The Reason I’m Scared of DOGE

There is a whirlwind of news that we are bombarded with each day, and it can be difficult to find any grasp of what is happening in our country. There is a piece that I want to emphasize as especially important to us as engineers though: The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). As the head of DOGE, Elon Musk is employing an intentional strategy: choosing to have most of its members, lieutenants, and grunts be engineers, especially young engineers. As young engineers ourselves, I ask everyone to reflect on why that is. 

My theory is this: as engineers, we’re trained to dive headfirst into things we don’t know about and work our way out to understand, change, and optimize. Yet we are primarily—if not solely—trained to see through a technical lens. I see it manifest in countless ways in myself and at Olin. There’s a problem: Let me try to fix it! Something is inefficient: Let me optimize it! Build this thing: Learn enough about it to experiment with! There’s a constant desire to dive right into solving the problem before we step back and look at the pool: is it worth diving in? And how far might our ripples flow? It limits our awareness of the world and our perception of the impact we have on it. I reflect on CD, the class that encourages us most to engage with non-technical concepts of impact. For all of the care and understanding we were taught to search for, how many concluded that society itself had a fundamental necessity for change? Our designs were limited by the implicit conception of what we could offer as engineers—what products we could create within established systems, not what larger change or impact we could dwell upon. And CD is the core class that most centers a non-technical impact approach to our education! Our other engineering experiences are about finely polishing our technical lenses. Any larger evaluation of non-technical impacts are briefly tacked onto a class or two, if addressed at all. Intentional or not, and no matter what values we state, those experiences train us to not dwell long upon the larger societal impact of our work.

Many DOGE engineers did not shape their lives around the larger societal impact they would have, but on doing the technical work that was best for themselves. I know this because they didn’t go to create non-profits or change policy or improve public interest technologies after college. They went to study engineering, then they went to intern or work at Tesla and SpaceX, likely because it would pay them the most or give them the best technical experience or was simply just cool engineering work. They shaped their lives around honing their technical, problem-solving abilities, then choosing the work that was most personally profitable. When they were offered a spot in DOGE, it made sense economically to bind themselves to Musk and if nothing else, they got a new exciting optimization problem: the government.

In the face of a dauntingly complex and competitive world, we all have been conditioned to look after ourselves: it is the very foundation of our economic system. Especially as engineers, we’re told, implicitly or explicitly, that we are justified in finding what will be the most profitable for us, the impact is for others to decide. I understand there are financial realities, and I acknowledge that I speak from a place of privilege, but an awareness of impact is something that constitutes the very foundation of what makes any person a responsible member of society—a respect and acknowledgement that your choices will unavoidably impact others. In the absence of that awareness of broader perspectives arises an absence of empathy, humility, and understanding.

And that is why I am afraid of DOGE.

The invocation of Nazism is a heavy, overused trope which risks diminishing its true horror. But in observing DOGE, I see a clear parallel of how engineers become the mechanisms of hate, of how an indifferent and banal evil arises when technical education is divorced from broader perspectives. 

The parallel is of Albert Speer.1 Young and ambitious, he graduated in architecture from the Technical University of Berlin but lacked any real political fervor. He aligned himself with the Nazi Party in the 30’s largely because their promise to reinvent German culture would afford him more opportunities to do the grand architecture he envisioned creating. By 1933, he was lucratively involved in designing pageantry and building plans, and when war broke out, Speer was chosen as the Minister of Armaments and War Production. In 1943, the London Observer examined him: 

“Speer is, in a sense, more important for Germany today than Hitler, Himmler, Goering, Goebbels or the generals. Speer is not one of the flamboyant and picturesque Nazis. Whether he has any other than conventional political opinions is unknown. He might have joined any other political party that gave him a job and a career. He is very much the average man, well dressed, civil, non-corrupt, very middle class in his style of life, with a wife and six children. Much less than any of the other German leaders does he stand for anything particularly German or particularly Nazi. He rather symbolizes a type which has become increasingly important in all belligerent countries; the pure technician, the classless, bright young man, without background, with no other original aim than to make his way in the world, and no other means than his technical and managerial ability. It is the lack of psychological and spiritual balast and the ease with which he handles the terrifying technical and organizational machinery of our age which makes this slight type go extremely far nowadays … This is their age; the Hitlers and the Himmlers we may get rid of, but the Speers, whatever happens to this particular man, will be long with us.

