DOGE and America’s last chance at greatness

In the annals of history, empires crumble not with a bang but with a whimper — a slow bleed of resources, a quiet surrender to the weight of their own excess. This is the grim prophecy of Ferguson’s Law, named for Scottish philosopher Adam Ferguson, who distilled a simple, brutal truth from the wreckage of great powers past: when a nation spends more servicing its debt than fortifying its defenses, it teeters on the edge of oblivion.

Habsburg, Spain, the Ottoman Empire, and the British Empire all faltered when their ledgers tipped this way, their coffers drained by interest payments while their swords dulled. Today, the United States stands at that precipice. In 2024, the nation crossed Ferguson’s “limit,” with debt service eclipsing defense spending — $1.124 trillion to $1.107 trillion — a razor-thin margin that signals a deeper rot. If history is a guide, this is not merely a fiscal footnote; it is an existential warning.

Enter Donald Trump and Elon Musk, an unlikely duo now wielding a chainsaw (sometimes literally) against the sprawling bureaucracy of the American state. Their weapon of choice is the Department of Government Efficiency, or DOGE — a name that nods to Musk’s penchant for cryptocurrency mischief but carries a far weightier mission. Launched by executive order on Trump’s first day back in the White House in January 2025, DOGE is no mere advisory panel; it is a battering ram aimed at the federal government’s bloated underbelly.

Musk, the world’s richest man and a self-styled “Tech Support” for the republic, has taken to the task with the zeal of a man who once fired half of Twitter’s staff overnight. Already, the team has slashed contracts, shuttered leases, and offered buyouts to millions of federal workers, all while gaining access to the Treasury’s payment systems to root out what they call “fraud and waste.” Trump, meanwhile, has blessed this blitz, framing it as a crusade to save America from itself.

The stakes could not be higher. Ferguson’s Law is not a theory to be debated in ivory towers; it is a mathematical certainty etched in the ruins of empires. When debt service outpaces defense, a nation’s ability to project power erodes. Resources that should fuel innovation, secure borders, or deter adversaries are instead funneled to bondholders — many of them foreign. The U.S. national debt, now a staggering $36 trillion, is a ticking clock. By 2049, the Congressional Budget Office projects net interest payments could hit 4.9 percent of GDP, dwarfing defense spending at an estimated 2.45 percent. This is not just a financial crisis; it is a death knell for a superpower.

A country that cannot defend itself — or worse, cannot afford to — invites challengers to test its resolve. In a world of rising powers like China and emboldened autocrats, the United States cannot afford to be caught counting pennies while its rivals sharpen blades.

DOGE’s early moves are a desperate bid to reverse this slide. The team has targeted agencies like the Department of Education and the U.S. Agency for International Development, slashing budgets and dismantling programs with a speed that has left Washington reeling. Critics howl about legality and chaos, but the urgency is undeniable. The federal budget, a $7 trillion behemoth, is riddled with inefficiencies — $208 billion in savings identified by the Government Accountability Office alone, from Medicare payment reforms to redundant contracts.

Trump and Musk are betting that by hacking away at this excess, they can free up resources to shore up the nation’s defenses and stave off the Ferguson limit’s fatal embrace. It’s a gamble, but one rooted in necessity: a nation drowning in debt cannot long remain a nation.

Yet there’s a delicate dance at play. Trump has vowed to protect Medicare and Social Security, the twin pillars of America’s social contract, from DOGE’s blade. It’s a promise that resonates with the millions who brought him back to power, a nod to the elderly and vulnerable who view these programs as non-negotiable. Together, they account for nearly $2.5 trillion of annual spending — more than a third of the budget — and their costs are rising as the population ages. The math is unforgiving: by 2035, the Social Security trust fund could be insolvent without reform, and Medicare’s hospital insurance fund may follow by 2036, according to the trustees’ reports. Still, Trump’s pledge buys time, serving as a political lifeline to avoid alienating his base while DOGE takes its first swings elsewhere.

This strategy — beginning with discretionary spending and then revisiting entitlements — holds merit, both tactically and ethically. The federal government is a maze of waste beyond the traditional strongholds of Medicare and Social Security. For instance, the Pentagon wastes billions on outdated systems and unaccounted expenses — a 2024 audit discovered $850 million in discrepancies.

Agencies like the IRS, which Musk’s team has already infiltrated, could streamline operations to increase revenue without raising taxes. The Department of Education, a longstanding Republican target, spends $80 billion annually, yet student outcomes remain behind; DOGE’s cuts there could redirect funds to more urgent needs. By addressing these areas first, Trump and Musk can build a case — dollars saved, efficiencies gained — before confronting the more challenging issue of entitlement reform.

And that sale will come. Ferguson’s Law allows no room for sentimentality. Entitlements, however valued, are the elephant in the budget, projected to grow from 10.2 percent of GDP in 2024 to 14.2 percent by 2050, according to the CBO. Without reform — whether by raising the retirement age, means-testing benefits, or capping growth — the U.S. will plunge deeper into the debt trap, leaving less for defense, infrastructure, or the innovation that Musk advocates.

The American public, long used to these programs as birthrights, will need convincing. DOGE’s early victories could provide the credibility to make that argument: If billions can be saved elsewhere, why not here? The alternative is unimaginable: a future in which the U.S. cannot fund its military, its commitments, or its very existence.

Musk’s role in this drama is audacious and essential. He brings an outsider’s ruthlessness and a Silicon Valley ethos that views bureaucracy as a bug to be squashed. His clashes with civil servants and his gleeful X posts — labeling USAID a “criminal organization” — are indeed theater, but they highlight a deeper truth: the status quo is untenable.

Trump, for his part, provides the political muscle, offering a mandate from voters who yearn for disruption. Together, they are racing against Ferguson’s clock, knowing that financial health encompasses not just balancing the books but also preserving the nation’s soul.

If they fail, the United States risks becoming a cautionary tale of hubris and neglect, another name in the graveyard of great powers. If they succeed, they may just rewrite the ledger — and the future.