This isn’t the first time James Gerber and Lisa Hilbink have packed up their things and left.
In the past 23 years, the married pair of academics have rented out their two-story house in Minnesota a handful of times – during sabbatical stints or fellowships. They’ve tucked away in boxes the family photos, handicrafts from trips to Latin America, and leather booties their children wore when they took their first steps.
But this time feels different.
Why We Wrote This
A recent survey of U.S. professors found that 75% were looking for work outside the country. The result is an exodus that has not been seen since European scientists sought refuge on U.S. shores during the World War II era. For the researchers who have chosen to leave, it is bittersweet – and professionally risky. But they say the future of science depends on it.
“We’ll do what we’ve always done in the past: Pack things up and leave it,” says Dr. Hilbink, sinking into a leather armchair in their St. Paul home. “But this time, I’ll bring certain special things with me, like my favorite photos.”
In a matter of months, the two will move to the south of France, where they’ve been offered spots within Aix-Marseille University’s Safe Place for Science initiative. Dr. Gerber is a climate researcher; Dr. Hilbink is a tenured professor of political democracy. They don’t know whether they’ll be welcome in the United States when they return.
“I hope it’s just paranoia,” says Dr. Hilbink, offering a pained glance at Dr. Gerber sitting beside her. “You prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”
The couple are part of a growing number of academics and researchers leaving the United States. As government funding for scientific research dries up, and as President Donald Trump wages pointed attacks against some of the nation’s top universities, more academics are looking to Europe and Asia as safe havens.
A recent survey of U.S. college faculty by the journal Nature found that 75% were looking for work outside the country. Some are doing so to protect their research, while others are trying to safeguard their individual freedoms. The result is a reverse brain drain that has not been seen since European scientists sought refuge on U.S. shores before and during World War II. For the researchers who have chosen to leave, it is bittersweet – and professionally risky. But they say the future of science depends on it.
“A lot of us scholars value our independence,” says Isaac Kamola, director of the American Association of University Professors’ Center for the Defense of Academic Freedom. “We value the ability to research, write and teach what we want, and do what we think is in the best interest of … our disciplines.
“So, when somebody comes and tells us, ‘No, you can’t say these words, you can’t teach this book … this class … it’s basically like saying to a doctor, ‘You’ve trained for years to become a doctor, but we’re not going to let you see patients. You’ll have to do office work,” says Dr. Kamola, who is also an assistant professor at Trinity College in Connecticut.
“If you use any of these words … you’ll get rejected”
Wendy, an anthropology professor in Minnesota who asked not to be named, has worked too long and hard to throw it all away. But when she saw the list of words banned by the Trump administration, she began to wonder whether her academic future was still in the United States.
“Gender, female, inequality … these themes are all part of my research,” she says, sipping a latte in a Twin Cities-area coffee shop. “If you use any of these words in a grant application now, you’ll get rejected.”
Wendy studies religion and migration among medieval populations. But she has become increasingly worried about getting funding for her research, which relies heavily on the National Endowment for the Humanities.
As part of its 2026 budget proposal, the Trump administration has called for the elimination of the NEH, the largest humanities funder in the United States. It has also dismantled the National Science Foundation, the only federal agency that funds research across all fields of science and engineering. It has already canceled at least 1,653 active research grants. On Aug. 21, the U.S. Supreme Court in a 5-4 vote allowed the White House to proceed with almost $800 million in cuts to research from the National Institutes of Health.
The Trump administration’s list of banned words is now at over 350 and growing, with words such as “woman,” “climate,” “race,” and “housing” on the list. It has also taken down from government websites decades-worth of data related to climate change, health, and other scientific research.
When Mr. Trump returned to office, he signed an executive order vowing to eliminate diversity, equity, and inclusion programs, including in higher education. That, and the rollback in funding, are part of what the administration sees as a corrective to what it considers a long leftward shift in higher education. The Education Department also has asked for enrollment data from universities to make sure that race isn’t being considered in admissions and has launched investigations into what it calls rampant antisemitism on campuses such as Harvard and Columbia.
This past year, Wendy heard from a French colleague that the University of Aix-Marseille had launched the Safe Place for Science program, freeing up 15 million euros ($17.6 million) to offer research grants to top U.S. professors. She, alongside nearly 300 others, applied immediately.
“Higher education is being silenced, censored,” says Wendy. “My job isn’t at risk yet. But it could be. Ever since Trump was elected, my feeling was, ‘We need to get out of America.’”
In June, Wendy – along with Dr. Gerber, Dr. Hilbink, and three dozen other candidates – flew to Marseille for final interviews. The university is in the process of making offers to about 20 candidates, who will have up to a year and a half to start their contract.
As part of the initiative, the university is also pushing French officials to create a special immigration status of “scientific refugee,” to recognize the current threat researchers face.
“More than 80 years ago, the United States welcomed exiled researchers to allow scientific research to continue, while France hid in the shadows of [Nazi Germany’s] occupation,” says Eric Berton, the president of Aix-Marseille University, in June. “[I hope] we can be a role model for this historic moment.”
The U.S. no longer a safe haven?
During the 1930s, many Jewish scientists, including Albert Einstein, Eugene Wigner, and Edward Teller, escaped Hitler’s Europe for the safety of the United States. Between 1939 and 1941, scientific exiles helped create the Manhattan Project and later the world’s first atomic bomb.
The period marked the beginning of what would become a tradition of collaboration between the U.S. government and scientists, spawning the National Science Foundation, the National Institutes of Health, and Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. Those agencies are largely responsible for everything from the moon landing to the internet.
“At the time, the United States was considered a land of freedom – a safe haven for people who were persecuted,” says Annette Wieviorka, a French historian and Holocaust specialist. “Its universities were considered the most open-minded and they welcomed researchers with open arms.
“Now, it feels like the United States is closing itself off,” she adds, “that it’s losing its position as a place of security, freedom, and creation.”
France’s Aix-Marseille University is one of a growing number of programs aimed specifically at recruiting American researchers.
The Netherlands’ education minister announced in March that his country was creating a fund to attract leading international scientists, while The Free University of Brussels in Belgium has unlocked $2.7 million in funding for foreign researchers.
In Spain, the Council of Ministers has approved a call for proposals worth up to 45 million euros (about $53 million) aimed specifically at attracting U.S. researchers.
Meanwhile, Germany, once the center of Europe’s scientific exodus, has unequivocally found itself on the other side of history.
“Free science and free international exchange are key for social and economic progress,” said leaders in a joint statement published in March by the Alliance of Science Organisations in Germany and the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research. “We can and want to offer research scientists who no longer see the opportunity to work freely in their country a perspective, within the scope of our possibilities, in the German research system.”
Can Europe afford U.S. researchers?
European universities are up against one major challenge in recruiting American researchers: money.
Despite Europe’s financial investments, researchers who decide to cross the Atlantic often face hefty cuts to their salaries. An average salary for a full professor in the U.S. is over $155,000; in Europe, it is around 50,000 euros (about $58,000). American universities also offer other perks, such as paid relocation and subsidized housing.
Wendy, the Minnesota anthropologist, says her salary in Marseille will be cut by about one-third. The university has promised to help her find housing, set up a bank account, and other necessities of starting over abroad, but she expects to have to make some concessions.
Her husband, a high school teacher, will need to find work. The couple will have to find a gymnastics club for one of their twin daughters, while navigating a new city in a new language that none of them speak.
“Right now, I can walk to work, the girls’ school is nearby, and we live close enough where the girls can go play on the campus football field on their own,” says Wendy. “Logistically, I’ve been having doubts. But we’ll go regardless. I’m thinking of my career long-term.”
Other researchers agree. They say they’re willing to give up American comforts in order to feel safe.
On a recent trip home from France, Brian Sandberg, a professor of European history, says he was worried about getting questioned at the U.S. border or having his mobile phone searched.
“I try not to weigh in on politics,” says Dr. Sandberg, from his home in Illinois. For the safety of his colleagues and students, he asked that his university not be named. “But if it affects universities and academics, well, it would only take a Google search to see my views.”
Dr. Sandberg says that, as a U.S. citizen, he is less worried about being denied entry and more concerned with insidious threats, such as online trolling. The real targets, he says, are international researchers and students.
