Monday, February 24, 2025 - Student Union Cafeteria

The cafeteria hum feels heavier this week. Dr. Brenner slides his tray next to Professor Williams's untouched soup and Professor Kingle's half-eaten sandwich. The winter light through the windows is harsh and bright.

"Week five," Professor Kingle says, marking his napkin. "Let's map the damage."

He checks his notes. "Start with last week—Monday through Friday. The deadline for the probationary employee terminations we discussed hit on the seventeenth. Thousands completed across the federal government by then. Some of that happened earlier, but the OPM enforced the deadline hard. Same day the court blocked the 15% research funding cap—so one restraint held. But the damage was already done."

"Between Thursday and Monday," he continues, "over $600 million in what they called 'divisive teacher training grants' were canceled. Another $350 million in education programs cut. Multi-year grant commitments, just gone."

He flips his page. "Tuesday brought two big moves. EO 14215—'Ending Taxpayer Subsidization of Open Borders.' This one prohibits federal funding to any NGO that assists undocumented immigrants and directs agencies to terminate benefits to undocumented individuals. Legally defensible under spending power. Politically explosive."

"But the bigger Tuesday move," he says, tapping his napkin emphatically, "was this: another order attempted to extend presidential control over independent regulatory agencies—FCC, SEC, FTC, FEC—by requiring them to submit all regulations to OMB for review and approval before implementation. It was immediately challenged as unconstitutional."

He scribbles a note. "Wednesday was the scheduled effective date for the birthright citizenship order, but courts had already blocked it nationwide."

"Friday, they sued," he finishes. "The Associated Press, banned from presidential events for refusing to use 'Gulf of America' in their reporting. This morning, Judge McFadden declined their emergency motion. The ban stands."

He sets down his pen. "So. Three items to work through: the independent agency order, the education funding cuts, and the press access question. All three are mechanisms—different but connected."

He draws boxes: President, Congress, Independent Agencies. "Why do independent agencies exist? Congress created them–SEC, FCC, FTC, FEC–to regulate markets, communications, elections without direct presidential control. Some decisions shouldn't flip every four years based on who wins. You want stable, expert-driven rules."

"These agencies have commissioners," he continues, sketching connections between the boxes. "Multiple members from different parties. They serve staggered terms. The president can't just fire them for disagreeing with policy. That structure is deliberate–Congress wanted independence from political pressure."

"Now the order says: before you issue any regulation, submit it to OMB–the Office of Management and Budget, which reports directly to the president–for review and approval." He circles the OMB box. "That turns 'independent' agencies into extensions of the White House. It's like telling a jury they have to clear their verdict with the prosecutor before announcing it."

Professor Williams sets down her spoon. "Think about what that does to the people working there. You're an SEC lawyer drafting a rule about market manipulation. You know your job is to protect investors, not please the White House. Do you write what you believe and fight for it? Or soften it preemptively, anticipating what OMB will accept?"

She pauses. The question hangs.

"That's anticipatory compliance," she continues. "You censor yourself before anyone tells you to, because you know the consequences. The OMB veto threat becomes invisible—everyone just knows to write smaller, safer rules from the start."

She stirs her coffee slowly. "Over time, the agency stops functioning as a check on presidential power. It becomes an extension of it. And the markets, the public—they lose the independent referee Congress created."

She leans forward slightly. "What people don't realize is that this doesn't require dramatic firings or public purges. It just requires one order, one implicit threat. The rest of the system self-corrects out of fear."

Dr. Brenner wraps his hands around his coffee cup. "Orbán's Hungary, 2010-2014. He didn't eliminate independent institutions. He captured them. Media oversight boards, election commissions, judicial councils–he changed appointment rules, stacked them with loyalists, redefined their mandates. Within four years, 'independent' institutions were rubber-stamping government decisions. The structure looked the same on paper. The function was gutted."

Professor Kingle sets down his pen. "The courts will decide if this order is constitutional," he says. "The legal question: can Congress create agencies insulated from direct presidential control? The Supreme Court has said yes in some cases, no in others. This will be litigated for years. But immediately? The message to agencies is clear: the president wants control."

Professor Williams leans forward. "And for career staff, that's terrifying. Monday, thousands of probationary employees were fired. Tuesday, the president tries to bring independent agencies under White House control. The pattern is unmistakable: loyalty matters more than expertise. If you're not aligned with the administration, you're vulnerable."

She pauses. "What makes this effective is that agencies start policing themselves. You don't need firings if people are already self-censoring."

"The education grants," Professor Kingle says, checking his notes. "$600 million in teacher training, $350 million in other programs. Canceled between last Thursday and Monday. Agencies had to notify schools, universities, nonprofits: your funding is gone."

He makes a timeline. "These were multi-year grants. Schools budgeted for them. Hired staff. Planned programs. Suddenly the money disappears. Legally, this likely falls under the Impoundment Control Act issue we discussed weeks ago–can the executive just refuse to spend money Congress appropriated?"

"But the immediate effect is chaos," he continues. "Imagine a school district planning a summer teacher training program on inclusive classrooms. They hired facilitators, booked space, enrolled teachers. Now what? Cancel the program? Scramble for other funding? Fire the staff they just hired?"

Professor Williams sets down her spoon. "And for teachers, the message is: certain topics are forbidden. What counts as 'divisive'? Critical race theory? Gender identity? Structural inequality? The ambiguity is the point. When you don't know where the line is, you stay far away from it."

