The WITAOD Chronicles

Feb. 14, 2025

Valentine’s Day. Other women are getting flowers and taking selfies and posting mushy stuff on social media.

I, by contrast, am in federal court in the southern district of New York, watching as U.S. District Judge Jeanette Vargas presides over a hearing in a suit brought by more than a dozen state attorneys general. The suit seeks to block access to the Treasury payment system by a weird outfit called DOGE.

Judge Vargas is considering a request for a preliminary injunction.

Nothing says love like trying to figure out who’s running your government.❤️❤️❤️❤️

I have just been yelled at by a court officer for whispering too loudly. And I forgot to bring my notebook, so I had to nick some loose sheets from a colleague. At least I brought a pen. I am a model legal reporter.

After the hearing, I loiter outside the courthouse when suddenly Christopher Healy, a senior adviser to the general counsel at the Treasury Department, walks by. He’s walking fast—like a man who knows I’m hunting government lawyers with an absurd question.

Healy tries to wave questions off, making a beeline for a car waiting at the curb, but I shout at him: “WHO IS THE ADMINISTRATOR OF DOGE?”

Without breaking stride, Healy tosses back: “I don’t know the answer to that.”

And that, dear reader, is my Joker origin story.

Before this moment, I was already fascinated by who was running this fake agency, which the president had created by executive order almost a month earlier and which had been busily tearing the federal government apart ever since. I was already frustrated by my inability to get basic answers about who was in charge of this effort, which was putting thousands of people out of work.

But as I watch the tail-lights on Healy’s getaway car vanish into the New York City haze like the end of a Law & Order episode, I suddenly realize that not even lawyers for the government know who is running the show. And I realize as well that I have a calling, a mission, a journalistic purpose in life.

Some women want love, and on Valentines Day, who can blame them? Some seek power and money. Some seek attention and fame.

I just want to know who the administrator of DOGE really is.

I may never get an answer.

But I’m going to keep asking.

Jan. 20, 2025

Flashback to Inauguration Day.

Temperature: Colder than Mitch McConnell’s heart. 🥶❄️🧊

The MAGA masses are here in full force for the second coming of Donald J. Trump—former president, ex-reality star, recently convicted felon, and now, thanks to American voters, president once more.

Me? I’m in my natural habitat several miles away from the Capitol: Feral in my pajamas, mainlining caffeine, compulsively refreshing PACER like it’s a high-stakes slot machine. My editor, Benjamin Wittes, gave me this glamorous assignment because we’re expecting a legal avalanche now that Trump is officially re-sworn in. Lucky me.

I refresh the docket with the urgency of a woman defusing a bomb. Or think Lost—that guy pushing the button every 108 minutes to save the world. Except in my version, the button costs 10 cents per press from PACER, and instead of saving the world, it churns out PDFs in 12-point Times New Roman.

Anyway, minutes after Trump takes the oath, I clock multiple lawsuits. Because I am—and I cannot emphasize this enough—a model legal reporter.

First case: something about DOGE. No, not the meme coin. Something even stupider.

DOGE stands for “Department of Government Efficiency,” which is funny because: (a) it’s not actually a department; (b) it’s not clear that it’s a part of the federal government; and (c) it’s not really about efficiency.

DOGE is the brainchild of the richest man in the world, Elon Musk, who thinks the acronym is funny.

You remember how it all started: Musk officially endorsed Trump, poured millions into his campaign, and then suggested creating a “government efficiency task force” during a live interview on X, which—friendly reminder—is still just Twitter but with a worse user interface and more swastikas.

Trump—apparently unaware that we already have multiple government entities devoted to efficiency—loved the idea. During a public speech less than a month later, he discussed his plans to establish such a commission, which he envisioned as being “tasked with conducting a complete financial and performance audit of the entire federal government and making recommendations for drastic reforms.”

“And Elon, because he’s not very busy, has agreed to head that task force,” Trump added.

After the election, the “task force” got a name and an acronym: The Department of Government Efficiency, or DOGE. According to a statement issued by Trump on Nov. 12, 2024, DOGE would be formed as an outside advisory committee to dismantle bureaucracy, to gut regulations, and generally to “Marie Kondo” the entire federal government—much of which has apparently not sparked joy.

Trump’s chosen leaders? “The Great Elon Musk” and “American Patriot” Vivek Ramaswamy “will lead” DOGE, Trump said.

Later that month, Musk and Ramaswamy penned an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal in which they set out their goal to “cut the government down to size.” The Journal described the two as “co-heads of the Department of Government Efficiency.”

By the eve of Trump’s inauguration, however, Musk has ousted his DOGE co-lead, Ramaswamy—about whom nobody has heard anything since.

Call it the first cut of the DOGE era.

By evening, there are three suits targeting DOGE in the District of Columbia alone. The suits, filed by several advocacy groups, allege that DOGE violates federal transparency law established under the Federal Advisory Committee Act (FACA). The 1972 law requires a federal “advisory committee” to follow certain rules and procedures related to its establishment, staffing, and disclosure practices. The three suits challenging DOGE’s activities under FACA each seek to shut down the organization until it complies with federal transparency rules.

But here’s the problem with these complaints: no one really knows what DOGE is. It hasn’t even been established yet. There actually is no DOGE. Is it an “advisory committee”? A federal agency? A collective tech bro fever dream? It’s completely unclear, because the administration’s exact plans for DOGE remain … murky. A government body has to be constituted. That’s why we have, you know, a constitution—to, you know, constitute the government. People are suing the DOGE before a DOGE even exists to sue. There’s not even an executive order yet.

Semafor reports that Trump plans to issue one officially creating DOGE within the White House. But it hasn’t happened. We’ll have to wait and see.

We really know only one thing about DOGE: Musk is in charge of it.

That’s what he says. That’s what the president says.

It’s now 7:30 p.m. Inauguration Day stretches on.

Mood: Existential dread.

PACER refreshes: 137

Salad leaves consumed: 4.5

Coffees (cold, bitter): 3

Dinner: Mac, cheese, and more existential dread.

Like the diligent journalism goblin that I am, I refresh the White House website.

And then, boom: a new executive order appears.

DOGE is official. It has been constituted.

As Semafor predicted, the executive order places DOGE within the federal government—specifically, in the Executive Office of the President. And—plot twist—the executive order doesn’t even create a new entity. The president simply renamed the former United States Digital Service to…you guessed it…the “United States DOGE Service.”

The former United States Digital Service was originally tasked with improving user experience on government websites and technology, the DOGE order sets out a new purpose for the rebranded organization: “to implement the President’s DOGE Agenda.” This so-called “DOGE agenda” isn’t really defined but it supposedly involves “modernizing Federal technology and software to maximize governmental efficiency and productivity.”

The order doesn’t stop there. It also spawns a new sub-component within the U.S. DOGE Service, called the “U.S. DOGE Service Temporary Organization.” As the name suggests, the Temporary Organization is, well, temporary. The order provides that it “shall be dedicated to advancing the President’s 18-month DOGE agenda” and “shall expire on July 4, 2026.”

The order additionally requires every federal department to establish its own in-house DOGE team, made up of four roles: a lead, an engineer, a human resources specialist, and an attorney. According to the executive order, these teams will advance a “Software Modernization Initiative” to improve government software and to “promote inter-operability between agency networks and systems.”