In March, a French scientist was denied entry into the U.S. after immigration officers found anti-Trump messages on his mobile phone. More than 300 international students have had their visas revoked since Mr. Trump took office in January. In June, the Justice Department issued a directive that aims to strip naturalized Americans of their citizenship in certain cases.
Still, researchers have bristled at the idea of being labeled “refugees.” Dr. Gerber and Dr. Hilbink say they’re uncomfortable with being put in the same administrative category as Ukrainians and Palestinians, who face persecution and “truly have to leave home.” Observers are equally skeptical about creating a special status for scientific researchers.
“I don’t think we’re quite at the same level as during World War II,” says Dr. Wieviorka, the French historian. “At the time, scientists weren’t just at risk of losing their research. They were at risk of losing their lives.”
But for some American researchers, President Trump’s policies have hit close to home, and their reasons for leaving go beyond career goals.
Matthew, a tenured creative writing professor at a school in Connecticut, started thinking of moving his family to Barcelona, Spain, in the summer of 2024, after realizing that Mr. Trump’s views on transgender people would be “low hanging fruit for the new administration.” Matthew’s 13-year-old daughter is transgender, and he says he and his wife became fearful for their child’s future.
“All we want for our kids is for them to have the privilege of not worrying too much about things that 13-year-olds and 11-year-olds shouldn’t have to worry about,” says Matthew, who requested his real name be withheld to protect his family’s safety. “I’m trying to make the best out of the situation.”
He was already on a semester sabbatical in Barcelona to write a book and decided to extend it to an official leave of absence for one year. It took some convincing to get their two kids on board, but they’ve found a school and are all learning Spanish.
What happens after the year is up, he cannot say.
“I love my job,” says Matthew. “[My university] has done a pretty good job of protecting academic freedom. … It would be a heartbreak for me to have to leave my career.”
As much as university professors and researchers might be contemplating a move abroad, crossing the Atlantic is not going to become de rigueur, says Dr. Kamola of the AAUP.
Established professors might be in a good position to leave, such as Tim Snyder and Jason Stanley, both of whom announced that they are leaving Yale University for Canada. But, Dr. Kamola notes, there aren’t an abundance of positions for professors to move overseas. And some are tethered to the lives they built in the U.S., such as taking care of aging parents or raising children.
The unwitting losers may be future scholars.
“Potentially, you’re going to have a lot of really young, smart students who are passionate about learning but won’t go to grad school,” says Dr. Kamola. “[And] faculty are going to be in a position where they have to make more and more concessions.”
Observers have warned that tenured positions will be increasingly vulnerable to political attacks, and that the Trump administration could use moves from Florida Republican Gov. Ron DeSantis’ playbook, such as trying to ban materials from being taught. Scholars could find themselves censored or even self-censoring their own research.
That could affect science as a whole, which has a “critical role of independently analyzing someone’s data, critiquing methods, and challenging old as well as existing findings,” according to David Schley, deputy director of Sense about Science, a U.K.-based charity that promotes scientific evidence in the name of public interest.
“You can go across the world and see that authoritarian societies have a very strict control over what is published, what is disseminated,” says Dr. Schley. If one is looking at a list of countries banning books and freedom of speech, he contends, the U.S. is hardly going to come at the bottom.
That said, he adds: “It’s just the huge shift we’ve seen, going from being a leader in science, innovation, and disseminating information to taking this huge step back.”
“A defining professional moment”
Wendy, along with Dr. Gerber and Dr. Hilbink, have all received offers from the University of Aix-Marseille to teach. With all the administrative hurdles of moving abroad, they’re looking at a January start date next year.
They’re also still wrestling with some grumblings among French researchers, who have expressed resentment over university funding going to foreign researchers when local salaries are in dire straits.
“I have seen people online complaining about us, but there are only going to be about 20 researchers coming,” says Wendy. “I’m a little worried about how I’ll be perceived.”
But it will be worth it, they all say, in the spirit of helping save science – one researcher at a time.
“I’m not an activist, I’m a scholar. But this is definitely a defining professional moment,” says Dr. Hilbink, straightening her black-rimmed glasses. “There are lots of opportunities closing, but this is also a great opportunity to collaborate. We could make this into something where we build an institutional relationship along the way.”
