The Chilling of Caltech

There is a chill passing through Caltech.

Over the past year, the foundations of U.S. education, research, and democracy have been systematically targeted by the Trump administration. Hostile rhetoric against racial minorities, immigrants, and the LGBTQ community has escalated into ICE kidnappings, withdrawal from international collaborations, bans on federal programs promoting “diversity, equity, and inclusion” and more.

Within the education and research community, the fallout has been immediate: federal funds withheld or delayed; fellowship and grant programs paused, rewritten, or purged for “DEI” language; and uncertainty that has left faculty, graduate students, postdocs, and staff scientists in limbo. International students have been disproportionately targeted with new barriers to travel and renewal, heightened scrutiny of social media for anti-Trump sentiment, and threats of indiscriminate detention and deportation. Across the country, universities report decreased international enrollment as fear and friction rise.

The “Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education” recently codified White House demands for universities in exchange for federal funding: cut DEI programs, cap international students at 15% (and ensure they share “Western values”), use a vague and exploitable “force” to elevate conservative voices, and reject transgender, gender non-conforming, and intersex identities among students. The “Compact” was opened for universities to sign; none have publicly endorsed it outright, though some have been pressured directly with lawsuits and reached settlements implementing portions of its agenda. Others have raised tuition or cut positions to make up the gap. Many have remained silent — including Caltech.

Caltech has not been the epicenter of retaliation like some peers, but it has not been immune. I interviewed 25 students, faculty, staff, and administrators about the impacts they’ve observed, how Caltech has responded, and what this moment is doing to speech and trust on campus.

The impacts

Across the Institute, federal funding instability has been front of mind given President Trump’s initial proposal of 60%, 40%, and 25% cuts to the NSF, NIH, and NASA and a 15% cap on indirect costs. This would leave graduate students and postdocs without reliable lab support, projects without funding, and faculty unable to accommodate new students.

There are signs of partial stabilization: recent Congressional appropriations would leave agency funding flat, and court rulings that may limit some indirect-cost reductions. (Explore The American Association for the Advancement of Science’s appropriations dashboard) But budgets on paper have not prevented research funding from being withheld, delayed, or canceled. For many, the damage is already done.

BBE graduate students Maria Carilli and Jasmine Emtage saw NIH funding or applications delayed or cancelled. Jasmine, President of Caltech Graduate Researchers and Postdocs United (CGPU), ultimately secured an NIH F31, but noted: “other students in my lab were suddenly losing their funding because their grants have been canceled for mentioning DEI.”

PMA postdoc Dr. Ruby Byrne’s postdoctoral fellowship was temporarily withheld amid the DEI purge: “the expectations that the federal government will follow through on the obligations they’ve made … we can’t rely on that anymore.”

Dr. Cameron Hummels, a research scientist at Cahill and Director of Caltech Astrophysics Outreach, described NASA proposal calls pushed back by six months or more, with some canceled outright.

Zoe Readi-Brown, a chemistry graduate student, has been searching for a new lab after her previous one, an atmospheric chemistry lab, had to downscope a proposal: “that means that I actually can’t be funded.”

But science funding is only one layer. The atmosphere is also shaped by escalating ICE raids, heightened visa vulnerability, renewed marginalization of racial minorities and LGBTQ+ students, and the broader polarization of U.S. politics — including campus tensions around Israel-Palestine advocacy.

For example, Ilana Smith, Director of the International Offices, points out the travel bans: “Students from these countries who are in the U.S. now can apply, but they’re not going to get approved.”

Some students, including Rohan Shenoy, an international PMA graduate student and organizer with CGPU, face new restrictions on visa renewals that increase delays and risk.

Beyond Caltech, threatened cuts to the Department of Education and disability support programs ripple outward. The Assistant Director for Education Outreach at the Caltech Teaching and Learning Office (CTLO), Dr. Kitty Cahalan, warned that undermining funding to the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act “is going to affect families who have kids with special needs that are not going to be met.”

The fog of uncertainty

President Rosenbaum declined to comment for this article. His July 13 letter indicates Caltech joined four lawsuits challenging indirect-cost caps and created a working group to discuss funding cuts, while resolving to “Increase Revenue” and “Reduce Expenses” by withholding cost-of-living raises, reducing faculty hiring and graduate admissions, and exploring private philanthropy and investment as replacement funding sources. Ashley Pallie, director of the Undergraduate Admissions Office, also declined an interview.

According to Smith, Caltech’s International Scholar Services (ISS) submitted a public comment to oppose a proposed Congressional rule that would apply 4-year limits on F and J visas, updated their website to track immigration policies, and is developing an emergency ICE response plan. Zoe discussed how CGPU prompted Caltech to extend appointments for students struggling with visa renewals and create an emergency fund. Dr Jasmine Bryant, Director of the CTLO, also noted that administrators were checking in to ensure incoming international students could obtain visas.

Caltech has offered various stopgaps, reassuring some: “interest free loans to kind of bridge the gap” (Ruby), quick absorption of some displaced JPL staff (Dr. Nivedita Mahesh, PMA Postdoc), and advocacy trips to Washington. Mars Arechavala, chair of the Student Life and Experience Conference (SLEC), described staff in CCID who want “to fix the issues that they’re seeing.” Former co-chair of Black Scientists & Engineers of Caltech Thomas Henning feels like, “we get the support and attention to do effective work.”

