In April 2017, I was in Lisbon for the spring meeting of the International Particle Physics Outreach Group (IPPOG). At the time, I was working at CERN, and our gathering coincided with the March for Science, held on April 22 in more than 600 cities worldwide to protest the Trump administration’s anti-science rhetoric. Many believed then that clearer communication of science could help push back against “alternative facts” and science denialism.

Eight years later, the outlook is far bleaker in Trump’s second term. What started as scattered pushback against credible data has hardened into an orchestrated purge—federal researchers ousted, budgets slashed, and “sensitive” words erased from government websites. Once-disparate cries of “fake news” and “alternative facts” have calcified into a federal doctrine, undermining scientific integrity at its core.

Earlier this month, the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS) held its annual conference in Boston under the banner “Science Shaping Tomorrow.” Yet, by many accounts, uncertainty and anxiety dominated the corridors. Many scientists, policy specialists, and science communicators avoided wearing name badges or disclosing institutional affiliations, fearing retaliation. Some spoke privately about exit strategies, considering a move to countries with more hospitable research environments.

The threats to scientific freedom and independence are more than symbolic. Over the last six weeks, entire webpages and datasets have disappeared from federal health agencies, including the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), the National Institutes of Health (NIH), and the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), following directives from the Trump administration to remove references to “gender,” “transgender,” and “LGBT.” The American Cancer Society (ACS) has warned that erasing such data undermines evidence-based medicine and clinical decision-making.

Several agencies have even halted or rewritten manuscripts containing banned terms, triggering lawsuits from groups like Doctors for America (DFA), which sued HHS, the CDC, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), and the Office of Personnel Management over the censorship and elimination of data on federal websites. A federal judge, John D. Bates, has since ordered the restoration of certain webpages and datasets, mandating that agencies revert them to their January 30 versions, and identify any other resources removed without adequate notice or explanation. However, concerns persist that crucial public health records may be permanently lost.

At the recent AAAS conference, attendees described a climate of deepening distrust and a chilling effect on scientific collaboration. Optimism and unease coexisted in stark contrast. On stage, speakers extolled innovation and interdisciplinary synergy. But away from the microphones, the conversations turned to survival. Could mentioning climate change now put a scientist’s funding at risk? As research is suppressed, the atmosphere of apprehension only deepens. When knowledge is silenced, the consequences are global—threatening public health, food security, and environmental resilience.

This clampdown on science is not a niche concern for researchers—it’s a crisis for society. Suppressing knowledge does not stop climate change or pandemics. It only weakens our ability to respond. The White House’s assault on scientific integrity may bring short-term gains for certain interest groups, but the long-term damage to evidence-based policymaking will be profound.

Still, resistance is gathering strength. Scientists—and the institutions that drive innovation—understand that silence is complicity. Stand Up for Science (SFS), a nationwide movement rallying on March 7, is demanding the restoration of scientific integrity and public access to evidence-based knowledge. Their platform calls for the reinstatement of federal research funding, protections against political censorship, and safeguards for scientific independence. SFS is urging policymakers to rehire wrongfully dismissed federal scientists, restore public access to scrubbed scientific data, and ensure that government-funded research remains free from political interference. The movement also defends diversity, equity, and inclusion in STEM, recognizing that science thrives when it serves all people. By forging alliances with professional societies and community networks, both at home and abroad, SFS hopes not just to resist political overreach but to reaffirm science’s role as a public good and pillar of progress.

Safeguarding evidence-based decision-making for future generations requires keeping data, methods, and inquiry free from political intimidation. The question is no longer whether the scientific community will march again—it’s whether they, along with a public that values facts, can sustain that march long enough to reclaim a space where truth, not fear, shapes national policy.

Though the AAAS conference’s official slogan was “Science Shaping Tomorrow,” many left with a more pressing realization: securing the future demands political resolve in the present. Free inquiry cannot survive overt censorship, and researchers cannot carry out their work under constant threat. The spirit of the 2017 March for Science endures, but the Stand Up for Science movement channels that energy into something more urgent than celebration—a battle for the survival of knowledge itself. The real test is whether collective action can hold leaders accountable—and keep science a public good.