New NIH ‘Indirect Costs’ Funding Cuts Threaten Universities, Science

What The NIH Does May Greatly Affect Your Health

Yes, regardless of who you may be, all of this will end up affecting you in some way, assuming that you are a human and not a ficus plant. You know all that stuff that you do and use on a daily basis? That’s the result of science. And why do you have a greater life expectancy now to do more of that stuff than the 57-to-60 year life expectancy you would have had a century ago? Thank biomedical research for all the public health advances, vaccines, cancer treatments, surgeries, heart and diabetes medications, nutrition insights and other stuff that have been developed to help extend and improve people’s lives. A big chunk of such developments can be linked in some way to federally-funded especially NIH-funded research. I’ve covered previously in Forbes how what NIH does and supports can greatly affect many, many people’s health. Plus, universities around the country have played major roles in launching the careers of so many people. So what happens in universities doesn’t stay in universities. Then there’s the whole facts and maintaining democracy and warding off totalitarianism thing that I will describe later.

NIH Grant Funding Has Supported The Direct Costs Of Scientists Doing Research

In order to appreciate the huge impact that this abrupt change in NIH policy will have, you have to understand how the wild and wacky world of scientific research funding has worked and not worked for years in the U.S. A former colleague of mine at the University of Pittsburgh once described being a university professor who does biomedical scientific research as being a “small business owner.” That’s because a big part of being such a professor is having to constantly hunt for and bring in money from external sources to support yourself and your research operations.

Conducting scientific research requires moolah (the technical term for money) to support the salaries and benefits of members of your research team like your research assistants, programmers and post-docs, your equipment like computers, autoclaves and test tubes, materials used like paper, chemicals and post-it notes (yes, few are going to give you free post-it notes) and your travel to meetings, conferences and other activities. In many cases, you even need funding to support your own salary and benefits because many medical schools and schools of public health no longer pay for such things for their faculty. All of these are considered “direct costs” because grant funding for such costs should all go directly to you as the scientific researcher and what you need to do your research.

If you do research in the biomedical, health or public health space, the NIH has probably been a big, if not the biggest, source of such funding. Your applications for such grants will usually include a detailed budget listing out everything needed to conduct your research for the scientific project that you are proposing. It’s super competitive to get such grants since there hasn’t really been major boosts in NIH funding since the 1990’s and such funding hasn’t really kept up with inflation over the past two decades. These days, typically, less than one out of every ten grant proposals to the NIH will end up getting funded. Odds in many situation can be worse than trying-to-get-a-ticket-to-see-Taylor-Swift odds, depending on the concert and how well you know Swift.

NIH Grant Funding Has Also Supported The Indirect Costs Of Scientists Doing Research

Then there are so-called “indirect costs” that funding from the NIH and other federal agencies have covered also historically. These are the costs of what universities or similar research institutions are supposed to provide you to help support your research activities such as your office and lab space, the heat and electricity that goes to that space, waste disposal for standard trash and stuff like hazardous materials that you wouldn’t simply put in a garbage can and administrative services like human resources.

They are called “indirect” because it’s hard to directly assign each of these costs to specific aspects of a given research project. No can really say, “Oh the toilet flushing action and accompanying water that the university provided to the bathroom that you used on Thursday helped you relieve yourself enough to come up with the idea to do that specific part of your experiment.” It is clear, though, that such indirect costs are essential parts of doing research. Sitting in the dark and repeatedly soiling yourself won’t allow you to do good science. You can see how without both direct and indirect costs supported, scientists around the country would be bleep out of luck.

Cuts to indirect costs would affect a much wider range of people on university campuses than just scientists.

Few scientific researchers have the luxury of having their own bathrooms like George Costanza did in that episode of Seinfeld. On campus, students and staff often share resources that scientists have access to. Additionally, the support for administrators’ salaries and resources may come from indirect cost funding.

The process of indirect cost rates with the NIH historically involves every grant application including a proposed budget with direct costs. The university or research institution then adds an indirect cost amount, calculated as a fixed percentage of the direct costs. The negotiation of these rates has varied among institutions, with elite universities often securing higher rates. This system has incentivized universities to support scientists with NIH funding, allowing for autonomy in research.

However, the lack of transparency regarding where indirect costs are allocated has raised concerns among scientists. The recent decision by the NIH to lower indirect cost rates to 15% has sparked controversy. The justification based on philanthropic organizations’ rates overlooks the differences in resources and mandates between federal agencies and private foundations. This cut may put pressure on philanthropic organizations and impact their ability to support scientific research.

The reduction in NIH indirect cost rates could potentially affect the independence of science and scientists. Federal agencies like the NIH have mechanisms in place to prevent political influence on research projects, which may not be present in non-federal funding sources. This change raises concerns about the potential shift towards biased research funded by private entities with specific agendas.

Overall, the uncertainty created by the NIH’s decision leaves implications for scientists, science, education, and society at large. The significant role of indirect costs in funding research underscores the potential impact of these changes on the scientific community. Therefore, it is prudent to closely examine where funding is being allocated and how much of it is truly benefiting scientists and scientific endeavors versus unrelated activities. However, the recent policy change announced by the NIH may not be the most effective approach to address this issue.

The sudden reduction in indirect costs funding by the NIH has caught universities and scientists off guard, leaving them with little time to adjust. These cuts will impact existing grants as well as future awards, causing frustration and uncertainty among those who have worked diligently on grant proposals. The announcement, made late on a Friday, has undoubtedly dampened the spirits of scientists, students, and university leaders nationwide.

While scientists may not receive the same level of attention as celebrities and politicians, their contributions are essential to the fabric of society. Scientists drive innovation, provide evidence to debunk false claims, and play a vital role in shaping the progress of nations. The Union of Concerned Scientists has emphasized the interconnectedness of science and democracy, highlighting the crucial role of federal investment in scientific research for societal growth.

Amidst the changes brought about by the current administration and governmental restructuring efforts, the future of science and scientists in the U.S. is uncertain. Federal scientific agencies such as the NIH, NSF, and CDC are facing unprecedented challenges, causing anxiety among employees and researchers. The looming indirect cost cuts raise concerns about the autonomy and sustainability of scientific pursuits in the country, prompting some to contemplate leaving the field or relocating abroad.

The potential exodus of researchers could result in a significant brain drain from the U.S., impacting America’s global leadership and competitiveness in scientific innovation. The landscape of research and academia is evolving rapidly, signaling the end of an era for universities and scientists accustomed to a certain research environment. The implications of these changes are far-reaching and may reshape the future of scientific discovery in the U.S.