At its core, research is the disciplined pursuit of a single question: “What if?” 

What if measuring space dust could tell us something about our place in the cosmos?

What if we could grow whole human organs from just a few cells?

What if we could transform plastic into fertilizer?

These are the kinds of questions driving work within and among CU Boulder’s 12 research institutes and more than 75 research centers, employing 3,000 researchers, students and staff whose fields span environmental studies to cognitive science. In 2024, their work contributed to more than $742 million in research support, including nearly $500 million in federal funding.

When paired with time, attention, resources and a serious tolerance for failure, these seeds of curiosity can develop into something revolutionary, sometimes well beyond their original vision. And while some of the finer points may be hard to grasp, the reach of this research is not abstract — it can be traced, quite literally, through the layers of our world. It moves inward, reshaping the delicate architecture of the human body. It arcs out into space, collecting data from distant planets. It extends downward, into the soil and water systems that sustain our ecosystem.

To capture even a hint of the scope of research taking place at CU Boulder, we explore three different research projects that showcase a unique dimension of impact, both on campus and beyond.

Exploring New Horizons

When it comes to measuring the reach of research, the vision behind the New Horizons mission has always been far-flung.

Launched in 2006, the New Horizons spacecraft spent nine years hurtling through the darkest reaches of our solar system to capture the first-ever recorded glimpse of Pluto and its moons up close.

“The expectation was that it was going to be a boring chunk of dark ice,” said Mihály Horányi, physics professor and LASP scientist. “But we were in for a big surprise. It’s very active. It has flat regions, mountain regions and floating icebergs...all kinds of unexpected things.”

But for New Horizons, Pluto was just the beginning. The spacecraft pressed deeper into space. In 2019, the Hubble Space Telescope onboard captured what would become the most distant and primitive object yet to be explored by a spacecraft: a reddish, oddly snowman-shaped object called Arrokoth. Nothing like it has been found anywhere else in the solar system.

And it’s still going. As of October 2024, New Horizons passed 60 times as far from the Sun as Earth is — twice as far out as Pluto was in 2015.

But the reach of New Horizons takes on another dimension than just physical distance. Onboard the spacecraft is nestled a device called the Student Dust Counter (SDC), the first NASA science instrument ever designed, built, tested and operated almost entirely by students. Its impact has been both interstellar and interpersonal.

“At the time, the idea was unconventional,” explained Horányi, who has served as the instrument’s principal investigator for more than two decades.

Approval required long rounds of advocacy up and down NASA’s decision-making chain. The condition? Students would be held to the same rigorous standards as the professionals.

From the outset, students at CU rose to the challenge. In 2002, about 20 students (both undergrad and graduate) worked to design, engineer and build every piece of the dust counter, from building to testing to calibration.

When the time came for delivery and testing, the SDC was the first instrument completed and delivered to New Horizons. It underwent the same demanding NASA design reviews as veteran instrument teams.

“Sometimes,” recalled Horányi, “the students performed better than the professionals.”

Today, the spacecraft is over 60 astronomical units from the Sun — more than 5.5 billion miles away — making SDC the farthest-operating dust detector in history. And it is still operated by students.

The measurements have been full of surprises. Dust densities in the outer solar system turned out to be higher than expected, prompting new debates about the structure and extent of the Kuiper Belt, which contains Pluto, other dwarf planets and comets. SDC data now informs studies on whether there’s a “second belt” beyond Pluto, how far the Kuiper Belt extends, and how our solar system’s dust environment compares to those around other stars.

And while the science is groundbreaking, Horányi is just as proud of the human impact.

More than 30 students have served as SDC team members since its inception. Many went on to prestigious graduate programs and major research institutions. Others have followed entirely different paths, including one electrical engineer who became a Buddhist priest.

“They all did something important,” Horányi said. “Something bigger than getting an A in a class.”

The current lead, Alex Doner (Physics’26), will soon hand the reins to Blair Schultz (Physics’28), who will guide the mission’s next phase. The instrument will likely operate into the early 2050s, potentially detecting the edge of the Sun’s influence — the heliosphere — and the transition to true interstellar space.

Engineering Organoids

Meanwhile, across campus at CU’s BioFrontiers Institute, scientists are working to explore and traverse the limits of a different kind of landscape: the inner workings of the human body. The questions they’re asking sound like science fiction, but have immediate and vital application — what if we could reliably make miniature, lab-grown versions of human organs? The results could change the medical world as we know it, offering new ways to test drugs, study disease and someday possibly replace failing organs.

“There’s been a lot of excitement in the past few years about being able to take a patient’s stem cells and grow them into a miniature version of one of its tissues or organs,” said Kristi Anseth (PhDChemEngr’14), a CU Boulder professor of chemical and biological engineering who is leading the organoid research. “Making complex mimics of organs would open doors for screening new types of drugs or trying to better understand the evolution of diseases, like cancer.”

