As traditional funding sources grow more restricted, scholars and universities are looking to the public to power progress.

In a small lab at the University of Washington, evolutionary biologist Dr. Emily Lescak is sequencing salmon DNA with a modest but meaningful budget—not from the National Science Foundation or a major pharmaceutical sponsor, but from hundreds of strangers on the internet. Her research is one of many funded through Experiment.com, a platform where the public can directly donate to support scientific discovery.

As traditional funding avenues face increased politicization, scrutiny, and budget cuts, researchers and institutions are rethinking the question that has long dogged academia: Who pays for knowledge?

From GoFundMe campaigns to alumni giving circles, a growing number of scholars are turning to people-powered funding models to keep their work alive. As government support is often delayed or denied for studies in sensitive areas such climate change, racial equity, reproductive health, LGBTQ+ well-being, crowdfunding, and micro-philanthropy are emerging as vital lifelines.

Federal support for research and development in the U.S. has been declining as a share of GDP for decades. According to data from the National Center for Science and Engineering Statistics, federal R&D funding peaked at 2% of GDP in the 1960s and has since fallen to around 0.7%. Meanwhile, the approval rate for research grants through the National Institutes of Health (NIH) hovers around 20%, with even lower success rates for early-career scholars and interdisciplinary projects.

At the same time, public universities in states with politically conservative legislatures have seen increased oversight of research funding. In Florida, for example, Governor Ron DeSantis signed a 2023 law that restricts the use of state funds for diversity, equity, and inclusion programs, leading some researchers to lose support for studies perceived as “ideological.”

This climate has prompted a shift: if governments and corporations won’t foot the bill, maybe the public will.

Founded in 2012, Experiment.com now hosts hundreds of projects across fields like biology, astronomy, and environmental science, with researchers from institutions including Stanford, MIT, and Harvard. Unlike traditional grants, the platform allows scientists to pitch directly to the public. Backers receive regular updates, creating transparency and public engagement.

“A lot of early-stage or high-risk research just doesn’t get funded by federal agencies,” said Experiment.com Co-Founder Cindy Wu in a 2022 interview with Nature. “Crowdfunding gives researchers a shot at proving their idea is worth exploring.”

Outside of science-specific platforms, Kickstarter has funded archaeological digs, educational tools, and open-source hardware linked to academic labs. For instance, in 2019, a team from the University of Cambridge raised more than $20,000 for a public archaeology project in Jordan through the platform, according to reporting from Ars Technica.

More urgent or community-based projects often land on GoFundMe. In 2021, residents of Richmond, California, raised over $10,000 to fund independent air quality monitoring near Chevron’s oil refinery, as reported by Grist.

New Models of Collective Giving

Beyond individual crowdfunding campaigns, universities and scholars are experimenting with collective giving and micro-philanthropy. Research4Impact, a nonprofit founded in 2017, connects community groups with researchers and volunteer analysts to co-produce studies around issues like environmental justice or public health.

Similarly, giving circles—groups of donors pooling funds to support shared causes—are increasingly used for university-based or adjacent research. According to a report by the Collective Giving Research Group, giving circles have grown significantly, with over 2,500 groups contributing more than $1.3 billion since 2000. Many are now backing hyperlocal or equity-driven research projects.

Some faculty members have even launched Patreon accounts, a platform better known for supporting artists and content creators. There, researchers share exclusive content, lab updates, or educational resources with subscribers who chip in a few dollars monthly. While it won’t replace a multimillion-dollar NIH grant, it can bridge gaps or pay for open-access publishing fees.

Democratizing Innovation

Supporters say this shift is democratizing science by making research more accessible and accountable to the public. It allows communities to invest in areas that matter to them—and scholars to stay in conversation with those they aim to serve.

Still, the model has limitations. As noted in a 2020 Science article, crowdfunding often favors projects that are “media-friendly,” emotionally compelling, or easily understood by the lay public. Groundbreaking but abstract theoretical work may struggle to gain traction.

Yet the appetite for alternative models is growing.

As federal funding stagnates and ideological battles target academic freedom, people-funded research may no longer be a fringe experiment. It might be the future.

Universities are beginning to formalize support. Some, like the University of California, Berkeley, have launched their own internal crowdfunding platforms to help faculty and students connect with donors. Others are building networks of alumni and parents to support innovation microgrants.

At a time when trust in institutions is eroding, there’s a poetic twist to the public taking the reins. The democratization of research funding—warts and all—might just keep innovation alive.

As Dr. Lescak puts it: “When people believe in the work, they’ll show up. And sometimes, they show up with their wallets.”