Welcome to the Research Policy Dispatch - a free weekly newsletter for research managers and administrators, research development professionals, PIs, and anyone who cares about what is going on with the research enterprise in higher ed.

The Dispatch is a companion to the Research Policy Atlas - a searchable, relational database that tracks executive orders, legislative actions, agency notices, court rulings, and more. The Atlas gives you one place to connect the dots that affect research funding, compliance, and higher ed so you can translate and act.

LEARN MORE ABOUT THE RESEARCH POLICY ATLAS →

There's an intense scene in Kill Bill: Volume 2 where protagonist Beatrix 'The Bride' Kiddo is buried alive, gets her collective wits about her, and literally punches her way out of a pine box in a shallow grave. I count both volumes amongst my favorite movies, and I've never felt more connected to that character than I do right now. Although I've never had to overcome physical violence, I do know how to outmaneuver curveballs and thrive when I'm backed into a corner. I'm most creative and able to see the full board clearer when the pressure's on.

For me, this moment is full of possibility and I'm optimistic about the future. Challenging, yes, but clarifying. I can see the full board right now in ways I couldn't before. I also know that's not everyone's experience. A lot of people are understandably overwhelmed and have checked out by passively avoiding what's going on in the world. The sheer volume of policy changes, threats, and uncertainty makes it hard to know where to focus your attention, let alone your precious time and energy. So people retreat to their usual business and stop paying attention altogether.

I get it. I needed and need breaks too. For the past month I've been absent from the Dispatch; not buried in despair, but burrowing deep to figure out how to be most useful. I've been working on other writing projects and pondering a new format. Most importantly, I needed time to think about the future - not just of this newsletter, but about how we all stay oriented enough to do the important work of rebuilding a more humane, livable future.

There are excellent resources already doing this work. Unbreaking and Liz Neeley's Meeting the Moment newsletter are both freely accessible, brilliant resources tracking what's happening with science, funding, and higher ed. If you're not already reading them, I recommend them both. After perusing back issues of Meeting the Moment, I realized Liz and I are in some sort of mind meld and there's no need for me to duplicate that work in the Dispatch that she's already doing expertly through her briefings.

To be concrete, the Research Policy Atlas is similar to the Unbreaking project, but ultimately adjacent. It’s tracking much of the same context as Unbreaking: the policy landscape, the threats, the shifts. But the Atlas adds an execution layer for anyone responsible for implementing research and running units. It's relational and connects topics across changing policies, legal actions, and contextual references. It's designed to help leaders and strategists of all stripes answer the "what do we actually need to do about this?" question, not just the "what's happening?" sensemaking question, which is also critical. It’s keeping track of all the moves so users can critically ignore the dumpster fire du jour and access it when they need to or have capacity. I've written about this research policy overload recently, and personally I think this will become more important based on the current media and content hellscape we find ourselves in.

So all this to say, the Dispatch is evolving.

From now on, think of this as your weekly check-in, not another thing to process deeply. The heavy analysis, when it’s needed or wanted lives in the Atlas. This newsletter will be quick orientation: what moved, what matters, where to look deeper if you need to.

Each week, I'll focus on what's most useful in that moment, drawing from four core areas:

Not every section will appear every week - just what's most useful when it's useful.

Congress rejects Trump budget cuts (for now): Both the House and Senate are moving forward with minibus appropriations bills that largely protect science agency budgets (NSF, NASA, NIST, NOAA, etc.) from the administration's proposed cuts. AIP and NBC News are calling this a win. But flat funding isn't the same as safe funding - there are other mechanisms at play (more on that below). Note, that NIH is excluded from this three bill package and is part of different House and Senate Appropriations subcommittees. The current Continuing Resolution we are operating under expires January 30, 2026.

Federal appeals court blocks NIH indirect cost cuts: The 15% indirect cost cap has been struck down in court. STAT News coverage here. This is a genuine victory, though the administration has other tools in the toolbox.

I’m bearish on science funding in 2026 and believe that attacks on appropriations will continue, but take a different shape. I think the most likely tactic in 2026 will involve multi-year funding, but the media keeps missing the story and is instead painting the picture that “Science is doing Ok.”

First, what is multi-year funding? Here's the key distinction people miss:

Most NIH grants have been approved for multiple years; like a 5-year R01. But traditionally, the funding gets obligated (committed from NIH's budget) one year at a time. Year 1 funding comes from this year's appropriation, Year 2 from next year's appropriation, and so on.

Multi-year funding changes the accounting: the entire 5-year grant gets obligated upfront from a single year's appropriation, even though the project still takes 5 years to complete.

Sounds straightforward, maybe even beneficial for researchers who want budget certainty. It's not. At least not for the research ecosystem as a whole.

Let me be clear: multi-year funding is an accounting mechanism, not a policy innovation. It's essentially inert when applied to individual grants.

Here's the analogy: You have a 3-year home remodel. In scenario A, all your cash sits in the bank upfront. In scenario B, you pay as you go annually. Either way, the remodel takes 3 years and costs the same. It's like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.

So why is the administration pushing to shift 40-50% of NIH's portfolio to multi-year funding? Because the mechanism and action itself compresses the budget in the short term. If NIH were to obligate out-years upfront, this action would consume budget authority immediately, leaving a much smaller pot for new awards. By obligating funds for entire projects upfront, the agency removes "out-year mortgages" that typically consume up to 80% of an institute's annual budget, which sounds fine until you realize it means this year's budget gets eaten up funding future years of existing grants, leaving almost nothing for new projects.

Conveniently, fewer dollars for new awards means more control over what gets funded. In tandem, this means an outcome of the whole funding system facing a severe contraction in success rates. An investigator’s 1-in-10 shot at funding becomes 1-in-20 or worse.

If you genuinely wanted to change accounting approaches (again: no real benefit to researchers), you'd stage it over years to minimize disruption. That's not what's happening.

Last year was a roaring lion: abrupt and splashy program terminations, agency chaos, open warfare. This year will be a meek lamb: an accounting tweak no one notices until it's too late. Unless Congress shuts it down. Forbes has more.

I'm currently reworking some of the core taxonomy in the Research Policy Atlas to make the sensemaking clearer and more concrete. The goal: help you find what you need faster when things are moving fast. More on this soon.

Thanks for reading along. I look forward to sharing future editions with you and to navigating the “spirit of the time” together.

Until next time,

Sarah Trimmer, MPH
The Research Policy Dispatch

Federal policy is complex and constantly changing, but the Research Policy Atlas tracks it so you can focus on research.