The Trump Administration’s NIH Cuts Will Harm Everyone. Especially People in Red States

The National Institutes of Health (NIH) is the largest funder of biomedical research in the world, and it belongs to the American people. It’s not a private company. It’s not Big Pharma. It’s our tax dollars at work, and its impact is felt in every state. Its work is neither ideological nor partisan. It creates jobs and funds research that have led to breakthroughs in cancer treatment, vaccines, and life-saving medications that touch the lives of millions—whether they live in a blue coastal city or in a rural red county in Appalachia.

That’s why the Trump administration’s decision to cap NIH indirect costs at 15 percent is so egregious and carries far-reaching consequences. These costs—often derided as “administrative overhead”—are essential for keeping research institutions operational. Without them, labs can’t function, clinical trials are delayed, and life-saving discoveries progress at a slower pace.

This is part of a broader ideological assault on public institutions. Research universities, public health agencies, and federal science funding bodies are seen as threats because they produce knowledge independent of political control. The same forces attacking NIH are undermining climate science, dismantling public health infrastructure, and gutting expert agencies like the CDC and FDA. And it’s the latest escalation in a decades-long ideological assault on government that has become so extreme that even funding cancer research is now collateral damage.

The harm isn’t hypothetical. For years, NIH has recognized that biomedical research isn’t just about breakthroughs in labs; it’s about ensuring those breakthroughs reach the communities that need them most. The grants put on the chopping block fund both direct costs—like salaries, lab equipment, and clinical trials—and indirect costs, which sustain research infrastructure, from lab space to regulatory compliance. Capping indirect costs at 15 percent doesn’t cut waste; it guts the research enterprise. Without operational support, universities slash programs, cut staff, and deprioritize the exploratory science that drives medical breakthroughs.

Take cancer mortality rates. While deaths have declined nationally, they remain stubbornly high across Appalachia, where access to screening, treatment, and clinical trials is severely limited. That’s why the National Cancer Institute (NCI) prioritized funding prevention and treatment programs in states like Ohio, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia—all red states. This wasn’t about politics. It was about saving lives.

One of the most striking initiatives during my time at NCI was the FCC-NCI Broadband Cancer Collaboration, a cross-government effort to close the broadband gap in Appalachia. In West Virginia, some cancer patients live hundreds of miles from the nearest medical facility. Expanding telehealth means they could receive specialized care without the burden of extensive travel. Public investment bridges that gap, ensuring that the benefits of scientific discoveries reach everyone, regardless of their zip code or political beliefs.

The same is true for historically disinvested regions. NIH has expanded research funding to the South, the Dakotas, and institutions across the Southwest—areas long overlooked by scientific investment.

Yet today, some of the very states that benefit most from public biomedical research are standing by as the Trump administration moves to gut it.

On February 10, a federal judge temporarily blocked the policy across 22 states, after a group of Democratic attorneys general filed lawsuits to stop the measure. Notably absent from the lawsuit were most Republican-led states, even though universities and medical centers in those states also depend heavily on NIH funding. While this ruling offers a temporary reprieve for some, the damage is already evident—injecting uncertainty into long-term research projects, causing hesitancy in hiring, and prompting institutions to prepare for funding shortfalls.

The effort to defund the NIH is also a direct hit to local economies nationwide, particularly in red states that rely heavily on NIH funding.

Consider North Carolina, Texas, and Ohio—states that have historically leaned conservative. Their universities and medical centers are among the top recipients of NIH grants, fueling not just scientific innovation but thousands of jobs and billions of dollars in economic activity. In 2024, these states ranked 6th, 7th, and 10th respectively among states receiving the most NIH funding. In Texas alone, NIH grants supported nearly 30,000 jobs and generated nearly $6 billion in economic activity. But all three states declined to join the legal challenge against the administration’s cuts, despite the harm the policy would inflict on their own research institutions and the communities they serve. NIH has long been regarded as the crown jewel of the federal government because research is not partisan. The impact of NIH-funded research is undeniable. Since 1991, cancer deaths have decreased by 33 percent thanks to treatments and screening protocols developed with federal support. NIH research has been pivotal in every single new drug approved between 2010 and 2019. It funded the first clot-busting stroke medication (tPA); led to vaccines for HPV, hepatitis A, RSV, and COVID-19; and pioneered CRISPR gene-editing technology. These public-powered achievements have extended and improved the lives of millions, and they belong to all Americans, regardless of party affiliation.

Yet, if we fail to defend its work now, the damage will be profound, far-reaching, and generational. Now is the time for scientific institutions to rethink how they engage, communicate, and advocate for the very research that shapes modern medicine before it’s too late.