federal agencies

  • |

    OPM Cut 35% of Its Staff and Kept Adding Responsibilities

    The federal government has apparently labeled OPM’s 35 percent workforce reduction “efficiency,” a word that entered the records room, looked around, and refused to identify the remaining personnel. According to a July 20 Government Accountability Office report, the Office of Personnel Management eliminated 10 offices while cutting its headcount. The package was delivered to the agency responsible for human resources after many of the humans had been removed from the premises.

    GAO also found that 57 percent of departing OPM employees had at least 11 years of service. That is not merely a staffing change; that is institutional memory wheeling its suitcase toward the exit. These were the people who knew which form was obsolete, which process had three hidden steps, and which drawer contained the original drawer map.

    Meanwhile, the report describes OPM contemplating additional responsibilities, including handling more employee appeals and expanding work involving artificial intelligence and information-technology modernization. The contradiction is not that modernization exists. Modernization is useful. The contradiction is asking a smaller workforce to carry a larger filing cabinet while describing the missing hands as a strategic improvement.

    As Hugh Jass, I examined the paperwork under a lamp normally reserved for suspicious procurement documents. Exhibit A had a pulse: fewer employees, fewer offices, and a greater menu of assignments. No one should claim the report proves that these cuts directly caused a particular service failure. But it does document a capacity problem hiding in plain bureaucratic language. “Do more with less” is often just a management memo discovering arithmetic for the first time.

    The missing personnel have now been filed under “strategic efficiency,” a classification broad enough to contain an empty desk, a delayed appeal, and an entire generation of procedural knowledge. Ordinary federal workers and the people waiting on those systems deserve better than a government that treats experience as clutter and responsibility as an expandable field. Somewhere in OPM, a form is still looking for the staff member who knows where to send it.

  • |

    There’s No Protester Database (It’s Just the Records Cabinet, Actually)

    ICE keeps telling the public it doesn’t maintain a “protester database,” which is adorable in the way a “no carbs” candy label is adorable. My favorite kind of privacy is the kind that comes with a filing system you only get to call “not that.” In the latest surveillance panic swirl, reporting around an April 21 letter to Congress and an Feb. 3, 2026 referenced official document is basically the corkboard’s way of going: follow the thread, but check the knot.

    Here’s the contradiction audit: in the correspondence/reporting being discussed, the concern isn’t hypothetical. The official materials describe collecting and maintaining identifying and situational information about people connected to protest activity—even when they aren’t arrested. So when the reassurance pitch is “don’t worry, it’s not a database,” the word choice starts looking less like a privacy policy and more like packaging. Because the justifications keep landing on familiar government drumbeats like “officer safety” and “facility security,” which is bureaucratic for “we can keep the records as long as we call it for the vibes.”

    And who benefits from the fog machine? Not protesters. Not the neighbors who just got dragged into the group chat because someone said “watch out, they’re building a list.” The benefit goes to the accountability dodge: if the public’s worried about surveillance, you respond by arguing about whether the cupboard is a database or a cabinet. It’s the bureaucratic equivalent of a magician announcing, “Nothing is being pulled from hats,” while politely producing an item from a different drawer.

    This is how normal people end up panicking anyway: a real public-institution data practice gets translated into a meme-sized question of wording, and then everyone fights about the wording while the underlying structure remains. If the reassurance depends on semantics—“it’s just records”—the right takeaway isn’t “stop asking.” It’s: demand clear, plain transparency about what’s collected, retained, and why, because if you’re still being identified and cataloged, the word “database” isn’t the only thing doing the work.

  • |

    The Improper Payments ATM Is Still Open

    Washington keeps promising to hunt waste like it just discovered a flashlight, and then GAO walks in saying federal agencies estimated $186 billion in improper payments for fiscal year 2025. Not fraud, necessarily — put the pitchfork down, cable-news foam machine — but overpayments, underpayments, missing paperwork, payments that should not have gone out, and other bureaucratic classics from the album Who Authorized This?

    That is the contradiction with teeth: the same capital city that sells fiscal discipline by the pound still has payment controls leaky enough to embarrass a garden hose. Every agency can hold a stern little podium festival about waste, fraud, and abuse, but the receipt printer is screaming in the basement. This is not a partisan trophy wall. It is Washington proving it did not just lose the receipt; it somehow misplaced the receipt for the receipt.

    Sources

End of content

End of content