#41 - USAID - Like a Bull in a -- Hey, Is That Our Shop?

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We are 16 days into President Trump’s second term. He has hit the ground rolling, or bulldozing, or crashing, or choose-your-verbing. If there’s one thing I feel I’ve learned over these last two weeks, it’s to spend as little time as possible trying to predict what’s coming next: last Monday, a memo came from the Office of Management and Budget directing all federal agencies to “temporarily pause all activities related to obligation or disbursement of all Federal financial assistance, and other relevant agency activities that may be implicated by executive orders, including, but not limited to, financial assistance for foreign aid, nongovernmental organizations, DEI, woke gender ideology, and the green new deal.” Fast forward two days and, following a rather swift and severe reaction, the directive hadn’t just been amended and clarified, but rescinded. As of this Sunday night, we were headed full tilt into a trade war with Canada and Mexico; Monday afternoon, we had agreements with both countries to delay implementation of tariffs for a month—whether the deals were due to our allies capitulating almost immediately or President Trump getting a bit sick looking at stock prices is in the eye of the beholder.

Right now, the focus is on the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), an independent agency primarily responsible for administering civilian foreign aid and development assistance. Over the last few weeks, “much of the agency was dismantled—work and spending ordered stopped, leadership and staff gutted by furloughs, firings and disciplinary leaves, and the website taken offline.” Efficiency czar Elon Musk called it a “criminal organization” that should be shut down immediately: “Time for it to die.” The reaction from Democrats has been robust, with congressmen demonstrating and calling the shutdown a “constitutional crisis” and “corrupt abuse of power”: “Elon Musk may get to be dictator of Tesla, and he may try to play dictator here in Washington, D.C., but he doesn’t get to shut down [USAID],” said Senator Chris Van Hollen of Maryland. Hawaii’s Senator Brian Schatz promised to place a blanket hold on all of Trump’s State Department nominees “until and unless this brazenly authoritarian action is reversed and USAID is functional again.” For what it’s worth, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, now the acting director of USAID, stressed that some and perhaps many USAID programs would continue under the umbrella of the State Department, but that the switch was necessary because the agency had become unaccountable to the executive branch and Congress.

In lieu of writing 5,000 words on a developing issue that could be in a completely different place by the time you actually read this story, permit me to share a few quick thoughts:

Thought #1: It is very likely that some of USAID’s $40 billion plus in spending is very smart and worthwhile, and some of it is very dumb. It is also very likely that some of what seems smart isn’t, and some of what seems dumb also isn’t.

Thought #2: We shouldn’t discount the fact that even modest and temporary changes on our end can have significant consequences in the short and long term on the other end. The reality is that the click of a mouse in Washington can lead to the almost immediate suffering of the poor and innocent in some mostly forgotten corner of the globe. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make changes—for one, it is also the reality that the same click can lead to the enriching of the corrupt and violent in another, or even the same, corner of the globe—but I think it’s good to take a moment every now and then to remember how lucky we are to be making choices about giving, instead of spending our days worrying about receiving.

Thought #3: This is pretty much exactly what many Trump voters signed up for. Trump acts. Elon Musk acts. And, to be clear, efforts to make the federal government more efficient are not new, nor are they necessarily conservative or liberal: prior initiatives came during the administrations of Teddy Roosevelt (the Keep Commission), Ronald Reagan (the Grace Commission—in authorizing it, Reagan first used the phrase, “drain the swamp”), and Bill Clinton (the Al Gore-led National Partnership for Reinventing Government, or NPR). The NPR led to the elimination of over 100 federal government programs, 250,000 federal jobs, the consolidation of over 800 agencies, and the transfer of institutional knowledge to contractors.

Thought #4: However, while the what has maybe been done before, the how is new, and that comes with risks, and the potential for backlash, and not just in the form of legal challenges.

President Trump won 49.8% of the popular vote running against now-former Vice President Kamala Harris and Minnesota Governor Tim Walz in a year in which (i) then-President Biden did his party the all-time solid of running for a full fifteen months before finally deciding—under a fair amount of pressure—to bow out and (ii) incumbents around the world got trounced. 49.8%! Enough for a clear win? Absolutely. Have the proverbial vibes and winds shifted? Have many rank-and-file Democrats started to think their platform needs a re-imagining? Again, absolutely. But Trump’s mandate, for better or worse, is probably more limited than many Republicans would like to think.

Think back to four years ago: Joe Biden came into office thinking that he had the mandate, which I suppose is now the politician’s word of choice for when they want to go big and generally want people to shut up about it. He wanted an F.D.R.-style presidency—it didn't work. What would you consider an actual mandate? Trump currently has 53 Republicans in the Senate and 219 in the House. During Herbert Hoover’s first two years in office, he enjoyed 56 Republicans in the Senate and 267 in the House; in FDR’s first two years, he had 59 and 313. Four years later, for the first two years of his second term, he had 76 and 333. That, I would argue, is probably closer to a real mandate.

That isn’t to say that Trump should not pursue his political priorities, nor that those political priorities aren’t popular—many of them are, and Trump’s personal approval rating likely lags behind his agenda’s approval rating because of the number of people who simply don’t like Trump the man very much. But I do think that political momentum is fragile, and perhaps more easily destroyed than restored. Plus, presidents are not just blamed for their own actions, rightly or wrongly—they’re blamed for pretty much anything that happens while they’re president.

Trump’s companion on this venture is Elon Musk. Very, very briefly, he’s the wealthiest man in the world; the owner of a litany of companies, including Tesla, SpaceX, and X (he really likes the letter “X”); the most generous donor of the 2024 campaign cycle (over $280 million); a now-devoted supporter of President Trump, having previously voted for both Hillary Clinton and Joe Biden; and, currently, and, for the purposes of this article, most importantly, the ostensible head of the Department of Government Efficiency, or DOGE.

