Most people think America’s scientific dominance began with the Manhattan Project or the space race. That’s not wrong, but it misses the real story. By the time World War II arrived, we’d already spent decades quietly building the infrastructure that would make those massive wartime projects possible.

The foundation was laid much earlier, and in ways that might surprise you. What’s more surprising is how close that foundation came to crumbling—and what we nearly lost along the way.

The Land-Grant Revolution

The story really starts in 1862 with the Morrill Act—arguably the most important piece of science policy legislation most Americans have never heard of. While the Civil War was tearing the country apart, Congress was simultaneously creating a network of universities designed to teach “agriculture and the mechanic arts.”

This wasn’t just about farming. The land-grant universities were America’s first systematic attempt to connect higher education with practical problem-solving. Schools like Cornell, Penn State, and the University of California weren’t just teaching Latin and philosophy—they were training engineers, studying crop diseases, and developing new manufacturing techniques.

But here’s what’s remarkable: this almost didn’t happen. The 1857 version of Morrill’s bill faced heavy opposition from Southern legislators who viewed it as federal overreach and Western states who objected to the population-based allocation formula. It passed both houses by narrow margins, only to be vetoed by President Buchanan. The legislation succeeded in 1862 primarily because Southern opponents had left Congress to join the Confederacy.

Private Money Fills a Critical Gap

What’s fascinating—and telling—is how much of early American scientific investment came from private philanthropy rather than government funding. The industrial fortunes of the late 1800s flowed into research, but this created a system entirely dependent on individual wealth and personal interest.

The Carnegie Institution of Washington, established in 1902, essentially functioned as America’s first NSF decades before the actual NSF existed. Andrew Carnegie’s $10 million endowment was enormous—equal to Harvard’s entire endowment and vastly more than what all American universities spent on basic research combined. The Rockefeller Foundation transformed medical education and research on a similar scale.

But imagine if Carnegie had been less interested in science, or if the robber baron fortunes had flowed entirely into art collections and European estates instead. This mixed ecosystem worked, but it was inherently unstable. When economic conditions tightened, private funding could vanish. When wealthy patrons died, research priorities shifted with their successors’ interests.

Corporate Labs: Innovation with Built-In Vulnerabilities

By the 1920s, major corporations were establishing research laboratories. General Electric’s lab, founded in 1900 as the first industrial research facility in America, became the model. Bell Labs, created in 1925 through the consolidation of AT&T and Western Electric research, would later become legendary for discoveries that shaped the modern world.

These corporate labs solved an important problem, bridging the gap between scientific discovery and commercial application. But they also created troubling dependencies. Research priorities followed profit potential, not necessarily national needs. Breakthrough discoveries in fundamental physics might be abandoned if they didn’t promise immediate commercial returns.

More concerning, these labs were vulnerable to economic cycles. During the Great Depression, even well-established research programs faced significant budget cuts and staffing reductions.

Government Stays Reluctantly on the Sidelines

Through all of this, the federal government remained a hesitant, minor player. The National Institute of Health, created in 1930 with a modest $750,000 for building construction, was one of the few exceptions—and even then, the federal government rarely funded medical research outside its own laboratories before 1938.

Most university science departments survived on whatever they could patch together from donors, industry partnerships, and minimal federal grants. The system worked, but precariously. During the Depression, university budgets were slashed, enrollment dropped, and research programs had to be scaled back or eliminated. The National Academy of Sciences saw its operating and maintenance funds drop by more than 15 percent each year during the early 1930s.

The Foundation That Held—Barely

By 1940, America had assembled what looked like a robust scientific infrastructure, but it was actually a precarious arrangement held together by fortunate timing and individual initiative. Strong universities teaching practical skills, generous private funding that could shift with economic conditions, corporate labs vulnerable to business cycles, and minimal federal involvement.

When the war suddenly demanded massive scientific mobilization, the infrastructure held together long enough to support the Manhattan Project, radar development, and other crucial innovations. But it was a closer thing than most people realize. The Depression had already demonstrated the system’s vulnerabilities—funding cuts, program reductions, and the constant uncertainty that came with depending on private largesse.

What We Nearly Lost

Looking back, what’s remarkable isn’t just how much America invested in science before 1940, but how easily much of it could have been lost to economic downturns, shifting private interests, or political opposition. That decentralized mix of public and private initiatives created innovation capacity, but it also created significant vulnerabilities.

The war didn’t just expand American science—it revealed how unstable our previous funding system had been and demonstrated what sustained, coordinated investment could accomplish. The scientific breakthroughs that defined the next half-century emerged not from the patchwork system of the 1930s, but from the sustained federal commitment that followed.

