The DOGE Bros' Vision, Part I

Their goal isn't to change government, it's to remake society

There has been a lot in the news lately about the DOGE Bros’ supposed mission to make government more efficient. It’s part of a long-time American executive suite obsession with efficiency. The same “efficiency” that led to just in time supply chains that collapsed during covid. The same “efficiency” that gutted American production and made us reliant on adversarial states for literally everything. Did you know we can’t even print the dollar bill without inputs from China? That’s right, during the Trump tariff hearings the guy who makes the ink for the dollar bill said it can’t be done without China. We also can’t print bibles or make prom dresses or build most of our weapon systems.

The obsession with efficiency isn’t about improving society or American greatness. It’s not about better products or innovation. It’s about monopoly and monopsony power, pitting workers against one another, and transferring wealth from society to shareholders.

This will be a two part Substack. Today, I’m going to do something a little different and show you how the DOGE Bros’ vision culminates. Let me know in the comments if you like this type of thing or not, and please continue to share it with anyone you think might find it interesting.

In Part II, I’ll talk about how the nuts and bolts behind this plan and how we can tweak the law and the vision to still move forward as a society without destroying the lives of everyday people.

---

Their Vision

“Good Morning, Hal.”

“Morning, Franklin,” replied the security guard as Franklin strode through the front door, “you ready for your big day?”

“You bet I am,” Franklin said, cheerfully. He enjoyed seeing Hal in the mornings. They reminded him of the old days, before work was so lonely.

“That’s good, that’s good,” said Hal, “I’m not gonna lie, you seemed a little nervous last week.”

“Nervous?” Franklin feigned shock. “Hah.” Then he leaned in, as if they weren’t the only two people in the building and he were telling Hal a secret. “Try terrified, my friend. There was no way to make this place look sharp in time.”

“But you did, didn’t you, Mr. Rockstar Bossguy?” said Hal.

Franklin snorted. He never had taken a compliment well.

“I’m not your boss, Hal. And besides, you know I couldn’t have done it without you and Parker.”

Parker, the other security guard, was outside making his rounds.

“Don’t mention it,” Hal said. After a short pause, he added, somewhat seriously: “I mean really, man, please don’t mention it. No telling what they would think about us going in there and helping you out, you know?”

“I know, Hal, come on.” Franklin rolled his eyes.

Hal nodded. They shook hands. Franklin walked past him to a set of long glass sliding doors. Large block letters were etched across the dark glass. Six feet tall. A L P H A.

The letters were imposing. Ivory white on the smoky gray glass. Franklin didn’t notice, though. For nineteen years he had been walking through one set of Alpha doors or another. He and Alpha were a part of each other.

Franklin held his access card up to the reader. It beeped. The doors slid open. Franklin looked over at Hal.

“Remind Parker I’ve got pizza tonight,” Franklin said.

“You got it, Franklin,” Hal replied.

Franklin started walking through the doors.

“Hey, Franklin,” Hal called, just before Franklin disappeared.

“Yeah?”

“Take it easy, man, it’s gonna go great,” Hal said. “They love you. You are Middle City. You work day and night for these guys. They know it, they track that badge.” Hal pointed to the access card hanging around Franklin’s neck.

“Thanks, Hal,” Franklin said, nodding. “But we’re still not getting Hawaiian pizza.”

Hal howled. Franklin stepped through the doors and into his temple of work.

This facility, in Middle City, had been Alpha’s first rural distribution center. The once-sleepy town had grown up around it. For years, its workers had buzzed all through building. As Alpha grew, the facility became one of its crown achievements.

Efficiency was the end-state. Alpha’s engineers and its local employees had worked hand in hand to make it so. Innovation was rewarded. Together, the engineers and workers had improved processes, designed better workflows, and created something wonderful. Eventually, as the facility incorporated more technology and automation, workers no longer needed to buzz through the building. They consolidated into nodes on the floor where they partnered with and oversaw the machines who began doing much of the work.

Two years ago, Alpha made headlines when it renovated the Middle City facility. With Franklin as the local labor lead, they transformed it into the distribution center of the future. Fully automated. It was touted in newscasts around the country as the beginning of man’s unburdening from labor. The first step on the path to utopia. Workers were removed from the floor entirely. Those who remained were pooled in a massive room, called ‘the hub,’ at the front of the building.

