The Trump administration has ignited a firestorm across the global research community by abruptly dismissing the entire National Science Board, the independent body that has overseen the United States’ premier science funding agency since 1950. In a terse email sent late last week, the White House informed all 22 seated members that they were “terminated, effective immediately,” a move one ousted board member described as the culmination of a systematic dismantling of scientific advisory structures. The board’s role—guiding the $9 billion National Science Foundation (NSF) and advising on national science policy—has been central to the post-war American model of arm’s-length research governance.

Viewed from Washington, the purge is the latest salvo in a broader campaign to remake institutions by removing independent voices and installing loyalists. Fired board member Willie May, a university research vice president, voiced deep disappointment but not surprise, noting a pattern of eroding procedural norms. Across the Pacific, the upheaval is being parsed in Tokyo, where the NSF funds numerous collaborative projects in fields from seismology to artificial intelligence. The dismissal of the board, whose members were appointed for staggered six-year terms to insulate them from political winds, has shaken confidence that federal science grants will continue to be allocated on the basis of peer review rather than ideology.

Yet the assault on institutional science is unfolding against an even stranger backdrop. Swiss media have drawn attention to a pledge President Trump made shortly before the board firings: to declassify and release long-secret UFO files. In the wake of that announcement, a series of unexplained disappearances of high-ranking military and scientific figures has reportedly drawn the attention of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The most prominent case involves retired Air Force General William Neil McCasland, who vanished from his home in Albuquerque, New Mexico, on 27 February. He left behind his mobile phone, spectacles, and Apple Watch, but his revolver was missing. His disappearance, detailed in European press reports, has fuelled online speculation about a wave of “missing scientists”—a theory the White House has not addressed.

Analysts in London note that while no direct connection between the board’s dismissal and McCasland’s fate has been established, the simultaneous narratives reinforce a perception of an administration that views independent expertise with suspicion. In Paris, there is growing alarm that the politicisation of US research bodies could unravel decades of transatlantic scientific cooperation. If the NSF’s grant-making becomes subject to political vetting, the global balance of scientific talent may shift, with Europe and Asia potentially benefiting from an exodus of disillusioned researchers.

The long-term consequences will ripple far beyond American shores. By hollowing out the buffer between science and the state, Washington risks not only the integrity of its own research output but also the trust of international partners who depend on the NSF’s impartiality. And while the mystery of the missing scientists remains just that—a mystery—it adds an unsettling layer to a moment when the world’s most powerful scientific nation appears, to many foreign observers, to be turning its back on the very principles that made it great.