We tend to celebrate breakthroughs—the moment CRISPR became a gene-editing tool, the invention of the internet, the eradication of a disease that had once killed millions. But behind every one of these leaps forward is a long, slow accumulation of work: decades of unnoticed research, unglamorous infrastructure, and policies that quietly sustain progress.
This month, I’ve been thinking about these often-overlooked foundations of progress. Whether in fundamental science, public health, or investments in seemingly niche technologies, breakthroughs rarely arrive in a flash of insight. More often, they emerge from a scaffolding of knowledge and resources built over years—sometimes decades—until one day, the right conditions align. In many cases, this means research that initially appears odd or impractical is actually laying the groundwork for future breakthroughs. And when those foundations are neglected, the consequences often become clear only when it’s too late.
What I’ve written
This month, I co-authored an article for Asterisk Magazine titled “A Defense of Weird Research.” Lauren Gilbert and I took a close look at how seemingly odd or impractical scientific studies—think levitating frogs or analyzing Gila monster venom—often end up delivering transformative breakthroughs that pay for themselves many times over. We wrote it in the context of looming federal funding cuts by the new Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) — and discuss why the government is uniquely well-positioned to fund this type of research. While the current NIH and NSF review systems could certainly be improved—and Lauren and I include a few thoughts on how to do so in the piece—their funding is critical for nurturing the kind of basic research that eventually becomes tomorrow’s medical breakthroughs and market-shaping technologies.
We didn’t know that studying Gila monster venom would lead to the invention of GLP-1 agonists like Ozempic, or that horseshoe crab blood would prove crucial to vaccine development, or that studying bacteria in geysers would lead to the development of PCR, the technology which allows scientists to detect DNA in small samples, and on which much of modern molecular biology — from genetic testing and COVID diagnostics — rests.
Keep reading: A Defense of Weird Research
What I’ve been reading
This paper about how new technologies may be best-suited to the environments in the countries that develop them, and how that contributes to lower agricultural productivity in low- and middle-income countries.
An influential explanation for global productivity differences is that frontier technologies are adapted to the high-income countries that develop them and "inappropriate" elsewhere. We study this hypothesis in agriculture using data on novel plant varieties, patents, output, and the global range of crop pests and pathogens. Innovation focuses on the environmental conditions of technology leaders, and ecological mismatch with these markets reduces technology transfer and production. Combined with a model, our estimates imply that inappropriate technology explains 15-20% of cross-country agricultural productivity differences and re-shapes the potential consequences of innovation policy, the rise of new technology leaders, and environmental change.
This article about how declines in infrastructure may be contributing to widespread parasitic infections in the southern United States.
Dorsey and her family lived in Shaw, Mississippi, a town of 1,400 people about 110 miles (175km) north of Jackson. The area is plagued by sanitation problems – residents in Bolivar county filed half a dozen complaints to state officials just last year about wastewater leaks and burst pipes that have exposed them to raw sewage.
Now, researchers warn that these problems are probably contributing to widespread intestinal infections and parasites such as hookworm, roundworm and tapeworm.
This piece about why the left should embrace pronatalism, and the downsides of an aging population.
Birth rates really are falling: America’s declined 2 percent from 2022 to 2023 alone, and only six countries are expected to have birth rates above the replacement rate in 2100. The policies associated with pronatalism, moreover, naturally belong to the left, and there is a progressive case for making the country more welcoming to families in hopes of achieving a range of benefits, including a bump in the birth rate.
What I’ve been thinking about
Lately, I’ve been thinking about the tension between patience and urgency in progress. The breakthroughs we celebrate—whether in science, technology, or policy—often require decades of quiet, methodical work before they suddenly appear inevitable. Yet, the systems that sustain this kind of slow progress are increasingly at odds with a world that demands immediate results.
We see this tension everywhere. AI companies race to release new models while safety researchers warn that we don’t yet understand their full risks. Governments want economic growth but hesitate to invest in infrastructure that won’t pay off for decades. Drug discovery pipelines are squeezed by investors demanding quarterly returns, even when the next life-saving treatment could take 20 years to develop.
Foreign aid is a perfect example of this tension: it’s often the first thing cut when budgets tighten, largely because its benefits aren’t immediate or easily measured. But history has shown that well-targeted aid doesn’t just save lives—it strengthens economies, stabilizes regions, and creates long-term strategic advantages for donor countries. For example, aid efforts to combat Ebola in West Africa didn’t just prevent a humanitarian disaster; they also helped prevent a global pandemic that could have reached American shores. Beyond its obvious humanitarian benefits, in the long term, consistent foreign aid strengthens soft power and fosters more stable international relationships.
As more institutions shift toward optimizing for speed and predictability, I worry about what gets left behind: the weird research, the moonshot ideas, the unglamorous infrastructure that makes breakthroughs possible. The challenge isn’t just defending these investments—it’s finding better ways to explain why they matter before their absence makes the case for us.