In June, Vincent Munster, an infectious disease researcher at the National Institutes of Health, was charged with bringing biological specimens into the U.S. without proper documents. Weeks later, Sen. Rand Paul (R-Ky.) ordered Anthony Fauci, Munster’s former boss, to appear before a Senate committee, alleging that he’d lied to Congress about the covid-19 pandemic’s origins. This spring, the FBI detained a former aide to Fauci, and federal officials banned a virus researcher in North Carolina from receiving federal funding.

In each case, senior U.S. officials and members of Congress have leaned into unproven theories that arrogant scientists damaged rather than protected public health by recklessly experimenting with covid and other killer viruses, including in China.

Conservative groups and social influencers have amplified that view through a whirlwind of covid conspiracy theories, bioterrorism fearmongering, and anti-immigration sentiment. The recent charges stirred long-held mistrust of the high-security Rocky Mountain Laboratories, where Munster works, among residents of this blue-collar mountain town in Montana built on logging.

A dozen scientists interviewed for this article said that any crimes or errors committed by Munster, who was transporting vials of inactivated mpox for research purposes, seemed to be over paperwork and posed no threat to the public. Nonetheless, some colleagues in Montana said, the alleged improprieties needlessly bat a hornet’s nest.

“This just gives ammunition to the people that are trying to stop this valuable research,” said Kim Hasenkrug, a scientist emeritus at the NIH who worked at Rocky Mountain Labs for 31 years. “Even people who have trusted us in the past, this sows seeds of distrust. How could it not?”

Cuts to U.S. foreign aid and research funding have left tens of millions of dollars in gaps in the fight against spreading Ebola and mpox outbreaks, scientists told ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News. “When the next pandemic comes around and we need vaccines to protect ourselves, the chances are that China will develop them before we do,” said Kristian Andersen, an evolutionary biologist at Scripps Research. Andersen co-authored studies that stoked the ire of proponents of the theory that a lab leak started the covid pandemic.

Emily Hilliard, a spokesperson for the Department of Health and Human Services, which includes the NIH, said the federal government “remains fully equipped to protect Americans and respond to emerging public health threats.” She said the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention had deployed experts domestically and internationally to respond to Ebola.

Scientists like Munster are indispensable for figuring out the source of pandemic viruses, whether bats, pigs, rats, or some other animal, Andersen said. Munster “is the person who goes out to Africa to get samples of bad viruses from people,” said Stanley Perlman, a virologist at the University of Iowa and a longtime member of the FDA’s vaccine advisory panel. “He’s done lots of things that needed to be done, and he does them well.”

Authorities arrested Munster and Claude Kwe, a research fellow at Rocky Mountain Labs, June 2 on charges of conspiracy to smuggle mpox into the United States and lying to border agents. They had been stopped Jan. 25 at the Detroit airport after returning from the Republic of Congo.

The announcing the charges said FBI testing had confirmed the viruses were inactivated — Munster helped — but that the scientists jeopardized Americans’ safety.

“These NIH experts apparently broke our laws by smuggling viral pathogens on a packed commercial airplane from an outbreak in the Republic of Congo. Let that sink in,” said Jerome Gorgon, U.S. attorney for the Eastern District of Michigan.

The says Munster and Kwe falsely told customs agents the mpox specimens they brought back were for diagnostic use. Yet several scientists told ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News that the specimens most likely were indeed for use in developing mpox diagnostic tests.

The complaint also states that the scientists lacked the appropriate documents. requires researchers to register and certify inactivated viruses.

“He is presumed innocent and we will have to await future proceedings before commenting,” Kwe’s federal community defender, Benton Martin, said of his client.

In Montana, Marshall Bloom, an associate director at Rocky Mountain Labs, told the Ravalli County Board of Health in a July meeting that the scientists have been suspended and aren’t allowed on campus amid an internal NIH investigation. “These are not trivial accusations,” Bloom said.

It is not illegal or unheard of to take an inactivated virus on a plane. If the samples were inactive, “the risk is zero,” said Daniel Jernigan, who worked for 26 years at the CDC and led its National Center for Emerging and Zoonotic Infectious Diseases until retiring last August.

“But you have to have the documentation available,” he added.

Jernigan recalled reprimands issued for this sort of lapse but knew of no arrests.

“In this climate,” Perlman said, “you’d want to make sure you talk to people at your institution to make sure any i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed.”

Munster’s attorney didn’t respond to multiple interview requests.

Skeptical Neighbors

Conservative politicians and others skeptical of the nation’s covid response have had Munster and Rocky Mountain Labs on their radar for years.

The facility is in Hamilton, a town of 5,000 in rural Ravalli County, which gave President Donald Trump 69% of its vote in 2024. The lab got its start with studies of Rocky Mountain spotted fever in the 1900s, when ranchers and cattle were dying from the then-unknown disease.

Today it is a Biosafety Level 4 facility, one of only several dozen labs in the world to employ the highest level of safety controls that enable scientists to study the deadliest pathogens.

Munster and his laboratory of viral ecology are known as the “go-to group for highly dangerous viruses” such as Middle East respiratory syndrome, Nipah, Ebola, and bird flu, said zoologist Peter Daszak, whose work has also been targeted in recent years. Munster “goes into red zones,” gets samples from sick people, and makes diagnostic tests that help assess an outbreak and how to stop it, Daszak said.

Munster and his colleagues contributed to studies of , , and — work that put the lab in the crosshairs of people warning about the dangers of biomedical research.

In April, the White Coat Waste Project, a self-described government watchdog group to stop tax-funded animal testing, paid for billboards across seven cities with NIH-funded labs, including Hamilton.

The next month, about the investigation into Munster, citing an anonymous letter. That caught the attention of Laura Loomer, a far-right activist known as a loyalty enforcer for Trump who has the president’s ear. She posted about it to her 1.9 million followers on the social platform X.

“Fauci Holdovers at @NIH and @HHSGov are about to unleash Ebola in America,” Loomer posted on May 17, asking why Munster, who is Dutch, and Kwe, from Cameroon, weren’t imprisoned or deported.

Little more than a week later, Montana Republican U.S. Sen. Tim Sheehy sent a letter to HHS calling for an investigation, saying the alleged improper behavior by the scientists could threaten national security.

Munster and Kwe were charged days later. U.S. Rep. Paul Gosar, an Arizona Republican, in mid-July as a reason to close the Hamilton facility, part of his ongoing “Fauci-era programs.”

The arrests added to local apprehensions about the facility.

 “You can’t pick and choose which rules you follow when you’re dealing with this stuff,” County Commissioner Jeff Burrows said at a June meeting. “And I know he’s innocent until proven guilty, but for God’s sakes, this is a big deal.”

The Ongoing Push To Blame Fauci

About two weeks after the charges, departing Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard released declassified documents that she said proved Fauci had lied to Congress about NIH-funded research at the Wuhan Institute of Virology, the lab that, in her words, “sparked covid.” The documents, however, provide no new evidence that the lab launched the covid virus. Most, though not all, virus experts think the best evidence indicates the virus jumped from bats to other animals, and then to humans at a Wuhan market.

of the lab-leak theory have issued fresh calls to punish Fauci, 85, and scientists his institute funded. Fauci declined to comment for this article.

Shortly after Gabbard’s report, Paul, who chairs the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee, subpoenaed Fauci to testify before the committee.

Fauci “was Dr. Frankenstein of the modern era” and “has the blood of millions of people on his hands,” Peter Navarro, a senior adviser to Trump, on June 25. “You idiot! … You need to come clean, Fauci.”

The administration’s mistrust of the federal bureaucracy and the scientific work it has funded has led to broad cuts and staffing losses, including in .

A May 2025 suspended research on many risky viruses, and HHS later halted an $82 million, that funded research into emerging viruses by 10 labs across the world. In late May this year, the White House that would give political appointees sweeping power over all federally funded science.

Prominent covid experts and scientists close to Fauci have been called before congressional committees, barred from receiving government grants, or arrested.

In April, heavily armed FBI agents of David Morens, Fauci’s 78-year-old former aide. They forced him to strip to his underwear and drove him in handcuffs 40 miles to a federal courthouse, where he was briefly jailed, according to Science magazine. Morens’ case is pending.

In May, HHS told Ralph Baric, a University of North Carolina coronavirus expert, that it was halting his federal funding because of a “pattern of deception” in his communications with the NIH. .