Today’s scientific leadership isn’t an accident of American ingenuity. It’s the direct result of lessons learned from a system that worked despite its fragility—and the decision to build something more reliable in its place. The question is whether we remember why that change was necessary, and what we might lose if we return to depending on unstable, decentralized funding for our most critical research needs.

At research universities, zero-based budgeting is pretty rare. It means starting from zero expenditures and then justifying each budget line to reach an annual budget. It is frowned upon for long-term R&D projects for the apparent reason that it’s pretty challenging to predict a discovery that could be exploited to produce a measurable outcome.

Nevertheless, it’s worth considering using the process to optimize the entire US STEM/Biomedical enterprise from scratch.

Why Research Resists Zero-Based Budgeting

The resistance to zero-based budgeting in research environments stems from legitimate concerns. Academic institutions seldom adhere to a zero-based budget model because, as I stated above, scientific discovery is inherently unpredictable, and zero-based budgets require a significant amount of time and labor from units and university administrators to prepare, and this model can seriously encumber long-term planning.

Research requires substantial upfront investments in equipment, facilities, and human capital that only pay dividends over extended periods. The peer review system, while imperfect, has evolved as a way to allocate resources based on scientific merit rather than easily quantifiable metrics.

The Case for a National Reset

Despite these concerns, there’s a compelling argument for applying zero-based budgeting principles to the broader American STEM enterprise. Not at the individual project level, but at the systemic level—questioning fundamental assumptions about how we organize, fund, and conduct research.

Addressing Systemic Inefficiencies

Our current research ecosystem has evolved organically over decades, creating layers of bureaucracy, redundant administrative structures, and misaligned incentives. Universities compete for the same federal funding while maintaining parallel administrative infrastructures. A zero-based approach would force examination of whether these patterns serve our ultimate goals of scientific progress and national competitiveness.

Responding to Global Competition

The US still retains a healthy lead, spending $806 billion on R&D, both public and private, in 2021, but China is rapidly closing the gap. The Chinese government recently announced a massive $52 billion investment in research and development for 2024 — a 10% surge over the previous year, while the U.S. cut total investment in research and development for fiscal 2024 by 2.7%.

China had significantly increased its R&D investment, contributing over 24 percent of total global funding according to data from the Congressional Research Service, while the U.S. total remains strong, CRS data show that its share of total global expenditure dropped to just under 31 percent in 2020, down from nearly 40 percent in 2000.

Realigning with National Priorities

AI, pandemic preparedness, cybersecurity, and advanced manufacturing require coordinated, interdisciplinary approaches that don’t always fit neatly into existing departmental structures or funding categories. Starting from zero would allow us to design funding mechanisms that better align with strategic priorities while preserving fundamental research.

A Practical Framework

Implementing zero-based budgeting for the STEM enterprise could be approached systematically:

Phase 1: Comprehensive Mapping Begin by mapping the current research ecosystem—funding flows, personnel, infrastructure, outputs, and outcomes. This alone would be valuable, as we currently lack a complete picture of resource allocation.

Phase 2: Goal Setting Involve stakeholders in defining desired outcomes. What should American STEM research accomplish in the next 10-20 years? How do we balance basic research with applied research?

Phase 3: Pilot Implementation Rather than overhauling everything at once, implement zero-based approaches in specific domains or regions to identify what works while minimizing disruption.

Potential Benefits and Risks

A thoughtful application could yield improved efficiency by eliminating redundant processes, better alignment with national priorities, enhanced collaboration across institutional silos, and increased agility to respond to emerging threats.

However, any major reform involves significant risks. There’s danger of disrupting productive research programs, alienating talented researchers, or creating unintended bureaucratic complications. The political and logistical challenges would be immense.

Moreover, China has now surpassed the US in “STEM talent production, research publications, patents, and knowledge-and technology-intensive manufacturing”, suggesting that while spending matters, other factors are equally important.

Preserving What Works

Zero-based budgeting shouldn’t mean discarding what has made American research successful. The peer review system has generally identified quality research. The tradition of investigator-initiated research has fostered creativity and serendipitous discoveries. The partnership between universities, government, and industry has created a dynamic innovation ecosystem.

The goal isn’t elimination but examination of whether these elements are being implemented most effectively.

Conclusion

The idea of applying zero-based budgeting to American STEM research deserves serious consideration. By questioning assumptions, eliminating inefficiencies, and realigning priorities, we can create a research enterprise better positioned to tackle 21st-century challenges.

The process itself—careful examination of how we conduct and fund research—could be as valuable as specific reforms. In an era when Based on current enrollment patterns, China is projected to produce more than 77,000 STEM PhD graduates per year compared to approximately 40,000 in the United States by 2025, representing nearly double the US output., the ability to thoughtfully reimagine our institutions may be our greatest asset.

The question isn’t whether we can afford to undertake such a comprehensive review. The question is whether we can afford not to.