The announcements of Donald Trump’s early picks for his administration have been like the limbo: The bar keeps dropping and the dance keeps going.
One of the first nominees was Marco Rubio for secretary of state; the Floridian holds some questionable views but is at least a second-term senator and member of the foreign relations committee, and is not the nihilist troll Ric Grenell. Then there was Representative Michael Waltz for national security adviser; he has no experience running anything like the National Security Council but he does have expertise in national security. Former Representative Lee Zeldin for EPA? The bar kept sinking, but hey, he has worked in government and isn’t a current oil company executive.
By yesterday afternoon, though, the bar was hitting amazing new lows. Former Director of National Intelligence John Ratcliffe was one of the least-qualified appointees in the first Trump regime; he might be one of the more experienced this time around, though Trump’s statement putting him forward for CIA director, which cited not his resume but his sycophancy, was not reassuring. For the Department of Homeland Security, one of the largest and most complicated parts of the federal government, Trump selected Kristi Noem, a small businesswoman and governor of a lightly populated state—but a diehard MAGA loyalist. The low point, so far, was reached when the president-elect announced Pete Hegseth for secretary of defense. Hegseth is a National Guard veteran who has lambasted the military for being “woke” and lobbied for pardons for convicted war criminals. He once bragged that he hadn’t washed his hands in 10 years, but he still hawks soap shaped like grenades. His major qualifications to run one of the most complicated bureaucracies in human history are that he looks the part and Trump has seen him a lot on Fox News.
[Tom Nichols: The loyalists are collecting their rewards in Trump’s cabinet]
Perhaps the bar cannot get lower from there—at least not in terms of positions of immense consequence with real power to do a lot of damage in the world. But another appointment announced yesterday was in a sense even more ridiculous: Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy to head a Department of Government Efficiency. That’s DOGE for short. Get it? Such efficient. Very slash. Wow. Welcome to the era of government by meme.
Memes are slippery, neither serious nor quite joking. Try to pin them down and they slide through your fingers. DOGE, like doge, is no different. Why is this thing called a department when only Congress has the power to stand up a new body by that name? Is it because Trump doesn’t know or because he doesn’t care? Why does a government-efficiency panel have two chairs? Maybe it’s a joke. Who can tell? Is DOGE a clever way to sideline two annoying loudmouths who can’t or won’t get through the Senate confirmation process, or could it radically reshape the federal government? Like the meme says, why not both? The whole thing is vaporware, concocted by three people—Musk, Ramaswamy, and Trump—who are all terminally online.
“Waste, fraud, and abuse” is something of a meme itself—an idea that gets repeated and used in many different formats, but offers more of a symbolic meaning and cultural connotation than specific denotation. Like most memes, this one is neither serious nor joking. Who could possibly want waste, fraud, or abuse of taxpayer money? The problem, as Eric Schnurer has explained in The Atlantic, is that there simply isn’t as much of it as people think. The way to radically cut government spending is to slash whole categories of things. (As a contractor, it must be noted, Musk is a huge beneficiary of government largesse.)
[Read: Trump’s ‘deep state’ revenge]
Trump has not provided a great deal of detail about how the DOGE would work, though Musk has, naturally, already produced a dank meme. Ironically, we don’t know how DOGE will work or how it will be funded. Trump says it will “provide advice and guidance from outside of Government” to the White House and Office of Management and Budget, making recommendations no later than the nation’s semiquincentennial on July 4, 2026.
In the absence of real info, Musk’s takeover of Twitter is probably a pretty good model for understanding how this might function. When Musk bought the social-media network, he made many promises. He said he’d eliminate bots, improve the user base, fine-tune the business, and reduce political interference, so that Twitter could function as “a common digital town square.” Judged by those metrics, the takeover has been a failure. The service is awash in bots. Users and advertisers have fled. Many technical functions have degraded. Rather than becoming a more politically neutral venue, it’s become a playground for the hard right, with Musk using it to spread conspiracy theories and aid Trump. He has given it a slick rebrand as X and slashed the workforce.
We can expect much the same from DOGE. Will it successfully achieve the stated policy goal of reconfiguring the federal workforce to reduce waste and fraud and improve provision of services? Almost certainly not. Will it work to drive out dedicated employees? Probably. The surest bet is that it will be a highly effective vehicle for furthering Musk and Trump’s political agenda. Such winning. Very chaos. Much bleak.
theatlantic.com