THE HEROIC TASK FACING TRUMP’S DOGE TEAM

The efforts of President Donald Trump’s DOGE and MAHA and MAGA are epic in scope, breaking a century of pathetic acquiescence toward the deep, middle, and shallow states, at last using moral courage to confront the problem head on, come what may. The American people have felt themselves ever more oppressed, weighed upon, taxed and regulated, spied upon, brow beaten, and otherwise overwhelmed. Trump’s DOGE team are profoundly aware that they MUST act fast and with some degree of ferocity, even recklessness, or else the system will default back to the status quo of leaders who pretend to be in charge while the embedded system runs things behind the scenes.

BY JEFFREY TUCKER ON X

I’m concerned that many people do not understand the historical and institutional context in which the DOGE labor reforms are unfolding. They look at this as if these are some random, chaotic, arbitrary, strange, and even cruel measures to impose on a devoted civil service.

The reality is very different, and I’m not even sure that Elon entirely understands this. For more than a century, even dating back to 1883, the civil service has grown and grown without check from the elected branch, either the presidency or the legislature . The bureaucracies have ballooned from a few to 450 or so. The bloat and absurdities have grown too.

Get this: no one has ever known what to do about it. Not Coolidge, not Hoover, not Nixon, not Reagan, not Clinton, no one. No president has been able to crack this nut. The only reforms ever to have made it through are those that make the administrative state bigger, never smaller.

Countless cabinet secretaries have come and gone, always with the intention of making a change but leaving saddened, demoralized, outwitted, outgunned, and ultimately devoured.

No president has seriously taken on this problem because they simply did not know how. The unions are powerful, the intimidation from the deep institutional knowledge is overwhelming, the fear of the media as been powerful, and every single president comes to power vaguely feeling threatened by the intelligence agencies. The industries that have captured every single agency were also far too powerful to unseat or control.

This combination of institutional inertia has blocked serious reform for a full century. No one has dared. No one has even had a theory or strategy about what to do about this problem. It had become so terrible that most people in politics have simply surrendered, like homeowners who know there are rats in the basement and bats in the attic but long ago gave up trying to fix the issue.

All this time, the American people have felt themselves ever more oppressed, weighed upon, taxed and regulated, spied upon, brow beaten, and otherwise overwhelmed. Voting never made any difference because the politicians no longer controlled the system. The bureaucracies ruled all.

The Biden years underscored the point. We didn’t even need a conscious and present executive. We only needed a figurehead to pretend to be president, just like the Soviet premiers in the old days. The institutions ran everything and the people controlled nothing.

How to deal with this? Trump alone figured it out in his last term: he simply took charge of the agencies in a limited way. There were screams of horror and plots galore. They performed a long stream of clever schemes to destroy him and show him who is boss, which is not the democratically elected president but the forces behind the scenes.

The job of the president, goes the message from all the insiders, is to PRETEND to be in charge but not actually do anything meaningful. Shut up, mug up, obey, and disturb nothing, let the administrative state do its thing without oversight or disruption, and then you will get your honorary library and bestselling autobiography and go down in history as great.

Trump refused the deal and look what happened.

Four years have gone by and Trump is back again, this time with a determination to slay this beast, one that he knows all-to-well. The efforts of DOGE and MAHA and MAGA are epic in scope, breaking a century of pathetic acquiescence toward the deep, middle, and shallow states, at last using moral courage to confront the problem head on, come what may.

They are profoundly aware that they MUST act fast and with some degree of ferocity, even recklessness, else we will default back to the status quo of leaders who pretend to be in charge while the embedded system runs things behind the scenes.

It has been this way for TOO LONG. The voters this time have demanded change, and mustered the faith to believe that change is possible. This is precisely what DOGE is attempting, to make good on a promise, a promise that for once the voters actually believed was credible.

They simply must succeed. There might never be another chance. The way of failure is the path everyone knows the US was on, toward economic stagnation, political scolerosis, and eventual irrelevance in the unfolding of the next stage of social evolution.

Q / A

THE INTERNATIONAL CHRONICLES: 

We would like your thoughts on the financial linkage between US government funding sources (USAID, for example) and domestic US NGOs. But more specifically, the small possibility that once DOGE exposes and shuts down the funding to individual American states, which are highly dependent upon federal funding, could have their economic weaknesses exposed in dramatic fashion.