But as one anonymous graduate office administrator notes, “We all know about what’s happened at Columbia and Harvard … I think there is incentive to keep a low profile on these issues.”

Thus, Caltech has not directly responded to the “Compact” or publicly opposed DEI and immigration policies. Shayna Chabner McKinney, Associate Vice President, Strategy Implementation and Chief Communications and External Relations Officer speaking on behalf of Caltech, explains that, “there is no existing form that is out there for signature,” despite the letter’s availability online. “I’m not going to comment from Caltech’s perspective on [the “Compact”].”

“We have to be thoughtful,” Undergraduate Dean Professor Jennifer Jahner says, “because so much remains up in the air in the budgetary cycle…The core principles of Caltech have always been to create opportunity…and we remain true to that spirit of inquiry.”

McKinney’s responses to anti-DEI policies on behalf of the Institute nonetheless ring hollow: “Caltech continues to act within legal parameters, and continues to maintain its focus on the research and education experience…The Institute has maintained its commitment to support its community.” It is the Institute’s unsatisfactory response which creates the condition echoed in nearly every interview: uncertainty.

Jahner described “a space of profound uncertainty and unpredictability … not being able to rely as you used to on certain expectations within funding structures … that impacts all of us … in concrete ways … and intangible, psychological ways.”

Rohan described how fear bleeds into daily life: after seeing a DHS vehicle near the gym, “for a month after that I was scared every time I saw a black SUV … This all is the background to which life exists, and then I get to work, trying not to think about this.”

CCE Professor Bil Clemons, who has advocated for diversity efforts on campus, captured the practical dilemma: “If Caltech makes a statement that jeopardizes JPL’s funding, how many mouths are not going to be fed? … It would be irresponsible … for our leadership to be too flippant.”

McKinney agrees: “The Institute doesn’t make a lot of statements because…as an Institute you are speaking with one voice … You are assuming you can assert authority over the voice of a diverse community of individuals.”

And yet many cannot see what’s being done. Theresa Tsaggaris, co-chair of BSEC, said she “ha[s] not seen a very strong response.” Others echoed that gap between internal action and public reassurance. Administrators argue that language is being cooled to avoid misrepresentation or retaliation; as a graduate administrator put it, “those programs still exist. But there is a kind of ‘toning down’ of the language, to be in compliance with US Department of Education directives.”

“Language is easily taken out of context,” Jahner said. “I think the best thing we can do … is to back our values with our actions.”

This is where the “chill” becomes more than budget anxiety. As many interviewees noted, our voices are powerful: that makes our silence terrifying.

How do students know that the Institute advocates for their interests when their efforts are hidden? Whose language should be tailored and scrutinized? How should students know that they are supported without becoming the victim of harmful policies? When will the Institute cross the fine line between keeping the peace and becoming complicit in oppressive policies?

McKinney’s inquisitive response is most telling: “What would indicate or communicate to them that the Institute was taking action in support of their interests?”

I realized I had approached the edge of the administration’s considerations, and that it’s perhaps this failure to relate Institute actions to students’ experience that lies at the heart of that “uncertainty” hanging like a fog over the Institute.

The shape of censorship

The chilling effect is self-censorship: limiting language preemptively under threat of authoritarian pressure. BBE PhD student and co-founder of the Palestinian Cultural Club Marina Lecoeuche put it plainly: “Caltech doesn’t have to receive the ‘Compact’ for it to have its intended effect.”

Some have not observed limits on Caltech’s speech. Ilana Smith, for example, thinks the Caltech administration has been, “consistent in their messaging about how much they value diversity.” But others described silence taking root — not because administrators are overtly hostile, but because fear shapes institutional incentives.

Marina described how risk has changed the cost of association: “People are afraid to be publicly associated with [PCC] if they are vulnerable … Caltech doesn’t really create a culture where people feel like that’s a possibility.”

Ruby voiced frustration with institutional timidity: “There’s a lot of power in speaking out … Caltech’s certainly not been on the right side of this … putting restrictions on student protest around Palestine.”

Hummels described how institutional constraints shape outreach: as a representative of a federally funded nonprofit, he must be “particularly careful about the wording” to avoid appearing partisan or jeopardizing status.

Graduate Student Council co-chair Zac Chase described the crackdown on language transgressing personal narrative: “I’m a first generation student, I’m an LGBTQ student… Those define my story. … And now, it kind of makes me less myself.”

For international scholars, the chilling effect is sharper because consequences can be immediate. “As an international student? I’m scared,” Nivedita said. “‘are you going to read something on my social media, or that I say at Caltech, [and] tomorrow, I can’t get my green card?’ … I hate that I have to be quiet.” Rohan agrees: “I don’t know if I have the right to free speech in this country.”

McKinney’s view contrasts sharply: “I’ve never met a Caltech student who didn’t feel empowered to reach out or write to anyone in leadership.” I’ll remind the reader that President Rosenbaum immediately declined my request for an interview.

