Monday, February 17, 2025 - Student Union Cafeteria

The student union cafeteria carries the weight of Monday morning—students hunched over laptops, steam rising from coffee cups, the low hum of conversations about weekend plans and upcoming exams. Dr. Brenner spots his colleagues at their usual table by the windows, where winter light turns everything sharp and clear.

Professor Williams waves him over. Professor Kingle is already sketching on a napkin, his tray pushed aside. Dr. Brenner sets down his lunch and slides into the chair.

"Busy week," Professor Kingle says without preamble. "Let's map it."

Professor Kingle leans back, consulting his notes. "Start with Monday. Two executive orders. One ends paper straws in federal facilities—trivial until you see it's a culture war signal. The other halts Foreign Corrupt Practices Act enforcement. That's more serious. Anti-bribery law, been in place since 1977. Now, temporarily suspended."

He sets down his fork. "Same day, a federal court blocked the 15% indirect cost rate on research grants. That'll hit every PI on campus doing federal work. And they extended the Fork in the Road deadline—federal workers squeezed: take the buyout or face uncertainty."

"Tuesday," he continues, "EO 14210 mandates return-to-office for all federal workers. That sounds administrative until you read the fine print—it also authorizes reductions in force. That's the mechanism for cuts. And the USAID Inspector General got fired. Not for corruption or incompetence. For releasing a report critical of USAID's dismantling."

Professor Williams makes a note. "That's different from the earlier IG firings."

"Exactly," Kingle says. "Earlier firings happened without notice. This one, the IG's office released something unflattering, and forty-eight hours later, the IG was gone. The message is clear: IGs who investigate aggressively don't last."

"Wednesday," he says, "eight of the fired inspectors general filed suit challenging their terminations as unlawful. The IG Act requires 30-day notice to Congress and specific reasons. They got email terminations with nothing. Courts will decide whether statutory protections for IGs override presidential removal power."

He pushes forward. "Thursday and Friday brought the real storm. Courts blocked the transgender healthcare restrictions in multiple states. Maryland, Washington, others. The judges are saying these orders likely violate constitutional rights. So now you have a patchwork—the order is law in some places, blocked in others. Meanwhile, families and doctors don't know if treatment continues Monday or gets shut down."

"And Friday," Kingle says, "the Department of Education dropped the Dear Colleague Letter. Universities are now told: you cannot use race in admissions, hiring, scholarships, housing, student organizations, graduation ceremonies—all aspects of university life. Violate it and lose federal funding. The Supreme Court narrowed race-conscious admissions. This expands that to literally everything."

He taps the table. "University administrators read that Friday afternoon. They're already scrambling. Do we change our scholarship criteria? Do we shut down diversity programs? Do we risk losing billions in funding? The pressure is enormous."

"Saturday," he concludes, "EO 14214 prohibited COVID-19 vaccine mandates for school attendance. Symbolic mostly at this point, but it signals: vaccination is now a political issue, not a health issue. And there are reports of massive education grant cancellations—over $600 million in what they call 'divisive teacher training grants,' another $350 million in other programs. All of it framed as cutting 'woke' spending."

He sits back. "Mechanism by mechanism. Each one justified. Each one legal on its face. But cumulatively, they're reshaping the federal government and education system."

Professor Kingle taps his napkin. "Start with the probationary employee purge. Thursday through today. This is the biggest personnel action yet."

He draws a timeline. "In the federal system, when you're hired or promoted, you serve a probationary period—usually one to two years. During that time, you can be fired more easily than career employees who have full civil service protections. That's normal. The question is: can the administration use that mechanism to conduct a mass ideological purge?"

"Here's how it worked," he continues. "Thursday, OPM tells agency HR: fire your probationary employees. Friday, they formalize it with a memo: you have until Monday to terminate them. Agencies are given a 200-character limit—the length of a tweet—to justify keeping anyone. That's not a merit review. That's a quota system."

Professor Williams leans forward. "Think about what that does to people psychologically. You were hired last year. You're doing good work—maybe you even got positive performance reviews. Thursday you hear rumors. Friday you get a termination notice saying you 'failed to demonstrate fitness.' How do you process that?"

