The physics community stands at a crossroads as politics reshapes the funding landscape and the freedom to travel and collaborate comes under scrutiny. This isn’t a distant policy debate; it’s a lived reality for students, researchers, and professors who fear for the next grant, the next conference, the next visa stamp. A recent informal survey of American Physical Society (APS) members—conducted by the Physics Advocacy Collaboration and led by Michael B. Bennett—spins a human map of what scientists actually need when their work is most endangered. The study, though not a peer‑reviewed paper in the traditional sense, offers a candid snapshot of a field trying to preserve its people as much as its projects. The sentence that anchors it all is simple and provocative: this is about advocacy for physicists as people, not just advocacy for physics as a budget line item.
The report was produced by the Physics Advocacy Collaboration, a grassroots initiative within the American Physical Society (APS), with Michael B. Bennett as the lead author. It’s not a university lab study or a government census; it’s a member-led effort to understand what APS members need right now and how the society can translate values into actions that actually help the people who carry physics forward. The aim isn’t to pretend this is a perfect, universal instrument of policy, but to illuminate a human terrain: where fear and hope intersect, and where solidarity could make a material difference to careers, families, and communities of learners.
What emerges from the pages that follow is not a laundry list of reforms but a focused argument: in a moment when science faces deliberate political pressure, the most meaningful moves are not only about funding formulas or national statistics. They are about opening channels of trust, building practical supports, and uniting physicists across subfields, career stages, and institutions. This is a story about renewal through connection, about turning institutional values into concrete aid, and about recognizing that science’s strength comes from the people who practice it every day. It’s a call to lead with empathy, not just with budgets.
A Society in the Eye of the Storm
The context is stark: in early 2025 the political climate foregrounded aggressive attempts to slow or reshape U.S. science funding, with federal priorities tilting toward restrictions on basic research and a noticeable chilling effect on STEM education and diversity initiatives. The survey’s framing situates APS within this storm, noting moves that threaten not only who gets funded but who may stay in the lab, travel for conferences, or mentor the next generation. It’s a reminder that research outcomes are inseparable from the people who generate them; policy choices ripple through every corridor of a university, every visa office, every conference hall.
In the survey, 101 APS members answered questions about communication, needs, and impact. The findings offer a nuanced balance: a strong majority feel that APS is supportive, care about members’ needs, and will remain a reliable source of guidance. Between 74% and 80% agreed with statements that APS is meeting those expectations—an encouraging indicator in a moment of political strain. Yet the flip side is telling: as many as 26% did not agree that APS would continue to be a reliable source of support in the future, and 23% did not feel that APS currently supports them. The numbers don’t add up to a perfect portrait; they reveal a real strain between perception of values and perception of lived support. The authors highlight an observable disconnect between how APS talks about its values and how it translates those values into action on behalf of members.
Even more revealing is the split between values and personal backing. While a sizable 90% said APS commits to upholding its stated values, only 68% agreed that APS is committed to supporting members in the face of hardship. In essence, two-thirds feel the society speaks in broad terms about fairness and integrity, but a sizable minority senses a gap when it comes to tangible, day-to-day relief in hard times. This isn’t just a mismatch in tone; it’s a question about whether an organization’s rhetoric matches the immediate, human needs of its members. The report treats this as a warning flag, not a judgment—an invitation to close the gap by listening more, clarifying policy, and widening the circle of support to people who are currently in danger or distress.
Open-ended responses flesh out the mood behind the numbers: fear about the future, anxiety over visa and immigration hurdles, and a sense that students and colleagues could be caught in political crosswinds. Some respondents referenced “blacklists” or travel travel restrictions and described a palpable sensation of being abandoned by institutions or by the broader political climate. The qualitative material isn’t a drama; it’s a ledger of everyday hazards that can derail careers and derail curiosity. The authors argue that these responses should be treated as a cautious indictment of a policy climate, but also as a practical guide for what APS could do next to safeguard people as well as projects.