Self-censorship is not just individual; it reshapes organizations. Theresa and Maria noted that DEI rollbacks began before the Trump administration: division DEI committees were renamed for “community-building”, and some narrowed funding streams while others halted meetings.

Theresa is especially thankful for the financial support of DEI committees, which have been essential for BSEC to organize spaces for Black students like the CEBAS conference: “[BSEC’s] main sources of funding were those DEI committees from all the divisions and within some of the divisions.” But they’ve received less money for this year’s conference; without them, “I think the future of [CEBAS] is…looking bleak unless we can secure external funding.”

And the campus-wide “business as usual” posture only deepens isolation. Rohan has “learned to compartmentalize” within a culture he experiences as politically disengaged: “Sometimes when my labmates are talking about something trivial, I’ve become a little bit jaded.” He finds hope, instead, in community structures — especially the union.

What students are doing anyway

Despite this chill, students are not inert. They are building mutual support structures and pursuing policy leverage.

PCC, Marina said, is primarily community: “keffiyeh lunch once a week … [is] a way that we can find community during a time that feels really scary.

CGPU has pushed for protections and broader solidarity, including campaigning for a proposed $23 billion bond supporting California science research (SB 895), contract expansions allowing visa reimbursement, and advocating for due process in the dismissal process. For Rohan, this is a matter of dignity as much as funding: “community is always good … but also we need to live lives of dignity in this country.”

EAS Professor Leonard Schulman also reflects that Chabad at Caltech and Caltech Hillel provide spaces for faculty to be “a sounding board for students … there’s a Jewish community here at Caltech, we like to support it, it has to do with maintaining community. That’s our main role.”

Student leaders face the same linguistic minefields. Mars described how SLEC work requires “really specific language now,” careful to avoid “getting in trouble,” even when the intent remains unchanged. Yet these constraints have not prevented action: student groups organized rapidly after weak racial representation in admissions, urging a town hall to demand concrete commitments.

Ashlyn Roice, ASCIT President, emphasized peer support systems and collaboration with Student Wellness Services and the International Offices to address holistic wellbeing: “When you’re not talking about things, you’re contributing to the problem, so it’s important that we have spaces for open dialogue." Ashlyn and Mars suggested that institutional quiet has, paradoxically, made them more compelled to speak.

Maria agrees: “I feel empowered … there are avenues through which I can express my discontent.” Jasmine described a confidence rooted in collective victories: “we were able to win our Union … I find a lot of strength in our power and numbers.” Zoe framed voice as her remaining hope: “I as an individual do still feel emboldened, empowered to keep standing up for what I believe in.”

The way forward

There are no easy answers. Many interviewees are sympathetic to the administration’s conundrum: speak too loudly and invite retaliation; stay too quiet and ally oppression. Zac called Caltech’s safety “a simple matter of luck.” Mars stressed that visible silence can obscure real care and effort.

Still, Caltech cannot persist indefinitely under a climate where advocacy is chilled and support is mostly private. Community spaces function as pressure valves and lifelines. They model what a university is supposed to protect: the ability to gather, speak, and belong without fear.

Several interviewees agreed that collectively, universities can signal that academic freedom and international collaboration are non-negotiable while protecting their most vulnerable members.

Rohan warned against “Caltech exceptionalism”: Caltech might survive by staying quiet, but “it might be the rest of academia that’s destroyed,” along with the collaborations Caltech depends on. In that view, institutional self-preservation without solidarity is not neutrality, but a choice with downstream costs. In response, McKinney says, “we’re in a period of real complexity, change, and uncertainty.”

On the individual level, interviewees preach resilience and communication. Ruby spoke of grieving and adapting without shutting down. Clemons hoped the turbulence could produce “a better desire to work towards a common good.” EAS Professor John Dabiri urged scientists to make the public case for why Caltech exists — and not assume appreciation is automatic. Hummels warns, “We need to be more aware of what’s going on and think about the best way to help make a difference.”

That communication work is inseparable from DEI: as Nivedita noted, outreach and accessibility efforts are often led by the very structures now under attack. If the public is alienated from science, funding collapses; if marginalized communities are excluded, science loses the diversity that improves it.

Concrete actions exist, even with uncertainty: write legislators; join advocacy and governance groups; attend a union, GSC, or ASCIT meeting; show up to a CTLO or Caltech Y event; reach out for help early. “If we don’t know the answer … we can find somebody who does,” Zac said. Ashlyn: “I want to hear what our student body needs and do my best to fulfill them.” Jahner emphasized CALE and divisional support for planning, applications, and contingencies. CTLO leaders urged students to use campus resources to reduce unnecessary stress.

Community itself is the consistent throughline — stronger than policy, stronger than fear. Zoe described how support transformed her experience from isolation to endurance. She hopes that others “are empowered and emboldened to use their own voices … to build a community to feel supported.”

Marina offers a closing sentiment: “This act of community is an act of hope, and it’s an act of faith in our future. When we build a community like this, it can serve as a sanity check that what’s happening right now isn’t normal, but also it won’t be like this forever — it’s the actions we take now that make a difference.”