This quote serves as a constant, shuddering reminder of what a technical education can mean, and is what we have a responsibility to reckon with as engineers. The employment of technically focused, ambitious youth is the strategy that Elon Musk and the Trump Administration are employing with DOGE members. They were given a directive to make huge cuts, to root out DEI, and to report back. They excel at it. This is not a random coincidence, but an intentional tactic. We’ve seen it used before, and we have to ask ourselves what we must do as we see it now.

I am not saying to eschew engineering as an evil, but know that engineers who do not actively grapple with and work to change their impact are engineers that function as tools, and there will always be those that will seek to use us as such. This can be for good, sure, but more often it is used for extraction, exploitation, and oppression. No movement, no organization, no company, and no regime is possible without the support or, more pertinently, the complicity of its engineers. 

We cannot run behind the justification of a non-partisan and impartial self-interest. We cannot hide behind the thought that someone else would do it anyways. We more than anyone have an obligation to systems-level understanding, knowing what we are building and for whom we are building it. Creating an electric car to learn in college is different from creating an electric car that profits a white supremacist. Optimizing a drone to evaluate infrastructure health is different from optimizing a drone that is going to be used for urban warfare. Building trains is different if you know what, or who, those trains will hold. Your work will not result in the creation of apolitical technologies—it will be placed in the hands of people and organizations that will seek to use them for their own purposes. 

I do not say this to exclude any companies from your job search, but none of us are exempt from confronting the deeper impacts of the work that we do, because that is how we are used. If you plan to work for an organization that you know is not doing good, then actively reflect on the power that you have to change that work from within and strive to do so. Theories of change differ from outside change to inside change and from issue to issue, but no matter what your theory is, you cannot bury your head from your impact for your own self interest. Complicity is exactly what they desire of you.

When I look at DOGE, I don’t see a group of conniving masterminds. I see a group of engineers who I am familiar with: who when they get their directive, see it only as the problem they’ve been given. And the tool gets to work. 

The reason I am afraid of DOGE is not because it is a group of intentionally evil or malicious people, it’s because I see a clear parallel to the worst of history: a clear warning of how technically focused, ambitious people are used. It reminds me of lessons from the past, and it gives me shudders of the future. 

I am afraid of DOGE because it is a group of people that I know well, and who have been trained in the same way that I have been. I am afraid because they demonstrate clearly what can happen if I stop striving to grapple with the complexity of the world and the impact that I am having on it. I urge you to heed the same warning.

  1. Summarizing a person’s life and motivations is hard to do briefly. I do not claim this is a definitive account of Albert Speer, but is what I have found as the impression from the account of a Nuremberg Prosecutor (King) who wrote a book on him and the below quote, as well as other online sources. ↩︎

Transferring and the Sunk Cost Fallacy

I spent a number of years at Olin. During that time, I had a lot of conversations about how Olin wasn’t a good fit. There are plenty of valid academic and non-academic reasons to want to transfer, ranging from “I need to be closer to home to support relatives” to “Olin can’t really support my major,” to just not vibing with the campus culture. Yet, whenever the possibility of transferring to another college came up, everyone just assumed that Olin credits would not be accepted (“what even is a QEA cycle”), that it would be a huge waste of time and money.

That’s why I’m writing this article, to let people know it is possible. If this article were published during my first or second years, I would have started the transfer application process then. Sunk cost is a fallacy.

Can I actually transfer Olin credit?