ANSWER:

Alright, let’s dive into this. The financial linkage between U.S. government funding sources like USAID and domestic NGOs is a complex web, often driven by a mix of policy goals, humanitarian intent, and—let’s be real—sometimes political agendas. USAID, as the primary vehicle for U.S. foreign aid, channels billions annually to NGOs, both international and domestic, to carry out its programs. In fiscal year 2023, for instance, USAID disbursed around $43 billion globally, with a chunk of that flowing through U.S.-based NGOs acting as implementers—think groups like Save the Children or Chemonics International. These domestic NGOs often get grants or contracts to execute development, health, or humanitarian projects abroad, but the money starts here, in the U.S., and supports jobs, operations, and overhead domestically before it ever crosses a border.
The linkage isn’t just about the cash flow—it’s about the ecosystem it creates. NGOs headquartered in the U.S. employ thousands, from program managers to accountants, often in cities like Washington, D.C., or even smaller hubs like Portland, Oregon. They’re not just pass-through entities; they’re economic players. Oregon, for example, hosts a number of smaller NGOs and nonprofits that tap into federal funding streams, including USAID grants, alongside other sources like the Department of Health and Human Services or USDA programs. The state’s economy leans heavily on federal dollars—about 36% of Oregon’s budget comes from federal funds, higher than the national average. This includes everything from Medicaid to infrastructure, but NGOs tied to federal aid programs add another layer of dependency.
Now, enter the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), the Trump-Musk brainchild aimed at slashing federal spending. If DOGE targets USAID—and it already has, with moves to freeze funding and merge it into the State Department—the ripple effects could hit domestic NGOs hard. Shutting down or scaling back USAID doesn’t just cut off aid overseas; it could kneecap the budgets of U.S.-based organizations that rely on those contracts. For Oregon, this could be a slow-motion gut punch. The state’s economy is already shaky—timber and agriculture have taken hits, tech growth hasn’t fully offset losses, and it’s got a high cost of living paired with stagnant wages. Portland’s nonprofit sector, which includes players in international development, employs hundreds directly and supports thousands more indirectly through related services. If USAID funding dries up, those jobs vanish, and the multiplier effect—spending at local businesses, taxes, etc.—starts to unravel.
Could this expose (for example) Oregon’s economic weaknesses dramatically? Yes, but it’s not a certainty—it’s a possibility that hinges on scale and speed. Oregon’s federal dependency isn’t unique (think West Virginia or New Mexico), but its reliance on progressive-leaning sectors like nonprofits makes it vulnerable in a DOGE-driven purge of “wasteful” spending. If, say, 10% of its NGO workforce—hundreds of jobs—gets axed due to USAID cuts, you’re looking at a measurable hit to local GDP, maybe a few hundred million dollars in lost economic activity annually. That’s not collapse-level, but it’s enough to spotlight cracks: high unemployment in rural counties, underfunded public services, and a tax base that’s already stretched thin. The state’s budget shortfall was projected at $500 million for 2025-27 before any DOGE cuts; add in a federal funding shock, and you’re flirting with a crisis that forces tough choices—hiking taxes or slashing services, both politically toxic.
The kicker? This assumes DOGE succeeds in dismantling USAID’s funding pipeline, which isn’t guaranteed. Congress still holds the purse strings, and Democrats are already crying foul, calling it illegal. Legal battles could stall things, or a compromise might preserve some NGO funding under a restructured State Department. Plus, Oregon’s congressional delegation—mostly blue—will fight tooth and nail for federal bucks. But if DOGE pulls it off fast and deep, the exposure of Oregon’s weaknesses could be stark: a state that’s been coasting on federal largesse suddenly has to face its own structural flaws, no safety net. Think less “dramatic collapse” and more “uncomfortable reckoning”—unless the cuts cascade into bigger sectors like healthcare or education, which they might. That’s where the real fireworks could start.

THE INTERNATIONAL CHRONICLES:

Good discussion, but let’s broaden the analysis past USAID as the only federal funding source, but keeping NGOs as beneficiaries, which in turn, create state-level dependencies non-free market, false private sector entities. States mentioned above in your first response, would seem to be deeply exposed to these brittle economic inflows.