She stirs her soup. "Your brain tries to make sense of it. Did I do something wrong? Was my work not good enough? But then you see that thousands of others got the same notice. It's not about your performance. It's about something you can't control—when you were hired, or what administration hired you, or maybe what you said, or who you know."

"Learned helplessness," she says. "When outcomes don't match effort, people shut down."

She pauses, setting down her spoon. "Or they become hypervigilant—constantly scanning for threat, never relaxed, always performing loyalty instead of doing their actual job."

Dr. Brenner sets down his coffee. "Stalin's purges, 1936-1938. Not just obvious opponents. He targeted people based on when they joined the party, where they'd served, who they'd worked with. The purge logic was: anyone associated with the old guard is suspect. Better to remove them all than risk one being disloyal. The numbers were staggering—hundreds of thousands fired, arrested, killed. The bureaucracy learned to stop questioning orders."

"The agency-specific numbers are telling," Professor Kingle says, consulting his notes. "USDA: 6,000 employees. Defense: 5,400. VA: over 1,000. NIH: 1,100 on admin leave, another 1,000 planned for termination. NOAA: 650. These aren't small cuts. These are organizational gutting."

He makes columns. "Legal question: does the executive branch have authority to use probationary status as a mass termination tool? Technically, probationary employees have fewer protections. But can that be weaponized for ideological screening? Courts will examine whether this violates merit system principles, equal protection, or amounts to viewpoint discrimination."

Professor Williams tilts her head. "And for the survivors—the people who keep their jobs—what did they just learn? They learned that competence doesn't protect you. Performance reviews don't matter. What matters is… what? Loyalty? Silence? Not being associated with the wrong people or programs?"

"That creates a culture of fear," she says. "People stop speaking up in meetings. They don't flag problems. They don't offer innovative ideas that might be seen as critical. The organization becomes less effective because everyone's focused on survival instead of mission."

Dr. Brenner watches students at nearby tables, oblivious to this conversation. "Hungary, 2010-2012. Orbán didn't announce a purge. He just restructured ministries, reclassified positions, moved people around. Within two years, the civil service was transformed from independent to loyal without any dramatic announcement. The mechanism was administrative procedure used systematically."

"The Dear Colleague Letter on Friday," Professor Kingle continues. "The Department of Education told universities: you cannot use race in admissions, hiring, promotion, compensation, financial aid, scholarships, housing, graduation ceremonies, or 'all aspects of student, academic, and campus life.' Violate this and you risk losing federal funding."

He draws a scale. "Legally, this follows the Supreme Court's 2023 decision striking down race-conscious admissions at Harvard and UNC. But that case was narrowly about admissions. This letter expands the ruling to literally everything—hiring faculty, awarding scholarships, even organizing student groups or graduation ceremonies."

"Can they do that?" He shrugs. "That's the question. The Supreme Court didn't address all those other areas. The Education Department is extending the logic. Universities will argue this exceeds the court's holding and statutory authority. It'll be litigated."

Professor Williams wraps her hands around her bowl. "But the immediate effect is massive. University administrators read that letter Friday. They have to make decisions now—do we change our scholarship criteria? Do we shut down our diversity programs? Do we tell student groups they can't organize by identity? Do we risk losing billions in federal funding?"

"And for students," she continues, "especially students of color, the message is clear: programs designed to support you are being eliminated. The university is being told that your identity can't be acknowledged. That creates isolation, alienation, and a sense that you don't belong."

Dr. Brenner thinks of his classroom, the way Marcus watches everything with careful eyes. "South Africa during apartheid. The government didn't just segregate. They made it illegal to teach certain histories, to organize across racial lines, to acknowledge racial injustice. Universities that resisted lost funding, lost accreditation, had faculty arrested. Education became a tool of control, not liberation."

"Over 60 higher education associations pushed back," Professor Kingle notes. "Led by ACE, they sent a letter calling for rescission. That's significant institutional opposition. But whether it changes the policy is another question."

