As 2025 draws to a close, the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)—the much-hyped initiative led initially by Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy—has quietly disbanded, eight months ahead of its scheduled sunset in July 2026. What began with bold promises of $1-2 trillion in annual spending cuts has ended not with a bang, but with a whimper: federal outlays reached approximately $7 trillion in fiscal year 2025, up from prior years, while the deficit held steady at around $1.8 trillion. No structural reforms to entitlements, no meaningful dent in the debt trajectory—all sadly predictable and, indeed, predicted.
Back in March, in two pieces for the Libertarian Institute—”The Lofty Goals and Harsh Realities of DOGE” on March 5 and “DOGE and the Futility of Reform” on March 19—I laid out why this outcome was inevitable. The problems weren’t with the intentions of its leaders (though leadership turnover didn’t help) but with the immutable dynamics of bureaucracy itself. As I argued then, invoking Jerry Pournelle’s Iron Law of Bureaucracy and Public Choice Theory, government agencies exist primarily to perpetuate and expand themselves. Reform efforts from within—especially top-down, outsider-driven ones like DOGE—are met with delays, litigation, selective disruptions, and outright sabotage. History is littered with the graves of similar initiatives: the Keep Commission under Theodore Roosevelt, the Grace Commission under Reagan, the National Performance Review under Clinton. Each identified waste; none achieved lasting cuts.
DOGE followed this familiar script to perfection.
From the start, its claims were inflated. Early “savings” touted at $55 billion were quickly debunked, revealing only a fraction (often low single-digit billions) in verifiable contract or lease terminations. Errors also abounded: an $8 billion ICE contract cancellation that was actually $8 million; partial terminations counted as full; pre-existing cancellations rebranded as DOGE triumphs. By spring, claims escalated to $100-160 billion, but independent analyses (from outlets like Fortune) showed the “wall of receipts” overstated savings by billions through misleading accounting—claiming full ceiling values on contracts rather than actual spent amounts.
Leadership instability accelerated the unraveling. Vivek Ramaswamy exited in late January amid reported tensions with Musk. Musk himself pivoted away by May, refocusing on his businesses after public frictions with the administration. Former DOGE staff scattered into agencies or other roles, and by November, the initiative had no centralized existence—its functions absorbed (or abandoned) across the government.
Yet this hardly matters, for as I emphasized in March, even flawless execution couldn’t touch the real drivers of spending. Nearly 75% of the federal budget is locked into Social Security, Medicare, defense, and debt interest—categories President Trump repeatedly shielded from cuts. Discretionary spending, where DOGE focused its axe (contracts, leases, personnel), is a shrinking slice of the pie. Workforce reductions saved perhaps tens of billions annually at best—dwarfed by entitlement growth and interest payments now topping $1 trillion yearly.
The final totals underscore the failure. FY2025 outlays: ~$7 trillion (up ~$300 billion from FY2024). Deficit: ~$1.8 trillion (essentially flat). National debt: pushing $38 trillion. Any minor trims from DOGE were swamped by structural obligations and new priorities. The administration now insists “DOGE principles” live on—deregulation here, efficiency tweaks there—but the high-profile entity is gone, its ambitious targets abandoned.
This isn’t to deny some positives: deregulation advanced in spots, certain wasteful programs (like parts of USAID) were curtailed, and the workforce purge exposed entrenched bloat. But these are marginal victories in a system designed to resist wholesale reform. As Public Choice Theory predicts, concentrated interests (bureaucrats, contractors, beneficiaries) fiercely guard their slices, while diffuse taxpayers foot the bill. Politicians, responding to incentives, avoid touching third-rail programs.
DOGE was a bold experiment, fueled by outsider energy and a catchy meme. But without radical structural changes—sunset clauses for agencies, binding spending caps, entitlement reforms—it was doomed. Government doesn’t shrink itself voluntarily; it must be forced. History proves bureaucracy almost always wins.
And so the fiscal doom loop continues: deficits as far as the eye can see, debt compounding, and reformers left holding the bag. Until voters demand real sacrifice or incentives fundamentally shift, expect more of the same—flashy initiatives that disrupt without transforming.