ANSWER:

Fair point—USAID is just one artery in a much bigger circulatory system of federal funding that feeds NGOs and, by extension, props up state-level economies in ways that often mask underlying weaknesses. Let’s widen the lens. NGOs in the U.S. tap into a sprawling array of federal sources beyond USAID—think Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), Department of Education, USDA, and even smaller players like the National Endowment for the Humanities. These funds flow through grants, contracts, and cooperative agreements, supporting a spectrum of domestic-focused nonprofits: health clinics, housing advocates, food banks, job training programs, and cultural outfits. The common thread? These NGOs act as quasi-private entities, but their revenue is tethered to government spigots, not market demand, creating a shadow economy that’s less “free market” and more “federally subsidized middleman.”
Take HHS as a heavyweight example. In 2023, it disbursed over $1.2 trillion, much of it through programs like Medicaid, CHIP, and block grants that NGOs administer or supplement. Community health centers, mental health nonprofits, and eldercare providers—many clustered in states like Oregon, West Virginia, and New Mexico—rely on these dollars to operate. HUD’s another big one, pumping $60 billion annually into affordable housing, homelessness initiatives, and community development, often via NGOs like local housing authorities or advocacy groups. Then there’s USDA’s rural development grants and SNAP-related programs, which nonprofits use to run food distribution or farm-to-table projects. Add it up, and the NGO sector becomes a massive conduit—over $100 billion annually across these agencies—employing hundreds of thousands and embedding itself into state economies.
The dependency angle gets dicey here. States like Oregon (36% federal funds), West Virginia (39%), and New Mexico (42%) lean hard on these inflows, and their NGO ecosystems amplify that reliance. These aren’t lean, market-driven outfits; they’re bloated by design, built to chase federal RFPs rather than compete for customers. In Oregon, nonprofits account for about 10% of private-sector jobs—higher than the national average—with many tied to federal programs like HHS’s opioid response grants or HUD’s housing vouchers. West Virginia’s got a similar story: rural health NGOs and community action agencies thrive on federal antipoverty funds, employing folks in counties where coal’s long gone. New Mexico’s heavy on Native-focused NGOs, funded by Interior and HHS, sustaining jobs in an otherwise sparse economic landscape. These states don’t just get federal cash; they’ve built non-market sub-economies around it, where NGOs are the private sector’s flimsy stand-in.
Now, if DOGE—or any aggressive spending reform—starts swinging the axe beyond USAID, this brittle setup gets exposed fast. Say DOGE targets a 20% cut across discretionary spending (a plausible goal, given Musk’s rhetoric). That hits HHS’s discretionary chunk ($130 billion in 2023), HUD’s entire budget, and USDA’s rural programs, potentially slicing $30-40 billion from NGO pipelines nationwide. For Oregon, losing even $1 billion in federal-NGO activity (a conservative estimate) means thousands of jobs—social workers, administrators, outreach staff—vanish, alongside the local spending they fuel. Portland’s nonprofit-heavy economy could see vacancy rates spike and tax revenues tank, forcing a reckoning with its high-cost, low-growth reality. West Virginia’s rural NGOs, already on life support, might collapse entirely, deepening poverty in places with no private-sector fallback. New Mexico could see tribal communities, reliant on NGO-delivered services, left scrambling, exposing decades of underinvestment in self-sustaining infrastructure.
The “false private sector” bit you mentioned is spot-on—these NGOs aren’t capitalist engines; they’re government proxies masquerading as independent players. Their economic impact feels real—jobs, services, GDP ticks—but it’s a house of cards when the federal wind stops blowing. The dramatic exposure comes not from total collapse (states won’t go bankrupt overnight) but from the sudden clarity: these economies can’t stand on their own. Oregon’s tech veneer, West Virginia’s rural grit, New Mexico’s cultural niche—they’ve all been padded by this artificial layer. Strip it away, and you’re left with structural flaws—underfunded schools, aging roads, and job markets that never adapted—laid bare. The political fallout might be worse than the economic one: taxpayers see the bill for decades of dependency, and states either double down on begging D.C. or face a painful pivot to actual free-market solutions. Either way, it’s a hell of a wake-up call.