https://www.bostonreview.net/articles/inside-project-2025s-plan-to-reprogram-the-government/
The week after taking office in 2017, Donald Trump
announced his administration’s signature policy on the administrative
state—the constellation of agencies, institutions, and procedures that
Congress has created to help the president implement the laws it
passes—when he signed Executive Order 13771. The directive purported to create a “regulatory budget” scheme that prohibited agencies from issuing a new rule unless they first repealed two existing rules and ensured that the resulting cost savings offset any costs the new rule might impose.
In the years since Steve Bannon called for the
“deconstruction of the administrative state,” the conservative movement
has come to embrace it—for archconservative ends.
The effort failed. While federal agencies reduced their regulatory
output during the Trump administration, they made little lasting
progress in repealing existing rules. The Administrative Procedure Act, which governs
much of how the administrative state operates, makes it hard to do so.
Most of the Trump administration’s repeal attempts were met with rejection by federal courts for failing to abide by basic procedural requirements.
Still, Executive Order 13771 perfectly encapsulated conservative
thinking about regulatory policy at the time. The goal was to bring
about the “deconstruction of the administrative state,” as former Trump
advisor Steve Bannon famously put it. This view was in keeping with decades of conservative hostility for this arm of government, which the right has long tarred as an economic and constitutional disaster.
But that was then. In the years since, the conservative movement has
coalesced around a very different way of thinking about the
administrative state—one that sees it as a vehicle for advancing the
conservative movement’s agenda, particularly on social issues, and thus
embraces policy changes that would strengthen many aspects of
its governing apparatus. There’s still plenty of room for deconstruction
in this vision, particularly when it comes to issues like worker rights
and environmental protection. Indeed, the Supreme Court’s conservatives
demonstrated their continued commitment to the deconstruction project
with their decision last week striking down the four-decade-old Chevron
deference doctrine—a move that will make it easier for conservative
federal judges to strike down rules they oppose on ideological grounds.
But these goals are now presented alongside calls for things like
enhanced agency enforcement capacity and strategies for evading
congressional oversight—priorities that would have been unthinkable for a
conservative regulatory agenda just a few years ago.
The best example of this shift is Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation–led “presidential transition” attack plan
that would guide a second Trump administration should he win this
November. The effort was spearheaded by Heritage president Kevin Roberts
in 2022; a 920-page document called Mandate for Leadership,
published in April last year, sets out a comprehensive blueprint in
technocratic detail. The product of a broad coalition of
ultra-right-wing think tanks and advocacy organizations, the plan has
contributions from the Center for Renewing America (an organization
committed to promoting Christian nationalism), Susan B. Anthony Pro-Life America (a prominent group fighting reproductive rights), and FreedomWorks (the Koch-founded organization responsible for mainstreaming
the Tea Party agenda, which has since dissolved but nevertheless helped
lay the foundation for the conservative movement’s evolution in
thinking on matters of regulatory policy). It covers
nearly every policy issue you can think of, from defense budgets to
bank regulation to highway construction. (For his part, Bannon has expressed general support for the initiative, but it is unclear whether he appreciates—or even cares about—the shift it represents.)
Project 2025 is candid about its ultimate goal: to reprogram the U.S.
administrative state to support and sustain archconservative rule for
decades to come. The distinguishing features of this regime would
include a far more politicized bureaucracy, immunity against meaningful
public or congressional oversight, abusive deployment of agency
enforcement capabilities as a tool of political retribution, and
aggressive manipulation of federal program implementation in the image
of Christian nationalism, white supremacy, and economic inequality.
One of the Mandate’s prevailing themes is that the administrative state has become a major platform from which the radical left is able to smuggle
its “woke” agenda into nearly every nook and cranny of our society. In
light of this alleged shift, Project 2025 concludes that deconstruction
is no longer the right strategy. Instead, the administrative state must
be aggressively harnessed and then redirected. This is not a brand-new
idea; conservatives have weaponized the administrative state to fight
culture wars in the past, including putting arbitrary regulations on abortion clinics and introducing stringent eligibility
requirements for food assistance programs. But these experiments have
largely been episodic and disjointed. Project 2025’s novelty lies in the
fact that it wants to make them, for the first time, into a
comprehensive strategy.
