DOGE was once promoted as the sledgehammer that would smash federal bureaucracy. A sweeping “government overhaul” that Elon Musk promised would save tens—even hundreds—of billions of dollars. But after barely ten months of operation, the so-called “efficiency revolution” has revealed its true form: chaos, inflated claims, and a massive financial crater left for taxpayers to fill.
During its brief existence, DOGE created only one thing—a sprawling, expensive mess. And that is not an exaggeration. A report from the nonpartisan Partnership for Public Service shows that DOGE didn’t save money at all; it cost the United States an estimated $135 billion. Enough to fund dozens of major federal programs. Enough to keep the IRS fully staffed for years. Enough to prove that the project meant to “slash government waste” ended up becoming one of the biggest sources of waste itself.
DOGE began with an unprecedented wave of firings. More than 260,000 federal employees were pushed out—terminated, forced into early retirement, or pressured to step down. It wasn’t downsizing; it was hollowing out the government from the inside. The result wasn’t efficiency—it was paralysis. Agencies couldn’t process cases. Projects stalled. Essential public services froze because there simply weren’t enough workers left to run them.
The IRS was hit the hardest. Analysts warn that if roughly 22,000 IRS employees leave—something DOGE aggressively pushed—the agency could lose $8.5 billion in revenue in 2026 alone, and nearly $200 billion over a decade. Not because of tax cuts, but because there aren’t enough people left to collect taxes. A government that cannot collect revenue cannot function. And DOGE directly shoved the IRS toward that breaking point.
Then came the numbers. Those loud, triumphant announcements from DOGE claiming it had saved $100, $150, even $200 billion—numbers repeated across media as signs of “historic success.” But when investigations began, the truth unraveled. Many of the “billion-dollar contracts” that DOGE claimed to cancel were actually worth only a few million. Some contracts were already about to expire naturally. Others didn’t create any real savings at all. According to independent reviews, most of DOGE’s savings claims could not be verified.
And then, suddenly, DOGE simply evaporated. No press conference. No accountability. Not even a coherent explanation. Just a flat statement from the Office of Personnel Management: “DOGE no longer exists as a centralized entity.” A project launched with fanfare, political theater, and massive promises ended with a quiet shrug.
DOGE didn’t collapse because people resisted it. It collapsed because it couldn’t support its own weight. No roadmap. No clear methodology. No impact assessments. No transparency. And above all, no real evidence behind the glowing numbers Musk repeatedly pushed into the spotlight.
What was marketed as “the most significant government reform in modern U.S. history” has now become one of the clearest examples of reckless decision-making—governance built on slogans instead of data, impulse instead of planning. Instead of making government faster, leaner, and cheaper, DOGE left behind a multi-billion-dollar bill that Americans will be paying for long after the project’s disappearance.
A reform promised to save taxpayer money—and in the end, it became one of the most expensive disasters the federal workforce has ever seen.