Who leads this circus? The “USDS Administrator,” who heads both the U.S. DOGE Service and the Temporary Organization. According to the executive order, the administrator is broadly responsible for implementing the president’s “DOGE Agenda”—which, again, is undefined but apparently refers to the whole “modernize tech, increase efficiency” thing.

Reading the executive order, I’m relieved to see that the administrator’s duties—and DOGE’s mission overall—are mostly advisory (even if it’s technically not an “advisory committee”). Among other things, the DOGE administrator consults with agency heads to help select DOGE team personnel and coordinates with agency personnel to help DOGE aides gain full access to agencies’ unclassified records and IT systems.

That latter part doesn’t sound great (why exactly does DOGE need access to all unclassified records and IT systems?). But, at least in theory, the executive order seems to envision that actual agency officials—not DOGE or its administrator—will have the final say over which funds to cut or which regulations to slash.

All of which is a relief because, while the order doesn’t name the administrator, it’s obviously Musk—a tech billionaire who has no government experience, who believes that our reality is likely a Matrix-style simulation, and who really wants to go to Mars.

Right?

I mean, he’s the one Trump said would “lead DOGE.”

He co-authored its founding manifesto in the Wall Street Journal. 

He stood on a stage earlier today and promised the crowd he’d “bring DOGE to Mars.”

So yeah. He’s the guy.

And since DOGE is just an advisory body, it’s not like Musk will wield real power to unilaterally do very much.

Whew! We really dodged a bullet.

I’m going to sleep.

Feb. 3, 2025

Two weeks have passed. I’m catching up on news and court filings and it’s all about DOGE.

I’ve lived the first two weeks of the second Trump administration in blissful ignorance of all things DOGE. Senate nomination hearing coverage has had my attention.

But DOGE is everywhere as I read the backlog of news. While I was thinking about Kash Patel and Pam Bondi and Pete Hegseth, DOGE apparently unleashed a wrecking ball on the federal government. It has taken control of the computer system at the Office of Personnel Management. DOGE affiliates have similarly “taken over” the General Services Administration. They’ve reportedly gained access to the Treasury Department’s payment system, too.

They’re nuking grants, defacing agency websites, gutting the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID).

This doesn’t seem much like an advisory body.

What’s more, DOGE appears to be a mishmash of tech bros, conservative lawyers, Musk company alumni … and at least one of my law school classmates. Most have no government experience. None appears to know much about the agencies they’re dismantling—or the careers they’re destroying.

I wonder if I, too, am qualified to destroy a federal agency.

Speaking of the Treasury Department’s payment system, a new lawsuit landed on the docket today. This suit, filed by federal employee unions, seeks to block DOGE’s access to a Treasury Department payment system within the Bureau of Fiscal Service, which maintains sensitive personal and financial information about “every individual” who makes or receives a payment from the federal government. Among other disbursements, the system is responsible for distributing tax refunds, federal employee salaries, payments to government contractors, and Social Security and Medicare benefits.

It’s unclear who at DOGE has access to the system, or what kind of access privileges they have.

Also unclear: Can DOGE unilaterally shut off payments at its own discretion? I wonder: If I had made slightly different choices in my 3L year, might I have my hand on the payment spigot for some federal agency right now?

Musk has certainly suggested that he and his people have the power to control spending. Yesterday, after General Michael Flynn complained on X about government grants that went to Lutheran Family Services and affiliated organizations, Musk replied: “The @DOGE team is rapidly shutting down these illegal payments.”

Illegal payments? The Lutherans?

So, DOGE seems to hold extraordinary power over federal agencies and financial systems. And Musk continues to act as though he’s calling the shots at DOGE.

But it’s all supposed to be merely advisory.

Something doesn’t add up. For one thing, the White House hasn’t publicly identified Musk as the administrator of DOGE. In fact, it hasn’t publicly confirmed that he’s a government employee at all.

All of which begs the question: What is Musk’s official title?

And why does the White House seem bent on keeping it under wraps?

He must be the administrator. He certainly sounds like it. Just last night, he hosted a livestream announcing the USAID shutdown.

“As we dug into USAID, it became apparent that what we have here is not an apple with a worm in it, but we have actually just a ball of worms,” he said. “And USAID is a ball of worms. There is no apple. And when there is no apple, you’ve just got to basically get rid of the whole thing … That’s why it’s got to go, it’s beyond repair.”

While he spoke, a DOGE team member apparently used a USAID email account to inform USAID staff that the agency’s headquarters would be closed.

Later, around 2 a.m., Musk posted: “We spent the weekend feeding USAID into the wood chipper.”

Today, 606 USAID staffers have been placed on administrative leave. Secretary of State Marco Rubio tells Congress the agency “may be abolished.” Granted, Rubio formally delegated authority to someone named Peter Marocco, a State Department official. But it sure seems like DOGE is driving the decisions. And it sure seems like Musk is driving DOGE.

Before I go to sleep, and very much against my better judgement, I set alerts for Musk’s posts on X.

This turns out to be a life-changingly fateful decision.

Feb. 5, 2025

11:22 a.m. Doom-scrolling further confirms that Musk must be the administrator of DOGE.

I find Musk replying to a video from a member of Congress requesting a meeting with “Elon Musk’s team in DOGE.” He posts a photo of himself behind a sign labeled “D.O.G.E.” with the caption: “Can I help you?”

But now it’s 3:30 p.m. And I’m at the courthouse, listening to a status conference in Alliance for Retired Americans v. Bessent, one of the cases about DOGE’s access to the Treasury’s payment system. As I said: model legal reporter.

The purpose of the hearing is to set a schedule on the plaintiff’s motion for a preliminary injunction.

But Judge Colleen Kollar-Kotelly is doing a little more than that. She’s in fact-finding mode, grilling a Justice Department attorney named Bradley Humphreys about who, exactly, has access to the payment system.

Humphreys insists Musk does not have access. According to him, only two DOGE affiliates—Marko Elez and Tom Krause—can access the system.

As for Musk? Humphreys says he’s a “special government employee” working in the Executive Office of the President. He’s just “associated” with DOGE.

Associated?

A special government employee is a person who is expected to work in the federal government for a 130-days or less during a one-year period. Special government employees are subject to most government ethics and conflict of interest rules, though “sometimes in a less restrictive way.” It’s a classification usually reserved for consultants and advisory board members—not people who reorganize the government and fire career civil servants en masse.

So Musk is … a temp?

And what does “associated” with DOGE mean? The man is on livestreams announcing that DOGE is axing agencies in real time—but officially, he's just "associated"?

Feb. 7, 2025

11:30 a.m. It turns out that I’m not the only one who is under the impression that Musk might be in charge of DOGE.

“Eagle” Ed Martin, the interim U.S. Attorney for the District of Columbia, says he will open an “inquiry” following a criminal “referral” of certain individuals by Musk. The letter follows a similar letter Martin posted to X earlier this week, in which he vowed to protect “the DOGE work and the DOGE workers.”

Both letters are addressed to “Mr. Elon Musk - DOGE.”