Franklin now stood in that dimly lit hub. Directly across the room was the primary source of light: a massive glass wall that overlooked the facility. Alpha’s doors whooshed closed behind him. Franklin walked across the empty floor to that wall and looked out. On the other side, in its full glory, was his facility of the future.

Goods and packages swept this way and that, faster than any human could run. Machines whirred and hummed in perfect uninterrupted harmony. In the hub, however, where Franklin stood it was eerily still. He conducted a quick visual inspection of the facility every morning through the glass, although technically it was no longer required. Today he lingered a moment longer than usual. Looking out, he was proud. He had helped create this magnificent symphony of human ingenuity.

When they first transitioned to the hub, workers’ stations had lined that glass wall. He and his teammates had watched and evaluated the machines on screens, and through the windows, fine-tuning their creation. One by one, as kinds were smoothed out and his former co-workers were no longer needed, their stations were removed.

It had been hard to see them go. At one point, when he realized that everyone would eventually have to go but him, he had begged Alpha to let him keep just a small crew. Unfortunately, it was the way of the future, they had said, there was nothing they could do. Franklin knew it was true. But that hadn’t lessened the sting. With Hal and Parker’s help he had pulled out the last station just last week. No one had sat in it for months.

Franklin turned from the wall and walked over to the last remaining work area, his work area: the master control station in the middle of the room. He pressed his thumb down on a red light. It flashed green. Immediately, the hub flooded with color. Light danced into the darkest corners of the room. Information and status on every system flooded the glass wall, which doubled as a heads up display, between him and the facility. Diagnostics, statistics, read-outs—all scrolled quickly across portions of the screen.

Franklin didn’t look up or try to read it. He couldn’t have kept up. It took twenty people to decode that screen. But it was ok. As staff dwindled, they had worked around the problem. Alpha programmers created AI algorithms to analyze the data and distribute tasks, directing the machines as necessary. When that became too slow, the AI algorithms began writing their own AI algorithms. The glass display had become a relic. Franklin had spent the last four months working with the executive computer to create and fine-tune a digestible human report for the executive suite. He had finally completed it late last week. Which was why he was getting a visitor today.

Franklin swiped a hand across the table top. His report popped up. One line: All systems fully functional. He tapped to expand it. A short list of automatic corrections and adjustments made overnight popped up and a second report generated: No need for human intervention.

He swiped to the day’s agenda. There was just one item: Regional Manager of Distribution Automation, On Location, 0900.

Franklin smiled. Margaret was coming by to congratulate him in person on their achievement. She always did. She had been his boss for many years, and they made a great team. Franklin looked forward to her visits, which had become fewer and fewer over the last couple of years. Before she arrived, he decided re-read the month’s reports. He pulled up the first one and set himself to it.

“Franklin!” Hal’s voice floated out of a speaker on the master station, jerking Franklin up from his reports. “Margaret just pulled in.”

“Thanks, Hal, coming!” Franklin replied. He cleared out the reports, reset the screen, and walked briskly to the doors. Franklin shot through just as they opened from the other side. He glimpsed a swish of brown hair as a panicked set of eyes turned toward him. Franklin couldn’t stop. He tried to veer right, but Margaret dodged the same way and he crashed awkwardly into her.

“I’m so sorry, Margaret,” Franklin apologized, picking up a manila folder he had knocked out of her bag. “A little bird told me you had just pulled in,” Franklin looked sideways at Hal. “I didn’t realize that meant you were coming through the doors, though!”

Hal shrugged an apology.

Franklin winked at Margaret. Nodding at Hal, he quipped, “I wonder if we could design something for that job, too. What do you think?”

Hal shook his head but didn’t bite on the joke.

Margaret took the envelope back and gave Franklin a small smile. “It’s good to see you Franklin,” she said quietly, shaking his hand, “It’s been too long.”

“It sure has,” Franklin said, “Come on in. It’s about time you saw the hub again. I bet it’s bigger than you remember.”

Franklin gestured toward Hal.

“He’s irreplaceable, you know?” Franklin said to Margaret, just in case. “He really is.”

“I know,” said Margaret.

