top of page
Search

Between Science and Silence: Why I’m Shelving My Story

  • Writer: Sarah Johnson
    Sarah Johnson
  • 20 hours ago
  • 3 min read

I have spent more than twenty years of my career working to make science accessible to people from all walks of life. My life’s work has been dedicated to fostering community, empowering underrepresented voices, and addressing the critical "knowledge voice gaps" that leave rural and coastal residents out of the conversations that affect their very survival. I have been fortunate to witness the transformative power of programs that build a sense of belonging, helping students see themselves not just as passive observers, but as active participants in a global scientific endeavor.


But today, in January 2026, I find myself at a heartbreaking crossroads.

I was prepared to publish an invited chapter in a forthcoming international book, Co-Creating Sustainable Futures: Capacity Sharing in Circumpolar Regions (published by Brill), celebrating initiatives that are making a significant impact on our world. The manuscript was complete. The data from 2023–2025 was robust. The narrative was ready. Instead, I am forced to shelve the story.


The reason is as chilling as the northern waters I teach others about: a "tripwire" list of nearly 200 terms has transformed the language of progress into a liability. Words that are fundamental to my teaching and research—inclusive, marginalized, justice, climate change, and even sustainability—have been flagged. Under current federal funding guidelines, using these terms now triggers immediate reviews that can lead to the abrupt termination of vital research and the silencing of programs that have taken decades to build.


My team and I have been asked to "stand down" and to be cautious—to fly under the radar. It is understood that if we want our work to continue, we must scrub our language or remain silent.


This is more than just a struggle over vocabulary; it is an erasure of reality. When we are forbidden from using words like "underrepresented," we lose the ability to describe who is being left behind. When we cannot discuss "community-led adaptation," we strip agency from the people living on the front lines of environmental collapse. By silencing the language of equity and climate science, we are effectively silencing the science itself.


Shelving this manuscript is one of the most agonizing professional experiences of my career. Beyond the data, it feels like a betrayal of the communities I serve and the students who poured their hopes for the future into our project. It is deeply painful to be held back from sharing this work—to lose the opportunity for our efforts to be recognized in a prestigious international volume after months of preparation. Yet, I am faced with an impossible choice: publish the story and risk the total loss of federal support, or remain silent to ensure the work itself survives. I am choosing to protect the program's future, even at the cost of my own professional voice.


I am shelving this story today so that the work can survive until tomorrow.


To my colleagues, the editors of the upcoming volume, and the communities waiting to be heard: the manuscript is ready. The evidence is gathered. The truth of what is happening in our changing world remains, even if we are currently forbidden from naming it. We are entering a period of strategic silence, but silence is not absence. We will continue to watch, to measure, and to wait for a season when science is once again allowed to speak its name.


The following words from this blog above are on the federal trigger list:

bottom of page