Sunday, May 25, 2025


On Race, Time and Utopia


 May 23, 2025

Image Source: Cover art for the book Race, Time, and Utopia: Critical Theory and the Process of Emancipation by William Paris

With his new book Race, Time, and Utopia: Critical Theory and the Process of Emancipation, philosopher William M. Paris makes an important contribution to several related conversations. Paris’s book offers one of the richest and most well-grounded recent accounts of utopia, firmly centering the question of class struggle and his distinctive understanding of race. The book is an attempt to reconstruct and interrogate “utopian tendencies that have been immanent in historical processes of emancipation from racial domination.” This is a multifaceted project that presents a new and exciting understanding of political and economic emancipation, drawing heavily on both the theorists of hope and utopia and the Black radical tradition generally.

Race, Time, and Utopia takes a new look at the utopian project and aims to clarify the relationship between our social practices as currently constituted and efforts to facilitate or frustrate “the ongoing task of full self-emancipation.” The book is a rare treat for those who seek out academic philosophy writing that is not boring. Paris’s prose is as clear and compelling as his philosophical claims. Some readers will recognize the author as one of the hosts of the popular podcast What’s Left of Philosophy. His students are a lucky group, and the book bears Paris’s characteristic ability to explain complex and layered arguments in a clear, straightforward, and engaging way.

Race, Time, and Utopia looks to philosopher Ernst Bloch (1885-1977) to help develop its conception of “new struggles of emancipation freed from ideologies that tend to naturalize our present form of life.” Bloch features prominently in the book, and gives it one of its key philosophical pillars in the idea of Ungleichzeitigkeit, which is discussed throughout as non-synchronicity or non-contemporaneity. Paris is very keen to develop the role of time in his picture of racial capitalism. The book makes a series of provocative claims about the relationship between time and the realities of racial domination. He says that time, and the sense of being out of step with it, are essential to the social experiences we associate with racism. Versions of this claim are woven into the arguments Paris presents throughout the book.

From the first pages, Paris is clear that he hopes to chart his own course, rejecting many of the assumptions we have come to associate with the discourses on racial justice, emancipation, and utopia. He sets out to challenge the notion of utopia as “an ideal that the philosopher introduces to social affairs,” instead urging that utopia is a concrete, “historical tendency that has shaped the world.” The philosopher doesn’t have to—and importantly shouldn’t—attempt to fashion utopia from whole cloth, but should find its elements in available stories of struggle and the recapture of certain spheres of temporal autonomy in the historical record. Paris believes that it is possible to discover the hints and characteristics of utopia as immanent aspects of historical dynamics. He is not interested in an account of utopia that builds it in the abstract and applies it to social reality from some hypothesized outside perspective. Paris is not advancing a vanguardism that imposes an intellectual’s vision of the perfect world from the outside.

He draws on Charles W. Mills (1951-2021) in his criticism of the dominant way of thinking about utopia, as an ideal introduced into the discourse by the philosopher. Mills argued that when we set up any model or ideal, we should begin with history and its injustices, rather than deliberately removing them from view. He gave an incisive critique of highly stylized models of the ideal that appeal to abstract principles, but do not account for deeply entrenched historical power relations. For Mills, the fashionable attempts at ideal theory were themselves deeply ideological; he writes, “Despite the long history of racial subordination of nonwhites (Native American expropriation, black slavery and Jim Crow, Mexican annexation, Chinese exclusion, Japanese internment), despite the long history of legal and civic restrictions on women, the polity is still thought of as essentially liberal-democratic.” This is part of the important work philosophers have often done to legitimate and naturalize the power of the ruling class. The philosopher, perhaps, can be forgiven for being out of touch with the realities of racial domination and class struggle. It comes with the territory of existing in the scholarly milieu. But for his part, Paris is sensitive to this distance between the real-world experience of the worker and the halls of academia, and he also introduces thinkers like James Boggs (1919-1993) in part to show the depth and complexity of ideas emerging from different contexts, outside of formal scholarship.

Paris follows Mills in taking much less for granted than most political philosophers, working in the close margins of an idealized world. For all of the high-flown rhetoric about rights, liberal-democratic political practice has ignored and thus naturalized some of the clearest historical examples of violent subordination. For as Mills wrote, “There could hardly be a greater and more clear-cut violation of property rights in U.S. history than Native American expropriation and African slavery.” This openness leads Paris to argue that we can find useful aspects of utopian consciousness in a broad range of movements and thinkers. While acknowledging shortcomings, Paris sees black nationalism as a source of relevant insights, particularly in its capacity to think beyond current social practices and posit new anchors for action and new ways of life.