In some ways, the arrests of Munster and Kwe felt unsurprising, said Philip Stewart, a recently retired Rocky Mountain Labs researcher focused on tick-borne diseases.

“There is an anti-science movement,” Stewart said. “We are targets, and if it hadn’t been Vincent, it would have been someone else.”

Most Americans believe in the lab-leak theory, according to surveys, and several U.S. intelligence agencies lean in that direction. That makes targeting scientists who do that kind of work politically expedient, said Daszak, whose NIH-funded nonprofit worked with Chinese virologists in Wuhan and has been under scrutiny since April 2020, when Trump his funding ended.

Animal viruses jump to humans in the wild a year, usually producing negligible infections, occasionally sparking an outbreak. The Ebola virus causing the current African epidemic may have originated in bats, which seem to carry it without getting sick.

Doctors on the ground in the Democratic Republic of Congo lacked diagnostic tests . Munster, who has extensively researched Ebola, was locked out of his lab soon after the January detention.

“While we sit around removing pandemic preparedness grants, arresting scientists, locking them up in some cases,” Daszak said, “viruses are out there evolving.”

This article first appeared on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News and is republished here under a .

But officials warned that all optional Medicaid services are still under review as the state health department looks for cuts to offset a shortfall driven by higher-than-expected Medicaid costs.

Jon Ebelt, a spokesperson with the Montana Department of Public Health and Human Services, said the agency is preparing a request to the federal government to add doula care to the state’s Medicaid program. It would cost the state about $118,000 in its first year to provide doula Medicaid reimbursements, according to .

His April 15 comments came three weeks after department officials told ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News that the state budget deficit had put those plans on hold. Ebelt denied that a final decision had been made in March to scrap the doula Medicaid payments, which state lawmakers approved in a bill last year. The coverage is “now proceeding as planned,” he said.

“At the time of your initial inquiry, we were still in the process of analyzing the appropriation,” Ebelt said.

Federal health officials must approve any amendments to the state’s Medicaid program before payments can begin. reimburse doulas through Medicaid.

Doulas are trained, nonmedical workers who support people through pregnancy and after they give birth. The care they provide is in health complications, which has prompted more states to cover doula services in recent years.

Montana lawmakers who supported expanding Medicaid to cover doula care in 2025 cited scarce maternity services, especially in rural and Indigenous communities. But this year, the state has a Medicaid budget deficit of more than and is expecting a similar shortfall next year. Plus, federal policy changes slated to take effect later this year are expected to increase costs.

“ There’s a need and a desire for doula services, but a lot of people can’t afford it,” said Sheri Walker, a Helena-based doula and president of the . “So that means many of us have other jobs that we have to juggle.”

Walker is a part-time labor and delivery nurse outside of her doula work.

On March 25, health department spokesperson Holly Matkin said in an email to ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News that the agency “will not be moving forward with the implementation of doula services in the Montana Medicaid benefit package at this time.” She had added that it was unclear whether state law gives the department the authority to authorize coverage during the budget shortfall.

State Sen. , a Democrat who sponsored last year’s bipartisan doula reimbursement bill, said she didn’t know about the department’s plans until she saw ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News’ reporting. Neumann said she and groups that had backed the legislation began calling health officials, making the case for doula services as a low-cost way to provide critical care.

After about a week, Neumann said, state officials told her the agency was moving ahead with doula services after all.

“They were on the chopping block,” Neumann said. “This is a story of how important it is for all Montanans to pay attention and stay connected to what’s happening.”

Ebelt did not clarify what led the department to change its position. However, he warned that optional Medicaid services, such as doula services, may still be cut.

“All optional services, including this service, are being reviewed,” Ebelt said, referring to doula care. He did not respond to a follow-up query as to whether the department might still decide to postpone the program following federal approval.

are types of care that states choose to cover through their Medicaid programs but aren’t required by federal law. That can include covering eyeglasses, prescription drugs, and prosthetics, and more specialized care such as physical therapy, or inpatient psychiatric services for people under 21.

Those services may not sound optional, said , who studies Medicaid financing at KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News. But she said they’re one of the few avenues states have to make adjustments when budgets get tight.

Congressional Republicans’ One Big Beautiful Bill Act, the spending measure President Donald Trump signed into law last July, is expected to put more states in a budget crunch as its provisions start to take effect by the end of the year. The federal government has estimated that the law will reduce federal Medicaid spending by nearly $1 trillion over 10 years. The law also left states with a higher share of the costs to provide food assistance.

Williams said many states expanded services in recent years by boosting optional Medicaid benefits and provider pay.

“We could see them walk those back,” Williams said.

Montana’s financial problems preceded federal changes. Last year, state lawmakers cut some of the health department’s funding and underestimated Medicaid use. The state also overestimated what the federal government would pay toward Montana’s Medicaid costs.

Health officials must outline a plan to cut costs before the state’s 2027 budget year begins on July 1. Simultaneously, the agency is trying to hire more staffers to begin vetting whether Medicaid enrollees meet or are exempt from new work requirements that also go in place July 1. The new rules, mandated through long-delayed state legislation and the federal spending law, will have a three-month grace period.

Stephanie Morton, executive director of , said she’s grateful the state is back on track to pay for doula services through Medicaid. But she said she’s worried about potential health care cuts to come.

“We know that doulas are a critical piece of that infrastructure, but standing alone and losing other sources of care really isn’t optimal,” Morton said. “These are not robust systems as it stands.”

This article first appeared on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News and is republished here under a .

A mom of seven, Pipe is a doula on the reservation who supports new and expectant parents. She does that work free, around her day job. That’s because in this town of about 2,000 people, the closest hospital that delivers babies is 100 miles away.

“Women need this help,” Pipe said.

Doulas ready parents for childbirth, support their deliveries, and can be a steady presence in a baby’s first months. their work with lower rates of costly birth and postpartum complications — especially in hard-to-reach places like Lame Deer.

But that help can be scarce. As Pipe put it: “Doula doesn’t pay the bills around here.”

Things were supposed to change this year. Montana was set to join that reimburse doulas through their Medicaid programs to ease gaps in care. Montana lawmakers approved the payments last year, authorizing up to $1,600 per pregnancy. Pipe hoped that money would give her the chance to leave her post office job one day to help more parents.

But the state Department of Public Health and Human Services postponed adding doula services to its Medicaid program in late March, citing a budget shortfall driven in part by higher-than-expected Medicaid costs.

“DPHHS will not be moving forward with the implementation of doula services in the Montana Medicaid benefit package at this time,” department spokesperson Holly Matkin told ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News.

The news caught Pipe by surprise — she hadn’t heard any updates in a while, but the state had finalized its licensing rules for doulas in January. Last year, she supported three people through their deliveries. She doesn’t have time for much more. That weighs on her. the people on the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation , and the people she helps usually can’t afford to pay a doula.

“I was looking forward to serving more people,” Pipe said. “Now that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

Charlie Brereton, who heads the health department, told state lawmakers in March that the agency projected a $146.3 million shortfall in federal Medicaid funds for this year. Health officials predict another deficit next year as states feel the effects of Republicans’ massive tax-and-spending law, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. Signed last year, that law is projected to reduce federal Medicaid spending by nearly $1 trillion over 10 years.

Matkin said it’s “unclear” whether the agency can authorize doula coverage this year. The deficit will lead the department to seek supplemental funding from state lawmakers. When an agency makes that kind of request for the first year of the state’s two-year budget cycle, requires it to create a plan to reduce its spending.

Around the country, optional Medicaid services — such as doula support, home health care, and dental work — are at risk of losing funding as states brace for federal Medicaid cuts to hit their bottom lines. Already, lawmakers in Idaho are considering their own reductions to Medicaid to balance the state’s budget. cutting tens of millions of dollars in services for people with disabilities.

In Montana, doula services are unlikely to be the only Medicaid cutbacks announced. “All options are on the table,” Brereton told lawmakers in March.

Stephanie Morton, executive director of Healthy Mothers, Healthy Babies-The Montana Coalition, said more than half of Montana’s counties are designated as maternity care deserts.

“Budget cuts will continue to diminish the limited services families rely upon in these counties,” said Morton, whose nonprofit had advocated for doula Medicaid reimbursement. “This decision feels like the first of many rollbacks and cuts Montanans will face.”

Laboring Alone

At the check-in just outside town, Pipe handed a waking newborn to his mother and unwrapped a new swaddle for the child. This would have to be a quick visit — she was already late for work.

The mother, Britney WolfVoice, held her newborn son as her three young daughters stood close by. Pipe has been with WolfVoice and her husband for the birth of their newborn son and youngest daughter.

She helped them create delivery plans. For the birth of WolfVoice’s youngest daughter a few years ago, Pipe brought cedar oil, a sacred plant used for prayer, and calmed WolfVoice through her contractions. For the recent birth of her son, when hospital backlogs delayed WolfVoice’s induction, Pipe encouraged her to advocate for an earlier appointment by routinely calling the hospital. Doctors had recommended the procedure to avoid complications.

“Misty is one person who I can count on to be my voice,” WolfVoice said.

If someone needs a ride to a doctor’s appointment, Pipe takes time off work to drive them. If a client goes into labor when Pipe’s at the post office, she texts two other free doulas she knows of on the reservation to see if they have time to help until her shift ends. But they also have day jobs.

Pipe herself has ridden that 100-mile stretch between home and the hospital in labor and in the back of an ambulance. Twice, she gave birth in emergency rooms along the way. In one of her pregnancies, she miscarried at home and couldn’t get a doctor appointment for days.

The long distance to receive care often meant her husband had to stay behind to tend to their other children at home.

“I labored alone so many times,” Pipe said. “I just want to make sure no one’s alone.”

Rural maternity care deserts are a , especially as labor and delivery units continue to shutter. In many tribal communities, a lack of care coincides with long-standing inequities caused by centuries of .

Predominantly Indigenous communities face the longest distances to obstetric facilities compared with all other racial and ethnic groups, according to a 2024 report from the March of Dimes. That’s part of the reason Indigenous women are far more likely to get sick from pregnancy and as white women.

Indigenous patients are supposed to be guaranteed access to health care through the federal Indian Health Service. But the chronically underfunded agency has severe gaps. A small fraction of its hospitals and clinics offer labor and delivery. As of 2024, only seven states had either an IHS or tribal birth facility, . To help fill in those shortfalls, Medicaid is the for many Native Americans, according to KFF.

Even where care exists, Native women can experience a distrust of health systems, according to Pipe and other health workers. The U.S. government has a long history of removing children from tribal homes and forcing Native American women to undergo sterilization.

of the Pacific Institute for Research and Evaluation’s Southwest center has studied premature deaths among Native Americans. A member of the Fort Sill-Chiricahua-Warm Springs-Apache Tribe, Haozous said data on maternal health disparities in pregnancy and postpartum often misses a key point.

“It’s not that women are just not taking care of themselves,” Haozous said. “The system is set up for them to not have access to care.”

On top of funding cuts, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act will add more frequent eligibility checks and work requirements to access Medicaid. Those changes, when they take effect later this year and next, will lead an estimated 5.3 million people to lose their coverage by 2034.

Native Americans are exempt from some of the law’s new rules, such as the work requirements. Even so, tribal patients can get tangled in administrative hurdles. That includes struggling to enroll in the first place or to prove their tribal status. A full-time college student, WolfVoice said that when she got pregnant, it took about six months to enroll in the state’s Medicaid program.

Despite Montana’s long struggle with a backlogged Medicaid system, state officials aim to implement work requirements this summer, well before the federal deadline.

‘Moccasins on the Ground’

As Pipe pulled into her driveway one day after a full shift at the post office, her kids ran to her. She was also greeted by Felicia Blindman, a 63-year-old public health nurse who used to work for the tribe. The two sat in lawn chairs into the night and brainstormed ways to connect more women to services — such as free prenatal classes.

Pipe’s four youngest children played around them. Her 14-year-old daughter is already certified as an Indigenous doula. Her 8-year-old daughter has begun helping Pipe pick up prescriptions for moms without a car who live out of town. Pipe hopes one day they could do that work full-time, if they want to.

Because of the lost Medicaid payment, Pipe said, she will continue to balance her job with her birth work, even if it means persuading more people to become doulas, such as family and respected community members, to cover more ground.

“It’s not going to stop me from training more birth workers, more young people, more aunties,” Pipe said. “For now, I guess it’s more about grassroots, moccasins on the ground, helping each other.”

She said that means telling pregnant people who walk into the post office she’s there to help if they need support. At least, as long as she’s not at her day job.

This article first appeared on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News and is republished here under a .

Sylvia Chou, 51, Maryland

Program director, National Cancer Institute

Sylvia Chou specializes in communication between patients and their health care providers, and social media’s role in public health. She joined the federal government in 2007 as a fellow and became a civil servant in 2010.

She left her National Cancer Institute job in January, she said, because the “work is no longer based on facts or truth.”

After President Donald Trump returned to office, Chou said, health communication scientists like her were falsely accused of “essentially doing propaganda work.” The administration’s “anti-DEI hysteria,” she said, referring to diversity, equity, and inclusion, meant research funded by the National Institutes of Health was flagged and scrubbed of references to “equity, vulnerable, underserved, poor, even communities of color, minorities.”

She said the agency’s climate in 2025 brought to mind her childhood in Taiwan, when the island was still ruled by an authoritarian regime.

“I could see the difference between a time when, you know, we have a choral competition and we have to sing the same songs to revere the leader of the country, to suddenly they say you can sing any song you want,” Chou said. “I came to this country in part because there was so much opportunity to think freely.”

“To see us going backwards,” she added, “it just made me feel like I have limited time on this earth and I cannot participate anymore inside the system.”

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‘One Hurdle After Another’

Philip Stewart, 60, Montana

Staff scientist, National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases

Philip Stewart’s work was about understanding the pathogens ticks carry that make people and animals sick.

That often started with walks through tall grass searching for the arachnids. He analyzed them back at Rocky Mountain Laboratories.

When Trump entered office in 2025, Stewart experienced repeated disruptions to his work.

“It’s been one hurdle after another. Just when you’ve gotten over one and you think it’s finally behind you, another hurdle pops up,” Stewart said. “I don’t see that changing.”

NIH workers responsible for buying laboratory supplies were fired. As a result, Stewart said, he faced delays in getting the basics, including materials used to identify tick species.

Travel bans in early 2025 threatened his fieldwork. When those bans lifted, Stewart said, for the first time in his career he needed a presidential appointee’s approval to travel. Amid last year’s government shutdown, Stewart missed his only opportunity in the year to collect ticks from deer at hunting stations — his best chance to see if deer ticks had become established in Montana.

The review process for scientists to share their research became more burdensome.

He said scientists have debated whether they should try to stay and work within the system, adding that, if everyone leaves, “no cures get found.”

“If I saw a way to stay on and be useful and perhaps to protest, then I think I would’ve stayed,” Stewart said. “But I don’t see any of those alternatives.”

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‘Losing a Lot of Expertise’

Alexa Romberg, 48, Maryland

Deputy branch chief, National Institute on Drug Abuse

Alexa Romberg is a scientist who specializes in preventing the use of and addiction to tobacco, electronic cigarettes, and cannabis. The harms that stem from substance use or addiction don’t affect all Americans equally, she said.

Romberg left her “dream job” at the National Institute on Drug Abuse in December, she said, because Trump policies had compromised the research she helped oversee. Among other things, Romberg said, grants were terminated under an initiative she led to reduce health disparities among racial and ethnic minorities related to substance use. Pending applications were also pulled, she said, adding, “I couldn’t be effective from the inside in actively really preserving the science.”

Romberg said her work was undone even though it was consistent with “what the NIH leadership is saying that they want.” In August, NIH Director Jay Bhattacharya on priorities that included “solution-oriented approaches in health disparities research.”

Before the upheaval throughout 2025, she thought she would work at NIDA for the rest of her career.

“We’re losing a lot of expertise,” Romberg said. “Both scientific,” she added, and “institutional knowledge.”

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Research ‘for the Benefit of Our Society’

Marc Ernstoff, 73, Maryland and Vermont

Branch chief, National Cancer Institute

Marc Ernstoff spent most of his career in academia before joining the National Cancer Institute in 2020. He led a team of scientists who oversaw grants for research into how the immune system responds to cancer, with the goal of developing drugs that extend patients’ lives.

“I felt that it was important for me to help define a national agenda in immuno-oncology and to give back to a country that I love by working as a civil servant,” Ernstoff said.