"The Foreign Corrupt Practices Act suspension," Professor Kingle says, moving to his next topic. "Monday's EO 14209. The FCPA makes it illegal for U.S. companies to bribe foreign officials. It's been in place since 1977. This order temporarily halts enforcement."

He taps the table. "Why have an anti-bribery law? Because American companies competing overseas should compete on merit, not corruption. Because we don't want our businesses contributing to corrupt foreign regimes. Because it levels the playing field."

"So suspending enforcement signals: for now, we're not prosecuting companies that bribe foreign officials. Legally, the president has prosecutorial discretion—the power to set enforcement priorities. But this is unusual—suspending an entire statute's enforcement across the board."

Professor Williams sets down her spoon. "For business executives, that creates a moral hazard. If enforcement is paused, why not try to win contracts through bribes? The risk calculation changes. And for foreign officials, it signals that American companies are back in the bribery game."

"Long-term," she adds, "this erodes trust in American business globally. If our companies become known for corruption, that damages our competitive position even after enforcement resumes. Reputation matters."

Dr. Brenner looks out at the Quad, the snow impossibly bright. "Russia in the 1990s. After the Soviet Union collapsed, the new government suspended or stopped enforcing many anti-corruption laws. The thinking was: let business operate freely, don't over-regulate. Within a decade, corruption was endemic. Oligarchs captured whole industries through bribery. By the time Putin tried to reassert control, it was too late—corruption was structural."

"The IGs filing suit on Wednesday," Professor Kingle says. "Eight of the fired inspectors general sued, arguing their terminations were unlawful. The IG Act requires 30-day notice to Congress and reasons. They got email terminations with no notice, no reasons."

He makes two columns. "Their argument: the statute is mandatory, not discretionary. The president can't ignore it. The government's argument will likely be: the president has removal power; these requirements are unconstitutional constraints on executive authority."

"Courts will decide whether statutory protections for IGs can limit presidential removal power," he continues. "It's a separation of powers question. Congress created these positions with certain safeguards. Can the president override those safeguards?"

Professor Williams nods. "Meanwhile, the remaining IGs and career investigators are watching. If their bosses can be fired without warning for doing their jobs, what message does that send? Probably: don't investigate too aggressively. Don't issue reports that embarrass leadership. Keep your head down."

"That's how you eliminate oversight without eliminating the office," she says. "You fire enough people dramatically enough that the survivors self-censor. The watchdog stops barking."

Dr. Brenner thinks of his grandmother, the stories she wouldn't tell. "The Night of the Long Knives again. Hitler didn't just purge the SA. He sent a message to everyone else: loyalty is survival. Competence is irrelevant. After June 1934, German institutions stopped resisting. They'd seen what happened to those who did."

"The court rulings blocking transgender healthcare restrictions," Professor Kingle says. "Thursday and Friday, multiple federal judges issued orders blocking EO 14187. That's the order restricting gender transition care for minors."

He draws a map. "We now have judges in Maryland, Washington, and elsewhere blocking implementation. These are preliminary injunctions—temporary orders while litigation proceeds. But they create a patchwork. The order might be blocked in some states but enforced in others."

"This is the judicial system pushing back," he continues. "Judges are looking at the order and saying: this likely violates constitutional rights—equal protection, substantive due process, parental rights. We need to preserve the status quo while the case is decided."

Professor Williams wraps her hands around her bowl. "For transgender youth and their families, this is existential. Will my child have access to healthcare? Can our doctor continue treatment? The legal uncertainty is traumatic on top of the underlying medical and social challenges."

"And for the courts," she adds, "this puts them in the political crossfire. Every ruling gets framed as 'activist judges' by one side and 'protecting rights' by the other. The psychological pressure on judges is real—they're being asked to make decisions that will be politicized no matter what."

Dr. Brenner watches the light on the snow, thinking about Wednesday's lecture. "Poland under PiS, 2015-2017. They started by attacking the Constitutional Tribunal—claimed judges were politically biased, refused to seat new justices, passed laws limiting judicial review. Each individual action had a legal argument. Cumulatively, they dismantled judicial independence. By the time courts tried to push back, the government just ignored the rulings."

His phone buzzes. He glances down.