But Paris sees the black nationalists as mistaken about the status of race, arguing that connecting the nation to race “risks reifying race as if it has a life of its own independent of our social practices rather than following from the organization of our social practices.” Paris believes that race is made-up, an emergent feature of our own conduct, not an “alien force” that controls us. Race is so deeply fixed in the social imagination that many have apparently come to accept it as real. As the book explains, because we live in racially unjust societies, we observe the fact that race has power in the world. But Paris says there are good reasons to worry about reifying race and imagining it as an aspect of social life that is situated beyond the reaches of our social practices. He draws from W.E.B. Du Bois (1868-1963) in discussing “how a racist society tends to make it seem as if something called ‘race’ sorts different populations into hierarchical relationships rather than the practices and institutions of human beings.”

Professor Paris does not pull punches in his criticism of such “racial fetishism,” this perversion of being dominated socially by our own bad idea. He writes, “The inverted world of racial fetishism is one where history dominates the present and represses the utopian temporality of the ‘not-yet’ by reifying racial categories and relationships of domination.” Elevating race into this special position not only blinds us in the present, it limits the possibilities for the future. Here, Paris draws on Frantz Fanon (1925-1961), whose work describes a “descent into a real hell” that then opens the way to a fuller understanding of one’s place in the world. Fanon wrote, “There is a zone of nonbeing, an extraordinarily sterile and arid region, an utterly naked declivity where an authentic upheaval can be born.” Ernesto de Martino perhaps wrote similarly that those living in conditions of insecurity are always “exposed to the risk of a ‘crisis of presence.’” For Paris, this can be a space of utopian capacity and meaningful distance from the past. The book’s arguments connect the zone of nonbeing to Sartre’s nothingness, a state preceding the various social practices making claims on our bodies and our time. This state of nonbeing or nothingness may remind some of the work of German philosopher Max Stirner (1806–1856), whom Marx was famously at pains to dress down in The German Ideology.

Stirner was an existentialist forerunner who finds in his concept of “the unique” a “creative nothing,” a fundamental consciousness that cannot be reduced to the categories imposed on it. It is from this position of distance and creativity that we can take on utopian subjectivity. Paris contends that we can adopt this stance as a way to see the true character of our social practices and, as Marx says, the “muck of ages” more clearly. Racial fetishism, Paris argues, stands in the way of this Fanonian moment of transcendence from the vicious dehumanization of race. The stakes were clearly very high to Fanon: “The problem is important. I propose nothing short of the liberation of the man of color from himself.” Paris’s historical understanding of race situates it within a larger system of power and class, where race emerges as a mode of social behavior that legitimates an existing relationship of economic exploitation. Here, race is a secondary feature of a broader way of life, namely extractive class dynamics as within capitalism. It is this hateful context that creates race as a social anchor.

Paris argues that as long as our social order is defined “by actions that reproduce exploitation, scarcity, and hierarchy,” we cannot be surprised that the system produces results that treat certain groups “as surplus or disposable.” The fact of the relationship of power and extraction precedes and creates race; a certain group is made inferior because, as Fanon argues, a society that sustains itself through their exploitation has made them inferior by definition. The creation of race “mediates and legitimizes” their inferiority and thus follows as a matter of course. Racial fetishism brings about the incoherent and non-synchronous state in which the racialized individual must act as if race and its claims are true. Making a fetish of race serves to obscure class exploitation and hides the contingent, constructed character of economic hierarchies.

Given the role racial fetishism plays within the exploitative capitalist system, Paris follows Fanon in arguing that we cannot address it merely by thinking differently about any given group of people. Instead we must be ready to address and overturn the social and economic foundations of race and racial fetishism. For Fanon, “effective disalienation” requires both recognition of the role of the economic system and the “internalization—or, better, the epidermalization—of this inferiority” within the system. Confronting race before the deeper question of its role within the social and economic paradigm puts the cart before the horse: it tries to treat race as if it truly has a separate reality, ignoring its embeddedness in overlapping social, political, and economic hierarchies. Paris believes that racial fetishism of this kind is also present in more progressive political circles, and he argues forcefully for an approach that draws more attention to history and class relations. In reality, that is, historically, categories of race were not real or readily apparent on their own, but were codified specifically to justify and stabilize a coerced workforce. Those who fetishize race, putting it in the position of first importance, share the same position as those who want to perpetuate it.

Paris argues that because racial fetishism “continues to entrap social forms of consciousness,” we have not been able to address deeper questions about our society. He calls upon Fanon’s argument that even reparations serve a role of solidifying racial categories and roles. He thinks that one of the reasons we continue to recreate the social practices of race is because we have so mystified it: we “mystify these past practices as natural rather than artificial and thus frame the interrogation of our freedom and social practices as questions of essence or authenticity rather than invention.” Moving beyond the fetishization of race permits humanity to occupy the central position in how we organize our time and anchor our social practices. Race, Time, and Utopia is not hesitant to enter a contested territory among those on the political left. The left has been keen to debate on the relationship between race and class and the relative prominence of each as a factor in social relations. Paris notes at the book’s outset that his focus is not racial justice as construed by the mainstream of political philosophy. He wants us to zoom out and see the place of race in a much larger social and economic system. But his explanation of race is made even more nuanced and compelling by positioning it within a framework of class dynamics. And within the context of the economic system and its class structure, race has always been about time and a ruling class’s control over certain people’s time. The book argues that “racial domination is at bottom the domination of time by one group over another.” Beyond the control over a certain group’s time, racial domination also involves making that group permanently out of sync socially. There is a non-contemporaneity to racist societies that manifests in several ways. For example, it is easy to see that formal rights do not guarantee freedom from racial domination. Our society is incoherent in that it regards itself as one thing, but is another. This is a form of temporal friction or discordance, and it is imposed on Black people to put them at odds with the rhythm of mainstream life. Among Paris’s unique contributions with the book is this conception of temporality, his understanding of racial capitalism as essentially a series of impositions on the time of a certain group. For Paris, time is crucially important. It is the medium through which racial domination takes shape and comes to be a coherent social practice.

He provides a reading of Du Bois through the lens of the allegory of the cave, from Plato’s Republic. In this reading, Black people are “trapped in a world of appearances, cut off from one another, and ruled by those who do not have their best interests at heart.” While Paris is disinclined to accept Du Bois’s elitism and vanguardism, he is interested in the social ontology underlying Du Bois’s arguments. Du Bois’s characterization suggests that slavery set Black people off on a different track, a “different historical and cultural rhythm than the rest of society.” The color line keeps them in a condition of “non-synchronous domination,” where they are never truly in accord with the modern social order. This plays out both in the special differentiation imposed by segregation and in a temporal rift created by social practices that orient themselves around very different expectations.

Because the social practices of the present give rise to such discordance, utopian consciousness persistently “generates a sense of untimeliness,” according to Paris. It seems to want too much too soon, or else it seems to miss its opening. He argues that we are now often in states of crisis consciousness, as distinct from class consciousness. Moments of crisis, when the habits and expectations of daily life have been dramatically disrupted, can produce moments of questioning that challenge structures of power and domination (he points to the example of the protests after the murder of George Floyd, during the Covid pandemic). The challenge is to synchronize such moments of crisis consciousness with genuine, sustainable utopian consciousness.

In his book, Paris suggests “the existence of a truer society from within the false society of racial domination,” following Du Bois in calling it “the kingdom of culture.” Our society remains “temporally out of joint,” but inspired work like Race, Time, and Utopia gives us new ways to think about how we could make it more free, just, and coherent. One of the benefits of reading philosophers who do engage with history, with what actually happened, is that their social ontologies are based in something more than pure theory. Paris does not diminish the importance of racism in the story by placing it within its economic context. In addition to the seminal figures discussed in the book, many readers will be reminded also of consonant work by Gerald Horne and Cedric Robinson, among many others. Horne and Robinson come to mind because they were, in their own ways, deeply critical of theorizing either race or class by isolating them from their deep historical entanglement. Within that framework, they saw race as centrally important, as constitutive of capitalism and part of its foundations. Placing racism within an explanation of class dynamics only clarifies our picture of both, and Paris carries on this conversation here in the world of philosophy. The result is an approach that makes meaningful headway against the false choices and unchallenged premises of the prevailing conversations on race and political emancipation.

Race, Time, and Utopia reveals a thinker who, like Fanon, is committed to always questioning, who from the radically open place of the zone of nonbeing, can genuinely hear the reasons and justifications of others. This is the truly utopian spirit, but expressed with subtlety and seriousness. In concluding the book, Paris discusses strategies for loosening the hold of the present on our social imagination. This is where the non-synchronicity he discusses throughout the book can be reframed as a point of departure for full self-awareness and utopian consciousness. We can visit a new temporal space where we have the ability to think differently about the future, to imagine it in new ways.

David S. D’Amato is an attorney, businessman, and independent researcher. He is a Policy Advisor to the Future of Freedom Foundation and a regular opinion contributor to The Hill. His writing has appeared in Forbes, Newsweek, Investor’s Business Daily, RealClearPolitics, The Washington Examiner, and many other publications, both popular and scholarly. His work has been cited by the ACLU and Human Rights Watch, among others.

The Fall of Kars and the Fate of Eastern Europe


Matthew Stevenson

May 23, 2025

This is the eightheenth part in a series about riding night trains across Europe and the Near East to Armenia—to spend time in worlds beyond the pathological obsessions of Donald Trump. (This week, Trump and his cohort of Musketeers raked in billions in their own personal cryptocurrencies by auctioning off the White House and the executive branch.)



The strategic fortress city of Kars, now on the border between Georgia and Turkey, but once the distant limits of the Russian empire as it collided with the Ottomans.
Photo by Matthew Stevenson.

By the time my bus approached Kars (in eastern Turkey) across an expansive valley with mountains at its northern periphery, I was restless with my travels. Instead of reading my books, I had spent the trip peering out the bus window, trying to match the route with some of the battle maps from 1877 and 1916 that I had with me in my bag. For most of my life, I had never heard of Kars; now I was coming to the view that its fate determined that of Eastern Europe.

When the bus stopped outside of Kars for yet another cigarette break, I decided that I had had enough bussing (and smoking) for the day. I retrieved my bicycle from the luggage hold and began riding toward the city and, in particular, Kafkas Cephesi Harp Tarihi Museum.

I had read in one of my books that it was a military museum located in one of the many forts that once encircled this city lying at the end of so many conquering dreams between the Russians and Ottomans.

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According to my notes, the museum covered more than the 1855 siege and battle of Kars, which concluded the Crimean War. It also had displays about the city fighting in 1877 and during World War I.

The fort turned out to be less than three miles from where the bus left me in a gas station parking lot. I locked my bicycle to a railing near the Kanli bastion, and inside bought a ticket to tour the exhibitions, which are located in the gun bays where before there would have been ammunition and long barrels.

In all there were 46 bastions, forts, and entrenchments around the center of Kars and its imposing castle on the hill overlooking the city. Whether the city was in the hands of the Ottomans or the Russians, the fortifications were a tough nut to crack, especially as behind these lines was the castle artillery, which could reach almost anywhere on the perimeter.

Except to the north of Kars, the surrounding landscape is open prairie, which made it hard for investing armies to hide from the artillery.

Prior to rolling up to Kanli bastion, I had thought that Kars would be a more imposing fortress than Erzurum. But if I had been an Ottoman or Russian general, I would have much preferred to defend Erzurum, given the snow-capped mountains on its perimeter.

Erzurum has the look of a fortified Innsbruck or Verdun, while Kars feels more like a cavalry outpost—admittedly, the castle is imposing and deadly—on the American frontier.

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The Russian attack and siege against Kars in 1855 was a last throw of the dice in the Crimean War, to break the Allied support of the Ottoman Empire and its own siege of Sebastopol on the west coast of Crimea.

The Russian tsar, Nicholas I, thought that an attack against Kars and Erzurum might well panic the Ottomans and force them to sue for peace independently. But British General William Fenwick Williams used the terrain around Kars to organize the Ottoman defenses, and to prolong an inevitable defeat until late 1855, by which time Sebastopol had fallen to the Allies and, effectively, the Crimean War was over.

Actually, the Russian 1855 victory at Kars became the impetus for peace negotiations. Now the Russians could trade Kars for parts of Bessarabia (more a core interest), and the Allies could claim victory in Sebastopol and sail home, ending the war that the French politician Adolf Thiers called: “A war to give a few wretched monks the key to a Grotto.” (He was referring to the Russian insistence before the war that Russian monks in Jerusalem have access to Christian relics in the holy city.)

Professor J.A.R. Marriott’s comments about the war read like this:


The Crimean War was fought ostensibly to maintain the independence and integrity of the Ottoman Empire. That principle received its consecration in the Treaty of Paris [1856 at the war’s end]. The supreme purpose which inspired the Western Powers in their joint enterprise was to repudiate the claims of Russia to an exclusive protectorate over the Christian subjects of the Porte [Turkey], and to arrest her progress in the Black Sea and the narrow straits. That purpose was apparently achieved in 1856.