Under Trump, the NIH became a “hostile work environment.” Projects with “no weaknesses” were denied funding. Ernstoff left because of those challenges and because he was denied permission to work remotely. He now has a part-time position at Dartmouth Health in New Hampshire.

Leveraging a person’s immune system to fight off cancer is “just the beginning of the story,” Ernstoff said. Understanding how the immune system works — and the environmental and other factors that affect it — all “goes into developing better therapeutics for patients.”

“In my opinion, the government has a responsibility to support this kind of research for the benefit of our society,” he said.

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Eyeing Less Stress, Better Pay

Daniel Dulebohn, 45, Montana

Staff scientist, National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases

At Rocky Mountain Laboratories, Daniel Dulebohn studied how molecules come together in infections and diseases. He helped agency researchers across the nation get insight needed for new discoveries and treatments.

Dulebohn said he worked for the government because he knew his research wouldn’t be steered by the pressure to make money. He had planned to stay indefinitely.

“You’re trying to cure a disease or understand something fundamental about biology,” Dulebohn said.

But then his work began to feel insecure, especially as as inept, corrupt, and partisan.

“Reading the news and hearing people discuss the validity of vaccines,” he said, made him think, “Do we need iron lungs again, or people in wheelchairs, to say, ‘Huh, maybe vaccines are a good idea’? I mean, I don’t know; for me, it was just too much.”

He added federal researchers typically have other options for jobs with bigger paychecks.

Dulebohn left his job in September. He’s taking a year off to think about next options with his wife and their three young kids. Dulebohn said he’s considering going into real estate full-time, which until recently was a weekend hobby.

“It’s a lot less stress,” he said. “Pay is better.”

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‘Susceptible to Political Decision-Making’

Jennifer Troyer, 57, Maryland

Division director, National Human Genome Research Institute

Jennifer Troyer’s work for the NIH most recently involved reviewing research and overseeing funding awarded to institutions for genomics research. Genomics studies all of a person’s genes to better understand health and disease risk.

She called it quits at the end of December, more than two decades after she arrived. She left for one reason, she said: “The way that the NIH is making the agreement to fund science is now susceptible to political decision-making in a way that it was not before.”

“NIH is looking at not the value of the science but whether the science falls within particular political or socially-acceptable-to-this-administration constructs,” she said. “Not whether it’s valuable for human health but whether it might offend somebody.”

For example, she saw HHS move to to Harvard after alleging that it had shown “deliberate indifference” to antisemitism on campus. Early-career investigators from minority backgrounds lost their research dollars because the money was awarded under programs to make the science workforce more diverse.

The loss of staff means the NIH has “lost so much of that institutional knowledge and leadership, which is not something that is easy or can be learned overnight,” she said.

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Philip Stewart, a Rocky Mountain Laboratories researcher focused on tick-borne diseases, said he retired two years earlier than planned because of hurdles that made it too challenging to do his job well.

Alexa Romberg, an addiction prevention scientist focused on tobacco, said she “lost a great deal” of the research she oversaw when federal grants vanished.

“If one is thinking about the ‘Make America Healthy Again’ agenda and the prevention of chronic disease,” Romberg said, “tobacco use is the No. 1 contributor to early morbidity and mortality that we can prevent.”

The National Institutes of Health is the largest public funder of biomedical research in the world, with a to “enhance health, lengthen life, and reduce illness.”

Over decades, the value of the NIH may be the one thing everyone in Washington has agreed on. Lawmakers have routinely boosted its funding.

“I’m so pleased to be associated with NIH,” former Sen. Roy Blunt, a Missouri Republican and one of the NIH’s biggest champions in Congress, shortly before he retired.

But in President Donald Trump’s second term, the NIH has seen an exodus of scientists like Ernstoff, Stewart, and Romberg. Federal data shows the NIH lost about 4,400 people — more than 20% of its workforce. Scientists say the departures harm the U.S.’ ability to respond to disease outbreaks, develop treatments for chronic illnesses, and confront the nation’s most pressing public health problems.

“People are going to get hurt,” said Sylvia Chou, a scientist who worked at the National Cancer Institute in Rockville, Maryland, for over 15 years before she left in January. “There’s going to be a lot more health challenges and even deaths, because we need science in order to help people get healthy.”

Why They’re Leaving

ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News interviewed a half dozen scientists who said they quit their jobs years before they’d planned to because of the tumult of 2025.

Only a few years ago, the NIH workforce was steadily growing, from roughly 17,700 employees in fiscal year 2019 to around 21,100 in fiscal 2024, federal data shows. Under Trump, those gains have been slashed.

The Trump administration enacted a campaign to purge government workers perceived as disloyal to the president. People were fired or encouraged to leave. Officials instituted a months-long freeze on hiring.

The NIH workforce has plummeted to about 17,100 people — its lowest level in at least two decades. Most who left weren’t fired. Roughly 4 in 5 either retired, quit, had appointments that expired, or transferred to a different job, according to federal data.

Scientists watched with dread as their colleagues were forced to terminate research funds for topics the Trump administration deemed off-limits. Across NIH labs, routine work stalled. They said they faced major delays in accessing equipment and supplies. Travel authorizations were slowed or denied.

Agency staff were instructed not to communicate with anyone outside the agency. When they could talk again, they were subject to greater constraints on what they could present to the public.

And under the administration’s agenda to eliminate “diversity, equity, and inclusion,” references to minorities or health equity were purged from NIH-funded research. Initiatives to protect Americans’ health were gutted. Among them: support for early-career scientists, ways to prevent harm from HIV or substance use, and efforts to study how different populations’ immune systems respond to disease.

, Chou and Romberg were among a group of NIH scientists who said they resigned in protest of an administration “that treats science not as a process for building knowledge, but as a means to advance its political agenda.”

A ‘Fundamental Destruction’

Health and Human Services spokesperson Emily Hilliard said in a statement that the agency had shifted to focus on evidence-based research over “ideological agendas.” She said the NIH is still recruiting “the best and brightest” and advancing high-quality science to “deliver breakthroughs for the American people.” The federal health department oversees NIH.

“A major reset was overdue. HHS has taken action to streamline operations, reduce redundancies, and return to pre-pandemic employment levels,” Hilliard said.

Many scientists, however, question whether the NIH can still fulfill its public mission.

“There’s been a fundamental destruction,” said Daniel Dulebohn, a researcher who spent nearly two decades at Rocky Mountain Laboratories in Hamilton, Montana. It’s going to “take a very, very long time to rebuild.”

Dulebohn left the NIH’s infectious disease and allergy institute in September.

He analyzed how molecules and proteins interact in diseases, such as Lyme disease, HIV, and Alzheimer’s — information that’s key for new treatments. Dulebohn was a resource for scientists when they hit walls trying to understand, for example, if molecules could prevent infection or react to a treatment.

Now he and his wife are living off savings in Mexico with their three young kids. Dulebohn’s thinking about what’s next. One option: real estate.

The expert in biochemical analysis operated equipment few others know how to use. His exit further depletes resources in the specialty.

“It’s clear when someone comes out with a drug and now you’ve just cured a disease. But you never know which ones could have been cured,” Dulebohn said. “We don’t know what we’ve lost.”

Laura Stark, a Vanderbilt University associate professor who specializes in the history of medicine and science, said wiping out NIH staff will propel a shift toward private-industry research, with its profit motives, “as opposed to actually helping American health.”

“We just don’t have people who are now able to pursue research for the public good,” Stark said.

From Support to Scrutiny

Stark said the seeds of the present-day NIH were planted during World War II when the U.S. government spearheaded an effort to mass-produce the antibiotic penicillin to save soldiers from infections.

The agency has played a central role in lifesaving discoveries and treatments — including for heart disease, cancer, diabetes, and genetic diseases such as cystic fibrosis.

With bipartisan backing from Congress, the NIH budget has grown significantly over time, sitting at $48.7 billion for fiscal 2026. The NIH allocates roughly 11% of its budget for agency scientists. About 80% is awarded to universities and other institutions.

The money may be there, but the people who get it out the door are not, scientists said.

Jennifer Troyer left the National Human Genome Research Institute in Bethesda, Maryland, on Dec. 31, after working in various positions at the NIH for about 25 years. The division she led reviews research and oversees grants to organizations studying the human genome — or a person’s complete set of genes — and how it can be used to benefit health.

Last year, she said, her division lost about two-thirds of its staff. “There really are not enough people there right now to actually get the work done,” Troyer said. “It’s extreme harm.”

She decided to quit the day Trump issued an in August that prohibited the use of grants to “fund, promote, encourage, subsidize, or facilitate” what it described as “anti-American values.” It also allowed political appointees to review all funding decisions.

“I wasn’t going to operate a division under those orders,” Troyer said. She hasn’t figured out her next career steps.

‘Enough Is Enough’

Research aligned with the administration’s stated priorities has suffered.

HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has called the diagnosis and treatment of Lyme disease — a tick-borne infection that can cause debilitating lifelong symptoms — . In December, Kennedy said the government had long dismissed patients burdened with a disease that in the U.S. are diagnosed with annually.

That same month, Stewart, who had dedicated his career to ticks and Lyme disease as a federal scientist, retired early. He’d worked for the government for 27 years. Stewart said workforce cuts and travel delays stalled his efforts to confirm how far Lyme-carrying ticks had spread — information that could help doctors recognize symptoms sooner.

Stewart was a lead scientist on research published last year , or deer tick, in Montana. It was the first time the tick best known for transmitting Lyme disease had been confirmed in the state. He wanted to determine if the discovery was a fluke or an indicator that the species was gaining ground.

“The advice we’ve been getting is, ‘Put your head down below the trench line. Don’t look. Don’t peek over and risk getting shot,’” Stewart said. “At what point do you finally say, ‘Enough is enough’ and ‘We’re not being effective anymore’?”

Scientists said those early in their careers are looking abroad for jobs and training. People who want to stay in the U.S. are running into problems getting hired because of cuts to research grants and uncertainty about funding.

Collectively, people studying diseases warn the U.S. could lose its long-held position as the global leader in biomedical research, with devastating impact.

Stanley Perlman, a University of Iowa virologist who studies pediatric infectious diseases, said that title earned the nation more than prestige; it drew top scientists from the world over to the U.S. to study diseases that particularly affect people here.

There’s no guarantee halted research will be picked up elsewhere, whether by private industry or other countries. If others are doing that work, Americans could face delays in seeing benefits, he said.

“If you don’t have access to how the work was done,” Perlman said, “it’s harder to reproduce and adapt it for your country.”

ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News data editor Holly K. Hacker contributed to this report.

This article first appeared on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News and is republished here under a .

After his mom finally saw a specialist in Glasgow, about an hour away, she was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer, Bighorn said.

Now, 16 years after his mother’s death, Bighorn has access to regular screenings for cancer and other specialty care that she didn’t have, through a health insurance program the Fort Peck Tribes created in 2016. The program, which covers most of the costs for the roughly 1,000 tribal citizens enrolled, is among a growing number of tribally sponsored health insurance programs.

Such programs vary by tribe, but they essentially screen and enroll people living within tribal boundaries in Affordable Care Act marketplace plans. They allow participating Native Americans flexibility to go to outside doctors and clinics when care through the Indian Health Service is unavailable.

“I’d be in a bind otherwise,” said Bighorn, a 65-year-old tribal game warden and member of the Dakota community.

But the Fort Peck Tribes now limit who has access to that coverage. Other tribal organizations that offer Native Americans similar coverage are struggling with rising costs, too.

The financial crunch began when congressional lawmakers allowed enhanced subsidies under the Affordable Care Act to expire on Dec. 31. Those tax credits, created under the Biden administration during the covid-19 pandemic, expanded subsidized health coverage for millions of people. By late 2025, ACA plans saw about 24 million enrollees, more than twice the number of pre-pandemic annual sign-ups. The cost of coverage shot up for most of those people as the expanded subsidies expired, and enrollment has dropped by , according to federal health officials.

The subsidies had also boosted tribal health insurance programs, like the one Bighorn is enrolled in. The programs pay the price of each person’s share of premiums after subsidies, and the coverage lowers patients’ treatment costs. Now that premium prices have ballooned, so have tribes’ costs.

Rae Jean Belgarde, who directs Fort Peck Tribes’ program, said the higher costs leave the tribes with one option at this point: “Start limiting who gets help.”

The tribes are helping people shift to other insurance options and, in some cases, find state programs to cover their premiums. Tribal leaders also sent a letter to Montana’s all-Republican congressional delegation asking them to support extending the subsidies.

“Our program is saving lives,” the letter read. Belgarde said she didn’t know whether the lawmakers responded.

Scrambling for Solutions

U.S. a temporary extension of the enhanced subsidies in January. But that measure . Lawmakers are scrambling for an alternative after President Donald Trump an extension if a bill reaches his desk. On Jan. 15, the president released that includes creating savings accounts for people to pay their health costs — an idea Senate Republicans as an alternative to the subsidies.

A.C. Locklear, CEO of the , a nonprofit that works to improve health in Native communities, said tribes are “looking at ways to cut back just as much as everyone else.”

Native Americans as a group continue to face disproportionately high rates of chronic diseases. Their median age at death is 14 years younger than that of white Americans.

“Reducing access to even just general primary care has a significant impact on those disparities,” Locklear said.

Tribal leaders have said letting the subsidies expire further undermines the federal government’s duty to ensure adequate care for Native Americans.

In exchange for taking tribal land through colonization, the U.S. government made long-standing promises to provide for the health and well-being of tribes. Native Americans are guaranteed free health care at clinics and hospitals operated or funded by the Indian Health Service. But that agency’s chronic underfunding has created massive blackouts in care. It sometimes pays for patients’ outside care through its Purchased/Referred Care program, but that’s limited too. Due to funding shortfalls, the agency prioritizes which treatments it will pay for.

To help fill the coverage gaps, some tribal nations have built their own health insurance programs. When tribes pay health premiums, clinics and hospitals in their areas can bill for services that might otherwise go unpaid. Some tribes have leveraged that money to expand services.

“I don’t see tribes getting rid of these programs,” Locklear said. “But it will drastically shift how much tribes can really put back in their community.”

For example, Tuba City Regional Health Care Corp., in northern Arizona within the Navajo Nation, is unique in providing comprehensive cancer treatment on a reservation, Locklear said. The corporation, he said, estimates its costs to cover patients this year are increasing by roughly 170% to nearly $38,000 per month without the enhanced subsidies.

One of the newer programs is on the Blackfeet reservation in northwestern Montana, where basic health services can be hard to find. Medical visits are often offered on a first-come, first-served basis, and services vanish when staff positions go unfilled, said Lyle Rutherford, a Blackfeet Nation council member.

“Some of it is just getting a regular eye appointment, or a primary care appointment,” Rutherford said.

The tribe has been slowly building its health insurance program since launching it in 2024. Rutherford said the enhanced subsidies made that possible. Fewer than 400 people are enrolled out of an estimated 3,000 who qualify. In January, the tribe paused the employer-sponsored coverage portion of its insurance program, which at the time included 52 people.

He said tribal leaders are seeking extra funding to keep the program afloat, and he hopes Congress finds a solution.

Lives on the Line

The impact goes beyond tribes’ insurance programs. The Urban Institute, a Washington, D.C.-based economic and social policy research nonprofit, will become uninsured in 2026 due to the higher costs.

Patients at the Oyate Health Center in Rapid City, South Dakota, are already reporting sky-high premium increases for ACA plans. CEO Jerilyn Church said it’s too soon to know how many will forgo coverage. But she said more uninsured patients would further strain the IHS Purchased/Referred Care program — with officials raising the bar for how sick patients must be to cover care outside of tribal health sites.

“There will be people that will not be able to get the care they need,” Church said, adding that could translate to “people losing their lives.”

Bighorn, the game warden on the Fort Peck Reservation, is among those still covered by the tribes’ insurance program. He has put it to use.

Soon after enrolling, Bighorn needed two hip replacements, surgeries that require off-reservation care and are ranked as low-priority procedures by the Indian Health Service. Bighorn said that in pre-surgery tests, specialists found the cause for his long-standing, dangerously high blood pressure. The diagnosis: untreated lifelong asthma and sleep apnea.

“I was a miserable man, tired all the time,” he said.

Without the tribe’s coverage, Bighorn may have eventually gotten those diagnoses but said it would have likely taken years to get help through the Indian Health Service. That would have meant getting much sicker before receiving care.

ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News correspondent Arielle Zionts contributed to this report.

Are you struggling to afford your health insurance? Have you decided to forgo coverage? Click here to contact ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News and share your story.

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LODGE GRASS, Mont. — Brothers Lonny and Teyon Fritzler walked amid the tall grass and cottonwood trees surrounding their boarded-up childhood home near the Little Bighorn River and daydreamed about ways to rebuild.

The rolling prairie outside the single-story clapboard home is where Lonny learned from their grandfather how to break horses. It’s where Teyon learned from their grandmother how to harvest buffalo berries. It’s also where they watched their father get addicted to meth.

Teyon, now 34, began using the drug at 15 with their dad. Lonny, 41, started after college, which he said was partly due to the stress of caring for their grandfather with dementia. Their own addictions to meth persisted for years, outlasting the lives of both their father and grandfather.

It took leaving their home in Lodge Grass, a town of about 500 people on the Crow Indian Reservation, to recover. Here, methamphetamine use is widespread.

The brothers stayed with an aunt in Oklahoma as they learned to live without meth. Their family property has sat empty for years — the horse corral’s beams are broken and its roof caved in, the garage tilts, and the house needs extensive repairs. Such crumbling structures are common in this Native American community, hammered by the effects of meth addiction. Lonny said some homes in disrepair would cost too much to fix. It’s typical for multiple generations to crowd under one roof, sometimes for cultural reasons but also due to the area’s housing shortage.

“We have broken-down houses, a burnt one over here, a lot of houses that are not livable,” Lonny said as he described the few neighboring homes.

In Lodge Grass, an estimated 60% of the residents age 14 and older struggle with drug or alcohol addictions, according to a local survey contracted by the Mountain Shadow Association, a local, Native-led nonprofit. For many in the community, the buildings in disrepair are symbols of that struggle. But signs of renewal are emerging. In recent years, the town has torn down more than two dozen abandoned buildings. Now, for the first time in decades, new businesses are going up and have become new symbols — those of the town’s effort to recover from the effects of meth.

One of those new buildings, a day care center, arrived in October 2024. A parade of people followed the small, wooden building through town as it was delivered on the back of a truck. It replaced a formerly abandoned home that had tested positive for traces of meth.

“People were crying,” said Megkian Doyle, who heads the Mountain Shadow Association, which opened the center. “It was the first time that you could see new and tangible things that pulled into town.”

The nonprofit is also behind the town’s latest construction project: a place where families together can heal from addiction. The plan is to build an entire campus in town that provides mental health resources, housing for kids whose parents need treatment elsewhere, and housing for families working to live without drugs and alcohol.

Though the project is years away from completion, locals often stop by to watch the progress.

“There is a ground-level swell of hope that’s starting to come up around your ankles,” Doyle said.

Two of the builders on that project are Lonny and Teyon Fritzler. They see the work as a chance to help rebuild their community within the Apsáalooke Nation, also known as the Crow Tribe.

“When I got into construction work, I actually thought God was punishing me,” Lonny said. “But now, coming back, building these walls, I’m like, ‘Wow. This is ours now.’”

Meth ‘Never Left’

Meth use is a throughout the U.S. and a growing contributor to the nation’s . The drug had been devastating in Indian Country, that encompasses tribal jurisdictions and certain areas with Native American populations.

Native Americans face the in the U.S. compared with any other demographic group.

“Meth has never left our communities,” said A.C. Locklear, CEO of the , a nonprofit that works to improve health in Indian Country.

Many reservations are in rural areas, which have of meth use compared with cities. As a group, Native Americans face high rates of poverty, chronic disease, and mental illness — all are . These conditions are rooted in , a byproduct of colonization. Meanwhile, the Indian Health Service, which provides health care to Native Americans, has been chronically underfunded. Cutbacks under the Trump administration have shrunk health programs nationwide.

LeeAnn Bruised Head, a recently retired public health adviser with the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, said that despite the challenges, tribal nations have developed strong survival skills drawing from their traditions. For example, Crow people have held onto their nation’s language; neighbors are often family, or considered such; and many tribal members rely on their clans to mentor children, who eventually become mentors themselves for the next generation.

“The strength here, the support here,” said Bruised Head, who is part of the Crow Tribe. “You can’t get that anywhere else.”

Signs of Rebuilding

On a fall day, Quincy Dabney greeted people arriving for lunch at the Lodge Grass drop-in center. The center recently opened in a former church as a place where people can come for help to stay sober or for a free meal. Dabney volunteers at the center. He’s also the town’s mayor.

Dabney helped organize community cleanup days starting in 2017, during which people picked up trash in yards and alongside roads. The focus eventually shifted to tearing down empty, condemned houses, which Dabney said had become spots to sell, distribute, and use meth, often during the day as children played nearby.

“There was nothing stopping it here,” Dabney said.

The problem hasn’t disappeared, though. In 2024, officials broke up a multistate based on the Crow reservation that distributed drugs to other Montana reservations. It was one example of how drug traffickers as sales and distribution hubs.

A few blocks from where Dabney spoke stood the remains of a stone building where someone had spray-painted “Stop Meth” on its roofless walls. Still, there are signs of change, he said.

Dabney pointed across the street to a field where a trailer had sat empty for years before the town removed it. The town was halfway through tearing down another home in disrepair on the next block. Another house on the same street was being cleaned up for an incoming renter: a new mental health worker at the drop-in center.

Just down the road, work was underway on the new campus for addiction recovery, called Kaala’s Village. Kaala means “grandmother” in Crow.

The site’s first building going up is a therapeutic foster home. Plans include housing to gradually reunite families, a community garden, and a place to hold ceremonies. Doyle said the goal is that, eventually, residents can help build their own small homes, working with experienced builders trained to provide mental health support.

She said one of the most important aspects of this work “is that we finish it.”

Tribal citizens and organizations have said the political chaos of Trump’s first year back in office shows the problem with relying on federal programs. It underscores the need for more grassroots efforts, like what’s unfolding in Lodge Grass. But a reliable system to fund those efforts still doesn’t exist. Last year’s federal grant and program cuts also fueled competition for philanthropic dollars.

Kaala’s Village is expected to cost $5 million. The association is building in phases as money comes in. Doyle said the group hopes to open the foster home by spring, and family housing the following year.

The site is a few minutes’ drive from Lonny and Teyon’s childhood home. In addition to building the new facility’s walls, they’re getting training to offer mental health support. Eventually, they hope to work alongside people who come home to Kaala’s Village.

As for their own home, they hope to restore it — one room at a time.

“Just piece by piece,” Lonny said. “We’ve got to do something. We’ve got these young ones watching.”

This article first appeared on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News and is republished here under a .

Permanent changes to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program are coming regardless of the outcome of at least two federal lawsuits that seek to prevent the government from cutting off November SNAP benefits. The lawsuits challenge the Trump administration’s refusal to release emergency funds to keep the program operating during the government shutdown.

A federal judge in Rhode Island ordered the government to use those funds to keep SNAP going. A Massachusetts judge in a separate lawsuit also said the government must use its food aid contingency funds to pay for SNAP, but gave the Trump administration until Nov. 3 to come up with a plan.

Amid that uncertainty, food banks across the U.S. braced for a surge in demand, with the possibility that millions of people will be cut off from the food program that helps them buy groceries.

On Oct. 28, a vanload of SpaghettiOs, tuna, and other groceries arrived at Gateway Food Pantry in Arnold, Missouri. It may be Gateway’s last shipment for a while. The food pantry south of St. Louis largely serves families with school-age children, but it has already exhausted its yearly food budget because of the surge in demand, said Executive Director Patrick McKelvey.

New Disabled South, a Georgia-based nonprofit that advocates for people with disabilities, announced that it was offering one-time payments of $100 to $250 to individuals and families who were expected to lose SNAP benefits in the 14 states it serves.

Less than 48 hours later, the nonprofit had received more than 16,000 requests totaling $3.6 million, largely from families, far more than the organization had funding for.

“It’s unreal,” co-founder Dom Kelly said.

The threat of a SNAP funding lapse is a preview of what’s to come when changes to the program that were included in the One Big Beautiful Bill Act that President Donald Trump signed in July take effect.

The domestic tax-and-spending law cuts $187 billion within the next decade from SNAP. That’s a nearly 20% decrease from current funding levels, according to the Congressional Budget Office.

The new rules shift many food and administrative costs to states, which may lead some to consider withdrawing from the program, which helped about 42 million people buy groceries last year. Separate from the new law, the administration is also pushing states to limit SNAP purchases by barring such things as candy and soda.

All that “puts us in uncharted territory for SNAP,” said Cindy Long, a former deputy undersecretary at the Department of Agriculture who is now a national adviser at the law firm Manatt, Phelps & Phillips.

The country’s first food stamps were issued at the end of the Great Depression, when the poverty-stricken population couldn’t afford farmers’ products. Today, instead of stamps, recipients use debit cards. But the program still buoys farmers and food retailers and prevents hunger during economic downturns.

The CBO estimates that will lose food assistance as a result of in the budget law, including applying work requirements to more people and shifting more costs to states. Trump administration leaders have backed the changes as a way to limit waste, to , and to .

This is the biggest cut to SNAP in its history, and it is coming against the backdrop of rising food prices and a fragile labor market.

The exact toll of the cuts will be difficult to measure, because the Trump administration that measures food insecurity.

Here are five big changes that are coming to SNAP and what they mean for Americans’ health:

1. Want food benefits? They will be harder to get.

Under the new law, people will have to file more paperwork to access SNAP benefits.

Many recipients are already required to work, volunteer, or participate in other eligible activities for 80 hours a month to get money on their benefit cards. The new law to previously exempted groups, including homeless people, veterans, and young people who were in foster care when they turned 18. The expanded work requirements also apply to parents with children 14 or older and adults ages 55 to 64.

, if recipients fail to document each month that they meet the requirements, they will be limited to three months of SNAP benefits in a .

“That is draconian,” said Elaine Waxman, a senior fellow at the Urban Institute, a nonprofit research group. About 1 in 8 adults reported having lost SNAP benefits because they had problems filing their paperwork, according to .

Certain refugees, asylum-seekers, and other lawful immigrants are cut out of SNAP entirely under the new law.

2. States will have to chip in more money and resources.

The federal law drastically increases what each state will have to pay to keep the program.

Until now, states have needed to pay for only half the administrative costs and none of the food costs, with the rest covered by the federal government.

Under the new law, states are on the hook for 75% of the administrative costs and must cover a portion of the food costs. That amounts to an estimated median cost increase for states of more than 200%, according to by the Georgetown Center on Poverty and Inequality.

A ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News analysis shows that a single funding shift related to the cost of food could put states on the hook for an additional $11 billion.

All states participate in the SNAP program, but they could opt out. In June, nearly wrote to congressional leaders warning that some states wouldn’t be able to come up with the money to continue the program.

“If states are forced to end their SNAP programs, hunger and poverty will increase, children and adults will get sicker, grocery stores in rural areas will struggle to stay open, people in agriculture and the food industry will lose jobs, and state and local economies will suffer,” the governors wrote.

3. Will the changes lead to more healthy eating?

The Trump administration, through its “Make America Healthy Again” platform, has made healthy eating a priority.

Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has championed the restrictions on soda and candy purchases within the food aid program. To date, to limit what people can buy with SNAP dollars.

Federal officials previously blocked such restrictions, because they were difficult for states and stores to implement and they boost stigma around SNAP, according to . In 2018, the first Trump administration to ban sugar-sweetened drinks and candy.

A store may decide that hassle isn’t worth participating in the program and drop out of it, leaving SNAP recipients fewer places to shop.

People who receive SNAP are no more likely to buy sweets or salty snacks than people who shop without the benefits, . Research shows that encouraging healthy food choices is than regulating purchases.

When people have less money to spend on food, they often resort to cheaper, unhealthier alternatives that keep them sated longer rather than paying for more expensive food that is healthy and fresh but quick to perish.

4. How will SNAP cuts affect health?

Advocacy organizations working to end hunger in the nation say the cuts will have long-term health effects.

Research has found that kids in households with limited access to food to have a mental disorder. Similarly, food insecurity is linked to .

Working-age people with food insecurity to experience chronic disease. That high blood pressure, arthritis, diabetes, asthma, and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.

Those health issues come with costs for individuals. Low-income adults who aren’t on SNAP more a year on health care than those who are.

lived in households with limited or uncertain access to food in 2023.

5. What does this mean for the nation’s food supply chain?

SNAP spending directly boosts grocery stores, their suppliers, and the transportation and farming industries. Additionally, when low-income households have help accessing food, they’re more likely to spend money on other needs, such as prescriptions or car repairs. All that means that every dollar spent through SNAP generates at least $1.50 in economic activity, .

A report by associations representing convenience stores, grocers, and the food industry estimated it to comply with the new SNAP restrictions.

Advocates warn stores may pass the costs on to shoppers, or they may close.

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“I could hear the bones moving around in my elbow,” said Buttgereit, who was 60 when she slipped on a patch of ice in December outside her apartment in Bozeman, Montana.

Emergency room scans showed she had fractured her left arm near the joint. Doctors told her she needed surgery to repair it.

At the time, Buttgereit didn’t have health insurance — she had struggled to afford coverage after her husband’s death. The local health system, Bozeman Health, estimated Buttgereit would have to pay $50,560 out-of-pocket for the outpatient surgery to have her elbow pieced back together.

The estimate noted: “You could be charged more if complications or special circumstances occur.”

Four days after her fall, Buttgereit went in for surgery, which took about three hours. During a follow-up visit, she said, her doctor told her the procedure ended up being more complicated than expected.

Then the bill came.

The Medical Procedure

Buttgereit broke her humerus, the upper-arm bone that meets two other bones and forms the elbow. The way the bone splintered is known as a distal humerus fracture. It’s rare as far as breaks go, accounting for only about among adults. But older people, as well as kids in high-contact sports, are more prone to the big falls that lead to such fractures. The injury is painful and can make it impossible to move the elbow.

Some of these types of fractures heal with time in a splint, but most often surgery is the only fix. The patient is put under anesthesia while a surgeon repositions fragmented bones with plates and screws.

The Final Bill

$97,998. That includes at least $44,300 for the operating room and anesthesia administration, plus more than $50,000 for medical supplies and implants, such as screws and plates. After the hospital applied a self-pay discount, Buttgereit was on the hook for $78,398.40.

The Problem: Surprise Complications, Surprising Charges 

The hospital said the price for Buttgereit’s surgery increased because doctors encountered complications midprocedure.

In particular, the fall had shattered Buttgereit’s bone into more pieces than her surgeon anticipated, according to operating notes. That meant it took more time, skill, and supplies to reconstruct her elbow. And, since she was uninsured, Buttgereit alone faced the burden to pay the higher costs.

“I’ll make payments the rest of my life to pay it all off,” she said.

Buttgereit’s husband died suddenly in 2023. About a year later, she left her job with the company that had employed them both. The memories of him in that space were too difficult, she said. That also meant leaving behind her health coverage. She moved to Bozeman to be closer to one of her daughters and found a health plan at healthcare.gov that the federal government subsidized because of her limited income.

But she also faced a higher cost of living in Bozeman than her Social Security benefits could cover, and she needed part-time work. While that new income helped pay her bills, Buttgereit said, she no longer qualified for the same level of subsidized coverage and couldn’t afford her plan. So she dropped her health insurance.

About two months later, she fell.

After getting the surgery bill, Buttgereit began calling and emailing the hospital’s customer service team, asking how the price had risen from the $50,560 estimate to nearly $98,000. The hospital had automatically applied the self-pay discount of $19,600 to Buttgereit’s bill — 20% of the total. But that still left her with a tab of more than $78,000.

After more time to think pain-free, she said, she also wanted to know why the initial estimate was much steeper than those she found online for similar procedures.

Specifically, Buttgereit asked how to dispute her bill. When she felt she wasn’t making progress contesting the charges with the hospital, she asked about her options under the No Surprises Act, a federal consumer protection law.

According to emails reviewed by ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News, a Bozeman Health billing employee incorrectly told Buttgereit the law applies only to ER services. The employee later said Buttgereit had the right to dispute the bill but gave her an incorrect deadline.

Hospital staffers recommended Buttgereit set up a payment plan and apply to the health system’s financial aid program.

Erin Schaible, a spokesperson with Bozeman Health, told ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News that online estimates don’t reflect the specific details of a patient’s care. In addition to the shattered bones noted in Buttgereit’s surgery notes, Schaible said the physician identified nerve damage midsurgery that required additional work to fix.