Martin’s letters are weird for a number of reasons. For one thing, he pledges to investigate people for acting “simply unethically,” which itself would be an unethical thing for a prosecutor to do. And he publicly posts the letters “only via X.” Again, not a thing that Justice Department officials usually do.

But, for my purpose, the key fact is that Martin is a high-level Justice Department official who clearly thinks Musk is the principal point of contact for DOGE matters. I guess Humphreys didn’t get the memo ahead of the hearing before Judge Kollar-Kotelly.

I assume that the department will straighten things out during the next DOGE-related hearing.

6:00 p.m. Remember Marko Elez, the DOGE wunderkind with Treasury system access?

Well, he’s out. For a hot second, at least.

The Wall Street Journal reaches out to the White House after discovering Elez’s now-deleted X account, which reportedly featured hits like: “Normalize Indian hate,” “I was racist before it was cool,” and “I just want a eugenic immigration policy, is that too much to ask.”

Within hours, Elez resigns.

But then, Musk posts that Elez “will be brought back.”

Now hang on there, pardner. Leaving aside the merits of having a proud racist and eugenics advocate tear apart the government, hiring and firing and rehiring sure seems like the kind of decision that reflects administration. You know, that’s an action that would only be made by someone who’s—you know—in charge of DOGE.

Also: Musk reposted a meme of himself as the DOGE Grim Reaper knocking on the door of the Department of Education, scythe in hand.

So yeah.

Marko Elez will probably be back. The Department of Education may not be back.

And it’s all up to Elon Musk.

Feb. 13, 2025

I watched the video again—Trump in the Oval Office two days ago, holding court with Musk. At one point, Trump turns to him and says: “And also could you mention some of the things your team has found?”

Musk, for his part, rambles about how DOGE is “maximally transparent”—transparency apparently not including saying what his own role in the organization is. Meanwhile, lawsuits against Musk and DOGE continue piling up.

There are, of course, about a gazillion reasons to assume Musk is in charge.

Exhibit #1988323: DOGE spokesperson Katie Miller recently posted a photo of Trump and Musk on X, writing: “The head of @DOGE and @POTUS in the Oval.”

Yet even as DOGE’s own spokesperson calls Musk the “head” of DOGE, the White House refuses to say whether he holds the title of “Administrator.”

It’s Schrödinger’s bureaucracy.

And it’s driving me slowly and steadily mad.

Part of my obsession is the sheer absurdity of it all: a swarm of twenty-something edgelords gleefully vibe coding the federal government into oblivion, while the world’s richest man live-tweets the whole thing—seemingly calling the shots. And yet no one will say who is really in charge.

But what really keeps me up at night isn’t just the nonsense—it’s the Appointments Clause.

Back in the 18th century, King George III had a fun little habit: inventing powerful government jobs and handing them out to loyalists like they were free samples at Costco. Why? Because he could. He wielded the power to both create and fill government “offices,” which allowed him to send cronies out to the colonies to enforce the crown’s will.

Understandably, the American revolutionaries were like, maybe let’s not do that anymore?

So, when they wrote the Constitution, they built in a safeguard: the Appointments Clause. Article II, Section 2, Clause 2 of the Constitution, which says of the president:

“he shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States, whose Appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law: but the Congress may by Law vest the Appointment of such inferior Officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the Courts of Law, or in the Heads of Departments.”

It’s a mouthful, but the Appointments Clause limits the president’s power in two important ways.

First, it gives Congress—not the president—the power to create federal offices that involve the exercise of significant executive authority (“shall be established by law”). Second, it lays out the rules that must be followed to properly fill those positions.

Specifically, the rules set out in the Appointments Clause only apply to “officers of the United States.” The Supreme Court has interpreted that to mean people who wield “significant authority” as a part of a “continuing” role in the federal government.

Now if you read the text more closely, there are actually two categories of “officers,” and the appointments process can vary depending on how an officer is classified.

Principal officers—think agency heads—must be nominated by the President and confirmed on the advice and consent of the Senate.

The default rule is the same for inferior officers—people who hold powerful positions but not quite as powerful as the agency heads. But Congress is allowed to carve out an exception permitting inferior officers to be appointed by the President alone, or by courts or department heads.

Then there’s the lowest rung on the ladder: mere federal “employees,” who aren’t “officers” at all. They can be hired into an agency through regular human resources channels—no Senate confirmation required.

Once someone’s classified as an “officer,” courts look at several factors to figure out if they’re “principal” or “inferior.” In Edmond v. United States, for example, the Supreme Court stated that “[w]hether one is an ‘inferior’ officer depends on whether he has a superior”—specifically, a superior who is someone other than the president.

So, if you answer directly to the president, and no one else supervises you, and you exercise executive power, you are a principal officer, and your appointment needs Senate confirmation.

I know this all sounds formalistic. Maybe even a little arcane. But that’s kind of the point. Senate confirmation helps prevent the president from packing the executive branch with a bunch of cronies and loyalists (in theory, at least), and it gives the Senate a say over who can actually wield executive power. The Supreme Court has recognized that the Appointments Clause is a “significant structural safeguard” that bolsters political accountability by ensuring that there is a “clear and effective chain of command” within the executive branch.

All of which brings me back to DOGE and its administrator.

Here we have an entity—formed by mere executive order, not any act of Congress—that’s apparently directing policy across nearly every federal agency. Trump’s order calls for that entity to be headed by an administrator. And while no one will say it outright, everything points to that administrator being Musk. 

And, crucially: He seems to be wielding significant authority, including over what happens in other agencies. He seems to hold a “continuing” role as the head of DOGE. He apparently reports to no “superior officer” but the president. And he’s never been nominated by the president or confirmed by the Senate.

If all of that’s true…that’s not just bad vibes.

That’s unconstitutional.

Probably.

The truth is that it’s murky. Because courts have never decided an Appointments Clause case quite like this one.

Most Appointments Clause cases are about whether relatively niche officials—like administrative law judges or special prosecutors—were properly appointed. Even in contested cases, there’s usually no question that the person is acting under color of an official title within an established agency.

DOGE is different.

It’s a repurposed component of the Executive Office of the President, now exerting massive influence across the federal government. The role of “Administrator” exists on paper, but no one has confirmed who fills it. And while Musk continues to publicly act as if it’s him, no one knows Musk’s official employment status—or, for that matter, much of anything at all about the organizational structure and chain of command DOGE.

All of which could pose a problem for the two different groups that decided to file suit against Musk today, alleging that he wields unprecedented, unchecked power over federal agencies in violation of the Appointments Clause. One suit was brought by the state of New Mexico, joined by 13 other states. Another suit was brought by a group of former and current USAID workers.

Each suit alleges that Musk is the de facto—meaning the real—Administrator of DOGE.

It is slowly beginning to dawn on me that my unhinged obsession with several legally critical questions about DOGE is only increasing. It’s like a Borges story, only one in which the labyrinth exists entirely within the org chart of a federal agency that may or may not even exist:

• Who is the administrator of DOGE?
• Is it Musk?
• Is there an administrator of DOGE?
• Is there a DOGE at all?

But, and this is why I can’t stop thinking about it, it is not just a parlor game. It actually does matter. Because if Musk is the Administrator of DOGE, his appointment might violate the Constitution.

