Since the beginning of 2025, many journalists have found themselves in one of the toughest phases of their careers. The second Trump administration has systematically dismantled the practice of science in the U.S. Entire government agencies are under attack, as mass layoffs, budget cuts, or reorganizations have crippled the National Institutes of Health, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the National Weather Service, the Department of Agriculture, and more. Universities and individual researchers across the country, too, are facing cancelled grants, sweeping shifts in funding priorities, and crackdowns on acceptable research agendas. These devastating blows to research will have decades-long or even irreversible impacts.
News of the administration’s latest actions arrives in a deluge every day, and nearly every beat that reporters cover now intersects in some way with politics. Reporters are also contending with government-fueled distortions of scientific facts, as well as sources who are reluctant to speak on the record due to fear of retribution. Many science journalists who once spent much of their time writing about incremental scientific developments and the obscure minutiae of academia have become, sometimes reluctantly, full-time policy reporters. In fact, reporters of all stripes are being tasked with chronicling the fallout of the most rapid and comprehensive change in the American scientific enterprise in recent history.
I convened a roundtable discussion with five journalists whose coverage of science has been upended by the current U.S. administration. Between assignments, they shared the challenges they’ve faced while reporting in recent months, and some of the workarounds they’ve found to disentangle fact from fiction, work with hesitant sources, and strike the right balance between science and politics.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. The journalists who participated in the discussion were:
Kimberly Cartier, senior science reporter at Eos
Pien Huang, health correspondent for NPR
Benji Jones, environmental correspondent at Vox
Jocelyn Kaiser, writer and online policy editor for Science Magazine
Hayley Smith, environment reporter for the Los Angeles Times
Rachel: Since it became clear that there would be a second Trump term, politics have entered the discussion for almost every science-related story. What strategies are you using to ensure that your stories balance science and politics these days?
Hayley: It’s more important than ever to “show your work.” If I’m covering a new policy proposal, I often have to fact-check what the Trump administration is saying. For example, the president said that opening up national forestland for timber harvesting will reduce wildfires. We know it’s not that simple. So, I then need to include a few paragraphs in the story about the role of forest management on the state’s landscape, the varying scientific opinions about the effects of logging, and the difference between thinning and clear-cutting when it comes to fire behavior.
Kimberly: One of my standard interview questions to ask my sources for science-forward stories is “What’s next for this research?” And these days, more often than not the answer is “Well, we don’t know,” or “This grant was cancelled.” Follow-up questions can probe into what the grant was, from which agency, under what budget line, or if it ran afoul of any particular executive order or presidential directive. Just be careful of inserting politics where none might be—there are still (small) pockets of scientific research in the world that are not affected by what’s happening in the U.S.
My inbox is flooded with [potential news] items every day—which is part of the administration’s “flood the zone” strategy. They are overwhelming us intentionally. — Hayley Smith, the Los Angeles Times
Benji: I write a lot about the Endangered Species Act (ESA), which offers clear examples of where politics often distort science or shape how science is interpreted. There is more of a gulf between the data and the decisions in this administration. That means I spend more time explaining the lens through which this administration is viewing the science and how that ultimately shapes their decisions around, say, listing species under the ESA.
Often, I find that there’s reader fatigue when it comes to politics stories, especially if they’re negative (or expected—rollback of an environmental regulation, for example), and so I will sometimes find myself sneaking in the political consequences [or] implications after explaining the more straightforward science: “Now that you understand why X is important and interesting, here are the stakes in the current political environment.”
Pien: Public health is inherently political, because it’s about crafting guidance and policies—people need to adopt and follow them in order for them to work. That said, it’s become highly politicized during COVID and especially now.
I’ve been focused on explaining to people what’s changed and how it’s changed. And helping people understand what science is being used as the basis for statements and policy changes, and whether those with knowledge on a topic think the interpretation of the science is sound, amplified, [or] distorted.
Rachel: This administration has done more in a few months to change the practice of science than most have their entire terms. How do you decide what to cover, when so many possible stories emerge each day?
