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This piece is published anonymously to protect the author and their colleagues.
We are currently witnessing an unsettling and largely unprecedented attack on institutions of higher education in the United States, including on the norms of funding in government and academia. In the history of US anthropology, there has often been awareness that our discipline does not receive the largest amounts of funding in comparison to others, but this instance is different. The faucet does not just flow less for us; it has now been largely turned off. The impacts of these changes cannot be understated.
During the first Trump administration there were significant pushes toward anti-intellectualism and changes made to the Department of Education policies that foreshadowed the threats to accreditation and broader attacks on academic freedom that we now see. We likely all remember the draft list of keywords that were leaked on Reddit in the initial days of the second Trump administration. We knew then that the US government would be using those keywords to decide if grants would be terminated, and that those keywords, ranging from “cultural heritage” to “female,” encompassed the entirety of our discipline. The first round of cuts from DOGE and from different government agencies came shortly after. Billions of dollars in grant funding were terminated by the Trump administration. Some of this funding has been reclaimed by negotiations or legal action, but the actual number of funds cut or canceled is likely around $10 billion. These cuts have resulted in underemployment or job losses for faculty and students, myself included. On top of this, the administration has attempted to cap reimbursement for indirect costs to 15%, meaning that less research can be done, and that university personnel whose jobs rely on these indirect costs will be underpaid or let go. The indirect costs cap efforts are largely held up in the courts, but that is not cause for optimism. The courts are generally conservative, and are not a guarantee that Congress will not pass a law in line with these efforts.
I speak now from personal experience on the issue, and I am certain that a number of anthropologists have had experiences fairly similar to my own. I am an ABD doctoral candidate who, until a couple months ago, worked as a research assistant through a federally funded project. Prior to working on the research project, I worked as a teaching assistant. Working with students has always brought me joy and asked me to consider new perspectives. I loved that job, but I believed that being a research assistant was a fantastic opportunity. Of course, being a research assistant also paid me more than I have ever made before in my career, and provided me with health insurance that I did not have in my previous position. In many ways, I needed this job for my own personal safety and security. Professionally, I wanted to work as a research assistant for a variety of reasons. I was able to build professional interdisciplinary connections that I would not have made otherwise. I have been able to add points to my CV that feel even more worthwhile now that I am on the job market months earlier than I had planned. Most importantly, I had the opportunity to do profound research on a topic that would be important in theory and practice.
Like many other federal grants, the project I worked on was terminated by DOGE. I was very afraid in February and March 2025 when cuts were first occurring, and that fear was proven true. I wish all of our projects were still fully funded. I would love to be in a time or place where I am on the job market with a more established CV that had full publications, rather than lines for in-progress articles to show that I was academically productive. Even more than that, I have a passion for doing research that I feel has practical applications. The ability to do that research was taken from me this time, and having to have conversations about whether the research was still feasible without funding was heartbreaking. Not knowing how I would have an income or health insurance was terrifying.
At this point, you’re probably wondering what the research that I worked on was, what keywords were or weren’t used, and why the research was ultimately targeted by the defunding chainsaw. The honest truth is that I cannot reasonably be more specific about the research project because of the potential for further backlash. It is why I am choosing to put forth this piece anonymously despite feeling that I would benefit from a much-desired CV line, and any potential professional recognition. Since funding cuts began, so many things have happened that the research of anthropologists could have helped address: ICE kidnappings, mass shootings, and natural disasters name only a few. Much like the Trump administration’s cuts to vaccine research, cancer research, environmental research, or countless other projects, I know that the research I worked on was meaningful scientifically, but could very well have been meaningful for future policy. People have died, and people will continue to die, as a result of the Trump administration’s attacks on higher education.
Moreover, the Trump administration has also taken action based on the common values of upholding diversity, equity, and inclusion that we as anthropologists share with institutions of higher education. The administration sent a “Dear Colleague” letter threatening to terminate all federal funding from a college or university unless they stopped “using race preferences” as a factor in admissions, hiring, scholarship, or other areas of campus life. While the legal implications of this letter were blocked by the courts, 23 states have already chosen to comply with its directive. This has already impacted students and faculty across the US in ways that we may not yet fully understand with investigations being launched into dozens of colleges or universities for continuing to adhere to diversity, equity, and inclusion standards in admissions and hiring. There have also been federal efforts to revoke thousands of international student visas and to deport student activists who have been publicly critical of the administration, especially students who have spoken out in support of Palestine. Simultaneously, dozens more investigations have been launched into colleges and universities that have tried to protect their student activists, with the government accusing the institutions of promoting antisemitism. We cannot yet know what more may happen as a result of the federal government shutdown.
In the wake of the murder of conservative media personality Charlie Kirk, all of these actions by the Trump administration are even more charged. Conservatives in government, in media, and in everyday life have made calls for action—and in some cases violence—against anyone that they deem as not aligned with the views of the Trump administration. For colleges and universities, this has resulted in threats of violence and doxxing against faculty and staff as well as some faculty and students being punished or fired for their comments following Charlie Kirk’s death. Many of these activities, before and after Kirk’s murder, have been blatant attacks on free speech and academic freedom.
In less than a year, the Trump administration has rapidly eroded the norms and values of higher education institutions. To paraphrase the television show Andor, this oppression often outpaces our ability to understand it, and it is easier for the regime to hide behind dozens of attacks. This is because we feel as though it is impossible to respond to them all, and it feels even more true with the leadership of numerous colleges and universities making deals and resigning due to political pressures, or with colleagues fleeing the country or facing deportation.
By now, all of these things likely feel irreversible. We may even feel defeated, panicked, and unaware of what the future holds. I know that I have felt as much. In my deepest moments of defeat in this past year, only days after my research assistantship had been terminated by the actions of the Trump administration, I had the opportunity to attend and present at an interdisciplinary conference of researchers and practitioners. It was reinvigorating to be able to present the work I had done and foster new partnerships. While there I met faculty and students like me whose funding had been cut, employees from multiple federal agencies whose careers had been terminated, and countless others whose lives had been negatively impacted by the Trump administration. Each one of them could have chosen to be defeatist or angry, but instead they all chose kindness that was radical in its reach and thoroughness. This radical kindness was welcoming, encouraging, and energizing. Everyone I spoke with seemed in agreement that through simply extending kindness to those around us, that we might build a communal strength to carry on.
I still believe this to be true even after everything that has happened since my time as a research assistant came to an end. I feel in my bones that this kindness in the face of defeat and anger is how we begin again. I do not want to say that our kindness should extend even to our oppressors, but it must extend to those around us. We must continue to exercise what kindness we can to each other, from our university leadership to our colleagues and our students. We must do this to help share the weight of oppression in the face of this regime. In the same vein, I also know that we cannot stop resisting, and in fact must be louder and clearer now than ever before. We must continue every ounce of research that we can, and we must present our knowledge as publicly and as accessibly as we can. In a time where academia is being attacked, we must be anthropologists not just for the sake of developing the knowledge of our field, but for the sake of the general public.
Furthermore, we must plan for the future, in multiple ways. We must build new partnerships in our communities and our academic institutions. In these ways we can attempt to prepare, as many colleges and universities have started to do, to find ways to work together and weather some of the pain inflicted by the Trump administration. My own university, as well as others, have implemented plans to help provide for students and staff who have been financially disrupted by the Trump administration. Other universities have formed alliances to help each other challenge unconstitutional executive orders in court. Through planning and making partnerships, we foster community. In fostering community, we must finally plan for what we will do when we have helped to bring about better days. We must plan to do more research while staying connected with the general public. We must plan to keep partnerships alive by bringing new students into community and helping them grow. Last, but not least, we must continue to offer radical kindness that always reaffirms our values of diversity, equity, and inclusion.