The broken plates are not paid for right away. They are paid for later.
As an Ebola outbreak driven by the untreatable Bundibugyo variant spreads through Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo, infectious disease specialist Dr. Claudia Cortés offers a warning that extends far beyond the immediate crisis: the consequences of defunding science are not felt when the cuts are made, but when the next emergency arrives and the laboratories are dark. The closure of the CDC's primary Ebola research facility—a casualty of budget reductions following the United States' withdrawal from the World Health Organization—stands as a quiet monument to a recurring human failure: dismantling the infrastructure of foresight in times of calm, only to mourn its absence in times of crisis.
- A new Ebola outbreak is spreading through Uganda and the DRC with no vaccines and no treatments available for the Bundibugyo variant responsible.
- The CDC's primary Ebola laboratory has been shuttered following budget cuts, eliminating critical research capacity precisely when it is most needed.
- Dr. Cortés warns that the damage from science funding cuts is invisible at first—labs close quietly, researchers emigrate, and institutional knowledge dissolves before anyone sounds the alarm.
- Rebuilding dismantled scientific infrastructure is slow, expensive, and uncertain; the expertise and networks that walk out the door do not return on demand.
- While Ebola's requirement for direct physical contact limits its pandemic potential compared to airborne viruses like COVID-19, the absence of treatment options makes each outbreak a preventable tragedy.
In a studio conversation with ADN Radio, Dr. Claudia Cortés—who leads the infectious disease unit at Clínica Santa María and teaches at the University of Chile—laid out a case both urgent and sobering. The world is facing a new Ebola outbreak in Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo, driven by the Bundibugyo variant. Unlike the Zaire strain that prompted earlier vaccine development, Bundibugyo has no vaccine and no treatment. The research simply was not done, and the funding to do it was never secured—or was cut away.
Cortés pointed to a telling example: the CDC's main Ebola laboratory in the United States has recently closed, a consequence of budget reductions tied to America's exit from the World Health Organization. That capacity, once gone, cannot be switched back on. Rebuilding a laboratory means reconstructing not just equipment, but expertise, institutional memory, and scientific networks—a process that takes years and costs far more than the original investment.
The deeper argument she made was about timing. The harm from defunding science does not arrive with the budget announcement. It arrives later, when a new pathogen emerges and the systems that might have contained it no longer exist. Researchers who left for better-funded institutions abroad do not automatically return. The window to prepare closes without fanfare.
Cortés did offer measured reassurance on one point: Ebola spreads only through direct contact with bodily fluids, not through the air, which limits its potential to become a global catastrophe on the scale of COVID-19. But that distinction, she suggested, makes the lack of treatment options more troubling, not less—because every death in an outbreak without remedies is a cost that sustained investment might have prevented.
Dr. Claudia Cortés sat across from Andrea Obaid in the studio of Tu Nuevo ADN and made a case that sounded almost obvious once she said it aloud: when governments cut funding for science, people die—just not right away.
Cortés, who heads the infectious disease unit at Clínica Santa María and teaches at the University of Chile, was responding to the latest international health alert: a new outbreak of Ebola spreading through Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo. The variant driving this outbreak is called Bundibugyo, and it presents a particular problem. Unlike the Zaire strain that circulated in previous years, there are no vaccines for Bundibugyo yet. There are no treatments. The research to develop them has not been done, and part of the reason is that the money to do it was never there—or was taken away.
She pointed to a concrete example: the CDC's primary Ebola laboratory in the United States had recently closed. The closure came after budget cuts that followed America's withdrawal from the World Health Organization. Now, as the world faces an active emergency, that lab capacity is gone. Rebuilding it would be slow and difficult. The timing could not be worse.
Cortés explained that the damage from defunding science is not immediate. "The broken plates are not paid for right away," she said. "They are paid for later, when a new disease appears, a new pathology, a new outbreak." When a country starves its scientific institutions, laboratories shut down. Researchers leave for other countries. The institutional knowledge walks out the door. Reconstructing that capacity—the equipment, the expertise, the networks—is enormously complex. By the time you realize you need it, you are already behind.
Ebola itself is a virus that jumps from animals to humans, primarily from primates. Once it enters the human population, it spreads only through direct contact with the bodily fluids of an infected person: blood, urine, semen, vomit, secretions. The incubation period is short—between five and fourteen days—and then the disease announces itself with a hemorrhagic fever that attacks multiple organ systems, destroys the body's ability to clot blood, and causes bleeding that is often fatal.
When asked whether Ebola posed the same pandemic risk as COVID-19, Cortés offered some reassurance. The coronavirus spreads through the air. Ebola does not. It requires close physical contact to transmit. That limits its potential to become a global catastrophe on the scale of the pandemic that reshaped the world. But that limitation does not make the current outbreak less urgent. It makes the absence of treatment options more stark.
The larger argument Cortés was making transcended the immediate crisis. Science funding is not a luxury. It is not something that can be cut when budgets tighten and restored later. Research institutions, once dismantled, take years to rebuild. Researchers who leave do not always come back. The window of opportunity to prepare for the next disease, the next variant, the next outbreak, closes quietly and does not reopen on demand. The cost of that closure, she said, is measured in lives.
Citas Notables
Not everything generates immediate returns, but research in science and health saves lives.— Dr. Claudia Cortés
When a country defunds science, laboratories dismantle and researchers emigrate. Rebuilding that capacity is extremely difficult. These cuts are ultimately paid for with lives.— Dr. Claudia Cortés
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
When you say the broken plates get paid for later, what does that actually look like? Who pays?
The people who get sick when there's no treatment ready. The healthcare workers who have no tools to fight back. The countries that have to scramble to respond to something they could have been preparing for all along.
But couldn't a government just restart the research quickly if there's a crisis?
That's the trap. You can't rebuild a laboratory overnight. You need the equipment, the trained people, the institutional memory. If your researchers have emigrated to find funding elsewhere, they're not coming back in weeks. And the virus doesn't wait.
So the Bundibugyo variant—is it more dangerous than previous Ebola strains?
Not necessarily more dangerous in how it spreads or how fast it kills. The danger is that we have nothing to fight it with. We have vaccines and treatments for other variants. For this one, we're starting from zero.
Why would the U.S. close its main Ebola lab right now?
Budget cuts tied to the WHO withdrawal. It wasn't a decision made in response to the current outbreak—it happened before anyone knew this variant would emerge. That's the whole problem. You defund in peacetime and pay in crisis.
Is there any chance this becomes a global pandemic like COVID?
Ebola requires direct contact with bodily fluids. It doesn't travel through the air. So no—it won't spread the way the coronavirus did. But that doesn't mean we should be calm. It means we should have been ready.