Elon Musk told a friendly interviewer this week that his headline-grabbing stint running the Department of Government Efficiency — better known by its internet-friendly name, DOGE — was only "somewhat successful," and that, given the chance, he wouldn't sign up for the job again.
The admission came on "The Katie Miller Podcast," a conversation notable not just for its candor but for who was doing the asking: Katie Miller, a former DOGE adviser and a former White House spokeswoman married to Trump aide Stephen Miller. Musk, who left the role in May after a few tumultuous months, described the fast-moving effort to pare back federal spending as harder and costlier — politically and personally — than he'd expected.
A short, loud experiment
DOGE arrived with theatrical promises and a simple message: cut waste, slash unnecessary programs, and save taxpayers huge sums. Musk at times talked as if the cuts could reach into the trillions; later figures he floated were smaller but still ambitious. Behind the slogans, the effort triggered sweeping personnel moves — tens or hundreds of thousands of federal employees were affected as layoffs and buyouts rippled through agencies — and prompted sharp criticism from career civil servants, advocacy groups and some policy experts.
Musk told Miller the operation had prevented so-called "zombie payments" and that better coding and data controls could remove some needless disbursements, a claim he put as high as $100–$200 billion a year. Outside analysts, however, have said independent verification is impossible because DOGE did not release transparent accounting of its methods or outcomes.
"We were a little bit successful," Musk said. "We were somewhat successful." He added, more pointedly, that he now regrets the personal and business fallout: "Instead of doing DOGE, I would have basically worked on my companies. They wouldn't have been burning the cars," he said, referencing acts of vandalism and arson that targeted Tesla dealerships and vehicles after he joined the administration.
Political theater, practical limits
Musk's brief tenure was always a blend of policy tinkering and spectacle: he brandished a chainsaw at a conservative conference to symbolize cuts, pushed staffing and budget changes through rapid memos and issued public promises that outpaced the usual, slower legal and operational machinery of government.
That style collided with entrenched bureaucracies. Officials complained about data access, rushed transitions, and proposals that, critics said, put ideological goals ahead of careful evaluation. DOGE's opponents argued the effort gutted important programs — including foreign aid and refugee services — in ways that would have long-term human costs.
By late autumn the initiative was quietly folded. Musk had already stepped back in May amid a public falling-out with the president; DOGE was formally disbanded months later.
What it cost — and what it didn't
The episode left multiple accounting problems. DOGE supporters say it stopped wasteful spending; detractors note that federal outlays rose year-over-year and that documented savings were far smaller than early boasts. The lack of a clear, auditable ledger for the work has meant the agency's headline figures remain contested.
For Musk the cost was partly reputational and partly financial: Tesla's stock wobbled in the months after his appointment and, he said, consumer anger translated into vandalism of vehicles and dealerships. On the other hand, his other ventures remain on ambitious trajectories — SpaceX is preparing for major funding and an IPO that could reshape valuations in aerospace.
Musk's appearance also touched on broader themes beyond the White House: the role of private billionaires in public policy, the limits of rapid managerial fixes inside a constitutional government, and the political risks of mixing corporate leadership with partisan governance.
A loose end for the tech-politics era
If there is an end to the DOGE story it is an uneasy one. The program has been closed, but questions about how policy experiments run by outside advisers should be run — and who gets to count the savings — remain. The episode also reinforced how much modern governance now plays out in real time, amplified by social media and podcast stages, rather than solely through slow-moving, accountable institutions.
Musk's own assessment was plain-spoken: "No, I don't think so," he said when asked if he'd do DOGE again. It was an unvarnished conclusion from a man who tested how much a Silicon Valley-style approach could bend federal machinery — and found that it bent back.
For context on the podcast medium that framed this exchange, the growing tools for podcasters and listeners are changing how political figures reach audiences; Apple recently added features that reshape episode navigation and discovery podcasting landscape. And for a reminder of how Musk's companies intersect with public services, his SpaceX work has been tied into efforts to extend emergency messaging via satellite networks like Starlink texting 911 over Starlink.