He is also, like the president, a provocateur, a willing troll.

I love sports. My first and deepest love is baseball, but I have watched and will watch almost anything. There is a phenomenon in each sport (as far as I’m aware) that we’ll call the Demonstrative Athlete^TM. In baseball, symptoms might include flipping the bat and walking a good 45 feet before jogging after hitting a home run; in basketball, dunking and then staring down the dunked-on; in football, a particularly provocative touchdown dance.

There are Demonstrative Athletes in every culture—more in some than others, yes, but they’re everywhere. The best bat flips in the world aren’t found in America, or even in Latin America, but—where else?—in South Korea.

Demonstrative Athletes tend to be very fun if they’re on your team and good, and unbelievably annoying if they’re (i) on your team and bad, (ii) on another team and good, or, heck, (iii) on another team and bad. The only way for them not to be annoying is to be on your team and really good. To paint one concrete example, if a great player on your team (the Giants) hits a long home run, especially, say, against the Dodgers, you can forgive—heck, would maybe even support—him flipping the bat further than he hit the ball, walking the entire way around the bases, and, upon arriving at home plate, throwing the pitcher a paper airplane that unfolds into a handwritten note listing his various moral and athletic shortcomings. Then, if any player on the other team hits a long home run, so much as a one-second pause before he dutifully begins to trot around the bases with his head down in respectful penitence will have you seeking your spiritual center and sniffing scented candles to avoid actively rooting for a violent brawl that results in an injury to the offending player (ideally, something funny, like a ruptured hemorrhoid). It’s not easy to be rational about a Demonstrative Athlete.

And that’s the thing: Trump and Musk are a lot like Demonstrative Athletes. That’s not a commentary on substance—that’s a commentary on how people react to the substance. For Trump, the substantive success—or the perception of substantive success—is crucial once he reaches the limits of his base, and that base has limits. Trump has two years to prove that his political coalition deserves to be expanded. This is an early test.

It can be a great strength to be willing to be disliked; it is not a great strength to actually be disliked.

Question of the Day

A simple one: what do you think? Where do we stand in a month? Are Musk’s efforts a threat to the constitutional order? Will they fall apart because they’re a threat to the constitutional order? Will they work because they’re a jolt to the constitutional order?

Random Fact

This is going to be a personal fact/recommendation set—forgive me.

I have two younger brothers, one a therapist in a group home for abused children, and the other a concert violinist. I am immensely proud of both of them. Regarding Will, the violinist: I cannot tell you the extraordinary level of skill and dedication it takes to succeed in such a career. For most jobs, the decision point comes mercifully late. I decided to go to law school when I was in my 20s; even many professional athletes played more than one sport through high school and some through college. To play classical music professionally typically requires a much earlier and more significant commitment. Will was practicing hours a day in early elementary school—it has been clear since way back then what he wanted to do with his life, and that’s pretty much what the job requires. Much the same story could be told of his colleagues and friends. Classical music doesn’t have nearly the audience that the music you see rewarded at the Grammys does, but the unparalleled skill and lifetime of effort and dedication required to play it really, really well is worthy of our attention and respect. Okay, technically, classical music is rewarded at the Grammys, but it’s not headlining—“That was a great performance from Sabrina Carpenter. Now, some dude playing Bach!”

Am I biased? Absolutely, but I come by it very honestly.

Anyway, here’s Will’s website bio:

“William Hagen has performed as soloist, recitalist, and chamber musician across the United States, Europe, Asia, and Latin America. In the 2024/25 season, William performs concertos by Barber, Brahms, Bruch, Korngold, Lalo, and Prokofiev with orchestras across the United States, and performs chamber music and recitals around the USA and Europe.

As soloist, William has appeared with the Chicago Symphony, Chamber Orchestra of Europe, Detroit Symphony, Frankfurt Radio Symphony (HR Sinfonieorchester), San Francisco Symphony, Seattle Symphony, Utah Symphony, and many others around the globe.

As recitalist and chamber musician, William has performed at venues such as Wigmore Hall and the Louvre, and collaborated with artists such as Steven Isserlis, Gidon Kremer, Edgar Meyer, and Tabea Zimmerman, among others. He maintains an active schedule on both sides of the Atlantic, making frequent trips to Europe and cities around the US to play a wide range of repertoire.

In 2020, William released his debut album, ‘Danse Russe,’ with his good friend and frequent collaborator, pianist Albert Cano Smit. The album is available on all streaming platforms.

A native of Salt Lake City, Utah, William began playing the violin at the age of 4, studying the Suzuki method with Natalie Reed and then Deborah Moench. He studied with Itzhak Perlman and Catherine Cho at the Juilliard School, Christian Tetzlaff at the Kronberg Academy, and was a longtime student of Robert Lipsett, studying with Mr. Lipsett for 11 years both at the Colburn Community School of Performing Arts and at the Colburn Conservatory of Music. In 2015, William won 3rd prize at the Queen Elisabeth Competition in Brussels.

William performs on the 1732 ‘Arkwright Lady Rebecca Sylvan’ Antonio Stradivari, and on a violin bow by Francois Xavier Tourte, both on generous loan from the Rachel Barton Pine Foundation.”

Random Recommendation

Will and Albert’s album is fantastic and available on all platforms (Albert is also fantastic, by the way—probably my favorite Spaniard, although now I’m realizing I’m not sure I know any other Spaniards). Here, from the recording sessions at Teldex Studios in Berlin, is the Stravinsky Suite Italienne, 1. Introduzione: