From Dogecoin to Government Agencies: How a 294-Day Meme Political Experiment Collapsed

When a Shiba Inu Avatar Breaks Into the White House

How short can a department’s lifespan be? 294 days—that’s about the length of a mini bull-bear cycle.

This government agency called DOGE literally copied Dogecoin’s code for its name, plastered a Shiba Inu logo on its homepage, and had its leader wielding a chainsaw, vowing to cut down bureaucracy. Sounds like some meme coin project hyping itself up, right? And it really did come and go just as quickly as a meme coin.

Recently, U.S. Office of Personnel Management Director Kuper publicly announced: “This thing is already gone.” There wasn’t even a formal farewell ceremony—it simply disappeared from the spotlight.

Symbol Games: The First Meme Department in Politics

On January 20, 2025, Trump signed an executive order to create this department on his first day in office. Why call it DOGE? If you know, you know—Elon Musk has always been Dogecoin’s number one fan, and this time, he brought a crypto meme straight into the government system.

The website design was even wilder. What do traditional government websites look like? Serious, rigid, formal. DOGE? The homepage was all Shiba Inu memes, completely shattering your expectations of “official.” This design language, while deconstructing authority, also signaled to young people and digital natives: We’re different.

That iconic photo Musk posted on X, holding a chainsaw, was classic. “The chainsaw is for bureaucracy”—sound familiar? Yep, it’s the same playbook he used while shilling Dogecoin. Create buzz, ignite virality, grab attention. Political marketing and crypto marketing—they run on the same underlying logic.

Behind this play is a full-on transplant of internet meme culture: using irony to dissolve seriousness, replacing institutionalization with symbolism, and targeting those immune to traditional political rhetoric.

Silicon Valley Blitz: 50 “Kid Soldiers” Run a Federal Agency?

If the naming was symbolic innovation, the way it operated was total disruption.

Musk hired about 50 young people in their 20s, who walked into government buildings in hoodies and jeans—dubbed “kid soldiers” by outsiders. Their work style? Running on Red Bull, hustling around federal agencies 24/7. In three weeks, they’d gotten involved in every major department, auditing contracts, tracking cash flow, and screening projects.

The efficiency was off the charts. How did they do it? AI.

The team threw anything digitizable into AI tools: contract payments, employee reimbursements, office leases… Let the machines run the numbers; waste and optimization opportunities stood out instantly. Found idle government office space? Cancel the lease—saved $150 million. This “move fast, break things” Silicon Valley spirit was a shock to D.C.'s bureaucratic system.

But problems followed. They required all federal employees to submit weekly reports—miss one, and you’re automatically considered resigned; no-show, and you’re put on administrative leave with docked pay. This “wolf culture” might work in startups, but in government, it triggered fierce backlash.

Numbers Game: $2 Trillion Target vs. $160 Billion Reality

At first, Musk boasted they’d cut $2 trillion from the federal budget. What’s $2 trillion? About a third of the government’s annual spending. Another leader, Ramaswamy, went further, claiming they’d slash 70% of federal employees.

Sound familiar? Yep, it’s the kind of exaggerated narrative you see in crypto whitepapers—“We’ll revolutionize XX field,” “Target market cap XXX.” Draw a big vision, and attention naturally follows.

Reality? DOGE claimed to have cut about $160 billion in spending. Sounds big, but that’s less than a fifth of Musk’s initial promise. Even more awkward, a Senate investigation reported DOGE “wasted” over $21 billion in six months.

How was it wasted? The Department of Energy’s loan program was halted, costing the government $263 million in interest; USAID shut down, leaving $110 million worth of food and medicine to rot in warehouses. This wasn’t saving money—it was burning it.

The gap between grand narrative and actual execution kept growing. At this point, you realize even politics has its own “rug pull” projects.

Endgame: When the Meme Tide Recedes, Who’s Left Swimming Naked?

From its high-profile debut to quiet exit, the contrast was whiplash-inducing.

In May, Musk announced his resignation, citing a breakdown with Trump over some bill. That summer, DOGE staff gradually left headquarters, with security posts and official signage disappearing. By this month, Office of Personnel Management Director Kuper confirmed: DOGE no longer exists, and its functions have been absorbed by the OPM.

Even the signature “government-wide hiring freeze” was lifted. What about the former team? Some went to the National Design Studio; some became Chief Technology Officers at the Department of Health. This means DOGE as an independent experiment is over, but some of its ideas are being absorbed and digested by the traditional system.

Florida Governor DeSantis commented on X: “DOGE fought the swamp, but the swamp won.” That’s pretty telling—put in crypto terms: the retail crowd tried to flip the table, but in the end, the whales still call the shots.

Final Thoughts: The Political Testing Ground for the Symbolic Economy

Honestly, DOGE is a pretty thought-provoking case. It proves one thing: crypto culture has more penetration power than we imagined. From naming and communication to organization and rhetoric, these things born in the crypto world are spilling into traditional domains.

But it also exposes a problem: how far can pure narrative and symbolism really go?

When the Shiba Inu meme loses its novelty, when the “chainsaw for bureaucracy” slogan gets old, it all comes back to the same question: What problems have you actually solved? Between the $2 trillion target and $160 billion reality is a massive execution gap; behind $21 billion in losses is the direct clash between radicalism and system complexity.

Memes can build consensus and create hype, but narratives without technological grounding and real value creation are castles in the air. Same in crypto, same in politics. When the meme heat fades, what remains are the things that really solve problems—be it code, product, or policy.

Maybe we’ll see more “crypto-native” political experiments in the future, but the key is combining innovation with stability in governance. After all, a project that only shouts slogans and a department that only draws big promises are basically the same thing.

Dogecoin is still here, but DOGE is gone. That ending is a little ironic.