Franklin paused. Margaret was usually so excited to get out to Middle City. Things had been too stressful lately. She would feel better when she saw their work in action.

“Alright, come on, let’s knock this out,” Franklin said to Margaret.

Margaret nodded and went through the doors. Franklin followed her through.

Margaret stopped just inside the door. She took a moment to take in the room.

“It feels so empty now,” she said.

“You haven’t been here since we pulled out the last few stations, have you?” Franklin asked.

Margaret shook her head.

“We’ve still got one, though,” Franklin said, pointing at the master control center, “your old post. Shall we?”

Margaret nodded. They walked over to the controls and skimmed through the reports, ending with the final simple perfected one. Franklin talked about this tweak and the other but couldn’t help thinking that Margaret seemed distracted. He figured she was bored. They had gone over these things remotely so many times already.

“Margaret?” Franklin asked.

“Yes?”

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You’ve seen these things a million times. You know them better than I do. They haven’t changed. Everything is good.”

Margaret looked up from the screen.

“Franklin,” she began, “I don’t know what to say.”

She thought for a moment, then continued.

“You did it. You really did it.”

“No, no, no.” Franklin shook his head vigorously. “We all did it. These last few years. You most of all. It was your vision. I just turned the wrenches.”

Margaret laughed wryly.

“No, Franklin, I won’t take credit for it.”

“Suit yourself,” Franklin shrugged, “But I heard the board was ecstatic.”

“Yes,” said Margaret, “Yes they were.”

She didn’t say anything more. The two sat in silence. They watched the machines move swiftly behind the window.

“Margaret?” Franklin finally asked.

“Yes?”

“I was… well… I was hoping…” He trailed off.

Margaret waited patiently.

“...My boys are getting older, you know.”

Margaret nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the machines.

“I’ve put so much into this,” he gestured around the room, “That I… well… I missed a lot.”

Franklin looked at her. Margaret’s eyes stayed locked on the machines. Franklin took a deep breath. Then, he let it all spill out.

“I’m thinking, well, hoping really, that now that we’ve got this running, I could take a week or two off, you know?” He interrupted himself, ALPHA was a fierce workplace, “I mean, not necessarily right away. Unless that works. Maybe in a couple of weeks. Or a month. Their mom takes great care of them. But it would be good for them to spend some time with their dad.”

Margaret remained silent.

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Franklin added. “This place can basically run itself,” he assured her. It really could, especially with the contracted maintenance and repairs. He felt another moment of pride, thinking of what they had accomplished.

Margaret looked down at her hands. His pride faded. He felt a tweak in his stomach.

“Margaret?” He asked, concerned. “I don’t have to. I could just take a day here or there or something.”

Margaret shook her head. He furrowed his brow and leaned forward, trying to meet her eyes. She looked up. Her eyes were sad. She had taken the hub’s transformation harder than he had predicted.

“I don’t want to let you down,” he added cautiously.

Her expression steeled.

“Franklin,” she said firmly, “you could never let me down.”

“OK, well,” her bluntness embarrassed him, “I mean, I don’t want to let the company down. If they need me, you know. Alpha has always said we are family. I’ve already let my other family down. Many times, I suppose. But always for my Alpha family. So at least I didn’t let both down.”

Margaret’s jaw tightened.

“Franklin,” she said, “You were right. About the board. They were ecstatic. This facility far exceeded everyone’s expectations.”

Franklin smiled cautiously. That was good to hear, he thought.

Margaret reached into her bag and pulled out the manila envelope he had knocked out of it earlier.

“They asked me to give this to you.”

She handed the envelope to him.

Franklin took the envelope. Another certificate or letter of commendation or something. It was nice, but he had a stack of those already. The thought of spending time with his children pulled at the back of his mind.

“Thanks, Margaret,” he said, setting the envelope onto the control panel. He needed to figure out when he could take the time.

Margaret picked the envelope up from the control panel and handed it back to him.

“You need to open it,” she said.

“Ok…” Franklin replied, furrowing his brow. He quickly brushed aside a feeling of uneasiness. Maybe it was a time off award and this was her way of telling him he could take the time. He had sold so many of them back to the company over the years.

Franklin felt her hand lay gently upon his. His arm tingled at the unexpected touch.

Margaret looked him directly in the eye.

“It’s your severance,” she said.

Franklin blinked.

“My—“ He stammered, “My what?”

“Your severance,” she repeated.

A stream of thoughts tore through his head. There was so much to say. ALPHA was everything to him. He had built this place. Sacrificed his family. This wasn’t how he wanted to see them. What would he say? But nothing came out. He blinked hard and turned away so Margaret couldn’t see.

He looked through the window, out into the only life he had ever known. The machines hummed along effortlessly. And they would continue to. Without him.

From the corner of his eye he caught Margaret’s head give a quick shake. He turned to look behind him. Hal and Parker stood in the doorway. His escort?! A terrible thought rushed into Franklin’s head.

“You knew?” Franklin accused them. He raised his voice “You KNEW?”

Franklin started to walk toward them. They went rigid. They had known this whole time and hadn’t told him, he thought.

“Franklin,” Margaret said softly behind him.

Franklin ignored her.

“This is how it’s going to be?” He yelled painfully at Hal. “You’re going to drag me out of here?! To protect what?! There’s nothing here anymore!”

Hal frowned. He looked heart-broken, Franklin thought fleetingly. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Franklin,” Margaret said firmly. He felt her hand on his shoulder. He spun around. He heard Hal and Parker shift behind him.

Margaret shook her head again and angled it toward the door.

“Ma’am?” Hal asked, tentatively.

“Franklin,” she said, looking him directly in the eye. “They didn’t know until I got here.”

Franklin took a deep breath. He exhaled. He heard the doors open behind him. But he didn’t hear them close. He turned around. Hal stood in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, Franklin,” Hal said solemnly, “You’re a good man.”

Franklin looked blankly back at him, but said nothing. Hal stepped away. The doors closed. Franklin felt ashamed. He turned back to Margaret.

“Why?” He asked sadly.

“You said it yourself. This place can run itself now. The board has to look out for the shareholder. These machines are cheaper and more efficient than the best human. Even you.”

Franklin shook his head. He had been a fool. He had watched the others go. Had watched their lives fall apart. Had cried with them. And still, despite it all, he had thought he was safe. That they would at least need someone. At least one person. Just in case.

“And those two?” Franklin asked, referring to Hal and Parker.

“They’ll stay,” she said. “Along with the night guards. For liability.”

She handed him the envelope a third time.

“It’s a great package, Franklin. I made sure of it. The best I could get. The best we’ve ever given.”

Franklin raised an eyebrow.

“I know,” she said with a sad chuckle, “I oversold that a bit.”

Franklin snorted, nodding.

Margaret walked to the glass to give him some space. Franklin opened the envelope. He pulled out the documents. He scanned them hastily and then looked across the room at Margaret, who was staring blankly into the facility.

“It’s not as good as Mark’s,” he called out to her.

Mark Smith, Alpha’s old distribution CEO, had been terminated a couple years earlier for what the press had generously called ‘accounting discrepancies.’

“He walked away with millions, you might recall,” Franklin added.

Margaret smiled sadly.

“Proportionally, yours is actually a lot better,” she said. “That was less than a third of his annual compensation.”

Franklin sighed and tossed the papers onto the master station. Of course it was.

“Franklin,” Margaret walked back over to him, “it could be a lot worse. You get a year’s salary and benefits, life insurance, free retraining.”

Franklin felt himself heating up again.

“Margaret,” he said, “I gave my LIFE to this company. I haven’t had a raise in ten years, but I stayed. I lost my wife. My kids hate me. We were told Alpha was a family, and I gave it everything I had. Those machines in there,” Franklin pointed through the glass wall, “WE built those. That system is going to produce for this company for a generation! And I get a year?!”

“You’re not the only one who lost here, Franklin,” Margaret said patiently.

“You’re right, Margaret. I know that. But you know how many people this place has let go over the last few years. Every extra job for a hundred miles has been taken now. There’s nothing left. And I can’t leave. My family is here. My kids are in school. My church. My friends… This is the only town I’ve ever known.”

Franklin looked at Margaret helplessly.

“That’s why you never got a raise, Franklin. You had nowhere to go. None of us did. Management knew it. You’ve got to let it go. Take the training and run with.”