But contemporaries were as usual slow to apprehend the things which really belonged unto their peace. Beneath the surface of Balkan politics there were fires smouldering, forces silently at work, which, in the middle of the nineteenth century, few people could have perceived. Meanwhile the soldiers and diplomatists were working better than they knew. They set out to repel Russia and to save Turkey. What they really saved was not the effete rule of the Ottoman Sultan, but the future of nations which were not yet reborn.

And proof of his “future nations which were not yet reborn” can been seen in the extensive museum exhibits about all the Hungarian officers who abandoned the Austrian dual monarchy and fought on the side of the Ottomans in the Caucasus, still angry that Tsar Nicholas I had put down the Hungarian national rising in 1849.

+++

It was not lost on me that I was visiting Kars and inspecting its siege lines around Kanli bastion at a time when yet another Crimean War was being fought between Russia and the West.

In the current instance, the battle lines are virtually the same as they were in 1853-56, although instead of fighting for Kars and Erzurum, Russia was attacking Donetsk and Mariupol.

In 1853, the French and English (think of NATO today) feared Russia might well dominate the Black Sea, Constantinople (Istanbul), and the Principalities (today Romania and Moldova), and it invaded Crimea to strike a blow against Russian imperialism, which was then on the march to the Danube.

Twenty years later—after Gladstone denounced the Bulgarian Horrors (the Ottoman massacres of Christian subjects)—the West was relieved when in 1877 the Russians besieged Plevna and stormed the heights of Shipka Pass (Turkish outposts of influence in Bulgaria).

And come the outbreak of World War I, the “Crimean coalition” (i.e., the powers that besieged Sebastopol in 1854) united on the side of dismantling the Ottoman Empire at Gallipoli and elsewhere. In The Eastern Question, Marriott asks:

Can the Crimean War be justified before the tribunal of impartial history? Retrospective criticism has tended to the view that the war, if not a crime, was at least a blunder, and that it ought to have been and might have been avoided. Sir Robert Morier, writing in 1870, perhaps expressed the current opinion when he described it as ‘the only perfectly useless modern war that has been waged’. Lord Salisbury, some twenty years later, enshrined in classical phrase the opinion that ‘England put her money on the wrong horse’.

In 1854, however, that was less evident, and one of the exhibits in the museum shows a ceremonial coin minted at the war’s outbreak, which reads:


In the year 1854
During the reign of the Queen
VICTORIA
and that of
NAPOLEON III
GREAT BRITAIN
and
FRANCE
joined together in order to insure
the peace of the world

On the flip side of the coin are words: “God defends the right,” and the image shows Queen Victoria and Napoleon III holding hands with the Ottoman sultan.

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From the Kanli bastion, I decided to check into my hotel and reclaim my lost bicycle helmet (left behind on the Dogu Express) before setting out for the Kars castle, which dominates the high ground behind the town.

I found the Hotel Konak on the main street, but it had no trace of my reservation nor word of my helmet. Puzzled, I dragged out my printed confirmation and showed it to the desk clerk, who corrected both errors in explaining that there was another Hotel Konak in Kars and that I was expected across the street, where to my relief I found my helmet and my reserved room.

From my hotel, I biked around the center of Kars before locking my bicycle to a railing (where I could keep an eye on it) and climbing to the ramparts of the castle, which dominates the skyline of the city.

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The castle stretches out along the ridge line of the hillside, but the keep of the castle was locked up, so all I could do is stroll around the walls and imagine how the Russians had taken the fortress city in one night in November 1877, effectively ending that particular Russo-Turkish war (in which, on this occasion, the French were advising the Russians).

In all, in something of a stealth attack, the Russians attacked the fortress with seven columns, and came at Kars from all directions. For once, the Russian army eschewed a plodding direct assault, and came at the fortress with guile—bypassing some strong points, feinting at others, and using speed and courage to get to the top, after which the city below collapsed.

Both the treaties of San Stefano (1877) and Berlin (1878) awarded Kars to the conquering Russians who held the fortified frontier city until the end of World War I. Marriott writes: “In the Caucasus their success was not less complete; the great fortress of Kars had fallen on November 18; the Turkish Empire seemed to lie at their mercy, and in March Russia dictated to the Porte the Treaty of San Stefano.”




