BARRY LYNN does not waste time. Two days after being sacked from the New America Foundation, a think-tank where he had worked for 15 years, he stands calmly directing staffers in an immaculate grey suit in an office just around the corner from his old gig. The trouble began for Mr Lynn and his Open Markets team, a research outfit that advocated anti-monopoly regulations, after he published a statement praising the European Commission for levying a $2.7bn fine on Google—a big donor to the think-tank. Eric Schmidt, chairman of Google’s parent company, was upset. Susan Molinari, Google’s chief lobbyist, spoke to Anne-Marie Slaughter, New America’s president and chief executive.

What transpired next is disputed. A few hours after he published the offending statement, says Mr Lynn, he received a call from Ms Slaughter. In his telling, she said that Mr Schmidt and Google, which had donated more than $21m to the foundation, wanted to cut off all ties—and that Mr Schmidt wanted his name scrubbed from the think-tank’s website, and his name removed from its conference room, the “Eric Schmidt Ideas Lab”. Two days later, Mr Lynn was told that New America and Open Markets would be parting ways, and was given two months to leave. Ms Slaughter said she would not discuss private conversations with either Mr Lynn or Mr Schmidt, but said Google never threatened to pull funding. Google said the same.

What is certain is that the fight ended with Mr Lynn’s team leaving New America and a black eye for Ms Slaughter, who appears to have folded under pressure and fired a well-respected scholar. The scandal has morphed into an existential crisis for New America, a newcomer in the think-tank world that has nonetheless established itself as a heavyweight. But it is only the latest victim of a common ailment among think-tanks—overly cosy relationships with donors that, when revealed, damage institutional credibility.

A month ago, leaked e-mails showed that the UAE had arranged a secret $20m donation to the Middle East Institute, a respected think-tank, to counter “egregious misperceptions about the region”. Last year, an investigation by the New York Times found that the Brookings Institution, perhaps America’s most prestigious think-tank, had accepted large donations from Lennar Corporation, a home-building firm, and promoted the company’s projects. The Centre for American Progress, a left-leaning think-tank, kept a secret roster of corporate donors and advocated for some of their interests.

Much think-tank wonkery is treated as authoritative by journalists and regulators—the reaped rewards from decades of rigorous work. Companies and foreign governments recognise the advantages this brings over conventional lobbying, which few would mistake as independent and impartial. Laundering lobbying through a think-tank, which offers tax advantages and less onerous disclosure requirements, can seem attractive.

Some think-tanks host sister lobbying organisations, which present their own risks. Witness the sad decline of the Heritage Foundation, once a conservative thought juggernaut and now hard to distinguish from a campaign group. Other thinkers juggle jobs, collecting cash from industries they write about. The Peterson Institute, a prominent economic-policy think-tank, fired three researchers for such conflicts of interest. With enough such stories, the entire enterprise starts to seem suspect—no good thing when dispassionate analysis is already dismissed as elitist.

Such tensions may reflect a fundamental flaw. Unlike other institutions designed to promote free inquiry, such as universities or some publications, think-tanks do not enjoy large endowments, researcher tenure or subscription revenue to insulate thinkers from paymasters. And thinking costs a lot. In its latest tax filing, Brookings reported spending more than $100m in a year. Some big patrons might clumsily seek to influence research directly, and must be politely rebuffed by think-tank bosses. Some take a more subtle approach. “When the king expresses displeasure, everyone knows how to interpret it,” says Zephyr Teachout, a law professor and fellow at the Open Markets programme.

This is the mess in which Ms Slaughter, a respected scholar in her own right, finds herself. Despite her insistence that the sacking had nothing to do with Mr Lynn’s work but was instead forced by his lack of collegiality, the weight of the evidence appears to be on Mr Lynn’s side. E-mails she said had been taken out of context did not, when made public, offer much exculpatory evidence. After initially casting the story about Mr Lynn’s firing as “false”, she has said she regretted that choice of words. To assuage her critics, who say that she has now tainted the work of all of New America’s scholars, the ultimate penalty may be more than contrition.