefit from it. Kaufman recently discharged many of the more stable ME/CFS patients in his care—Stoops among them—so that he could start seeing COVID long-haulers who “were just making the circuit of doctors and getting nowhere,” he told me. “I can’t clone myself, and this was the only other way to” make room for new patients.
Bateman, meanwhile, is feverishly focused on educating other clinicians. The hallmark symptom of ME/CFS—post-exertional malaise, or PEM—means even light physical or mental exertion can trigger major crashes that exacerbate every other symptom. Doctors who are unfamiliar with PEM, including many now running long-COVID clinics, can unwittingly hurt their patients by encouraging them to exercise. Bateman is racing to spread that message, and better ways of treating patients, but that means she’ll have to reduce her clinic hours.
These agonizing decisions mean that many existing ME/CFS patients are losing access to the best care they had found so far—what for Stoops meant “the difference between being stuck at home, miserable and in pain, and actually going out once or twice a day, seeing other humans, and breathing fresh air,” she told me. But painful trade-offs might be necessary to finally drag American medicine to a place where it can treat these kinds of complex, oft-neglected conditions. Kaufman is 75 and Bateman is 64. Although both of them told me they’re not retiring anytime soon, they also won’t be practicing forever. To make full use of their expertise and create more doctors like them, the medical profession must face up to decades spent dismissing illnesses such as ME/CFS—an overdue reckoning incited by long COVID. “It’s a disaster possibly wrapped up in a blessing,” Stoops told me. “The system is cracking and needs to crack.”
Many ME/CFS specialists have a deep knowledge of the disease because they’ve experienced it firsthand. Jennifer Curtin, one of the youngest doctors in the field, has two family members with the disease, and had it herself for nine years. She improved enough to make it through medical school and residency training, which showed her that ME/CFS “just isn’t taught,” she told me. Most curricula don’t include it; most textbooks don’t mention it.
Even if doctors learn about ME/CFS, America’s health-care system makes it almost impossible for them to actually help patients. The insurance model pushes physicians toward shorter visits; 15 minutes might feel luxurious. “My average visit length is an hour, which doesn’t include the time I spend going over the patient’s 500 to 1,700 pages of records beforehand,” Curtin said. “It’s not a very scalable kind of care.” (She works with Kaufman at the Center for Complex Diseases, which bills patients directly.) This also explains why the cohort of ME/CFS clinicians is aging out, with little young blood to refresh them. “Hospital systems want physicians to see lots of patients and they want them to follow the rules,” Kaufman said. “There’s less motivation for moving into areas of medicine that are more unknown and challenging.”
ME/CFS is certainly challenging, not least because it’s just “one face of a many-sided problem,” Jaime Seltzer, the director of scientific and medical outreach at the advocacy group MEAction, told me. The condition’s root causes can also lead to several distinct but interlocking illnesses, including mast cell activation syndrome, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, fibromyalgia, dysautonomia (usually manifesting as POTS), and several autoimmune and gastrointestinal disorders. “I’m still amazed at how often patients come in with Complaint No. 1, and then I find five to seven of the other things,” Kaufman said. These syndromes collectively afflict many organ systems, which can baffle doctors who’ve specialized in just one. Many of them disproportionately affect women, and are subject to medicine’s long-standing tendency to minimize or psychologize women’s pain, Pollack told me: An average woman with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome typically spends 16 years getting a diagnosis, while a man needs only four.
People with long COVID might have many of these conditions and not know about any—because their doctors don’t either. Like ME/CFS, they rarely feature in medical training, and it’s hard to “teach someone about all of them when they’ve never heard of any of them,” Seltzer said. Specialists like Bateman and Kaufman matter because they understand not just ME/CFS but also the connected puzzle pieces. They can look at a patient’s full array of symptoms and prioritize the ones that are most urgent or foundational. They know how to test for conditions that can be invisible to standard medical techniques: “None of my tests came back abnormal until I saw an ME/CFS doctor, and then all my tests came back abnormal,” said Hannah Davis of the Patient-Led Research Collaborative, who has had long COVID since March 2020.
