When Government Stops Governing

Political standoffs over budgets reveal an uncomfortable truth: the machinery of state cannot simply be switched off and on

Government shutdowns have become ritualized theater in American politics, yet their consequences extend far beyond the drama on Capitol Hill. Aaron Meyers, Ishmael Interactive CX Pod host and Ana Monroe, Ishmael Interactive CEo, are veterans of federal service—one from the Environmental Protection Agency, another from the Office of Personnel Management—offer a sobering assessment of what happens when political disputes dismantle the daily machinery of governance.

The mechanics are deceptively simple. When Congress fails to agree on appropriations by September 30th, agencies furlough workers deemed "non-essential." But this binary classification ignores the intricate dependencies that keep government functioning. During the 33-day shutdown spanning 2018-2019, regulations.gov—the portal through which Americans comment on proposed federal rules—went dark for weeks. The cause? Not grand political maneuvering, but an expired SSL certificate. The person authorized to click the renewal button had been furloughed.

This seemingly minor failure captures a larger dysfunction. Democratic participation requires infrastructure. When that infrastructure collapses over something as mundane as certificate renewal, the theoretical right to comment on regulations becomes meaningless. The bloodbath in customer sentiment surveys was predictable.

The arbitrary nature of who works and who doesn't compounds the damage. Some offices operated on working capital funds or fee-for-service agreements that remained solvent despite the shutdown. Their staff reported to work whilst colleagues in other divisions sat idle, even when those divisions possessed adequate funding. At EPA, political appointees chose maximum shutdown over navigating internal battles about exemptions, shuttering programs with available resources to avoid appearing insufficiently committed to the administration's posture.

This creates perverse outcomes. Workers who continued reported feeling like "scabs"—guilty for receiving paychecks whilst colleagues faced eviction. Those furloughed contemplated seeking termination to collect unemployment, a more reliable income stream than promises of eventual back pay. Food kitchen lines in Washington quadrupled as federal workers, hardly lavishly compensated in normal times, struggled to buy groceries.

The ripple effects extend beyond the payroll. Every sandwich shop, every contractor, every business in proximity to federal operations feels the contraction. The interconnected nature of modern government—and the economy built around it—means partial shutdowns cascade unpredictably. Organizations lose institutional knowledge as stressed workers depart. Projects stall. Scheduling training sessions becomes archeological work, hunting for notes from initiatives launched thirty days prior.

Most damagingly, momentum evaporates. Government work, like any complex endeavor, depends on sustained effort and morale. A month-long interruption doesn't merely pause progress; it actively erodes the organizational capacity to deliver. When services resume, agencies field the equivalent of AAA players thrust into Major League Baseball—functional, perhaps, but hardly optimal.

The fundamental problem is treating government operations as switchable, as if complex systems can be powered down and rebooted without consequence. Organizations are not abstractions; they are collections of humans maintaining intricate machinery. Intentionally damaging that machinery to signal political commitment—or to force negotiating leverage—mistakes the theater of governance for governance itself.

The lesson remains unlearned. Each shutdown demonstrates anew that employee experience and customer experience are inseparable. Behind every government service sits a person who requires salary, security, and basic dignity to perform effectively. Pretending otherwise produces expired certificates, darkened websites, and citizens unable to exercise democratic rights whilst politicians debate funding levels in comfortable offices.

What we’re into this week

Scott

I’m the only person on the Ishmael Interactive founding team who’s not a direct ex-fed, but I was a contractor for a while, and I grew up in the DMV [ed’s note: that’s local shorthand for the metropolitan area of DC, Maryland, and Virginia] so I know the culture. Your discussion hit me hard emotionally, and the focus on the governance impact of political fights reminded me of How Did The World Get So Ugly?, a recent video from The Cultural Tutor | Sheehan Quirke. In it, he points out that if you want to know what a culture values, look at what it builds. The ugliness of boxy, “functional” architecture I think reflects the inability of our culture to envision a better future, which is just so sad, because we could. 

 Ana

Quirke makes some really good points, but I would go further that you can’t just look at lampposts and fencing to understand what a culture values: you have to have a framework for counting that value correctly. I’m trying to do just that in the midst of this shutdown, which is why I picked up Jim Collins’ 2005 monograph, Good to Great in the Social Sectors this week. I really appreciate how Collins, an incredibly well-established business author, brings in the idea that there’s a vast difference between running a great business and running a great social enterprise, and advocates for different emphases in counting their value. 

Aaron

It seems like you two both look for the “why” in government chaos; I, for one, look for distraction :) That’s why I’m playing around with Knime, who is not sponsoring me to say this [ed’s note: sadly], and their weekly challenges. It’s a bit like a crossword puzzle, but with data instead of words. 

Ana

This could be my nightmare, Aaron.  

Aaron

Better than having to walk around and see every ugly building in full consciousness, Ana. 

Ana 

[laughs] 

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Credits

Discussion: Aaron Meyers & Ana Monroe
Analysis: John Jay
Artwork: Both Members of This Club. 1909. George Bellows. Via the National Gallery.
Why this artwork? Bellows depicts the corruption and brutality of boxing clubs in the title “Both Members of this Club” while also using the moment he depicts, in which the black boxer is near victory, as a way to address the fears of white viewers. The grotesque face of the viewer in the bottom margin of the work, to the right of the central figures, shows that the payoff of this brutal struggle is the ugly and unnecessary debasement of all involved.