“Training? I don’t even have a degree, Margaret. You can’t get a job without a degree now, no matter what you know. And you can’t get one of those in a year.”

“I believe in you, Franklin. You’ll think of something. No one else could have done this,” she pointed forcefully through the glass. “You’ll find something.”

Franklin’s eyes followed the line of her finger out into the facility.

“I thought I was safe,” Franklin lamented.

“No one is safe,” Margaret replied quietly.

Looking out at the machines, Franklin’s eyes suddenly lit up. He had an idea.

“Come with me,” he urged Margaret. “We built this together. We don’t need Alpha. We are experts. We can do the same thing for someone else!”

That’s right, thought Franklin. With her savvy and his expertise, they would kill it. Margaret was right. He would fine. If only he could convince her.

“There is no one else,” Margaret replied.

Franklin was taken aback.

“Sure there is,” Franklin said, “I mean, no one big, but some smaller folks. We could stay in our homes. Travel a couple of times a month consulting. Make a decent living.”

Margaret shook her head.

“These people mean that much to you?” Franklin was exasperated. “After everything? We don’t need them.”

“No, Franklin, we can’t,” she said.

“You don’t need to worry,” he said, “You don’t have to come right away. Let me get it started first. No sense in losing your job until it’s worked out.

“No, Franklin,” she said emphatically, “we can’t.”

Franklin was confused. “Of course we can, what are you talking about?”

“We can’t,” she said, “We signed non-compete agreements to keep our jobs. Last year, during the downsizing.”

“What? What’s that even mean?” Franklin asked. That couldn’t possibly be right. “Of course we can work. That’s what this country is about.”

“No, Franklin, we can’t. Not in the distribution industry. At least, not in any state where Alpha has a facility for the next five years. We signed it away. We had to. To keep our jobs. It was in the retention packet.”

“But,” Franklin looked at her in horror, “Alpha is in every state.”

Franklin thought he saw Margaret’s eyes fill with pity. A wave of despair flooded over him.

“I know,” she said softly.

“This is all I know how to do,” Franklin murmured.

“My family,” he said quietly, “for nothing…”

The room fell silent. Neither of them said anything for several minutes.

“Margaret,” Franklin finally spoke, “If they did this to me they can do it to you. Come with me,” he pleaded, “we are stronger together.”

Margaret looked down, but didn’t reply.

Franklin said it again, louder this time.

He heard the doors swish open behind him. Hal and Parker had been listening.

“Margaret,” he said urgently, “Margaret!”

She looked up at him.

“Don’t do this,” he said, “Don’t do it. If they did it to me they can do it to you,” he repeated.

He felt Hal’s hand on his shoulder. It was gentle.

“Margaret,” he pleaded, “Don’t do this. You have to fight them. Don’t you see? If you do it to me, they’ll do it to you, too. Don’t you see? You’re next?” She wasn’t answering him. “Do you hear me?” he muttered pathetically, “They’ll do it to you, too.”

Margaret looked up at him. Her eyes deep with sadness. He held her gaze. Finally, she spoke.

“They already have, Franklin,” she said softly. “This is my last day this was my last task.”

Franklin became speechless. Hal’s hand pulled lightly on his shoulder, guiding him out through the doors. Parker stayed behind to escort Margaret out. After he passed through, Franklin looked back into the hub one last time. Margaret stood on the far side of the room, facing the glass. She was looking out into the facility one last time. Looking out at the hours of their lives. At the people they had known. Their friends and colleagues who, one by one, had been converted to profit for shareholders. Her silhouette was centered perfectly in the doorway.

The doors rushed shut. The letters A L P H A closed down upon her.

---

Right now, most of us sell our labor to making a living. The ultimate goal of the efficiency experts is to reduce and then eliminate their need to purchase that labor.

As workers are replaced, if we keep our current system as it is, and let guys like the DOGE Bros write the rules, the only way to generate wealth will be by having wealth, and owning stocks in the companies that produce.

What could have been a beautiful future where humans need to work less in order to survive and thrive and could focus on their passions and their families, will instead become a future where possessing wealth is the primary means of creating wealth, and the gap between everyday people/former workers, and the top percent grows exponentially.

Please continue to share this Substack and engage in the comments.

Lucas