OPINION
By SAM FOGLESONG
Kansas Reflector
In a March 5 ruling, the Merit Systems Protection Board ordered the U.S. Department of Agriculture to temporarily reinstate nearly 6,000 probationary employees who had been terminated en masse on Feb. 13.
The ruling found reasonable grounds to believe that the terminations had violated “Federal laws and regulations governing reductions-in-force (RIFs) and probationary terminations.”
Six days later, the USDA issued its own announcement indicating that it would “place all terminated probationary employees in pay status and provide each with back pay, from the date of termination.” while they develop a phased plan for their return to work.
My wife was one of the 6,000 USDA probationary employees unceremoniously fired Feb. 13 at the behest of Elon Musk and his Department of Government Efficiency. We observed these developments with mixed emotions.
On the one hand, we felt vindicated. One of the most insulting elements of the terminations — the baseless claim that they were a result of poor performance — was central to the decision declaring the firings unlawful. But vindication is not always comforting.
For many recently terminated federal employees — including my wife — the leadup to their termination was more disconcerting than the firing itself. During this period, they received a flurry of emails that communicated veiled threats about the permanence of their positions and a disregard for the value of their work. The result was a hostile state of limbo.
Much of this seemed intentional. As Russel Vought, director of the United States Office of Management and Budget, said: “We want the bureaucrats to be traumatically affected. … We want them to not want to go to work because they are increasingly viewed as the villains.”
So, when my wife received news of her termination, there was a limited sense of relief that this kind of hostility and uncertainty was over.
Some of our federal employee friends who were fired have left Kansas, moved in with their families or are interviewing for new positions. For them, the news that they were to be “temporarily reinstated” plunged them back into uncertain waters and made it difficult to plan for the future.
As my wife interviews for new jobs and considers alternative career paths, she knows that she may be “rehired” at any moment. But even then there is no guarantee that she wouldn’t simply be fired again in a few months.
The ruling and this renewed uncertainty highlighted the irony that the Department of Government Efficiency is creating an enormous amount of waste and inefficiency.
In keeping with the meme and trolling lore that informs Musk and DOGE’s operations, it was as if they couldn’t resist justifying the termination of thousands of probationary employees with an unwarranted slight about their performance. In doing so, they contravened standard reduction in force procedures.
As a result, 6,000 federal employees will receive salary and benefits for a month of inactivity. Moreover, they will continue to be paid to stay at home while the USDA worksout a plan for some of them to be reinstated while others are dismissed in line with standard procedures. How’s that for government efficiency?
Across the country, the chaos and unpredictability of the Musk/DOGE cuts have made it significantly harder for individual offices to function. For government employees and department leaders alike, planning projects and managing schedules has become nearly impossible when there’s no certainty about who will still have a job tomorrow, or whether funding for critical projects will remain in place.
Had Musk and DOGE pursued their cuts in a more methodical manner, much of this waste, disruption, and inefficiency could have been avoided.
But focusing on these inefficiencies alone is to miss the forest for the trees. The recklessness of Musk and DOGE isn’t just the byproduct of their adherence to meme and troll culture — it is a deliberate strategy rooted in their fundamental disdain for the civil service itself. They are not trying to fix the system, they are trying to break it. By creating dysfunction, they validate their own argument that the government doesn’t work.
When Musk pranced around on stage at the CPAC conference with his “chainsaw for bureaucracy” he wasn’t signaling his intentions for methodical restructuring or communicating a new vision for the federal workforce. He was foreshadowing its demise. Indeed, had he been able to wield a diesel-powered clear cut logging machine, it would have been a much more honest portrayal of his intentions.
Concerned citizens should take note of the individual abuses and waste generated by DOGE while remaining aware of its broader agenda. The ultimate goal is for the public to relinquish responsibility for protecting public lands, conserving wildlife, and preserving history and archaeology based on the flimsy hope that the private sector might do a better job. As I wrote last time, this is a very dubious proposition.
Before concluding, I want to address two anticipated criticisms.
The first is the inevitable whataboutism that will point to previous administrations’ callousness toward workers, such as Joe Biden’s suggestion in 2019 that displaced coal miners could transition to tech jobs, stating: “Anybody who can go down 3,000 feet in a mine can sure as hell learn to program as well.”
This type of response assumes both my endorsement of such frivolous remarks and my political affiliations, which are false and irrelevant respectively. More importantly, it serves as a deflection — an excuse to avoid engaging with the problems that Musk and DOGE have created. Rather than fostering solidarity over shared grievances, the “welcome to the club” comments I expect to receive will be laden with schadenfreude, as if the real takeaway is that the “other side” is finally feeling the same pain.
The second likely criticism is a perceived lack of gratitude for the back pay my wife and thousands of other civil servants are receiving. But this overstates the value of money as a remedy for the confusion, disrespect, and upheaval. It also misjudges the character of many federal workers like my wife.
For those dedicated to preserving history, safeguarding public lands, and protecting national parks and wildlife, the work itself is more important than the paycheck. They don’t just want compensation. They want to return to their jobs and continue serving the public.
Sam Foglesong is a scholar of African Studies and a writer who lives in Hays.