Members, Needs, and the Ask for Action
If Section 1 is the weather forecast, Section 2 reads like a shopping list for survival. The survey asked members to weigh several potential supports against their usefulness in the current climate. The results are decisively practical: resources for finding robust career pathways (69%), guidance on locating local science-advocacy resources (74%), and the idea of a coalition of professional societies to address the systemic impacts on science (75%) were the items most favored by respondents. A majority also saw value in spaces where members could connect with one another about current issues (67%).
Importantly, respondents did not see these ideas as optional fluff; they saw them as necessary scaffolding for a community under pressure. Nearly half of respondents (47%) said they would value an emergency fund for members, 38% sought connections to legal resources, and 46% asked for resources to help with immigration issues affecting themselves, their students, or their colleagues. Taken together, the numbers paint a picture of a community that wants both systemic protection and practical, immediate aid. It isn’t enough to lobby for the health of science in the abstract; physicists are asking for concrete tools to protect their own safety, mobility, and livelihoods.
The data also reveal interesting demographic nuance. Early-career respondents (grad students, postdocs, and junior researchers) were notably more enthusiastic about career pathways and local advocacy resources, while late-career respondents leaned more toward coalition-building. This isn’t a critique of priorities so much as a reminder that different life stages bring different kinds of needs. If APS aims to be truly member-centered, it will need to offer a menu of options that can flex to the rhythms of people’s careers, from the bench to the boardroom.
As with any survey not bound to a formal statistical protocol, the authors emphasize that the report is a snapshot rather than a claim of universal truth. Still, the patterns are hard to ignore: members want a culture of practical empathy—tangible programs that reflect the very human costs of political decisions—and a clear, accessible pathway to collaborate across societies and borders to defend the scientific community as a public good.
What This Means for Science and Society
The implications extend beyond APS’s internal politics. The authors argue for a reframing of advocacy as person-focused advocacy that sits beside policy advocacy rather than competing with it. That means emergency funds, legal resources, and immigration support—tools that protect people first, while still connecting to the broader objective of sustaining science funding and policy influence. In other words, “standing up for science” must also mean standing up for the scientists who do science every day, especially those most vulnerable to political whim.
The call for broader collaboration is another core thread. The survey reveals a practical appetite for cross‑society coalitions, not just within APS or the American Institute of Physics ecosystem. The authors point to the potential power of broad, coalition-based advocacy—an antidote to the impression that scientific groups are islands in a political sea. A more integrated, alliance-driven approach could amplify voices, reduce duplication of effort, and present a united front to policymakers—precisely the kind of mobilization that has proven effective in other policy battles.
There is also a critique of leadership style. The authors challenge APS—and by extension, other societies—to name the threats they confront and to act decisively in solidarity with members. They argue that waiting for perfect consensus or a universally optimal action is a trap that cedes ground to those who would use political power to suppress inquiry. The proposed path is not incendiary; it’s openly pragmatic: be explicit about who is being harmed, offer direct channels for input, and demonstrate that advocacy is rooted in people’s welfare, not only in institutional prestige or budgetary outcomes.
Perhaps the most enduring thread is a call to shift the moral center of science advocacy. If “impact” becomes a proxy for applause in policy circles, the human costs—visa delays, deportations, health care losses, family disruption—risk being erased from the ledger. The authors insist that “impact” should be reframed as the flourishing of the entire scientific community, especially those most vulnerable to political volatility. In other words, the future of physics depends on how well the community protects its people, not just how deftly it negotiates budgets.
So what next? The report does not pretend to have all the answers. It does, however, offer a blueprint for turning values into action: open channels for member feedback; build coalitions that extend beyond a single society; create visible, concrete supports for individuals; and speak with clarity about the human stakes behind every policy decision. It’s a call to leadership to prove that a professional society can be both principled and practical, both a defender of science and a guardian of its scientists.
In the spirit of that call, the closing message isn’t victory speech but a simple invitation: if you’re a physicist, or someone who cares about what science makes possible in society, join the conversation. The APS, and the wider scientific community, will be stronger if they listen deeply, respond decisively, and act together for the people who sustain their work. The future of physics may depend on how well organizations learn to advocate for physicists as people—not only for physics as a policy target.