“This situation highlights the importance of clear and compassionate communication,” Schaible said. “In response, our team leaders are revising internal protocols for escalating patient concerns and are reeducating staff on best practices for communicating cost estimate changes.”

The Resolution

Buttgereit refused to apply for financial aid, opting instead to challenge what she sees as inflated pricing. Using Healthcare Bluebook, an online price comparison tool that draws on insurance claims data, Buttgereit found similar procedures ranged from $8,000 to $40,000.  

She said she believes that there are also errors on her bill and that the complications didn’t justify the price.

“I felt like going through financial assistance means that I’m OK with the price of the bill,” she said. “I want to get the bill reduced on the front end and then, if I need financial assistance, go through it.”

A billing employee emailed Buttgereit in May to offer an additional $7,000 discount if she set up a payment plan. If she later qualified for financial assistance, “we will adjust the amount accordingly,” the email said.

In June, the employee told Buttgereit her account would be put on hold before a collection process was initiated, “so that you have time to decide what to do.”

Buttgereit agreed to a payment plan of $100 a month, though she continued to contest the total charges.

At that rate, it would take about 60 years to pay off the debt — or longer, if the health system were to charge interest.

Buttgereit made one more bid for help: She emailed the White House.

This month, in the same week she got a detailed letter from the hospital standing by its charges, Buttgereit said she received a call from an official with the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services, saying she could dispute the bill to federal health officials.

The Takeaway

The best time to push back against a price is before surgery, upon receiving a hospital’s best guess on costs, known as a “good faith estimate.” Otherwise, undergoing surgery is considered tacit acceptance of that price as a baseline.

Patricia Kelmar, director of health care campaigns at the national consumer advocacy group U.S. PIRG, follows ways in which people get tangled financially in the health industry. She said patients should compare cost estimates by searching their (as well as those of nearby hospitals) to see whether the estimates align. But not every procedure makes those lists, especially those for uncommon injuries, nor is every hospital’s list easy to access and navigate.

Post-surgery, patients have few resources to fight big bills, but a little-known rule in the No Surprises Act could help, Kelmar said.

The law, which took effect in 2022, is best known for protecting patients from surprise bills for out-of-network, emergency care. But it also created for uninsured patients, or those paying completely out-of-pocket for nonemergency procedures, if their final tab is $400 or more than the initial estimate.

“This is a valid, important part of making sure that patients who are cash-pay have a watchdog,” Kelmar said.

People can start the online, through the CMS website, by providing medical records and paying a $25 fee. Patients must initiate the process within 120 days of receiving the bill, and the bill may not be sent to a collection agency while under review.

An independent reviewer evaluates whether the final price is drastically different from what a health insurance company would have paid and whether the complication was predictable. If the review finds that the health provider erred on either front, federal health officials could require them to reduce the bill to match the original estimate or the median price insurers pay.

Buttgereit said she initially opted against pursuing that formal dispute process because, after such a review, the hospital’s initial estimate, and she still had questions about how it would work. But after hearing from CMS, Buttgereit said it’s the path she plans to take.  

“You’ve got to fight for yourself,” she said. “I don’t know where this is going to end up, but I feel a little bit more hopeful.”

Bill of the Month is a crowdsourced investigation by ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News and that dissects and explains medical bills. Since 2018, this series has helped many patients and readers get their medical bills reduced, and it has been cited in statehouses, at the U.S. Capitol, and at the White House. Do you have a confusing or outrageous medical bill you want to share? Tell us about it!

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Georgia is the only state with a work requirement in place for Medicaid, but several states have been pursuing such a policy for years, only to be blocked by courts or, most recently, the Biden administration. Some seek state-specific touches to the new rules. Others aim to implement work requirements before the federal law takes effect at the end of 2026.

These states’ moves and Trump’s massive tax-and-spending law share one demand: To keep their Medicaid health coverage, adults who can work must prove they’re logging a minimum number of hours at a job or school, or else qualify for one of the few exemptions.

But now, states that jumped ahead need to ensure their proposals, which require federal approval, don’t stray too far from Trump’s law.

“The statute sets both the floor and ceiling” for work requirements, said Sara Rosenbaum, a health law and policy professor with George Washington University.

South Dakota, for example, an application for work requirements as previously planned amid concerns that the state’s laxer rules would not be allowed under the new federal law. The state’s Department of Social Services secretary had warned that working on a state proposal while the federal rules are being hashed out could be “.”

Arkansas’ plan, on the other hand, is more stringent than the federal law. There are no exemptions to its work requirements , which is pending with the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services.

Arizona’s proposal also includes something that’s not in the federal law: a ban on “able-bodied adults” receiving Medicaid benefits for longer than five years total in their lives.

Arkansas and Arizona government officials said they were working with federal officials to square their plans with the new standards.

Andrew Nixon, a spokesperson for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, said the department is analyzing how the new federal standards interact with state waivers.

The federal health department must release rules by next June that outline how states are to implement work requirements, according to , who has been tracking such waivers as part of the Program on Medicaid and the Uninsured at KFF, a health information nonprofit that includes ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News.

“We don’t exactly know what that will cover,” Hinton said.

It’s unclear how federal officials will respond to the states’ requests, she added, but “we are aware that some folks think there is no wiggle room here.”

States can tweak their Medicaid programs through what are known as demonstration waivers, which are subject to federal approval. The waivers are designed to test new ideas in policy gray areas.

The states that have filed or plan to file such applications with work requirements include Arizona, Arkansas, Georgia, Idaho, Indiana, Iowa, Kentucky, Montana, New Hampshire, North Carolina, Ohio, South Carolina, South Dakota, and Utah.

Congressional Republicans who passed the budget reconciliation bill left room for states to use waivers to fast-track the national standards. Tara Sklar, a professor leading the University of Arizona’s Health Law & Policy Program, said she expects states seeking certain stricter requirements to have a chance of approval, while more lenient ones may face denials.

Federal officials may look favorably on Arizona’s plan, Sklar said, as a five-year lifetime Medicaid limit is different from work requirements. Even if the federal government greenlights stricter work requirements than the federal law calls for, those programs are likely to face legal challenges, she added.

The federal law includes an 80-hour-per-month minimum for work or education, with exemptions for certain adults, including people who are medically frail and parents with young, dependent children.

Montana is the first state to draft a waiver application since Congress finalized national work requirements. State lawmakers first approved work requirements — called “community engagement” standards under the state plan — in 2019, but the state’s application stalled through the end of the first Trump term and the Biden administration.

After Trump was elected again, Montana lawmakers lifted the 2025 expiration date of its Medicaid expansion program, making permanent the program that covered more than 76,000 adults in April, with the expectation that the Trump administration would approve work requirements. In mid-July, state officials to make that a reality “as soon as is practicable.”

The Montana plan largely aligns with the federal law, but it would create additional exemptions, including for people who are homeless or fleeing domestic violence.

Republican state Sen. Gayle Lammers said work requirements that also protect such people who need Medicaid were a big part of persuading legislators to keep the expansion program. At the time, officials didn’t know where the federal government would land on work requirements. And now, Lammers said, it makes sense for Montana to stick to its plan.

“The state should have a say,” Lammers said. “We’re very independent, and everyone is different.”

In South Carolina, state officials are seeking to roll out work requirements for a limited number of newly eligible Medicaid beneficiaries. South Carolina is one of 10 states that has not expanded Medicaid eligibility under the Affordable Care Act, and yet the state submitted a request with the federal government in June for a partial Medicaid expansion that includes a work requirement component that largely reflects the new federal standards.

In to Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr., South Carolina Gov. Henry McMaster, a Republican, called South Carolina’s proposal “a state-specific solution.”

The only state with an active work requirement program now wants to scale it back and awaits federal approval to do so. “Georgia Pathways to Coverage” expires at the end of September unless CMS greenlights an extension of the program with a key change: requiring enrollees to document once a year that they’re working, not monthly. That’s a pivot away from the program’s initial design but also differs from the new federal rules, which call for checks every six months.

Fiona Roberts, a spokesperson for Georgia’s Medicaid agency, said the state is still waiting to hear whether it needs to alter its plan.

So Georgia is among the states in limbo, awaiting guidance from the federal government.

ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø News correspondents Sam Whitehead and Lauren Sausser contributed to this report.

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