Terminations, reductions in force, administrative leave, and temporary restraining orders — and Tesla CEO Elon Musk — are all associated with the Trump administration’s newly launched Department of Government Efficiency, better known as DOGE.
The department has made headlines for mass firings, contract cancellations, and the hollowing of key federal agencies. Yet, little is known about how DOGE actually operates. Though Musk admits DOGE may only trim $150 billion from federal spending — well below its $1 trillion goal—the behind-the-scenes process offers clues about the administration’s broader governing style.
Internal documents obtained by Forbes and interviews with those involved in DOGE’s handling of the United States Interagency Council on Homelessness (USICH) reveal a process best described as chaotic and opaque.
On the day the Senate voted to fund the federal government through September 2025, President Trump signed an executive order reducing USICH to its “statutory functions and associated personnel to the minimum presence and function required by law.”
USICH, established by Congress in 1987, coordinates the federal response to homelessness. According to Jeff Olivet — who served as USICH executive director under the Biden administration — the council’s very purpose has always been government efficiency.
“When the agency came into being, and ever since, it has been with the explicit purpose of government efficiency,” said Olivet, senior adviser for the initiative on health and homelessness at the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health. “Half the name of DOGE is the fundamental mission of the agency. Our council’s role is to coordinate, to streamline, to eliminate duplication of funding and of efforts, and to make the best impact possible with these various federal funding streams.”
But just two weeks after Trump’s order, DOGE sent an email requesting a meeting with USICH senior staff, referencing the executive order and floating the possibility of reducing or closing the agency.
Despite its modest $4 million budget, no grantmaking authority, and a 2028 sunset clause, few at USICH anticipated a collision with the DOGE wrecking ball. Over a decade, the agency had achieved significant results, including a 55% decrease in veteran homelessness since 2010.
“It was a germ of an idea at USICH that led to real impact,” Olivet explained. “We partnered with HUD, the VA, and Congress. With the right strategy and funding, we changed lives.”
None of that mattered to DOGE.
The first meeting hastily took place over Google Meet — an unsecure choice, especially after DOGE requested personally identifiable information. According to multiple sources, DOGE’s representative, Nate Cavanaugh, introduced himself as “the boss” and offered no formal appointment letter until pressed for one.
Days later, USICH received notice that Kenneth Jackson, a high-ranking USAID official, had been appointed as the new executive director. However, Jackson delegated all responsibilities to Cavanaugh.
“Typically, there is an appointment letter when the council gets an agency director, and it was days before I got that information,” one source said on the condition of anonymity.
In that letter, Jackson, whose roles include: State Department senior advisor; deputy administrator for management and resources, and chief financial officer at U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID); and agency head for the U.S. Institute of Peace, the Inter-American Foundation, and USICH, was appointed as executive director.
After a cursory review, Cavanaugh decided all but one staffer would be laid off. Those offered “deferred resignations” would remain on payroll—on administrative leave—until September 30. The entire meeting lasted fifteen minutes and, according to attendees, felt scripted and devoid of understanding about federal operations. DOGE informed staff that it interpreted the statutory staffing requirement as just one person—effectively gutting the agency. Cavanaugh himself admitted he hadn’t read the Reduction in Force (RIF) plan submitted to the Office of Personnel Management, which was due to the Trump administration on the same day the order was signed.
“It’s evident that they’re speaking from a point of having no real-world experience or experience with the federal government,” another anonymous source said. “Because there are many procedures, many processes that we are paid to be experts in.”
The source continued, “They had no grasp of agency protocols. They were reading off a template. It was robotic—like an AI module.”
DOGE staff, several sources say, have since been unreachable for basic HR and payroll questions. Meanwhile, the General Services Administration abruptly canceled the agency’s office lease at 1275 First Street NE, a move USICH officials say occurred independently of DOGE. They were instead instructed to use the much-maligned SpaceMatch.gov system, which has previously placed displaced federal employees in everything from abandoned restaurants to crowded shared spaces.
Within a week of DOGE’s arrival, USICH had been reduced to a single employee: a payroll administrator. Those declining the deferred resignation were immediately RIFed.
Senators Susan Collins (R-ME) and Jack Reed (D-RI) urged the Trump administration to maintain USICH’s staffing, describing the agency as “cost-effective” and “critical.” Their bipartisan letter to OMB fell on deaf ears.
Rep. Maxine Waters (D-CA) also condemned the move.
“As if dismantling HUD wasn’t enough, the Trump administration quietly gutted USICH late on a Friday night, hoping no one would notice,” Waters said. “It’s clear Trump has no idea what USICH does or why it matters.”
Even as Congress pushed back, DOGE prevailed, leading many government professionals to question the viability of checks and balances.
“As a government professional, I have spent my life and career upholding my oath to the country and, most importantly, the Constitution and the checks and balances prescribed in it,” a USICH staffer said on the condition of anonymity. “But this process makes clear that the checks we count on are little more than theater.”
In FY 2020, African-American women represented 11.7% of the civilian federal workforce, nearly double their representation in the civilian labor force. One USICH employee believes that Trump’s targeting of the USICH and agencies like it is an affront to Black women civil servants.
“Highly skilled professional Black women in government service make up a great deal of those being targeted by DOGE,” one USICH employee told Forbes. “Undergirding the middle class of Southern Maryland, Northern Virginia, Washington, D.C., and communities throughout the nation. The rogue firing of these workers put the middle class in peril.”
Despite the agency’s dismantling, Olivet believes USICH’s legacy will endure, highlighting the council’s work in Denver and Dallas.
“Throughout the entirety of the Biden administration, our focus was to have real community impact,” he said. “We tried to push money, resources, information and support out to communities that are not as easily undone once you’ve already been out.”
Yet as homelessness continues to climb, and local governments struggle under increasing burdens, the future remains uncertain. With USICH defunded and dismantled, one pressing question looms: In Trump’s “Golden Era,” who will stand between the unhoused and the street?