OPINION: Why you do everything right and it still ends up wrong

In 2015, I graduated college with a degree in psychology and I wanted to conduct research to reduce health disparities. First, I needed more research experience if I wanted to get into a doctorate program. I took a year off to apply, and then spent the next two years earning my master’s degree in research. I applied to 13 doctorate programs: I got one offer. After five years of intensive training, I graduated in 2023 with my doctoral in experimental psychology and a passion for addiction science. Eight years after I graduated from college, I was finally ready to enter the workforce as an independent scientist. Right?

Wrong. In psychology, it’s uncommon for people to become professors or independent scientists immediately after receiving their Ph.D. Most people, me included, complete additional training, called postdocs. It was frustrating to find myself still inching toward my goal after so much time, but if my goal is to conduct research that makes the world a better place, what’s a couple more years?

In 2023, I started as a postdoc at an amazing addiction research center and quickly knew that I wanted to stay for the long haul. But research centers are “soft” money, meaning that I would need to write a grant to get a salary. I hunkered down and designed a study I was passionate about. The project was going to use a novel method to better understand how and why members of the LGBTQ+ community drink alcohol at higher rates. I believe the findings from this study would have helped develop better interventions in the future. The National Institute of Health had made funding projects in this area a priority: They recognized that studying health disparities leads to better health for everyone.

I submitted the grant in March 2024 and waited for reviewers to score it and provide feedback. When I got my score in June, it wasn’t good enough to be funded. While disappointing, it’s typical for a first submission. Grants are competitive and reviewed by top experts in our fields. The reviewers provided critiques that I was able to address, improving the application. I resubmitted the stronger grant and was elated with my new score. The reviewers agreed that the project had significantly improved, and it seemed all but likely that I would get my first ever NIH grant come April 2025.

I had spent a decade working toward this moment. I did what the field told me was required. When I wasn’t competitive enough to get into graduate school, I got more experience. When I wasn’t ready to be an independent researcher, I got more training. When the grant wasn’t quite right, I improved it.

Then, the new administration rolled in and canceled diversity-focused grants en masse. It is almost certain that my grant will never be funded. This administration has decided that funding science, especially science that develops new treatments or reduces health disparities, is not important. Unfortunately, I am not alone in this. So many early career researchers have spent years working incredibly hard for their research to be funded — doing everything they were told they had to do — only to find themselves in limbo because their research recognizes that health opportunities are not distributed equally. Not only that, but the NIH told them — and me — that this was important to study.

What kind of message is this sending to our young scientists? Work hard and improve because don’t worry — it won’t pay off? I’m not ready to give up just yet, but I certainly wouldn’t blame anyone in my position who is. At a time when we need more scientists than ever, who is going to see what’s happening to early career researchers and think, “Yes, that’s the field for me?”