Yes! You will lose some time, but nowhere near as much as I originally thought.

Let’s use UMass Amherst as an example (because they were the first school to send a credit evaluation).

UMass Amherst accepted 3 years worth of Olin courses… with the sole exception of Circuits. Some courses were marked as satisfying a general education requirement; for example, TLAB1 was marked as satisfying the Biology requirement. Unfortunately, for the courses that were not marked as general education, I do not know how many of these I can apply towards a major. They run a more detailed evaluation after you accept (and I’m still weighing my options).

Don’t forget about potential credits that Olin didn’t accept from high school: community college, AP exams, credits from another institution earned through a high school program (for example, RIT takes credits from PLTW2… if you had to endure PLTW in high school, I offer my condolences).

In the end, if UMass is my final choice, I can probably graduate in 2 years if I choose so. If I returned to Olin, it would most likely take 1.5.

I can’t tell you about any private institutions yet, sorry. They don’t handle transfers on the same rolling basis state schools do. From what I understand, most private institutions limit transfer credits to four semesters, so I will lose two years.

So, you want to transfer:

Here’s some advice that you can’t just Google.

  • Download important records that are behind Microsoft Single Sign On. IT will disable yournamehere@olin.edu. Most important for transferring is to download every syllabus from Canvas (or the course website). Some schools require a syllabus when evaluating your courses for transfer—I forgot to do this, and have been reaching out to professors and my remaining student contacts. This is frustrating.
  • Olin has a prepared letter explaining what the QEA+ISIM+ModSim cycle covers. This was intended for people applying to graduate school, but you can add it as an additional document upload in your transfer applications.
  • Don’t re-use your high school college application essays. One of mine literally made me vomit upon rereading it.
  • Visit campuses. I applied to college during peak ‘rona, and online “tours” really did not influence my top choices. It actually helps to have a sense of the neighborhood (or lack thereof), and how alive the campus feels.
  1. Think Like a Biologist ↩︎
  2. Project Lead the Way ↩︎

An Unpaid Opportunity to Respect Others

It’s a beautiful Saturday morning here in one of the blander corners of New England. The sun is shining, we can finally see the grass again, Babson’s trees are looking fantastic, and I once again stumble into a community Go-Bike left outside leaning against a bike rack. My instinct, as the neighborhood bicycle hall-monitor, is to send a somewhat snarky email to one of my favorite list servs – once again not quite screaming, but recommending – into the void that is your collective Outlook inboxes. I mount the bicycle, point it towards East Hall, and start cruising. Wind blowing through my hair, I’m once again reminded how nice it is to ride a bike. When I return to my room though, my email-writing zeal is not where I left it. Instead, I’m left feeling something closer to reflection. The gist of which, as obvious as it may seem, is as follows: you don’t get anything for returning the bikes. Smug satisfaction is not a reward, nor is negotiating the often cluttered bike/ball room. And further, no one is going to get punished for not doing it; I’m not going to use my awesome detective skills to track you down and honor board you or otherwise scold your inaction.

As much as I would like to make this all about bikes, the issue at hand has nothing to do with them. How often do you think about how lucky we are to be here? Or more precisely, how astounding it is that we have as much latitude as we do? Take issue with admin all you want, I kvetch my heart out too, but don’t lose sight of how much faith and trust is endowed in us as a student body. 24-hour access to 3D printers, liquid nitrogen, a materials science lab, beautiful study spaces, a pool room, professional audio equipment, cameras, bikes, you name it. All with limited or zero oversight or restrictions. This is not inclusive of all the non-24-hour things we are trusted to use responsibly, and is certainly not an exhaustive list. The key word being: trusted. At the same time, it feels that year-over-year, this sense of community responsibility is eroded bit by bit. This is not the least bit speculative. For the second consecutive academic year, the shop has issued a lengthy email imploring more responsible use of the 3D printers. A trackable increase in emails sent by our wonderful library team points to a growingly ungovernable, irresponsible student body.