And if he’s not, then who the heck is dismantling the federal government and are these actions even legal?

Feb. 14, 2025

That brings you up to speed. We’re back to Valentine’s Day—the day it all clicks. ♥️♥️♥️

If I’m going to do this thing, I’m going to do it right. It’s going to be a full-court press. I’m going to get judges involved. There’s going to be a social media campaign. Maybe a celebrity brand ambassador. Possibly an amicus curiae brief. Definitely some screaming into the digital void. I’m going to be an influencer.

Because here’s the thing:

I didn’t go to Harvard Law School to watch some former classmate tear apart the federal government while his boss stays anonymous.

I didn’t become a legal journalist just to politely nod while Justice Department attorneys who owe an ethical duty of candor to the court basically shrug and tell federal judges that they don’t know who’s in charge of the entity they’re defending.

And I definitely didn’t spend years of my life reporting on the myriad alleged crimes of Donald J. Trump just to sit back and watch him run roughshod over the United States Constitution.

So Happy Valentine’s Day from the Southern District of New York. I don’t need flowers. 💐 I don’t need chocolate.🍫 I need an answer:

WHO IS THE ADMINISTRATOR OF DOGE?

There’s no emoji for that—yet. 

Feb. 18, 2025

The plot thickens.

Yesterday, Judge Tanya Chutkan held a hearing in State of New Mexico v. Musk, which is the suit brought by a coalition of states alleging that Musk and DOGE are operating in violation of the Appointments Clause.

The plaintiffs want the judge to enter a temporary restraining order blocking DOGE from doing things like cancelling contracts or accessing agency databases. Judge Chutkan didn’t immediately rule on the matter, opting instead to ask the government to provide further information about DOGE before she rules.

That information arrived last night in the form of a sworn declaration from Joshua Fisher, director of the Office of Administration at the White House.

In it, Fisher states—under penalty of perjury—that Elon Musk is not the Administrator of DOGE. In fact, he says, Musk is not even an employee of DOGE.

Yes. You read that right.

The man who has called himself and his toddler “DOGE” and “DOGE, Jr.” respectively? Not in charge. Doesn’t even work there.

And because Fisher apparently wants me to die young, he adds this: “Like other senior White House advisors, Mr. Musk has no actual or formal authority to make government decisions himself. Mr. Musk can only advise the President and communicate the President's directives.”

Right. The man who has openly admitted to accidentally cancelling America’s Ebola prevention efforts and who said that he spent the weekend feeding USAID through the woodchipper only has the power to ADVISE and COMMUNICATE. I had thought the early Supreme Court had made clear that the power to feed to a woodchipper is the power to destroy.

Now, this is all very convenient. If Musk isn’t formally in charge, if he’s just advising the president, and if DOGE itself is just “advisory” anyway, then the administration can claim there’s nothing constitutionally fishy going on. No need for Senate confirmation. Nothing to see here. Just a totally normal situation in which the richest man in the world is advising the federal government into oblivion.

Except—come on. Everything else suggests that Musk is in charge.

What’s more, if Musk is not the administrator of DOGE, the central mystery remains entirely unresolved: Who is?

Fisher offers nothing on that.

Neither does the White House. Earlier today, a reporter asked White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt the key question. She dodged it.

Watching the video of her non-response, I did what any mentally stable person would do: I opened Bluesky and sent a post to 225,000 people at 7:47 p.m.:

Minutes later, a text from Lawfare’s redoubtable Managing Editor Tyler McBrien: “Anna u good bro?”

I reply the only way I know how: “WHO IS THE ADMINISTRATOR OF DOGE, TYLER???????”

Translation: No, I am not good, bro.

Feb. 24, 2025

I’ve been asking the question so often over the past week that I have given it an acronym: WITAOD. Pronounced “WIH-toad,” like a Wisconsin amphibian with a penchant for the separation of powers.

Turns out, the masses love an acronym. Tens of people have joined the WITAOD movement. I’m now in my cult leader era. Our mission? Ask: “WITAOD?” All day. Every day. Every chance we get.

It’s been one week since Joshua Fisher claimed that Musk is not the administrator of DOGE—and every sign other than his declaration seems to point to its falsity.

Just two days after Fisher filed his declaration, Trump got up on stage, squinted at the crowd, and said: “I signed an executive order creating the Department of Government Efficiency and put a man named Elon Musk in charge.”

So, now we have an on-the-record contradiction: the president saying one thing, a White House official saying another, and the rest of us—courts, litigants, WITAOD cult leaders—are stuck trying to figure out whom to believe: apparent reality, or the Justice Department’s litigating positions.

And thus does your model legal reporter find herself at another hearing in Judge Kollar-Kotely’s courtroom in Alliance for Retired Americans v. Bessent, one of the suits over DOGE’s access to the Treasury's payment system.

It’s a preliminary injunction hearing, but Judge Kollar-Kotelly is pressing a Justice Department attorney, Bradley Humphreys, on a series of unresolved questions regarding the structure of the organization and the role of Elon Musk.

Humpreys is going to need an executor by the end of this hearing. Because whether she knows it or not, Judge Kollar-Kotelly has joined the WITAOD movement. At one point, she asks Humphreys point blank: “Is there an administrator of DOGE at the present time?”

Humphreys replies: “I don’t know the answer to that.”

I swear I’m not making this up.

The government’s lawyer, standing in open court, admits he doesn’t know who’s in charge of the entity whose actions he is defending in federal court.

Judge Kollar-Kotelly, for her part, is not amused. As she explains:

Based on the record before me, I have some concerns about the constitutionality, frankly, of DOGE’s structure and operations...It appears to me that the people within DOGE could be exercising authority as officers of the United States without complying with the Appointments Clause. I think that’s something that the court should certainly note may be a problem…Maybe it’s not, but on this record we certainly don't have enough information...

Judge Kollar-Kotelly is officially inducted to the WITAOD Hall of Fame.

We still don’t have an answer. My sanity is still hanging by a thread. But for the first time in a long time, it feels like I’m not the only one shouting into the void. Now the courts are asking, too.

WITAOD?

Say it with me.

WITAOD?

Feb. 25, 2025

Just when I thought I might spiral forever into administrator-of-DOGE-induced madness, the White House finally—FINALLY—reveals a name.

It all started this afternoon. During a White House press briefing, a reporter asked about Bradley Humphreys’s now-infamous “I don’t know the answer to that” moment in court with Judge Kollar-Kotelly. “Can you tell us who the administrator of DOGE is?” she asked.

The White House press secretary replied: “I’m not going to reveal the name of that person from this podium…”

Then, minutes after the press briefing ended, the White House emailed reporters with the name of the (alleged) administrator of DOGE. Or, rather, the alleged acting administrator of DOGE.

Ladies and gentlemen of the WITAODing community, I give you the Administrator of DOGE [drumroll].......:

Amy Gleason.

Which probably has you asking the next great question of our time: WHOMST?

The woman the White House claims is tearing apart the federal government is a former emergency room nurse turned healthcare technology consultant who previously served under both President Trump and President Biden at the U.S. Digital Service, which is what DOGE used to be before Trump repurposed it.

