Earth Day reminds us science is stronger when it starts with communities

Earth Day arrives this year at a moment of change — not just in the environment, but in how we respond. Since its start in 1970, when millions of Americans took to streets and campuses to demand cleaner air and water, it has marked a turning point between awareness and action.

In Washington state, the signs of change are hard to ignore. In December, record-breaking floods damaged or destroyed almost 4,000 homes and caused over $180 million in damage to roads and other infrastructure. Our snowpack sits at about half its historical average, threatening summer water supply for agriculture, drinking water and wildlife. Early season fire warnings and air quality alerts are already appearing across the West as unseasonable warmth dries out landscapes. These are not isolated events, but part of a shifting pattern across the Pacific Northwest.

As communities confront these impacts, national science-based environmental protections are being contested, reshaped and rolled back. Federal climate safeguards grounded in scientific findings are being weakened or eliminated. Billions in federal grants for environmental justice and community resilience have been terminated. 

For communities already living with disproportionate exposure to pollution, heat and flooding, the stakes for translating science into action have never been higher. As responsibility shifts to states and local communities, the question is not whether science matters, but how it shows up.

Science is essential; it helps us understand what is happening, anticipate what comes next and guide decisions that shape our health, safety and economy. 

But the story of how we do science is expanding. It is becoming more collaborative, more connected to real-world decisions and more inclusive of the people and communities who live with the outcomes.

In the growing practice of community-engaged research, scientists and communities work together from the start. Instead of studying neighborhoods from afar, researchers partner with the people who know those places best. Together they set priorities, gather and interpret data, and decide how findings will be used. The result is not only highly relevant science — it is science built for action.

Across Washington, we see what this looks like in practice. Community partners have helped design environmental monitoring that reflects real neighborhood conditions, not just regional averages. Families have shaped heat-response efforts that fit daily life. Communities are using locally tailored climate tools to understand risks from heat, flooding, wildfire smoke and sea-level rise, turning complex data into guidance for planning and preparedness. In each case, science is stronger because it starts with people and leads to solutions communities can use.

This approach matters even more when federal leadership shifts. When national protections weaken, communities and states must rely on trusted, locally grounded evidence to guide policy. Community-engaged research becomes a protective force — documenting experience, producing actionable knowledge and ensuring that community voices remain central in policy debates.

We need science in all its forms, from fundamental discovery to applied research, from long-term monitoring to rapid response.  At a moment when climate impacts are accelerating and national science-based frameworks are in flux, there is an opportunity for universities, even amid mounting pressures, to engage not as distant observers, but as partners. Public research institutions can help connect knowledge to the needs of communities, especially those who have borne the brunt of environmental harm.

But engagement does not happen by accident.

It requires humility from researchers and institutions. It takes time to build trust — and to repair it where it has been broken. It requires funding structures that value relationships as much as publications. And it requires recognizing that strong science is most powerful when it is woven with Indigenous knowledge and complemented by lived  experience from communities, businesses and living rooms.

Lasting change does not come from data stored on a computer. It comes from people shaping the questions, using the answers and seeing themselves reflected in the work. It comes from science that shows up in neighborhoods, decisions and daily life. 

Earth Day reminds us that the question is not just “what do we know?” or “what’s at stake?” but “who is part of shaping what comes next?”

The views expressed in this op-ed are the author’s own.