George Washington died at the age of 67 not knowing that dinosaurs ever existed. 

In 1799, our country’s first president was suffering from a sore throat, likely the result of a simple bacterial infection. Washington’s doctors selected a treatment that we now know contributed to his death: bloodletting. 

As the semiquincentennial of our country arrives, it is worth considering how far we’ve come, even if we have a long way to go. And examining our history not through the lens of politics or wars but rather through science offers a universal way to celebrate our achievements. Reflecting on all we’ve learned and all we have yet to learn, let’s forge ahead into a better future by supporting science and scientists who are advancing our ability to protect and enhance our lives. 

But first, back to George Washington, who was also treated in his final day alive with mercury chloride, an emetic, an enema and a paste of Spanish flies applied to his throat. Approaching death, he asked that he not be buried within the first 72 hours, just in case he wasn’t actually dead, which was a harder thing to ascertain then. If he looked to the stars before he died, he would never have known that anything existed beyond the Milky Way. Scientists were only just starting to consider that the Earth was millions instead of thousands of years old. There was no scientific knowledge of dinosaurs, no concept of extinction. 

We’ve come a long way, to say the least, and the way we see the world around us, indeed the universe, continues to evolve. We’ve had life-changing breakthroughs, accelerating through the decades, especially after World War II and the ascension of the “endless frontier” in American scientific investment. Many people continue to hold tight to the conceptual vision of an America that embraces science, technology and engineering, and leads the world. It’s the America that developed the polio vaccine, defeated fascism in Europe, ended the Cold War, discovered the double helix and landed on the moon.

Today, science and technology seem to move faster than ever before, in ways that astonish us, challenge us and even, quite rightfully, frighten us. From the depths of the dark ocean to the farthest reaches of space, we are finding connections and resonance across disciplines. We’re using powerful tools, including advanced computation, optics, robotics and rocketry to exponentially expand the reach of our explorations. These revolutionary technologies signal a massive change in human potential to understand our place on Earth and in the universe, and to observe how life is deeply interconnected. The more we look, the more we see, the more we know, the better we do. That’s why our investment in science matters. 

Unfortunately, in addition to the dramatic decrease of public funding for basic research, university labs and Earth-monitoring systems in space and at sea, there has been an alarming rise in public distrust of science, as well as a perhaps legitimate suspicion of fast-moving information and intelligence systems, proffered by a handful of powerful companies. 

Thankfully, there is a distinct role for philanthropy to play in this complicated time. First, we need to protect and strengthen our institutions by deliberately funding strategies designed for this moment. These include preserving endangered datasets like Earth observation records going back decades, and funding university labs engaged in critically important biological, chemical, atmospheric, public health, ocean and other research. Philanthropy can also support computer and social scientists working to keep AI systems accountable, ethical and transparent—the only way they can ever offer social good. 

Second, philanthropy can accept and expand its role as a risk taker. We know philanthropy cannot replace the kind of large scale, long term government spending over decades that helped us develop the internet, for example. But what we can do is use philanthropic capital to take the risks government and industry almost never do. Early bets are high risk by definition, but we can balance this by publicly sharing findings, including failures, to accelerate the pace of scientific understanding.  

Third, philanthropy can think globally. Science is inherently global—ideas travel swiftly—and those connections don’t rely entirely on any single government or university. We can focus on constructing a robust new scaffolding, built on international cooperation and collaboration, to work toward long-term resilience. 

Indeed, in spite of our borders, boundaries and geopolitical fights, we can see—most recently thanks to the Artemis II astronauts—that the Earth is one unique and beautiful planet. We humans tend to assume nature’s resilience, but often fail to recognize its fragility, and how all life on Earth depends on a mere membrane of ocean water. 

To celebrate 250 years of scientific achievement in America is to recognize so many pioneers and researchers with a tireless devotion to discovery. It is also to understand the threshold where we stand today: empowered by new technologies, but needing to be grounded in our common humanity, and deeply connected to every other living thing. 

The opinions expressed in Fortune.com commentary pieces are solely the views of their authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and beliefs of Fortune.

Wendy Schmidt is a philanthropist and co-founder of Schmidt Sciences, Schmidt Ocean Institute and the Schmidt Family Foundation, which she leads as president.