Hayley: My inbox is flooded with [potential news] items every day—which is part of the administration’s “flood the zone” strategy. They are overwhelming us intentionally. If there are multiple items bubbling up, I’ll ask my editor to help me prioritize. Or, sometimes I’ll tackle multiple items in a given day with a few quick-hit short articles just to get things on the record. If it’s an incremental development of a larger story—like, say, a bill that advances but hasn’t passed yet, I may hold off on coverage until we know the final outcome.
Also, if an outlet like the Associated Press has already run a story on the item, I will think about what I can add to the coverage that is new. In my case, that’s typically a California angle or a perspective that will be of interest to readers here on the West Coast.
Kimberly: We’re a smaller newsroom at a membership organization. So, we developed a few different ways to document the rapid pace of news. We have a tracker for short and quick updates, proposed or pending changes, or ongoing actions we’re watching. We have a blog that allows us to provide critical context and commentary from the science community but still get the news out to our readers in a timely way. And, of course, we have our traditional news articles that allow us to go even more in-depth and connect the dots for our readers, which can take longer and might not always be the best approach for the situation.
Benji: It’s hard not to jump on everything. I want to explain what’s going on! But it doesn’t make sense for us to tell the same story as a dozen other newsrooms, especially if it’s not something we think our audience cares about (or should care about).
We tend to jump on a topic when there’s a lot of confusion in the public discourse about it, trying to offer clarity. “High stakes” is an incredibly important filter for us. Often, I’ll jump on a story about something that seems niche [or] obscure but reveals something much greater about the Trump administration’s approach or has far reaching implications for ecosystems and human communities. I’ll also let my own knowledge areas guide my reporting. Where can we offer a quick analysis that other outlets can’t? How can I apply what I’ve learned over the years about the ESA or NOAA to changes we’re seeing in this administration?
Rachel: What strategies do you use to report when changes are constantly getting reversed, or when rumors turn out not to be true, or when a story is actively changing as you report it?
Benji: I try to be as clear as possible about what we know and don’t know and spell out whether or not something is a rumor. I worked on a package this spring about clean energy in the new Trump era, and how the industry will still grow despite Trump’s animus towards renewables. We had to grapple with a lot of uncertainty. One approach I used was to zoom out and think about the big trends—what won’t be impacted by term-to-term policies but relies on larger economic forces.
I’ve been experiencing a paradox—it’s easier to hear from sources within agencies about what’s going on. Many we’ve spoken with feel a sense of urgency and responsibility to share what they’re seeing…. At the same time, generally, it’s been harder to get people to speak using their names on the record. — Pien Huang, NPR
We’re also not afraid to keep updating a piece (with clear indications that it’s been updated) as new information comes out. Often—such as with this piece [about protections for monarch butterflies]—instead of speculating about what the administration might do, I’ll just explain what different decisions might mean.
Jocelyn: At Science, we’re holding back on covering some stories when the information we’re getting seems to be evolving. In other cases, we’ll put, “This is a developing story” at the bottom of the piece, then add new reporting and revise as needed. We’re also making use of “Update” notes at the top or bottom (depending on how big the change is). [In the case of] a recent story on NIH’s grant freeze at Columbia University, we initially got memos from NIH saying the freeze was being lifted (and reported this). Hours later, new memos said the freeze was back on. We revised the story accordingly and added an “Update” note.
Rachel: What changes have you seen in the availability of scientist sources or their willingness to be interviewed? What strategies have helped you address those changes and ensure that your stories remain accurate and representative of diverse and necessary perspectives?
Hayley: I’ve encountered several scientists who are skittish about going on the record. One asked that I not use the name of their research lab in a story because it was reliant on federal funding, and at least two others have asked me not to use their names at all for similar reasons. It’s chilling. That said, if a source declines to give their name, we have to provide a reason in the story. In these cases, I’ve found that noting it can actually help drive home the topic of the story—for example: “Here is the quote,” said a scientist at a major research institution, who declined to give their name for fear of retaliation.