Russell Vought, Trump’s former Director of the Office of Management
Budget (OMB), succinctly describes this new strategy in a chapter he
wrote for Mandate for Leadership: “The great challenge
confronting a conservative President is the existential need for
aggressive use of the vast powers of the executive branch to return
power—including power currently held by the executive branch—to the
American people.” Doing so, the Mandate argues, requires giving
a second Trump administration nearly unchecked power over the machinery
by which the administrative state operates: the institutions, the
procedures, the resources, and the personnel.
Project 2025 is clearly designed to avoid the pitfalls that doomed Executive Order 13771. In many ways, Mandate for Leadership can be read as an instruction manual for undermining the safeguards meant to prevent
governing officials from engaging in the abuses of power Project 2025
wants to encourage. Replete with methodical detail and technocratic
jargon, it offers future political leadership across all the federal
administrative agencies a full taxonomy of tactics they can deploy to
either exploit the weak points in these safeguards or bypass them
altogether.
One of the Mandate’s central tactics concerns rules around staffing. Currently, agencies hire
professional career staff with specialized training and expertise. All
must swear an oath to follow the Constitution in carrying out their
duties—even and especially if that means disobeying the orders of
someone higher up in the bureaucratic hierarchy. As such, these career
staff provide
perhaps the most important line of defense against an autocratic
presidential regime. But through a policy called Schedule F, the Mandate seeks to sideline or even purge them. Derived from another of Trump’s executive orders,
the proposal would reclassify the thousands of career government
employees who play some role in policy formation outside of the
competitive service—the federal personnel category that includes
rigorous, merit-based requirements for hiring, firing, and promotion
decisions. Stripped of these basic protections,
which have been in place for over 140 years, many employees would
become “at will,” fireable for any reason—or no reason at all. The
intent is obvious: to encourage public servants to obey their political
bosses, even when that means going against the law and their own
expertise. Were it to take effect, workers who refuse to toe the line
could be summarily terminated.
And to buttress the effect of Schedule F, Mandate for Leadership
includes several more targeted methods for isolating recalcitrant
public servants. Its chapter on the intelligence community, for
instance, describes policy changes that would make it easier to suspend or revoke
security clearances for career staff at national security–related
agencies. Without their security clearances, these individuals would no
longer be able to perform their jobs—and that, of course, is the point.
Other sections contemplate taking similarly hostile actions against
members of the Senior Executive Service, a special band within the civil
service created
to serve as a bridge between political appointees and lower-line career
staff by providing management support and expertise. Members who step
out of line might find themselves being relocated to far-flung
geographic locations or reassigned to positions unrelated to their area
of expertise.
The flip side of silencing or firing career public servants is to empower extremists and amplify outlier viewpoints—a move Mandate for Leadership
has plenty of ideas about how to accomplish. One of these is simply to
point Schedule F and security clearance abuses in the opposite
direction. Unburdened by the competitive hiring process, agencies could hire
whomever they wanted for career civil service positions. Project 2025
makes clear that unquestioned loyalty to the president, as opposed to
professionalism and expertise, is the only real qualification that
matters. Similarly, political appointees would have a freer hand to
assign security clearances, ensuring loyal voices are heard loud and
clear when it comes to conducting intelligence assessments to inform
national security decisions.
Mandate for Leadership at times even directly requires
consideration of outlier views. One of its recommendations to “improve”
the President’s Daily Briefing (PDB) on national security issues is to
create a mechanism that ensures the inclusion of “properly channeled
dissent.” Mandate fails to specify what constitutes a proper
channel, but the broader context of the recommendation indicates a
hostility toward the independent viewpoints of career intelligence
officers as well as a desire to transform these documents from objective
analyses into advocacy documents.
Another group of proposed tactics builds on the longstanding
conservative tradition of outsourcing critical government functions to
the private sector. Even here, though, the goal isn’t simply to shrink
government but to advance Project 2025’s broader ideological agenda as
well. The chapter on the Department of Energy, for instance, urges
consideration of outsourcing the functions of the Energy Information
Administration (EIA), a small statistical agency charged with gathering
and analyzing data regarding U.S. energy systems. The information
products that the EIA generates are crucial for informing energy-related
policymaking and investments by the electricity and oil and gas
sectors; it is perhaps best known for the different “outlooks” it publishes
that forecast future energy trends. While conceding that the EIA’s
products are generally “neutral”—if anything, the agency’s outlooks have
been criticized for being too pessimistic about renewable energy—Mandate
still suggests that the reform could be beneficial overall by reducing
the costs of government. Previous experience with privatization casts
doubt on this prediction. More troubling still, businesses interested
in securing future lucrative contracts might deliberately produce
analyses that align with the president’s preferred policy positions on
energy. A future president opposed to urgent climate action, for
instance, might be able to use biased analyses to oppose policies aimed
at promoting renewable energy development.