Most recently, it took the threat of an honor boarding for a lounge couch in East Hall to be returned. I won’t bore you with the numbers on missing bikes again. It’s easy to run this through the typical modern-times Olin student framework of redirecting the blame towards administration, which avoids the simpler explanation: that simply students lack respect for our communal resources. Nobody knows how to just ‘chill out’ anymore. Or perhaps we just can’t continue justifying paying for missing materials that would have been a blissful write-off in the “good old days” none of us personally experienced. In reality, though, it’s hard to deny that we have a role to play in all of this. It’s not in any way inconceivable that some of these open doors we all gleefully tell prospective students about will be under lock and key by the time we graduate. 

Trust is not something we are inherently endowed or owed. I am well aware that sincerity is uncool, and that what I am about to say is somehow even less cool than that, but do you remember that document we all signed during orientation? As jaded as you might feel, I would suggest that it does, at some level, mean something.

Spankly Freaking: This Issue’s Rejected Headlines

From The Spankly Freaking Team…

Once again those turpitudinous “journalists” of the Frankly Speaking Team have worked tirelessly in the repression of true student voices this month… So alas, like Oedipus or Odysseus or whoever the hell the rock pushing dude was, we must take up our perspicacious burden once again to bring you this issue’s rejected headlines.

Dining Hall Fire Uncontrollably Rages Into Meat Freezer, Perfectly Sears Filet Mignon

“Best thing I’ve eaten all month,” says student 

Punxsutawney Phil Just Fucking With Us At This Point

“Oohoohoo, you thought it was Spring? Here’s three inches of snow, now stop waking me up”

You! Yes, You! I Know You Didn’t Go To A SINGLE Faculty Engagement Despite All Those Emails…

Brad Minch is so disappointed… Did you even bother to look at all the emojis he sent?? You disgust me…

Illegal Betting Ring “Guessing Where The Next Hot Water Leak Will Be” Jackpot Now Over $50,000

CORe Funding To Have Meals With Staff Exhausted Immediately As James Is Taken Out To Dinner 57 Times

“I mean, he’s just such a cool dude” said the person ahead of you in the Omelette line

Spreadsheet Spreadsheet Released To Help Organize All The Other Spreadsheets

Furniture Check Fails To Find 2L Couch But Uncovers 3 Chairs, 7 Ping Pong Paddles, 19 Air Hockey Tables, and Kardashev Type III Mouse Civilization

“Godammit, this is why we use hard containers” Says ResLife Team

“Gee I’m So Excited For A Whole ‘Nother Half Of The Semester!” Says First Year Back From Spring Break About To Get Their Shit Rocked

Until next time.  – The Spankly Freaking Team

Drunk Horoscopes

Aries: March 21 – April 19

Welcome back from break—time for a design review! She ideate on my 100 till I converge to just a few.

Taurus: April 20 – May 20

Would you like a new ECE professor? She 😰 on my 😢 till I 😎 ‘er.

Gemini: May 21 – June 20

Have you figured out where you’re living next year? She nudge on my triple till I volunteer.

Cancer: June 21 – July 22

My hole is infected, better call Pfizer. She burst on my hot water pipe till I geyser.

Leo: July 23 – August 22

6 orgasms, 12 donuts, 18 miles, 24 beers. Change my mind. She run up my dough cos I’m on that grind.

Virgo: August 23 – September 22

Dum – da – dum – didly – diff. She power on my chords till I down a fifth.

Libra: September 23 – October 22

ChatGPT’s got your back for homework, but don’t let it make you lazy or brittle. She feeds me her essay till I fake it a little.

Scorpio: October 23 – November 21

Finishing your concentration? Your Wellesley course is done, she strike on my picket line till I don’t come (to class).

Sagittarius: November 22 – December 21

For the man who runs multiple classes about drugs, that formal email was crazy. She X on my T till I C.