According to her LinkedIn, Gleason worked at the U.S. Digital Service from 2018 to 2021. After leaving the White House, she reportedly went to work for a health care firm founded by Brad Smith, who worked on healthcare issues during the first Trump administration and is currently working as one of Musk’s top lieutenants at DOGE.

According to the New York Times, Smith persuaded Gleason to re-join the U.S. Digital Service—soon to be DOGE—at the end of 2024.

And that’s all there is to know.

Case closed. Mystery solved. Administrator identified. Victory for the WITAOD movement.

…Right? 

Feb. 26, 2025

Not so fast, WITAODlings. Keep the celebratory champagne on ice for now.

Because less than 24 hours after the WITAOD movement prematurely declared victory, CNN’s Manu Raju dropped a fresh bombshell. According to his report, White House Chief of Staff Susie Wiles briefed Republican senators on DOGE’s operations during a closed-door meeting earlier today.

What did Wiles say? According to Sen. Josh Hawley (R-Ark.), she claimed that Musk doesn’t answer to any Senate-confirmed agency head. Nope—he works directly with the president.

“Musk is working directly with the president, and the president then works with the cabinet secretaries,” Hawley reportedly said.

But here’s the real kicker: According to Sen. Tommy Tuberville (R-Ala.), Wiles explained Musk’s “procedure, what they do and how they do it … how Elon runs it, how he’s hired people, put them together, where they go, what they’re doing next.”

How Elon runs it.

That sounds an awful lot like classic administrator behavior to me.

So go ahead—pick up your cult follower robes from the cleaners. Because WITAOD isn’t dead. Far from it.

Feb. 28, 2025

Greetings from Greenbelt, Maryland.

Your model legal reporter is here at the federal courthouse, where Judge Theodore Chuang is presiding over a preliminary injunction hearing in Does 1–26 v. Musk, a lawsuit brought by former USAID employees and contractors. Their claim: Musk, acting as the de facto head of DOGE, orchestrated the agency’s shutdown—cutting contracts, locking emails, firing thousands—all without lawful authority, and in violation of the Appointments Clause.

The government is defending itself by insisting that Musk isn’t in charge of DOGE at all. That he’s merely a “senior adviser to the president,” with no actual decision-making authority.

And, conveniently, the White House announced Gleason as the acting administrator of DOGE just three days before this hearing.

So, naturally, Judge Chuang is trying to get some answers about the timeline.

“Who was the head of DOGE before Amy Gleason?” he asks.

“I can’t answer that, I don’t know,” replies Joshua Gardner on behalf of the Justice Department.

Judge Chuang, who looks unimpressed with this response, calls the lack of clarity “highly suspicious.”

“I’m not saying you’re not being candid,” he tells Gardner. “But the whole thing raises questions.”

Then, nodding to the gap between the government’s arguments in court and Musk’s public statements, he adds: “There’s a strange disconnect where [Musk] has referred to himself in public as affiliated with DOGE and not as a senior adviser to the president—until recently, after these lawsuits were filed.”

Note to self: Induct Judge Chuang into the WITAOD Hall of Fame.

March 1, 2025

Saturday morning. Coffee brewing. The world outside is still half-asleep. I sink into my couch and queue up The Joe Rogan Experience—three hours of Elon Musk and a UFC commentator riffing on Mars, AI, and memes.

I endure it—for the cause.

The conversation veers from the gold at Ft. Knox to “Avatar depression,” which, according to Rogan, is depression induced by the realization that you don’t live with tall blue aliens on the fictional planet in Avatar.

Eventually, they get around to DOGE.

And Musk certainly doesn’t talk like a guy who doesn’t even work there.

DOGE “started off with about 40 people, maybe 100 people,” he explains to Rogan. “And we’re really just going through doing very basic things here.”

Then Musk casually describes how he, personally, decides which government programs get axed by DOGE:

We have continued to fund things that appear to be legitimate if there’s even the flimsiest excuse. I just say, like, “Send me a picture of the thing.” You could literally have AI generate the picture. But if you’re not even willing to try to trick me then we’re not going to send the money.

During the entire three-hour interview, one name is conspicuously absent: Amy Gleason.

March 4, 2025

I’m starting to suspect that the president of the United States is intentionally trolling me.

Tonight, during his address to a joint session of Congress, Trump declared on live television: “I have created the brand-new Department of Government Efficiency: DOGE. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. Which is headed by Elon Musk, who is in the gallery tonight.”

Then he gestured at Musk: “He’s working very hard. He didn’t need this.”

Neither did I, Mr. President. Neither did I.

 March 5, 2025

Gleason arrives on Capitol Hill, ready to defend the actions of the organization she runs.

Just kidding. Gleason still hasn’t made a public appearance since the White House revealed her alleged identity as the administrator of DOGE.

So, naturally, Elon Musk shows up on the Hill to address congressional Republicans’ concerns about DOGE’s slash-and-burn approach to governance.

According to multiple outlets, Musk promises to improve communication between DOGE and Republican lawmakers, some of whom have faced blowback for spending cuts attributed to DOGE.

According to Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.), Musk says during the meeting that he would “create a system where members of Congress can call some central group” to get problematic cuts reversed quickly. Some senators are given Musk’s personal cell phone number. And The Washington Post reports that Musk “also urged Congress to codify the cuts his group is making unilaterally, telling lawmakers that he realized that the cuts are not permanent if they are not made into law.”

All totally normal stuff for someone who supposedly doesn’t work at DOGE and who supposedly has no real decision-making authority there.

March 6, 2025

The president of the United States is definitely trolling me. Personally. Vindictively.

The latest confirmation of this? Earlier today, Trump told reporters that “Elon and the group” would be monitoring the cabinet secretaries.

And if the cabinet secretaries didn’t make funding cuts? “Elon will do the cutting,” Trump said.

And still … still … not a single mention of Gleason by Trump or Musk. Not even a nod in the direction of her alleged existence.

I have a sneaking suspicion that neither the president nor Musk has ever heard of her.

March 15, 2025

It’s been nearly a month since the White House gave us the name Amy Gleason as the alleged acting administrator of DOGE.

And yesterday, Gleason filed a sworn declaration in which she claims that she is indeed the person overseeing DOGE. “I currently serve as the Acting Administrator of USDS,” she writes.

As for Musk? Gleason acts as though he’s a total stranger. “Elon Musk does not work at USDS. I do not report to him, and he does not report to me. To my knowledge, he is a Senior Advisor to the White House.”

So, we have a sworn statement from Gleason that she is the administrator of DOGE. But somehow, I feel like we—I and the approximately 17 people who make up the WITAOD movement—are right back at square one.

For starters, there’s the vacation. After the White House revealed Gleason’s name on Feb. 25, reporters tried to contact her. But she reportedly said she was on vacation in Mexico at the time. Which, fine, everyone deserves a break. But it’s a curious moment to hit the beach when you're supposedly heading up the organization that’s nuking the federal government.

More unsettling is that a handful of people who work with or at DOGE say they’ve never even heard of her. One official that has worked closely with DOGE told ProPublica: “I don’t know who Amy Gleason even is.”

There’s also the small matter of geography: Gleason is reportedly based in Nashville. Which is, well, not where DOGE is busy pillaging federal agencies. It’s not where Musk or Smith or any of the apparent power players are operating. Is she remote-working the revolution? Or maybe—just maybe—her appointment is more symbolic than operational, a little de jure ruse to complement the Musk de facto reality.

The timeline’s murky, too. “I joined USDS on December 30, 2024,” Gleason writes in her declaration. But she conspicuously omits the date of her appointment as the USDS acting administrator. When exactly did she take the job? Was there a predecessor? If not, who was in charge when DOGE dismantled USAID?

Then there are the public statements that undercut the government’s claims in court that Gleason, not Musk, is in charge.

So, sure, here we are a month later. They gave us a name. But we still don’t know if Gleason is actually running DOGE. Or if she’s just a figurehead, put there to have a formal administrator who is not Musk.

Gleason says she’s in charge. The president says Musk is in charge. Musk acts like he’s in charge. Courts are trying to figure it out. And nobody—not even the government’s own attorneys—seems able to give a coherent answer.

Which is why the WITAOD question—nay, the WITAOD movement—isn’t going anywhere.

Because this question—who is the real administrator of DOGE?—is central to every Appointments Clause case challenging the actions of DOGE or Musk. Should the acronym be WITRAOD? Maybe. But it's too late now. WITAOD has become a proxy for a broader set of questions: Is DOGE really just advising? What kind of power does Musk actually wield? What’s the organizational structure and chain of command at DOGE?

But getting real answers to those questions isn’t just crucial in the Appointments Clause suits. They’re also relevant in litigation over whether DOGE is a federal agency or merely an “advisory” body not subject to the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA). What’s more, they implicate professional ethics rules, too—rules that obligate government lawyers not to mislead federal judges about who is really in charge or how DOGE really operates.

The WITAOD watch continues.

March 18, 2025

BREAKING: The WITAOD movement is vindicated! (Sort of.)

Judge Chuang has just dropped his ruling on the plaintiffs’ request for a preliminary injunction in the Does 1–26 v. Musk case—the lawsuit brought by ex-USAID employees who woke up one day to find their government agency had been yeeted into oblivion by an entity named after a memecoin and a billionaire with a Twitter addiction.

The motion? GRANTED. (Okay, partially—but still. GRANTED.)

The big takeaway is that Judge Chuang finds that Musk and DOGE’s unilateral shutdown of USAID “likely violated the United States Constitution.”

Why?

A refresher: under the Appointments Clause, anyone exercising “significant authority” in a continuous capacity—that is, as an “Officer of the United States”—must be appointed properly. That usually means nomination by the president and confirmation by the Senate. Congress can authorize alternative appointments for inferior officers, but it hasn’t done so for the role at issue in this case: the administrator of DOGE.

The core questions at issue: Was Musk acting as the head of DOGE when USAID was shut down? If so, was he acting as an “Officer of the United States?”

Judge Chuang’s take: Yes and yes. He found that Musk has been running DOGE in practice, regardless of what his title says—and that he’s an “officer” subject to the Appointments Clause. Since he was never confirmed by the Senate, that’s likely unconstitutional, according to Judge Chuang. In his opinion, he wrote:

Musk was, at a minimum, likely the official performing the duties and functions of the USDS Administrator. Even if viewed from the standpoint of the Senior Advisor position he occupies on paper, the record of his activities to date establish that his role has been and will continue to be as the leader of DOGE, with the same duties and degree of continuity as if he was formally in that position…

Now, before the WITAOD cult declares total victory, this isn’t a full win for the plaintiffs. The judge finds that some of the actions taken by Musk and DOGE had later been ratified by government officials with proper authority—namely, Secretary Rubio and Acting USAID Administrator Marocco. For the decisions that weren’t ratified—like shuttering the USAID headquarters—Chuang gives the government 14 days to file paperwork from a constitutionally competent officer ratifying those actions.

But he does grant some relief, ordering DOGE to restore email access for some USAID staff, prepare to reopen USAID headquarters, and stop firing any more personnel.

This is a partial win for the plaintiffs—but a significant one.

For the WITAOD community? It’s vindication.

March 19, 2025

Well, well, well.

Elon Musk’s own lawyers just filed a letter to a federal judge in Delaware stating that Musk is “in charge of Establishing and Implementing the President's Department of Government Efficiency.”

An admission so damning that, in my humble opinion, it deserves to be quoted on a future WITAOD mug or commemorative t-shirt.

The statement didn’t surface in a DOGE-related suit. It arose in a case called Arnold v. X Corp., which was brought by former X employees who were fired after Musk acquired the company in 2022.

Now, in opposing the plaintiffs’ request to depose Musk, his lawyers argue that it would be unduly burdensome to compel the richest man in the world to sit for a deposition. Why? Because, among other reasons, he’s a “high-ranking government official”—namely, the official “in charge of Establishing and Implementing the President's Department of Government Efficiency.”

Let that sink in.

March 28, 2025

Womp, womp, womp.

A three-judge panel on the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals just put Judge Chuang’s injunction in the USAID case on hold.

Two conservative judges—Judge A. Marvin Quattlebaum, Jr. and Judge Paul Niemeyer—say the evidence shows that Musk “acted as a Senior Advisor to the president and not as the Administrator of DOGE…”.

And if he’s just advising, there’s no need for Senate confirmation.

A third judge on the panel—Judge Roger Gregory—sided with Judge Chuang on the “who leads DOGE” question. He says that Musk’s role as de facto administrator of DOGE is “robust and ongoing” and likely violates the Appointments Clause.

Still, Judge Gregory has a different issue: the plaintiffs named the wrong defendants. They had sued Musk and DOGE—but not USAID, the agency that technically has the power to restore email access or reopen the building or reinstate fired workers.

The Fourth Circuit stay order almost certainly won’t be the last word on the Appointments Clause and the question of whether Musk really is in charge of DOGE. Though the injunction is on hold for now, the litigation is far from over. And there are other Appointments Clause suits before other courts—most notably, a case brought by New Mexico and 13 other states that is pending before Judge Tanya Chutkan in Washington, D.C.

In each of these cases, there will be a motion to dismiss. A motion for summary judgement. Discovery. And, eventually, there might even be a trial—a trial that will hinge in part on WITAOD.

April 18, 2025

The plot thickens (again): We have a new suspect.

Well, sort of.

In a deposition that just hit the docket in AFL-CIO v. Department of Labor—one of several lawsuits challenging DOGE’s access to sensitive federal information systems—a new name entered the WITAOD Cinematic Universe: Steve Davis.

The testimony came from Kendall Lindemann, who was deposed as a Rule 30(b)(6) witness on behalf of the U.S. DOGE Service. Like Gleason, Lindemann previously worked for Russell Street Ventures, the healthcare investment company owned by Brad Smith, one of “Musk’s top advisers” at DOGE.

Lindemann reiterated the official party line: Gleason is DOGE’s current acting administrator. But she also confirmed a detail that fills in a critical blank in the WITAOD timeline: Gleason wasn’t appointed until February 18—one day after White House official Joshua Fisher publicly denied that Musk is the administrator of DOGE.

So who was running DOGE before Feb. 18?

According to Lindemann, no one formally held the administrator title from Feb. 5 to Feb. 18. And she didn’t specify who, if anyone, served as the administrator prior to Feb. 5, when the plaintiffs in AFL-CIO filed their case.

