
Like many of you, I've been watching with deep concern as waves of executive orders and policy changes sweep across the United States, targeting some of our most vulnerable communities both at home and abroad.
The assault on human rights and dignity feels relentless—from outlawing trans healthcare and kids in sports to threats of sending undocumented people to Guantanamo Bay to defunding research containing terms like "gender" or "pregnant person.” The list is unfathomably long.
Many of you know that my partner and I recently moved to the Netherlands after seven years in Texas. People often tell us, "You got out at the right time." While there's truth in that, distance hasn't lessened my worry for friends and family back home and our global community. As one of the world's most powerful nations embraces policies of exclusion and intolerance, the ripple effects touch us all.
This moment calls for clarity, not ambiguity.
So let me be clear about where I—and by extension, Publish Not Perish and my coaching business—stand:
Trans rights are essential to our humanity. This includes access to gender-affirming healthcare, the right to participate in sports, and protections against discrimination.
Diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts are essential. While they alone won’t dismantle systemic inequality, they are necessary steps.
Black lives matter. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, forever.
We must strengthen, not dismantle, our educational institutions. This also includes resisting budget cuts and redundancies that undermine higher education, as we are witnessing in the UK and beyond.
Research must be funded, and researchers must be free to study marginalized and maligned communities. Silencing research doesn’t erase realities—it only deepens injustice.
US foreign aid programs, including USAID, are far from perfect, but their life-saving work should be expanded, not eliminated. Cutting support means callously abandoning the world’s most vulnerable people—many of whom are vulnerable because of American intervention in the first place.
Climate change is not an abstract future threat—it’s here. Until we make radical changes, catastrophic weather events will continue to devastate communities.
Undocumented people deserve dignity, protection, and pathways to citizenship—not fear, detention, and dehumanization. Immigration policy should center humanity, not cruelty.
Elon Musk can have Twitter, but billionaires should not control our governments. Democracy should be shaped by the people, not the people who can afford to buy it.
Leave Gaza alone. The atrocities that have unfolded are beyond comprehension, and continuing them is indefensible.
My body, my right. The same goes for every other body that old white men seek to control. Bodily autonomy is non-negotiable.
Why share this moral and political compass with you? I firmly believe that we cannot afford to be unclear about what is real, what is right, and what is important. Too much is at stake.
When I left academia, I committed to a personal is political mission: to support you in conducting research and teaching that makes a genuine difference in the world. Work that recognizes and addresses systemic inequalities. Work that builds bridges rather than walls. Work that creates positive change in a world that desperately needs it.
And this is where hope breaks through my concern.
Every day, I interact with scholars like you who are dedicated to understanding our world's complexities and working toward solutions. You study climate change, social inequality, healthcare disparities, and countless other crucial issues.
You teach students to think critically and engage empathetically. You broaden horizens. You push boundaries and challenge conventional wisdom.
I’m sure you are scared as you stand on the front lines, but you give me hope. Your research matters. Your teaching matters. In a time when science and knowledge are vilified, the work you do in classrooms, laboratories, and communities isn't just academic—it's vital to our collective future.
Keep writing, keep teaching, keep researching. The world needs your voice now more than ever, and I will continue to amplify it through my work at PNP and beyond.
Thank you. It's hard to maintain any bouyancy. But how do we keep fighting without it? Solidarity is so important.
So very well said. Thank you!
I'm afraid that there are tough times ahead for us all, but that only makes it more important that we stand with those who are hurting, threatened, and stand to lose so very much with the direction things are going.