One of the trickiest parts of growing organoids is their three-dimensional shape — they tend to grow unpredictably.

“It is a stochastic, or random, process,” said Anseth. “We were talking to clinicians and biologists who were growing these organoids, but each looked a little different, and these differences can lead to different behavior or function.”

This “snowflake problem” has been a major roadblock against some of the most exciting possibilities of organoid research — transplants, for example, wouldn’t work if the organ couldn’t be reliably grown to fit the patient.

Anseth’s team, in collaboration with stem cell biologist professor Peter Dempsey at the Anschutz Medical Campus, set out to make this random process into a predictable one, designing biomaterials — specifically, highly tunable hydrogels — that serve as scaffolds for these cells to grow in three dimensions.

“Being engineers, we thought, ‘Well, it’s going to be really important for the usefulness of these [organs] to make them the same way.’”

They started with the human intestine, where these hydrogel scaffolds successfully helped guide organoid growth into precise, reproducible sizes and shapes. That consistency means researchers can run large-scale, apples-to-apples experiments in a way that’s reliable enough for both science and medicine.

“We’re taking something that’s been unpredictable and making it precise, scalable and useful,” said Anseth. “You could use it to screen for new ways to deliver drugs. Wouldn’t it be great if you could take more drugs orally? Or get diagnosed at an earlier age?”

And while the team has made exciting progress, the crux of this work is still on the horizon. The ultimate goal of creating full-size replacement organs from organoids is likely years away.

“Now, we’re thinking of all the ‘what if’s,’” said Anseth. “It’s time to start solving the more complicated problems.”

For now, Anseth’s “mini-intestines” are helping illuminate a path toward more efficient drug testing and more accurate disease models. But she sees this as just the beginning.

“We already have ways to repair cartilage, to heal bones faster — things that didn’t exist a decade ago,” she says. “Now, the next direction is targeting complex diseases that happen in our hearts, our brains, our livers. That’s the promise of organoids...We’ll find interventions that can both improve and save lives.”

Plastics to Fertilizer

At CU’s interdisciplinary ATLAS Institute, researcher and assistant professor Carson Bruns is proving that the insights gleaned from the tiniest of molecules can change the very ground beneath our feet.

At Bruns’ Laboratory for Emergent Nanomaterials, the building blocks get the spotlight. By examining and structuring materials at very small scales, the team designs what he calls “molecular machinery” — new materials that, when scaled up, have the potential to display novel properties and functions.

Currently, thanks to a Research & Innovation Seed Grant, the team is applying these methods to one of the most controversial materials of our time: plastics.

From grocery bags to medical packaging, petroleum-based plastics are woven into nearly every aspect of modern life. But their convenience comes at a staggering cost.

“I believe we’re in a plastics crisis,” said Bruns. “We need to shift to a new paradigm, and the more people working on solutions, the better.”

Bruns explained that microplastics show up everywhere, even in human tissue. Plus, most plastics, even the “greener” compostable ones, are carbon-based — which means that, upon breaking down, they release carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. Most also require specialized, high-temperature industrial composting facilities to break down properly. In Boulder, these shortcomings prompted the city’s main composting partner, A1 Organics, to stop accepting biodegradable plastics altogether.

“Our aim is to create plastics that can safely biodegrade — eliminating the microplastics problem — but without heavy CO2 emissions,” said Bruns.

True to nanoengineering form, the team is rethinking the entire process, starting with source materials.

“We’re looking at agricultural waste as a raw material source,” said Bruns. By using runoff from vegetable washing or ash from burned plant matter, these new and improved plastics would biodegrade into elements like nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium and sulfur that already have value in the soil, releasing minimal carbon dioxide. The solution is cost-efficient, to boot.

“We know how to make high-performance plastics, but they’re too expensive to scale,” said Bruns. “Our goal is to make eco-friendly plastics that are as strong, tough and flexible as petroleum plastics.”

This research is still in its early stages, and collaboration has been key. To test biodegradability and soil impact, Bruns partnered with ecology professor Merritt R. Turetsky, director of arctic security. This cross-disciplinary work — melding nanotechnology, materials science and environmental biology — has already yielded promising early results.

“I’m excited about the collaboration,” said Bruns. “I think this problem requires many perspectives. Nobody can solve it alone, so working together across fields is really energizing.”

The team’s goal for the 18-month grant period is to develop at least one material that not only holds up in everyday use, but also demonstrably fertilizes soil. If successful, the applications could range from packaging films and plastic bags to plates, utensils and even foams that mimic Styrofoam.

In the long term, Bruns envisions a circular system: after use, the plastic could enter a specialized recycling stream for processing into fertilizer — or, ideally, degrade naturally in a backyard compost heap. Either way, it would close the loop between creation and decomposition, consumption and renewal.

“It’s about finding a better ending for these materials,” he said. “If we can make something useful in life and beneficial in death, that’s a win for both people and the planet.”