Capricorn: December 22 – January 19

After all these years… Alisha is moving on to bigger and better things, outside this school. Show up to the farewell party if you’re cool.

Aquarius: January 20 – February 18

Only YOU can create a masterpiece that surpasses orgy in the dark. She stack on my can tower till I finish by the 30-second mark.

Pisces: February 19 – March 20

Give in to your gambling addiction, succumb to the rush. She go all-in on my jacks till I flush.

Editor’s Note: On Change

Oliners have a lot of thoughts. Frankly Speaking aims to be a platform for Oliners to share some of those thoughts with the broader Olin community, beyond their immediate social circles. By contributing your writing to Frankly Speaking, you are empowered to help shape our community through narrative and conversation: sparking widespread discussion, challenging assumptions, lightening someone’s mood, and more. 

Writing is an important act of creation and discovery, through which we can achieve greater understanding of ourselves and the world around us. Even when you’re not the author, critically engaging with written opinions and narratives is a crucial part of staying connected with your community. Through our distribution process, the publication team hopes to encourage this aspect of participating in a community.

We have entered a new era of Olin, one in which the needs of our community and the conversations we need to have are changing rapidly. Frankly Speaking was built to fit a different set of community needs, during a time when we were asking the question: “What should Olin contribute to the world?” However, the Olin we know today is one where we are looking inward more than ever, evaluating our existing infrastructure and the once-dormant tensions that are now bubbling to the surface. The rift between leaders and the broader community requires trust that can only be built with greater transparency, communication, and clarity. Over two decades after Frankly Speaking was founded, Oliners find themselves asking a more urgent and fundamental question: “What should Olin be to itself?” Olin was created as a response to problems intrinsic to traditional engineering education, but now we are faced with problems intrinsic to Olin. 

We are lucky to reach a broad audience: students, staff, faculty, board members, and even people outside the Olin community. Because of this, we have a responsibility to uphold the legitimacy and integrity of our publication. Historically, this structure has rarely been explicit, or came about during a time when there were different and more avenues for communication. But our community has changed, and so too has the role of Frankly Speaking. So, let’s start building a model that can better serve us.

One way we hope to increase clarity is by defining what types of writing might be seen in Frankly Speaking. Submissions tend to fall into a few categories. These differ greatly from each other and should be held to different content standards. Here’s how you’ll see this going into the next academic year:

  • First-person experience
    • Opinion pieces and/or calls to action 
    • Reviews 
    • Narratives, or pieces with no explicit takeaway
  • Fact-based reporting
  • Informational 
  • Interview
  • Games, comedy, satire, etc. 

When a member of the Olin community submits a piece, they must classify that piece as one of the above categories and acknowledge that they have, to the best of their ability, held their writing to its respective standard. (Official guidelines changes are in the works!)

As with everything at Olin, Frankly Speaking will never see a final version. Our work as a publication team is never done. To keep doing it, we need your involvement! Tell us what you think about a recent issue, or walk us through an article you’d love to write. Better yet, join us in producing Frankly Speaking by becoming a staff writer or editor. If you’re interested, we would love to hear from you. Most of all, don’t stop being an active member of the community that makes Olin such a special place. 

Happy reading, 

Maddy Fahey ‘27, Executive Editor

Quinn Verrill ‘27, Editor

Gia-Uyen Tran ‘25, Editor

Notice re: Volume 17, Issue 1

In response to the October article, “I Have Fucking Had It With This College’s Leadership”, the Frankly Speaking team acknowledges that the publication of this article breached our submission guidelines. We have amended the submission guidelines with regards to how articles are deemed suitable for submission, as well as how authors reserve the right to anonymity. 

These changes include:

  • Changing the language around “unpopular opinions” disqualifying someone from anonymity
  • Changing the language regarding “potential negative impact on the community” preventing an article from being published
  • Changing the language around anonymity

The updated submission guidelines can be found on our website at https://franklyspeakingnews.com/submit/.