How Do We as Scientists Respond to Data Erasure?

As Caltech researchers, there is perhaps nothing so guarded as data. We scrutinize with excessive detail our data collection methods, data analysis methods, false-positive and false negative rates, and possible sources of bias to ensure that our interpretation of said data is trustworthy. But even before that…we make sure the data is there.

So, reading Jordan Marie-Smith’s NPR article, “USDA cancels survey tracking how many Americans struggle to get enough food,” felt like a punch in the gut. I thought I had misunderstood; but sure enough, the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s website confirms, “the termination of future Household Food Security Reports,” describing them as, “redundant, costly, politicized,” “extraneous,” “fear monger[-ing],” and “subjective liberal fodder.”

No evidence is presented to back this invalidation of 30 years of data collection, which assessed the needs of low-income households and determined budget allocations for the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) that serves ~12.3% of the population. Instead, emblazoned in a lovely brown at the top of the webpage is a banner reading, “President Trump has made it clear he wants to keep the government open and support those who feed, fuel, and clothe the American people.” NPR speculates this survey was curtailed to avoid assessing the effects of the administration’s “One, Big, Beautiful Bill” Act, whose expansion of SNAP work requirements is expected to halt food assistance for millions of Americans.

This is only the most recent instance of data censorship, an effort to minimize opposition to their political agenda by the current administration. In February, they eliminated the National Law Enforcement Accountability Database which tracked police misconduct (Tom Jackman, Elisabeth Dwoskin, The Washington Post). Executive Order 14253 in March prompted the review and removal of Smithsonian exhibits in the American Art Museum and National African American History Museum exhibits, claiming that their acknowledgement of racism in American history amounts to, “ideological indoctrination or divisive narratives” rather than focusing on, “American greatness” (Alex Greenberger, ArtNews). In August, they removed from the Department of Justice website a report on “What NIJ Research Tells Us About Domestic Terrorism,” most likely because it states that, “Since 1990, far-right extremists have committed far more ideologically motivated homicides than far-left or radical Islamist extremists.” (Joseph Gedeon, The Guardian). And last month, the records of roughly 1200 (yes, 1200) detainees at the condemned “Alligator Alcatraz” immigration detention center simply “disappeared” from the Immigration Customs Enforcement (ICE) database, leaving their families, friends, and lawyers with no information on their whereabouts or well-being (Amy Goodman, Democracy Now!). As dystopian as it may sound, the Trump Administration is waging a coordinated attack on our access to un-biased data, studies, and statistics that may injure their political image.

I don’t need to further publicize past examples of authoritarianism for you to understand the implications of data erasure. More qualified people than I have compiled libraries of literature on the subject. Instead, I’ll pose a question to the Caltech community at large, one which surfaced at the start of World War II and rang through the throes of McCarthyism: what is our role as researchers and scientists to respond to misinformation from our political leaders?

Perhaps the question is deceptively simple; the naive answer would be that we should do as we always do. We should continue to practice responsible data collection, peer review, and statistical inference to ensure that our own publications meet the worlds’ standard of objectivity. This role remains, but I would caution that we can easily isolate ourselves from the broader community. I’d liken my experience in academia to a walk through a redwood forest; while exploring with awe the nature around us, we can easily become lost in the trees. Immersed in research, we can lose sight of our commitments to the public good beyond results and publications. At this point in history, the forest has once again been set ablaze, and we are reminded we are not alone; our role in society must evolve to preserve our right to information.

Our responsibility as agents of research is not only to produce and interpret data, but to ensure it can be accessed freely, without censorship from political or financial interests. So how do we defend the independence of research? I propose that our mission is to leverage our unique skill of scrutiny: our ability to discern good research from bad, to call out our government for deleting, altering, or misrepresenting data. Perhaps we take for granted the tens or hundreds of Arxiv papers, requests for peer review, and the occasional pseudo-scientist’s email we must ingest and pass judgement on every week. But this is not a typical exercise undertaken by our neighbors outside of academia; overwhelmed by the internet’s information firehose, people are pressured every day to make snap judgements on complex issues based only on biased headlines and cherry-picked data. By flagging unreliable or missing data using well-practiced peer-review techniques rather than political hearsay, we can cut through the noise. We can present informed perspectives on important issues while building the research literacy of our communities.

An example that demonstrates the positive impact of researchers’ activism is Save our Signs, a volunteer initiative started by librarians at the University of Minnesota to document signage at National Parks at threat of being removed in response to Executive Order 14253. Georgetown University historians Jim Millward and Chandra Manning have expanded this effort with Citizen Historians for the Smithsonian to document exhibits at Smithsonian Museums. In both projects, academics identified the alarming political cleansing of American history and informed the wider public of its danger to free speech and dissent in our democratic society. They called upon everyday citizens to volunteer by taking photos of signs and exhibits with their own phones, standing for the freedom of information. So far, over 40,000 photos of National Parks signs and Smithsonian exhibits have been preserved by over 1400 volunteers through these programs. One example is an infographic at Muir National Park which was initially updated to document the genocide of the Coast Miwok people and theft of their ancestral lands, the racist policies and views of John Muir, William Kent, and Gifford Pinchot that excluded indigenous and Asian immigrant people from the National Park, and the contributions of women’s clubs and Elizabeth Kent to preservation efforts and the Women’s Suffrage Movement. The physical sign has been reverted to make no mention of the Coast Miwok, Asian immigration, or women’s clubs, but thankfully, the original was preserved online by Save Our Signs. Millward from Citizen Historians speaks about the importance of presenting the full range of perspectives in our history in an interview with NPR, saying, “I’m a historian of China, and so I’m really used to when governments are stepping in trying to whitewash history and censor history…We want [a museum] that’s honest and can talk about the whole range of our history and culture” (Elizabeth Blair, NPR).

Our voices, as researchers in higher education, are invaluable at a time when our neighbors are unsure what data to trust and when their elected officials have proven that they will lie under oath to maintain power. Our voices are essential in a time when history has been erased, research has been hidden, books have been burned, and science is sold for profit. We must speak up, LOUDLY and often, to protect our society from tyrannical data erasure.

Recall that we are not research machines, we are contributors to our society at large. Einstein did not limit himself to physics; in 1949, he wrote “On Socialism” for the Monthly Reviews, weighing the trade-offs between socialism and capitalism. Even though he was not an expert on the economy or politics, he realized that “…we should not assume that experts are the only ones who have a right to express themselves on questions affecting the organization of society.” In these times of tension, I urge you to express yourself: call out the censorship and erasure of data directly to your local lawmakers. Contribute photos to Save our Signs and Citizen Historians for the Smithsonian. Sign petitions to preserve funding for life-saving scientific research, like the American Cancer Society’s petition opposing cuts to federal cancer research funding. Protect your community with vigilance from the spread of misinformation, even just by discussing science policies with your loved ones or pointing out political bias masquerading as fact. In the midst of chaos, science, too, can speak truth to power.

Do you have ideas or resources that could help people combat data erasure? Share them with the Caltech community through this page linked by the QR code below: