How Elon Musk’s DOGE Broke the U.S. Federal Government: An Oral History From the Workers Who Lived It
By August, several months after Elon Musk ended his formal role in the federal government, the director of the Office of Personnel Management shared the first concrete public assessment of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)’s impact on the civil service. He told reporters that by the end of 2025, the federal workforce will likely shrink by roughly 300,000 people from its size at the start of the year. The vast majority of departures stem from exit incentives DOGE rolled out for federal workers, a cut equal to one out of every eight federal employees overall.
Or at least, that was the official narrative. In recent weeks, hundreds of the workers pushed out by DOGE have reportedly received offers to reinstate their roles.
The full extent of DOGE’s restructuring of the U.S. federal government remains unaccounted for. There is no evidence the initiative delivered meaningful cost savings or operational improvements, but the consequences of DOGE’s massive central database built to track and surveil immigrants are only starting to emerge. What’s more, Musk’s protégés and allied tech entrepreneurs still hold embedded roles across nearly every executive branch agency. That leaves dangerous, unresolved risks: private actors taking over core government functions, and the federal bureaucracy fully adopting Silicon Valley’s “move fast and break things” ethos that prioritizes speed over public good.
To build the most complete account to date of how the U.S. government arrived at this unprecedented moment, and what comes next, WIRED interviewed more than 200 current and former federal workers across dozens of agencies. Most sources asked to remain anonymous, citing fear of professional retaliation. They shared not just what has unfolded behind closed doors during this period of historic upheaval, but what it feels like to live through those changes firsthand. What follows is their account, in their own words, of what happened when the world’s most powerful politician handed the world’s richest man the keys to the world’s most complex government institution.
“I kept comparing it to a natural disaster,” one worker at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention told WIRED. “But it wasn’t natural. Just a stampede of wide-eyed, confused government employees moving files around and looking over their shoulders because they think maybe Elon was creeping behind them with a chain saw.”
Donald Trump launched DOGE within hours of his second inauguration on January 20, tasking the new body with “modernizing Federal technology and software to maximize governmental efficiency and productivity.” Within days, Musk’s close allies and their cohort of young, largely untested technologists began showing up at agencies ranging from the little-known General Services Administration (GSA) to the Office of Personnel Management, gaining unprecedented access to sensitive government systems and personal personnel records along the way. The DOGE team included young operatives like Edward “Big Balls” Coristine, Kyle Schutt, and Ethan Shaotran, all of whom went on to take roles across a swath of agencies, from the U.S. Department of Education to the Social Security Administration (SSA).
“I met Kyle and Ethan on January 23, and I very briefly bumped into Coristine before anyone was talking about him. I would describe them all as giddy, excited, curious, passionate, and super interested in learning about and jumping in on this new thing. I was super excited too at first.
“Then the next week it felt like everything shifted and suddenly they were no longer curious or asking questions or on an adventure and instead they were just frantically running around trying to do impossible shit with no context and no flexibility and no ability to push back.
“I thought maybe it would turn around. But it never did.”
—General Services Administration (GSA) worker
“The first meeting with DOGE—really the only meeting with DOGE, if I'm going to be honest—was … a virtual meeting that was 30 minutes long. In typical DOGE fashion, the government organization that we were promised unbelievable transparency on, they don't turn the cameras on, they don't tell you who they are, they don't tell you if anybody else is in the room, so you have no idea who you're talking to.”
—Colin O’Brien, former head of security at the United States Institute of Peace
“We saw them immediately. They acted like new hires but a bit furtive since they were actually instructed not to share their full names with us at first.”
—Technology Transformation Services worker
“My big aha moment came late, because for so long I was giving them the benefit of the doubt. These guys were young, and they had a job to do, and yes, they were doing it aggressively—but again, I assumed the best. But then Ethan Shaotran went on Fox News, on Jesse Watters. He just trash-talked us pretty bad, conflating things they’d found at other agencies, basically implying we were misappropriating grant money. It made my blood boil. Ethan had to know that wasn’t true. That was it for me—there is no good faith at all.”
—Federal worker
“The vibe they gave was ‘So, what is it that you do here?’ and ‘Why can’t AI do that?’”
—Technology Transformation Services worker
In the first weeks of the new administration, emails from DOGE began landing in federal workers’ inboxes—more often than not, straight into spam folders, as the unvetted external domain triggered government security filters.
“I logged on to find several emails tagged ‘External,’ because DOGE just brought in their own servers and plugged them into the network. Then there were several subsequent emails from different leaders saying things like, ‘Thank you for all the phishing reports, but the emails are real and need to be followed. But also please keep reporting things that look like phishing. Except from DOGE … but probably even then. And this is totally fine and normal.’”
—Contractor for the Veterans Administration
Among these messages was the now-infamous “Fork in the Road” email, which pressured workers to choose between loyal compliance or voluntary exit. The language of the email closely mirrored the memo Musk sent to Twitter employees just after his 2022 takeover of the platform. A follow-up message was even more condescending to career staff.
“It was truly so idiotic and looked like it was written by a disturbed child.”
—CDC employee
“We’re used to every little thing done by regulation, and now we’re just getting crazy emails … This is a 5-alarm fire. This is a constitutional crisis.”
—Department of Labor employee
“That response shocked me. We knew that this administration had little regard for professionals who choose to work for the federal government, but to state it so publicly, dripping with contempt, was truly unbelievable to me.”
—GSA employee
Federal employees who chose to stay were ordered back to in-office work, and many quickly found their workplaces growing increasingly hostile.
“A woman I did not know in the cubicle next to me broke down. She was literally wailing, inconsolable, because she could not get into a childcare facility she could afford on such short notice. She literally had to choose between her little child and working. Her explaining to her manager the way her child cried and begged Mommy to stay home broke me. Then, as if on cue, an email from a person whose account said they were the acting IRS commissioner arrived in our inboxes, reminding us that it was “Mental Health Awareness” month and that we can do such helpful things as “practicing gratitude” and breathing techniques to deal with stress. It also reminded us we can take time off to seek professional help … I never saw her again, and her cube is now empty.”
—Internal Revenue Service employee
“Because we are part of Homeland Security, there’s always an armed guard at FEMA facilities. That’s a very standard thing. But the guys we’re used to seeing are like the contracted-out, office patrol guys—they’re mall cops, to be polite about it. They sit at the desk and make sure you have ID, and that’s the extent of their policing. We have a pretty good relationship with our local guy at the front desk of our building. He’s a nice guy; he’ll walk around our office sometimes. We share our snacks with him.
“One day he comes in to walk the office, like he does occasionally, and a few minutes after he passes by, another officer walks through. This time, it’s somebody we’ve never seen before, and he’s like, kitted out. He’s dressed in all black from head to toe; he’s got body armor on. He’s wearing a tactical helmet. He’s got a big gun on him, like a rifle, not like a handgun in a side pouch. He did not have a visible name tag, which is not standard at all—everybody in a federal facility is required to identify themselves at all times, and he had no individual identifying markings. The only writing on his uniform was the big yellow text on his back that said HOMELAND SECURITY.
“He was walking through the office as slowly as he could. He would pause behind you and watch what you were doing for five to 20 seconds and then move on. His entire demeanor, it was very obvious he wanted us to see him, and he wanted to see us watching him. These are fucking office workers working on laptops. We’re doing spreadsheets and PowerPoints. Like, chill out, dude.
“My coworker went over [to the guard] and was like ‘Hey, welcome, can I help you with something, are we in danger? What’s the problem? The officer announces—not just to my coworker but to as many people as can hear him—‘No, I don’t want your help. I’m just here to patrol you and to desensitize you to my presence.’ Then he just keeps on walking. That’s the only thing he’s said to us. He’s been through a couple times now and never gives anyone the time of day—never smiles, never says good morning, just walks through, dresses us all down for a few minutes, and leaves.”
—FEMA employee
Workplaces also degraded in literal, basic ways: DOGE imposed a $1 spending limit on most government credit cards, with no exceptions for routine office necessities.
“The women’s restroom was out of toilet paper within a week or so of us coming back to the office. I brought this up to Facilities, like, ‘Hey, this is kind of a sanitation and dignity issue, can you hook us up with more toilet paper?’ They were like, ‘We’d love to, but we can’t purchase anything until they unfreeze the cards, and we don’t even know what the process is, because they have them sort of indefinitely frozen.’
“For five months we were instructed to bring in our own toilet paper. I literally kept two rolls at my desk. I wish I were joking.”
—FEMA employee
Musk and Trump quickly moved to fill agency leadership roles with loyal allies. At the Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), Trump installed Scott Turner, a former NFL cornerback.
“[Turner] has two primary sources of anecdotes I keep hearing: his time in the NFL—specifically that he was drafted in the last round—and his father’s time working as a shelf stocker at Safeway and how he is doing the same thing at HUD by ‘taking inventory and restocking the shelves.’ For a motivational speaker and pastor he is neither motivational nor inspirational.”
—HUD employee
Immigration was a central policy priority of Trump’s second term. While the administration made its harsh anti-immigrant stance crystal clear, it carved out a special exemption in a February executive order for white South African migrants—a cause close to Musk’s own heart as a white South African immigrant himself.
“This administration has made a complete mockery of the humanitarian side of immigration. I have interviewed parents who saw their children beheaded in front of them. I have interviewed children who saw their parents killed in front of them. I have interviewed women who have been sexually assaulted. I have interviewed children who have been sexually assaulted. I have interviewed teenagers who were beaten and threatened by their own family because they were part of the LGBTQI+ community. What has happened to these people in South Africa that warrants refugee status in the US? Nothing.”
—Department of Homeland Security employee
Musk’s core stated goal was downsizing the federal workforce to be as lean as possible, no matter the cost. Entire agencies were gutted as tens of thousands of workers faced mass reductions in force (RIFs). While many of these actions have been challenged in court, the Supreme Court recently ruled the Trump administration could move forward with plans for mass layoffs.
“The moment everything crystallized for me was the day they came for a respected career deputy. Someone who embodied integrity and competence. His ‘crime’? Having the guts to challenge DOGE’s reckless RIF plans. One afternoon, he returned from lunch to find security waiting at his desk. No explanation, no warning—just a quiet escort out of the building while stunned colleagues looked on. Years of dedicated service reduced to a public humiliation.”
—Department of Labor employee
“I knew what the powers that be were doing wasn't legal. So either they were incompetent and didn't know it was illegal, or they knew it was illegal and didn’t care. Which one is scarier?”
—CDC employee
“What stands out to me is how disorganized and unprofessional the GSA reduction in force was. Staff were instructed to return government IDs ASAP. We lost Google Drive access immediately, and the agency put resources about our RIF on there. We were blocked from sending emails to non-GSA addresses. Even trying to email career documents to your private email address became a huge issue.”
—GSA employee
“When the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau was first gutted, one person left their blazer in the office and was unable to get back into the building to get it. It was the only blazer they owned: They were broke, applying for jobs, and had nothing to wear to interviews because of this.”
—CFPB employee
On February 14, tens of thousands of federal workers lost their jobs in an event that surviving staff now call the “Valentine’s Day Massacre.” Other workers were told firing notices would arrive imminently, then waited days with no update.
“My fiancée and I had just come back from dinner. We’re getting ready to go to bed. I decide I’m just going to disconnect from social media and my email. I’m just going to turn it off … I saw I had an unread message. I was fired at 11, 11:30 pm. [My fiancée] looks at me, and she sees my demeanor change. [She says,] ‘That was the email, wasn't it?’”
—Fired Federal Aviation Administration aeronautical information specialist
“It was Valentine’s Day, and my partner planned a romantic dinner for us that I ate in a catatonic state, in my sweatpants, covered in tears.”
—CDC employee
On February 22, echoing his post-takeover demand for weekly updates from Twitter staff, Musk ordered every federal worker to send an email summarizing what they’d accomplished the previous week.
“It was so humiliating to have to prove, ostensibly to Elon Musk—someone not in my chain of command or even a government employee—what I was doing. Not only is it none of their business what I was up to (they are not my supervisor), but they wouldn’t even understand anything I put in there anyway since it’s far too technical. I put read receipts on my first submission, and after I hadn’t gotten pinged that it had been read after two subsequent submissions, I just stopped sending them. It made me so mad that not only are they passive-aggressively insinuating I’m doing nothing, but they’re wasting tons of federal workers’ time (and taxpayer money) doing this exercise, and they aren’t even opening the emails. Infuriating.”
—Department of Defense employee
“[Employees were responding with] emails in different languages … responding with the Constitution, and (for someone coming right back from maternity leave) responding with things such as: ‘breastfed a newborn for X number of hours, changed Y number of diapers with Z throughput, managed stakeholder input from my in-laws on best ways to burp a child.’”
—VA IT worker
“I actually laughed pretty hard [at Musk’s email]. It’s just so ridiculous … It’s either [that or] be mad 24/7 (which some of my compatriots have decided to do), and I just don’t have the energy anymore.”
—FAA air traffic controller
On March 14, 2025, Colin O’Brien, then head of security for the United States Institute of Peace (USIP), learned the agency’s entire board had purportedly been fired. DOGE associates, including one named Nate Cavanaugh, arrived at USIP’s Washington, DC, headquarters.
“The on-duty security lieutenant called me and said, ‘Hey, DOGE is here.’ The instructions we had given were that any visit by DOGE that was unscheduled, they were not to be permitted entry. If they had a scheduled appointment, absolutely, we’d have let them in. They stayed outside for a little bit less than 30 minutes and then left.”
Later, O’Brien got another call from the front security desk.
“They're like, ‘Hey, the FBI is here with DOGE.’ So we step outside. It was two FBI agents to our right and then four DOGE people to the left, sort of standing in a semicircle. They're dressed like college kids—sneakers and jeans that are too tight—certainly not business attire.
“Our attorney asked the FBI: Why are you guys here? Do you have a court order, a warrant, anything? And they said no, and they said, ‘We're here to facilitate a cordial conversation.’ They looked embarrassed to be there, being just very honest.
“The conversation lasts maybe five minutes, then the DOGE people leave with the FBI agents. I didn’t realize at the time that one of the women in the DOGE SUV had run around to the side of the building and was trying to convince one of the guards to let her in through a side door, claiming at first that it was cold and she had to go to the bathroom. Then that changed, when she was told no, to: ‘I have every right to be in a government building.’ So on one hand you have the intimidation factor of federal agents plus DOGE