"That's the chilling effect," she continues. "Even teachers whose programs weren't canceled start self-censoring out of fear."

She pauses, stirring her coffee slowly.

"Maybe I won't assign that book. Skip that historical event. Just stick to the safest possible curriculum."

She pauses. "Education becomes sanitized, not because of what's explicitly banned, but because of what might be. The threat does the work."

She leans back. "The system captures itself through fear. You don't need government censors in every classroom if teachers are already afraid."

Dr. Brenner thinks of his classroom, the careful way he frames Hitler's rise. "After the Reichstag Fire in 1933, the Nazis didn't immediately ban all education about democracy. They made it dangerous. Teachers who emphasized Weimar-era pluralism, who taught about civil liberties, who assigned 'degenerate' literature–they lost jobs, faced investigations. By 1935, most teachers taught nationalist curriculum voluntarily. The threat was enough."

Professor Kingle straightens his napkin pile. "The town hall disruption in Georgia," he says. "Thursday. Constituents confronting their congressman over federal layoffs. This is democracy functioning–citizens holding elected officials accountable."

"But it also shows fractures. Republican lawmakers voted for DOGE, for deregulation, for shrinking government. Now their constituents–many of whom are federal workers or families of federal workers–are angry. The political calculation is shifting."

Professor Williams tilts her head. "Psychologically, this is the moment when abstract policy becomes personal. 'Cut the bureaucracy' sounds good in a campaign ad. When your neighbor loses her VA job, when your kid's school cancels teacher training, when the local Social Security office has two-hour wait times because half the staff was fired–that's different. And anger needs somewhere to go," she adds. "Town halls are one outlet. Protests are another. The question is whether institutions–Congress, courts, media–can channel that anger into accountability, or whether it just boils over into chaos."

Dr. Brenner remembers the protests Elena attended in January, her quiet fury when she came home. "Weimar Germany, 1930-1932. Street protests, political violence, economic crisis. People were angry, desperate, looking for someone to fix it. The Nazis promised order, efficiency, strength. Many Germans saw Hitler not as a threat to democracy but as its savior–he would cut through the bureaucracy, punish the corrupt elites, restore Germany's pride. The anger was real," Dr. Brenner continues. "The grievances were real. The solution was catastrophic."

Professor Kingle taps his final note. "The AP lawsuit," he says. "Friday, they sued after being banned from presidential events for refusing to use 'Gulf of America' in their reporting. This morning, Judge McFadden declined emergency relief. The ban stands."

He draws two columns: Government Speech vs. Press Freedom. "Can the president control what journalists write as a condition of access? Legally, the government can engage in its own speech–calling something the Gulf of America. But can it punish journalists who don't use that language?"

"This is viewpoint discrimination," he continues. "If you say what we want, you get access—if you don't, you're excluded. Courts are suspicious of that, especially in First Amendment cases. The AP's argument: this chills press freedom. The government's argument will likely be: we set the terms for our events."

Professor Williams shakes her head. "For journalists, this is impossible. Your job is to report facts independently. If the government says 'you can only cover us if you use our language,' you either comply and lose credibility, or resist and lose access. And for the public," she adds, "it's another erosion. If the press can't cover the government without agreeing to use propaganda language, how do citizens get accurate information? Democracy requires informed voters. This undermines that."

Dr. Brenner watches a student at the next table laugh at something on their phone, utterly unaware. "Every authoritarian government attacks the press. Not always by shutting them down–that's too obvious. Instead, you make access conditional on loyalty. You create tiered systems: compliant journalists get interviews, critical ones get frozen out. Eventually, most media outlets choose access over integrity. It's rational. It's also fatal."

Professor Kingle gathers his napkins, creases them neatly. "So we'll see how the courts rule on the larger issues," he says. "Whether they see this as serious First Amendment violation or lawful hardball."

Professor Williams finally pushes away her soup. "How's Elena?"

Dr. Brenner adjusts his glasses. "We're managing. Ten weeks along now. Due in September. Some days feel almost normal. Other days–" He stops. "She wants me to be clearer in class. I keep trying to find the line between teaching mechanisms and taking sides."

"There may not be a line," Professor Williams says gently. "Sometimes describing the mechanism accurately is taking a side."

They sit in silence. The cafeteria noise continues around them–trays clattering, conversations about exams and spring break plans and ordinary concerns. Dr. Brenner wonders how long ordinary can last.

"Same time next Monday," Professor Kingle says, standing. "Bring more napkins."

After they leave, Dr. Brenner remains at the table. Outside, the Quad is bright with snow that hasn't melted yet, students cutting paths across the white. He thinks about Wednesday's lecture–Hitler's appointment as chancellor, the conservative elites who thought they could control him.

Thirty-five days since inauguration.

Twenty-four thousand probationary employees fired. Independent agencies under attack. Hundreds of millions in education funding canceled. Courts pushing back. Protests erupting. Media being silenced.

The mechanisms are visible, at least to him. The pattern seems clear.

But the question—the one that won't let him sleep—is whether anyone with real power will see it the way he does. Or whether, like those conservative elites in 1933, they'll keep believing they can manage it. Keep believing the institutions will hold. Keep believing that tomorrow will look like yesterday, until the day it doesn't.

Dr. Brenner gathers his things and heads back to his office to prepare Wednesday's lecture.

The Reichstag Fire. The emergency decree. Fifty-two days from Hitler's appointment to the Enabling Act. All of it legal. All procedural. All justified by emergency.

Day 35.