Nisha (The Class Portal DM):

Dr. Brenner - my uncle got his termination notice Friday. VA employee, 18 months on the job. Stellar reviews. Is there anything he can do?

Nisha (The Class Portal DM):

Dr. Brenner - my uncle got his termination notice Friday. VA employee, 18 months on the job. Stellar reviews. Is there anything he can do?

Dr. Brenner - my uncle got his termination notice Friday. VA employee, 18 months on the job. Stellar reviews. Is there anything he can do?

Dr. Brenner stares at the screen. He types back:

David:

I'm so sorry. He should document everything—performance reviews, termination notice, timeline. Contact federal employee unions or legal aid. This will be litigated.

David:

I'm so sorry. He should document everything—performance reviews, termination notice, timeline. Contact federal employee unions or legal aid. This will be litigated.

I'm so sorry. He should document everything—performance reviews, termination notice, timeline. Contact federal employee unions or legal aid. This will be litigated.

He looks up. Professor Williams is watching him with knowing eyes.

"One of your students?" she asks gently.

"Her uncle. VA. Terminated Friday under the probationary purge."

Professor Kingle shakes his head. "Multiply that by 24,000. Every termination is a person. Family. Mortgage. Healthcare. It's not abstract."

The three of them sit in the noise of the cafeteria—ordinary Monday noise, students worried about ordinary things. Dr. Brenner wonders how many of them know what's happening. How many care.

"Wednesday's lecture," Dr. Brenner says. "The Reichstag Fire. How do I teach that without…"

"Without making the parallel explicit?" Professor Williams finishes. "You teach the mechanism. Emergency powers. How crisis gets weaponized. How institutions get captured one by one. You trust your students to see what's in front of them."

Professor Kingle nods. "The facts speak. February 27, 1933: Reichstag burns. February 28: emergency decree suspends civil liberties. March 5: election under emergency conditions. March 23: Enabling Act passes. Fifty-two days from appointment to dictatorship, all technically legal."

"And here," Professor Kingle continues, "we're at day 28 since inauguration. Schedule F restored. Two million workers offered buyouts. Seventeen IGs fired. Twenty-four thousand probationary employees terminated. Courts issuing rulings, Congress pushing back, protests erupting. The pattern is visible. The question is whether the system holds."

Professor Williams looks at Dr. Brenner. "How's Elena? How are you both managing?"

"Eight weeks," Dr. Brenner says. "She's… we're taking it day by day. Some days are better than others. She wants me to be more direct in class. I keep thinking about what world this child will inherit in September."

"That's the question," Professor Williams says quietly. "What world are we leaving them?"

They sit in silence for a moment. Then Professor Kingle gathers his napkins, folding them carefully. "Same time next Monday," he says.

"If we're all still here," Professor Williams adds, but she's half-smiling, trying to lighten it.

After they leave, Dr. Brenner remains at the table. The cafeteria empties around him. Through the windows, he can see students crossing the Quad, backpacks slung over shoulders, heading to class or the library or back to dorms. Living their lives. Making plans. Assuming tomorrow will look like today.

He thinks about Wednesday. The Reichstag Fire. How to teach it clearly enough that students understand: this is how democracies die. Not in one dramatic coup. Not with jackboots and midnight arrests on day one. Gradually. Legally. With each action justified by emergency, each violation excused by necessity, each institution captured in the name of efficiency or security or the will of the people.

Until one day you can't pinpoint when normal ended. It didn't end. It moved. One executive order at a time. One court ruling at a time. One purge at a time.

Twenty-four thousand families got termination notices this week. That's not a number. That's names. Faces. Children. Mortgages. Dreams.

Nisha's uncle at the VA. Eighteen months of service. Stellar reviews. Terminated because… why? Because he was hired under the wrong administration? Because his position was convenient to eliminate? Because he was in the wrong 200-character justification batch?

Dr. Brenner stands, gathers his tray, and heads back to prepare for Wednesday. Reichstag Fire. Emergency decree. Enabling Act. Fifty-two days.

They're at day 28.

Mechanisms, not labels. But mechanisms anyone with eyes can see.