It’s an important revelation because the legality of a whole lot of the activities carried out by DOGE hinge on the period before Gleason was appointed—a window of time in which, according to Lindemann, there was no administrator.

Still, when pressed to say who exercised administrator authority during the gap prior to Gleason’s appointment, Lindemann named Davis: “At the time, Steve Davis was the senior-most political advisor,” she said. “And so there were some decisions, for example, that he authorized and that Amy Gleason later ratified.”

Davis is a longtime Musk ally and former engineer who, according to the New York Times, “has devoted himself to fulfilling Mr. Musk’s desires, following the billionaire to his various companies, including the rocket maker SpaceX and the social media platform X.” Davis’s devotion to Musk apparently led him to DOGE.

And Lindemann isn’t the only one who has described Davis as a leader of sorts at DOGE. In a sworn declaration filed in a different case, Tracy Flick, a recently retired Social Security official, referred to him as “DOGE manager Steve Davis.”

During her deposition, Lindemann said that Davis now reports to Gleason. But when asked whether Gleason had ever directed Davis in any meaningful way, Justice Department attorney Bradley Humphreys stepped in, objecting and instructing the witness not to answer. After an off-record sidebar, plaintiffs’ counsel tried again: “Are you aware of directives that Amy Gleason has given to Steve Davis?”

Lindemann’s reply: “I'm not privy to every communication that Steve and Amy have between one another,” she said. “But I do know that Steve reports to Amy and she has formal authority over him.”

“Formal authority.” Lindemann used that exact phrase multiple times to describe Gleason’s status. Not actual authority. Formal authority.

So the WITAOD movement’s core question persists: Does Amy Gleason actually run DOGE, or is she just a name on a PDF?

And as for Steve Davis? Sure, he might seem like a plausible leader to step in during a purported power vacuum at DOGE. At the very least, the government doesn’t deny that he actually works there. Government employees seem to know that he exists. He’s not based in Nashville. And, as far as I’m aware, he didn’t go AWOL to Mexico while his team took a wrecking ball to the federal government.

But even Davis could be just another decoy—someone to name in court who isn’t Musk.

The WITAOD saga continues.

May 1, 2025

It’s 10:51 p.m. I should be asleep. Instead: doom-scrolling. My thumb pauses on a new post from the official Department of Government Efficiency account on X: “Interview with the DOGE team.”

Against my better judgement, I click.

It’s a video of Jesse Watters, the Fox News host, sitting down for a late-night chat with “the DOGE team.”

“Elon Musk was nice enough to invite us into the Eisenhower Building last night to sit in on his weekly 10 p.m. DOGE meeting,” Watters explains. “Yeah, they usually meet at 10 o’clock.”

“We met the whole crew,” Watters continues. “And they showed us how DOGE really gets done.”

The video cuts to Watters seated at a long conference table with Musk and more than a dozen DOGE team members. The chyron screams: PRIMETIME GOES INSIDE DOGE HQ.

Musk kicks off the meeting: “Alright, well, I guess we normally go around the table and say what did we get done this week,” Musk says as he begins the meeting.

Steve Davis, seated to Musk’s left, goes first. He claims that DOGE made “a lot of great work at the Treasury this week.”

I keep watching. For journalism. For WITAOD. And it’s painfully obvious who’s running the show. It’s not Davis, the latest decoy administrator. It’s definitely not Gleason—she’s not even in the room. It’s Musk.

But things could soon get even murkier, because Musk says he’s stepping back from leading the thing he never officially led.

He made the announcement late last month during a Tesla earnings call. Some have speculated that he wants to re-focus on his electric car company, which has seen its stock plummet amid backlash to DOGE. Or his departure might have something to do with his “special government employee” designation, which technically limits his work in government to no more than 130 days of employment within a 1-year period.

Whatever the reason, Musk claims that he’s reducing his time at DOGE.

And yesterday’s cabinet meeting served as his unofficial goodbye party. “You’ve done an incredible job,” the president gushed of Musk, who sported a black “DOGE” hat underneath a bright-red “Gulf of America” hat.

“$150 billion,” Trump continued. “That number could be doubled. And even tripled. But you’ve done a fantastic job, and we appreciate it very much, Elon.”

Secretary of Agriculture Brooke Rollins then chimed in: “We’ve canceled $6 billion in contracts thanks to our great friend Elon Musk and his DOGE team.”

Not thanked: Amy Gleason.

Not mentioned: Amy Gleason.

Not even there: Amy Gleason.

Later, when a group of reporters asked Musk who would succeed him as the leader of DOGE—which, again, he supposedly doesn’t lead—Musk replied: “It’s a way of life, like Buddhism. You wouldn’t ask who would lead Buddhism.”

Sir, please. Buddhism didn’t accidentally cancel America’s Ebola prevention funding.

And besides, what is His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso? Chopped liver?

But let’s be real: Musk’s “departure” might just be optics. He hasn’t said he’s stepping away completely—only that he’s reducing his time at DOGE. And without transparency around DOGE’s leadership structure, who’s to say Musk won’t continue calling the shots from the sidelines? His refusal to name a successor—or to even acknowledge Amy Gleason’s general existence—only fuels that uncertainty.

What’s more, questions surrounding the legality of Musk’s prior actions don’t evaporate even if he does scale back his time at DOGE. If he violated the Appointments Clause, then the decisions he made—or directed—while leading DOGE could still be set aside unless properly ratified by a constitutionally authorized official.

So, no, the WITAOD question isn’t going anywhere. It’s just shifting tense. If Musk is out of the picture, courts might not ask “who is the administrator of DOGE?” But they’ll sure as hell keep asking “who was the administrator of DOGE?”

And you can bet that I, America’s #1 “Who Is The Administrator of DOGE?” reporter, will be on the case.

May 21, 2025

Mark it down. May 21. Today is the day WITAOD made it to the Supreme Court.

The reason why has something to do with the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA). For months now, the government has claimed that DOGE is not an “agency” subject to FOIA because it’s a presidential advisory body. Presidential advisory bodies are typically exempt from FOIA’s transparency requirements unless they wield “substantial independent authority.”

A government accountability group, CREW, sued the U.S. DOGE Service after it refused to process its records request. After Judge Christopher Cooper initially found that DOGE likely is an “agency” subject to FOIA, the government moved for summary judgement, reiterating its position that DOGE is merely an advisory body. In response, CREW sought limited discovery on information relevant to the question of whether DOGE wields “substantial independent authority.”

On April 15, Judge Cooper granted CREW’s request. Among other things, the order compelled the deposition testimony of Amy Gleason, who filed a declaration in support of DOGE’s motion for summary judgement. Judge Cooper noted that parts of Gleason’s declaration appear to be “called into question by contradictory evidence in the record.”

Judge Cooper, welcome to the movement.

Anyway, the government then went to the D.C. Cir. Court of Appeals, seeking to stave off Gleason’s deposition and discovery productions required by Judge Cooper’s order.

The appeals court said: No.

All of which is why, just moments ago, Solicitor General John Sauer filed an emergency application with the Supreme Court.