ME/CFS specialists also know how to help, in ways that are directly applicable to cases of long COVID with overlapping symptoms. ME/CFS has no cure but can be managed, often through “simple, inexpensive interventions that can be done through primary care,” Bateman told me. Over-the-counter antihistamines can help patients with inflammatory problems such as mast cell activation syndrome. Low doses of naltrexone, commonly used for addiction disorders, can help those with intense pain. A simple but rarely administered test can show if patients have orthostatic intolerance—a blood-flow problem that worsens other symptoms when people stand or sit upright. Most important, teaching patients about pacing—carefully sensing and managing your energy levels—can prevent debilitating crashes. “We don’t go to an ME/CFS clinic and walk out in remission,” Stoops told me. “You go to become stabilized. The ship has 1,000 holes, and doctors can patch one before the next explodes, keeping the whole thing afloat.”
That’s why the prospect of losing specialists is so galling. Stoops understands why her doctors might choose to focus on education or newly diagnosed COVID long-haulers, but ME/CFS patients are “just so lost already, and to lose what little we have is a really big deal,” she said. Kaufman has offered to refer her to generalist physicians or talk to primary-care doctors on her behalf. But it won’t be the same: “Having one appointment with him is like six to eight appointments with other practitioners,” she said. He educates her about ME/CFS; with other doctors, it’s often the other way round. “I’m going to have to work much harder to receive a similar level of care.”
At least, she will for now. The ME/CFS specialists who are shifting their focus are hoping that they can use this moment of crisis to create more resources for everyone with these diseases. In a few years, Bateman hopes, “there will be 100 times more clinicians who are prepared to manage patients, and many more people with ME/CFS who have access to care.”
For someone who is diagnosed with ME/CFS today, the landscape already looks very different than it did just a decade ago. In 2015, the Institute of Medicine published a landmark report redefining the diagnostic criteria for the disease. In 2017, the CDC stopped recommending exercise therapy as a treatment. In 2021, Bateman and 20 other clinicians published a comprehensive guide to the condition in the journal of the Mayo Clinic. For any mainstream disease, such events—a report, a guideline revision, a review article—would be mundane. For ME/CFS, they felt momentous. And yet, “the current state of things is simply intolerable,” Julie Rehmeyer, a journalist with ME/CFS, told me. Solving the gargantuan challenge posed by complex chronic diseases demands seismic shifts in research funding, medical training, and public attitudes. “Achieving shifts like that takes something big,” Rehmeyer said. “Long COVID is big.”
COVID long-haulers have proved beyond any reasonable doubt that acute viral infections can leave people chronically ill. Many health-care workers, political-decision makers, and influencers either know someone with long COVID or have it themselves. Even if they still don’t know about ME/CFS, their heightened awareness of post-viral illnesses is already making a difference. Mary Dimmock’s son developed ME/CFS in 2011, and before the pandemic, one doctor in 10 might take him seriously. “Now it’s the flip: Only one doctor out of 10 will be a real jerk,” Dimmock told me. “I attribute that to long COVID.”
But being believed is the very least that ME/CFS patients deserve. They need therapeutics that target the root causes of the disease, which will require a clear understanding of those causes, which will require coordinated, well-funded research—three things ME/CFS has historically lacked. But here, too, “long COVID is going to be a catalyst,” Amy Proal, the president of the Polybio Research Foundation, told me. She is leading the Long Covid Research Initiative—a group of scientists, including ME/CFS researchers, that will use state-of-the-art techniques to see exactly how the new coronavirus causes long COVID, and rapidly push potential treatments through clinical trials. The National Institutes of Health has also committed $1.15 billion to long-COVID research, and while some advocates are concerned about how that money will be spent, Rehmeyer notes that the amount is still almost 80 times greater than the paltry $15 million spent on ME/CFS every year—less than any other disease in the NIH’s portfolio, relative to its societal burden. “Even if 90 percent is wasted, we’d be doing a lot better,” she said.
While they wait for better treatments, patients also need the medical community to heed the lessons that they and their clinicians have learned. For example, the American Academy for Family Physicians website still wrongly recommends exercise therapy and links ME/CFS to childhood abuse. “That group of doctors is very important to these patients,” Dimmock said, “so what does that say to them about what this disease is all about?”
Despite all evidence to the contrary, many clinicians and researchers still don’t see ME/CFS as a legitimate illness and are quick to dismiss any connection between it and long COVID. To ensure that both groups of patients get the best possible treatments, instead of advice that might harm them, ME/CFS specialists are working to disseminate their hard-won knowledge. Bateman and her colleagues have been creating educational resources for cliniciansand patients, continuing-medical-education courses, and an online lecture series. Jennifer Curtin has spent two years mapping all the decisions she makes when seeing a new patient, and is converting those into a tool that other clinicians can use. As part of her new start-up, called RTHM, she’s also trying to develop better ways of testing for ME/CFS and its related syndromes, of visualizing the hefty electronic health records that chronically ill patients accumulate, and of tracking the treatments they try and their effects. “There are a lot of things that need to be fixed for this kind of care to be scalable,” Curtin told me.
Had such shifts already occurred, the medical profession might have had more to offer COVID long-haulers beyond bewilderment and dismissal. But if the profession starts listening to the ME/CFS community now, it will stand the best chance of helping people being disabled by COVID, and of steeling itself against future epidemics. Pathogens have been chronically disabling people for the longest time, and more pandemics are inevitable. The current one could and should be the last whose long-haulers are greeted with disbelief.
New centers that cater to ME/CFS patients are already emerging. RTHM is currently focused on COVID long-haulers but will take on some of David Kaufman’s former patients in November, and will open its waiting list to the broader ME/CFS community in December. (It is currently licensed to practice in just five states but expects to expand soon.) David Putrino, who leads a long-COVID rehabilitation clinic in Mount Sinai, is trying to raise funds for a new clinic that will treat both long COVID and ME/CFS. He credits ME/CFS patients with opening his eyes to the connection between long COVID and their condition.
Every ME/CFS patient I’ve talked with predicted long COVID’s arrival well before most doctors or even epidemiologists started catching up. They know more about complex chronic illnesses than many of the people now treating long COVID do. Despite having a condition that saps their energy, many have spent the past few years helping long-haulers navigate what for them was well-trodden terrain: “I did barely anything but work in 2020,” Seltzer told me. Against the odds, they’ve survived. But the pandemic has created a catalytic opportunity for the odds to finally be tilted in their favor, “so that neither patients nor doctors of any complex chronic illness have to be heroes anymore,” Rehmeyer said.
Atlanta, GA, April 6, 2017 (Newswire.com)
– It has become frighteningly clear that the Trump Administration will be wielding a large axe when it comes to federal research funding, with more than $1 billion in cuts targeted at the NIH budget alone in 2017, and more than $30 billion – 18% of the NIH budget – in 2018. The White House is particularly targeting “indirect” or overhead costs, which comprise just under 30% of federal grant payments to university research labs.
University research leaders are protesting the proposed cuts as shortsighted and damaging to the future of U.S. competitiveness on the world’s innovation stage. So far those protests are falling on deaf ears, however, and many schools are bracing for the worst and preparing their campuses for an increasingly bleak future when it comes to federal funding. A growing number of universities have already been working hard to increase their research funding from industry partnerships, and that effort is taking on new urgency given the news out of Washington.
“Working with industry in sponsored research partnerships is imperative to supplement the reduced level of federal grant funding, but it’s unfamiliar ground for many research managers.”
David Schwartz, CEO and Publisher
That’s where Industry-Sponsored Research Management comes in.Launched last month by Atlanta-based 2Market Information Inc., it’s the first and only publication devoted to helping universities build and manage their portfolios of corporate-sponsored research agreements.
Each monthly issue of Industry-Sponsored Research Management contains high-level strategies and best practices designed to help research managers bring in more industry research contracts, negotiate deals effectively, build lasting relationships with corporate sponsors, protect valuable intellectual property, and ensure airtight compliance practices.
“When we launched the publication we had no idea the Trump budget would include these draconian cuts to federal research funding,” says David Schwartz, 2Market Information’s CEO and publisher. “We had already identified a strong need for information on attracting and managing industry sponsorships, but now that need has become more urgent as more universities realize that funding alternatives will be required to keep their labs open and their promising innovations moving forward.”
Industry-Sponsored Research Management fills a critical information void, providing how-to guidance and expert strategies focused on the many challenges associated with corporate-sponsored research. “Working with industry in sponsored research partnerships is imperative to supplement the reduced level of federal grant funding, but it’s unfamiliar ground for many research managers. These partnerships involve new intellectual property issues, contracting and negotiation issues, conflict of interest challenges and regulatory concerns. We’re helping our readers navigate these issues while bringing in critical new sources of funding,” Schwartz comments.
For a free copy of the premiere issue, CLICK HERE or call 239-263-0605. For further information on the publication or to become a charter subscriber for just $297 (a $100 discount), plus receive the three-program distance learning collection Best Practices in Forming and Managing Industry-University Partnerships, CLICK HERE.
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