Matthew Stevenson is the author of many books, including Reading the Rails, Appalachia Spring, andThe Revolution as a Dinner Party, about China throughout its turbulent twentieth century. His most recent books are Biking with Bismarck and Our Man in Iran. Out now: Donald Trump’s Circus Maximus and Joe Biden’s Excellent Adventure, about the 2016 and 2020 elections.

 


Where’s My $5K DOGE Check?






 May 23, 2025

Remember back to the early days of DOGE when Elon Musk was telling us he would eliminate $2 trillion in waste in the annual budget? At that time, he suggested that we all might get dividend checks on the order of $5,000 based on the governmental waste he would eliminate.

Based on the latest accounts, it doesn’t look like the check is in the mail just yet. In fact, we have not been hearing much from Musk lately. Perhaps he has gone underground so that he doesn’t have to deal with people constantly asking him about their checks.

It wasn’t hard for anyone even remotely familiar with the federal budget to know that Musk could not possibly find anywhere close to $2 trillion in waste. If we add up spending on Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security — the programs Trump said he wasn’t going to touch — we get to $3.3 trillion, almost half the $7 trillion budget.

Adding in the military — an area where Trump wants to increase spending — gets us almost another trillion. Interest on the debt is also close to a trillion. This brings us to $5.3 trillion of a $7.0 trillion budget. That doesn’t leave much room for Elon’s $2 trillion in savings.

And keep in mind, the rest of the budget includes many items that people, including Donald Trump-type people, care about. It’s not just the budget for the air traffic control system, federal support for education and early childhood nutrition, but also MAGA favorites like federal prisons and ICE.

There are always areas where money can be trimmed without damaging important governmental functions, but Elon fired the people who could provide information on that. Specifically, he and/or Trump fired most agencies’ inspector generals on the first day of Trump’s second term. They consciously decided not to consult the people who actually had devoted their careers uncovering waste, fraud, and abuse.

Instead, Musk took his chainsaw towards downsizing the federal bureaucracy. Since the pay of federal employees takes up less than 5 percent of the federal budget, simple arithmetic should have told Musk that he was not going to get anyone near his goal through this route.

Instead we got absurdities like the DOGE crew laying off large numbers of people at the National Nuclear Security Administration and then rushing to try to hire them back when they realized what the agency does. The rehiring was made more difficult due to the fact that DOGE had taken away their government e-mails and couldn’t easily contact many former workers.

We also saw Musk dumping people at the Federal Aviation Administration, making an already short-staffed agency even more understaffed. This is undoubtedly a factor in the problems occurring at Newark airport and other airports around the country. The Memorial Day weekend could prove to be exceptionally trying for a troubled system.

We also got the absurdities around Social Security. Musk insisted, and probably still insists, that we have 20 million people over the age of 115 getting benefits. This is obviously absurd as anyone remotely familiar with the program could have toldhim.

He also briefly cancelled phone service for Social Security beneficiaries because he seems to have mistakenly come to believe that 40 percent of phone calls were by people trying to commit fraud. The apparent basis for this view was a report that showed that 40 percent of fraudulent applications were done by phone. Apart from the absurd logical error in Musk’s thinking, this statistic also implies that 60 percent of fraudulent applications do not come over the phone.

Musk then had his team check phone calls carefully and discovered that 0.0018 percent of the calls were by people trying to commit fraud. That doesn’t seem to be a good argument for making it difficult for people to deal with their Social Security benefits.

Musk also fired 5 percent of the staff at the Social Security Administration, an agency that was already seriously understaffed. This has led to much longer wait times for people trying to contact the agency to start getting benefits, correct errors, or report a change of address or bank account.

Incredibly, the response of Trump’s Social Security Administration to this crisis is to ask staff to work 10 percent harder. Undoubtedly everyone will be happy to pitch in after what they have been through in the first four months of the Trump administration.

The MAGA faithful may be disappointed in Musk’s failure, but it is not a surprise to anyone familiar with the federal budget. The story of massive waste in government spending is something that only exists in Republican rhetoric, not in reality.

Musk was supposed to use his keen business eye, along with his “super-high IQ” DOGE boys to eliminate trillions of dollars of government waste. It turns out Elon is just another crazy billionaire running around with a chainsaw.

This first appeared on Dean Baker’s Beat the Press blog.

Dean Baker is the senior economist at the Center for Economic and Policy Research in Washington, DC.