In the brief, Sauer reiterates the argument that the U.S. DOGE Service is merely an advisory body—and claims that Judge Cooper’s order “clearly violates the separation of powers, subjecting a presidential advisory body to intrusive discovery and threatening the confidentiality and candor of its advice.”

But here’s the real kicker: Sauer represents to the United States Supreme Court that Musk is “not part of” the U.S. DOGE Service.

“Not part of.”

He just runs the meetings, speaks on behalf of DOGE, posts AI pictures of himself carrying a “DOGEFATHER” badge, wears a DOGE hat, gets thanked by the president for $150 billion in DOGE savings, and is referred to as the head of DOGE by virtually everyone except any government attorney who happens to be standing at a lectern in front of a federal judge.

Now, to the solicitor general’s credit, he claims that “DOGE” is an umbrella term for a broader executive-wide DOGE initiative, not the U.S. DOGE Service specifically. So, he might be suggesting that Musk is affiliated with that broader initiative, but not necessarily with the U.S. DOGE Service itself.

Here’s the problem: In his brief, Sauer himself acknowledges that the order establishing DOGE defines the “DOGE Structure” as three things:

• (1) The U.S. DOGE Service,
• (2) A sub-component of the U.S. DOGE Service, called the “U.S. DOGE Service Temporary Organization,” and
• (3) DOGE Teams embedded at the agency level.

That’s it. The whole enchilada. And the government has claimed elsewhere that Musk isn’t in charge of any of them. Amy Gleason supposedly has “formal authority” over the U.S. DOGE Service and the Temporary Organization. The agency heads are allegedly in charge of the DOGE Teams.

At the same time: Musk’s lawyers filed a letter in federal court in Delaware stating that he is “in charge of Establishing and Implementing the President's Department of Government Efficiency”—and then linked to the executive order establishing the “DOGE Structure” listed above. And Trump himself referred to the executive order on Feb. 11, stating: “I signed an executive order creating the Department of Government Efficiency and put a man named Elon Musk in charge.”

So, to review:

• The executive order Trump signed on Jan. 20 created DOGE.
• In that order, DOGE is defined as the U.S. DOGE service, a subcomponent of the U.S. DOGE Service, and the agency DOGE teams.
• Musk’s lawyers say Musk is in charge of what the executive order created.
• Trump says Musk is in charge of what the executive order created.
• But the Solicitor General now claims that Musk is “not part of” what the executive order created.

Cool, cool. Totally coherent.

Chief Justice John Roberts, are you reading this? What about you, Justice Amy Coney Barrett?

If you’re out there: Welcome to the WITAOD movement.

We saved you a seat.

May 27, 2025

BREAKING WITAOD NEWS: Judge Tanya Chutkan just DENIED the government’s motion to dismiss in State of New Mexico v. Musk.

You remember the case: A coalition of state attorneys general brought suit the day before Valentine’s Day–the day before my descent into madness really kicked into high gear. They alleged that Musk, as the leader of DOGE, exercises unchecked power in violation of the Appointments Clause of the Constitution.

After initially denying a temporary restraining order, Chutkan granted discovery, allowing the plaintiffs to subpoena documents and investigate DOGE’s chain of command. But then the D.C. Circuit stepped in, halting discovery until Chutkan rules on the government’s motion to dismiss.

And today, Judge Chutkan finally ruled: The states’ case against Musk and DOGE can proceed.

The opinion doesn’t resolve the key factual disputes—especially those involving issues at the heart of the WITAOD movement, including “Elon Musk’s role, authority, and conduct within the federal government.” As Judge Chutkan explained, a district court considering a Rule 12(b)(6) motion to dismiss must “assume the truth of all material factual allegations in the complaint.” So this wasn’t about what happened—it was about whether the facts, if true, sufficiently allege an Appointments Clause violation.

Judge Chutkan said they did.

Even at this early stage, her ruling is a significant constitutional marker. Judge Chutkan concluded that the leader of DOGE performs duties that are “continuing and permanent, not occasional or temporary”—a key indicator in determining whether the role may qualify as an “officer of the United States.”

And she flatly rejected the government’s argument that an Appointments Clause violation turns exclusively on the de jure, not de facto, authority a person wields as a matter of law. The government essentially argued that informal power wielded outside the confines of a congressionally-established office is beyond the checks and balances of the Appointments Clause. As Judge Chutkan explained:

Under this reasoning, the President could authorize an individual to act as a Prime Minister who vetoes, amends, or adopts legislation enacted by Congress, as an Ultimate Justice who unilaterally overrules any decision by the Supreme Court, as a King who exercises preeminent authority over the entire nation, or allow a foreign leader to direct American armed forces without violating the Appointments Clause.

Judge Chutkan, welcome to the WITAOD movement.

Bigger legal battles still lie ahead for the plaintiffs, as the government is likely to appeal this decision. And Judge Chutkan’s order raises a tricky issue that could complicate the prospect of retrospective relief in any Appointments Clause case: ratification.

You see, appeals courts have suggested that an Appointments Clause violation can be “cured” through ratification—that is, a lawfully appointed official signing off on decisions made by an unlawfully appointed one. That’s why, in the USAID case, Judge Chuang’s preliminary injunction order gave the government an opportunity to ratify some of the decisions that were made by Musk or DOGE. Judge Chutkan, for her part, noted that the court “lacks a factual record” at this juncture to accept the government’s claim that a duly appointed official ratified all of the contested action.

As the cases proceed, however, the so-called “ratification” doctrine could limit the availability of retrospective relief for the plaintiffs as the Appointments Clause litigation continues. But it’s not entirely clear. Can an authorized official just rubber stamp actions taken by DOGE? Does there have to be some additional process or meaningful deliberation by the appropriate official? Will agency officials actually be willing to retroactively bless some of DOGE’s more controversial decisions? What if the agency officials only signed off on DOGE directives under threats and intimidation, as the State of New Mexico plaintiffs allege?

The answers to those questions will depend on the facts, the appeals courts, and, at some point, probably the Supreme Court.

But today? Today is a good day for the WITAOD faithful. Because yet another federal judge has acknowledged in court that the WITAOD question isn’t just the province of one slightly unhinged legal reporter and her tens of cult followers. It’s central to whether any of this is lawful.

May 28, 2025

Things end as they began: me, doom-scrolling. At 8:01 p.m., I get an alert. It’s a new Musk post on X:

A farewell to DOGE from a man who never officially worked at DOGE, never had decision-making authority at DOGE, and definitely never led the U.S. DOGE Service.

So what now? Do we call it? Hang up our cult robes, delete the Twitter alerts? Is this the end of WITAOD?

No.

Because WITAOD is not a movement only concerned with the present. Who was the administrator of DOGE when DOGE dismantled USAID? When it accessed the Treasury payment system? When it laid off federal workers en masse?

And if anything, Musk’s apparent departure only deepens the mystery.

For months, one of the clearest signs that Musk was running DOGE was the fact that he kept saying so—even as the government’s lawyers swore he wasn’t. Now, at least, they agree: Musk is no longer part of DOGE.

But if we’re finally sure that Musk is not the administrator of DOGE now, we’re still no closer to knowing who really is.

So, sure, it might be obsessive. It might be a little unhinged. But I’m going to keep shouting “WITAOD?” into the void.

Because someone has to.