Jocelyn: My main beat now is policy at the NIH, and the sources I communicate with changed dramatically after January 20. Before that, I mostly spoke with NIH officials through calls set up by the communications office. I had barely heard of Signal (the secure messaging app). Now, I’m in regular contact via Signal with several NIH scientists and a larger group less often—the resistance. They are eager to share memos and other information about the constant changes in grants policy, effects of layoffs, purchasing freezes, etc. Most want to stay anonymous, but a few are willing to be quoted by name.
It’s true that in stories Science writes about Trump’s cuts to science budgets and grants and scientist layoffs, it is implicit that these are bad moves. If the administration put forth data or analysis supporting these actions, of course we would include that in our reporting, but there has been none. — Jocelyn Kaiser, Science Magazine
Pien: I’ve been experiencing a paradox—it’s easier to hear from sources within agencies about what’s going on. Many we’ve spoken with feel a sense of urgency and responsibility to share what they’re seeing and going through, and how these changes are impacting their ability to serve the public. At the same time, generally, it’s been harder to get people to speak using their names on the record, over concerns about professional or personal retribution.
I’m grateful to be getting information from sources directly, and once I get a clear picture from multiple sources, I try to find someone who’s a degree or two removed to comment on it [on the record]. For instance, [for] a May 2025 story on the state of the CDC, I heard from many people who could not speak on the record about what they were going through. I ran the concerns they had raised by several CDC alumni to see if they had heard similar things. They had, and they reflected on the concerns from a place of being able to speak more freely.
Rachel: Where do you strike the balance between advocacy and objectivity at this point? Right now, doing or writing about science (especially in terms of the administration’s actions) can itself be political. How are you thinking about the purpose of your work in this moment?
Kimberly: The fact that most U.S. science is funded through the political process has made science a political endeavor, and it has been further politicized and made into a partisan issue. However, there is plenty of objective evidence about the benefits of science to the world—from vaccines to climate mitigation to science’s ability to spark imagination and wonder. It’s not advocacy to report on the benefits of science and that attacks on science are harmful—all of that is backed up by facts, and those facts should back up our reporting.
[According to the Society of Professional Journalist’s Code of Ethics], ethical journalists should “seek truth and report it,” “minimize harm,” “act independently,” and “be accountable and transparent.” It’s not advocacy to report that climate change is a major threat to the world and that efforts to curtail climate action are harmful. It’s not advocacy to write about how mass firings harm people, communities, and scientific progress. It’s not advocacy, or partisan, to report that most of the attacks on science recently have come almost exclusively from one political party and its leader. It’s not advocacy to point out that limiting youth STEM outreach is likely to harm the U.S.’s global leadership in science for generations to come. It’s also not advocacy to report, “Here’s how people are fighting back.” That’s simply reporting the truth and holding power accountable.
Jocelyn: It’s true that in stories Science writes about Trump’s cuts to science budgets and grants and scientist layoffs, it is implicit that these are bad moves. If the administration put forth data or analysis supporting these actions, of course we would include that in our reporting, but there has been none. I think that this is a case where policies are so blatantly political and wrong that there is no way to “balance” stories. I think at this point, much of what I’m doing as a journalist is documenting these actions at NIH and, as they say, writing the first draft of history.
Hayley: I get a lot of angry emails from people, often Trump supporters, who accuse me of pushing some kind of liberal agenda for reporting on climate change and its impacts. It’s no secret where this notion comes from—if you read the chapter of Project 2025 that recommends dismantling NOAA and the National Weather Service, it says it’s because those agencies are contributing to the “climate change alarm industry.” But the administration can’t change the facts just because they don’t like them. And it’s our job to keep sharing them, even if the powers-that-be are making them harder to find. What’s more, I find that the objective data often speaks volumes without having to add additional commentary. The global temperature is climbing, disasters are increasing. It’s right there in black and white. Reporting facts isn’t advocacy—it’s simply reporting.
Rachel Crowell is a freelance math and science journalist and editor whose work has appeared in Quanta Magazine, Scientific American, Science News, Science News Explores, APS News, Nature Careers, and more. Find them on LinkedIn and Authory.