The flip side of silencing or firing career public servants is to empower extremists and amplify outlier viewpoints.
Mandate for Leadership elsewhere calls for dismantling the
National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s (NOAA) lifesaving
weather forecasting capabilities and outsourcing them to private
companies. Such a move could exacerbate
economic and racial inequity if the private company were to put those
forecasts—which are now freely available to everyone—behind a paywall
that might be unaffordable for many families. More ominously still, a
company responding to profit incentives might create what amounts to a
two-tier forecasting system, with more accurate forecasts available only
for wealthier parts of the country. Low-quality forecasts in poorer
areas would leave residents unable to plan for the kind of extreme
weather conditions that are becoming more prevalent with climate change,
putting their lives and property at risk of unnecessary harm.
Alongside its calls for expanded privatization, Mandate for Leadership
advocates for politicizing existing relationships with contractors. Its
chapter on the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), for
instance, recommends that the agency end its reliance on “global
[non-governmental organizations]” such as Oxfam International for
distributing humanitarian assistance, and instead turn the work over to
“faith-based organizations,” including both local churches as well as
larger U.S.-based organizations such as Catholic Relief Services and
Knights of Columbus—the perfect vehicles for indoctrinating aid
recipients in the conservative Christian ideology that is at Project
2025’s core.
Previously, the Trump administration used
these humanitarian assistance programs as leverage to induce recipient
countries to join the infamous Geneva Consensus Declaration on Women’s
Health and Protection of the Family (GCD). The international agreement,
developed outside of any recognized international governance structures
such as the United Nations, binds signatory countries in adopting
domestic and foreign policies that oppose abortion. Consistent with these neocolonial aspirations, Mandate for Leadership
strongly embraces the GCD, envisioning the use of humanitarian aid
programs implemented by faith-based organization contractors to expand
its reach to new countries.
More generally, Mandate for Leadership calls for weaponizing
contractor policy against companies with “woke” policies. Come 2025, a
company that has adopted certain kinds of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion,
and Justice (DEIJ) programs might find itself ineligible for many
federal grant opportunities. The chapter on the Department of Education
would prohibit public schools that receive federal assistance from
entering contracts with companies that recognize transgender people’s
pronouns—a set of policies that would complement recently adopted legislation in conservative states that prohibit DEIJ programs in public institutions of higher education.
Mandate for Leadership also contains several recommendations
for how agencies could weaponize federal grantmaking to advance
conservative policy objectives. For instance, the chapter on the
Department of Health and Human Services recommends that the Teen
Pregnancy Prevention and Personal Responsibility Education programs
prioritize grants for abstinence-only programs. The chapter on the
Environmental Protection Agency calls for radically overhauling that
agency’s grants program, which distributes hundreds of millions of
dollars in discretionary grants every year. Mandate would end
the practice of career staff making these grant determinations and
instead assign this task to a “political appointee.”
Perhaps the most disquieting category of tactics in Mandate for Leadership involves the aggressive, politicized use of agency enforcement powers.
The chapter on the Department of Justice (DOJ) proposes overhauling the agency to eliminate
its longstanding tradition of political insulation from the White
House. In theory, this insulation follows from the idea that the job of
the DOJ’s head, the attorney general, is to represent the U.S.
government and not the president. Institutional mechanisms have been
used to ensure the agency’s independence and to guard against both the
perception and reality of conflicts of interest, including, most
notably, the use of a special counsel to investigate and prosecute the
president or certain administration officials. As was demonstrated
during the first Trump term, though, the actual independence of a
special counsel can be limited. Mandate
would seek to further degrade the DOJ’s independence by injecting
greater presidential control into questions of litigation strategy, even
raising the disturbing specter of the president targeting political enemies with enforcement actions.
Likewise, in its chapter on the Department of Homeland Security, the
document outlines various proposals aimed consolidating and
strengthening enforcement policies at U.S. Immigration and Customs
Enforcement. These include giving individual agents greater leeway to arrest immigrants with suspected criminal records and expanding the geographic scope of Expedited Removal procedures—the summary removal of noncitizens without a hearing. Mandate
would permit these procedures to be applied to individuals more than
100 miles from the U.S.-Mexico border, which was the traditional limit,
with no apparent bright-line geographic restrictions.
Project 2025 also envisions expanded use of the Insurrection Act of
1807, which authorizes the president to use the military for domestic
law enforcement purposes under rare, extreme circumstances. In 2020
Trump threatened to use
this authority to quell the Black Lives Matter protests that took place
in the wake of George Floyd’s murder before being discouraged from
doing so by his advisors. Mandate for Leadership, while not
citing the law by name, does appear to endorse its use as part of its
broader border control strategy, recommending calling in “active-duty
military personnel and National Guardsmen to assist in arrest operations
along the border—something that has not yet been done.” Citing internal
documents and an anonymous source, the Washington Post has reported that key personnel involved in Project 2025 have plans to use the Insurrection Act even beyond what Mandate for Leadership lays out for it.
Mandate for Leadership’s final set of tactics for
hijacking the administrative state have to do with limiting or evading
congressional oversight. Several chapters, for instance, describe how
the administration can manipulate
the Federal Vacancies Reform Act by installing political appointees in
key agency leadership positions—a gambit whose practical effect is to
enable politically loyal personnel to carry out official agency business
without being subjected to the lengthy, and potentially embarrassing,
Senate confirmation process.
Other chapters recommend giving the president greater control over
communications between agencies and committees of jurisdictions with
Congress, with the apparent aim of controlling the flow of information
that members of Congress and their staff receive. Instituting these
changes would clearly undermine Congress’s ability to conduct meaningful
oversight for these agencies. The chapter on the DHS, for example,
calls for the president to demand that only one committee in each
chamber serve as an authorizing committee for the agency (currently
there are at least six authorizing committees in the House and four more
in the Senate). If congressional leadership refuses to accept this
arrangement, then it recommends that the agency’s Office of Legislative
Affairs select one and restrict its communications to only that
committee. Similarly, the chapter on the Department of State recommends
that agencies defer to the White House on relevant communications with
Congress—meaning that in practice, discussions on certain issues of
agency business would have to first go through the president.
Congress and the federal judiciary have long been ripe for capture by
elite minority factions to serve and sustain their rule. But the
administrative state, which is of a much more recent vintage, was
supposed to be different.
In the years following the Civil War, and then later during the Progressive Era, reformers and advocates sought to build a governing institution that would be more inclusive and democratically responsive.
The Interstate Commerce Commission and other early experiments in
federal regulatory governance demonstrated that the administrative state
could stand up to powerful economic interests and ensure a fairer
marketplace for consumers and small businesses while protecting
democracy against ever-evolving oligarchic threats. Meanwhile, rapid
industrialization and urbanization laid bare the limitations of using
civil lawsuits to address harms from dangerous business practices.
Agencies like the Food and Drug Administration, first created in 1906,
offered the promise of using standards developed and implemented by
scientists and other experts to prevent such harms from occurring in the
first place. These and other regulatory frameworks created by Congress
established a new model in which agencies would be empowered to
continually respond to new and emerging threats.
Degrading Congress and the federal judiciary were
important first steps for the right, but administrative state would be
the real prize.
The genius of the administrative state’s design was that it would provide a permanent forum in which public input and professional expertise could be leveraged to solve the people’s problems in ways that elected officials would, or could, not. Scholars of U.S. democracy
have long recognized its potential to serve as a platform for building
and sustaining true, durable public power. At its best, they argue, it
can provide ordinary citizens with a locus of countervailing power in
the political marketplace. It’s clear, then, why the modern conservative
movement has come to see it as such a threat.
And that is the real import of Project 2025: it seeks
to corrupt the administrative state by transforming it from a dynamic
base of democratic power into a fierce weapon of social and economic
conservatism. What will happen if it succeeds? Once the damage has been
done, the task of sustaining minority rule for decades to come would be
much easier for the conservative movement. Degrading the institutions of
Congress and the federal judiciary were important first steps toward
rebuilding the United States in line with its vision of Christian
nationalist principles, white supremacy, and economic inequality.
Seizing control of the administrative state would be the real prize.
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