After Donald Trump won this month’s election, one of the first things he did was to name two unelected male plutocrats, Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy, to run a new Department of Government Efficiency. The yet-to-be-created entity’s acronym, DOGE, is something of a joke—a reference to a cryptocurrency named for an internet meme involving a Shiba Inu. But its appointed task of reorganizing the federal bureaucracy and slashing its spending heralds a new political arrangement in Washington: a broligarchy, in which tremendous power is flowing to tech and finance magnates, some of whom appear indifferent or even overtly hostile to democratic tradition.

The broligarchs’ ranks also include the PayPal and Palantir co-founder Peter Thiel—Vice President–Elect J. D. Vance’s mentor, former employer, and primary financial backer—as well as venture capitalists like Marc Andreessen and David Sacks, both of whom added millions of dollars to Trump’s campaign. Musk, to be sure, is the archetype. The world’s richest man has reportedly been sitting in on the president-elect’s calls with at least three heads of foreign states: Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelensky, Serbia’s Aleksandar Vučić, and Turkey’s Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. Musk joined Trump in welcoming Argentine President Javier Milei at Mar-a-Lago and, according to The New York Times, met privately in New York with Iran’s ambassador to the United Nations in a bid to “defuse tensions” between that country and the United States. Recently, after Musk publicly endorsed the financier Howard Lutnick for secretary of the Treasury, some in Trump’s camp were concerned that Musk was acting as a “co-president,” The Washington Post reported.

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Musk doesn’t always get what he wants; Trump picked Lutnick to be secretary of commerce instead. Even so, the broligarchs’ ascendancy on both the foreign- and domestic-policy fronts has taken many observers by surprise—including me, even though I wrote last August about the broligarchs’ deepening political alignment with Trump. Though some of them have previously opposed Trump because of his immigration or tariff policies, the broligarchs share his politics of impunity: the idea that some men should be above the law. This defiant rejection of all constraint by and obligation to the societies that made them wealthy is common among the world’s ultrarich, a group whose practices and norms I have studied for nearly two decades. Trump has exemplified this ethos, up to the present moment: He is currently in violation of a law—which he signed into effect during his first term—requiring incoming presidents to agree to an ethics pledge.

Trump—who infamously said of sexual assault, “When you’re a star, they let you do it”—cites his celebrity as a basis for his elevation above the law. Many broligarchs also see themselves as exceptional beings, but arrived at that view through a different path: via science fiction, fantasy literature, and comic books. Ideas from these genres have long pervaded Silicon Valley culture; last year, Andreessen published a manifesto calling for “Becoming Technological Supermen,” defined by embarking on a “Hero’s Journey” and “conquering dragons.”

Superhero narratives also appear to inform many of Musk’s more eccentric political views, including his reported belief that the superintelligent have a duty to reproduce, and may help explain why in September he reposted a claim that “a Republic of high status males” would be superior to our current democracy. Last week, Musk likened Matt Gaetz, Trump’s then-nominee for attorney general, to Judge Dredd, a dystopian comic-book character authorized to conduct summary executions. Musk seems to have meant this as a compliment. He described Gaetz—who, until his resignation from the House, was under a congressional investigation in connection with an alleged sex-trafficking scheme—as “our Hammer of Justice.”

[Read: What Elon Musk really wants]

Whatever its source, the broligarchs’ sense of their innate superiority has led many of them to positions on taxation quite similar to Trump’s. In 2016, the Republican presidential nominee bragged about avoiding tax payments for years—“That makes me smart,” he crowed from the debate stage. The broligarchs have quietly liberated themselves from one of the only certainties in life. As ProPublica reported in 2021, Musk paid zero federal income taxes in 2018 and a de facto tax rate of 3.3 percent from 2014 to 2018, during which his wealth grew by $13.9 billion. Thiel used a government program intended to expand retirement savings by middle-class Americans to amass $5 billion in capital-gains income, completely tax-free. The Trump-friendly broligarchs’ political ascendancy turns the rallying cry of the Boston Tea Party on its head, achieving representation with minimal taxation.

In their hostility to taxation and regulation, the men who rule Wall Street and Silicon Valley resemble earlier generations of wealthy capitalists who enjoyed outsize influence on American politics. Even some tech barons who supported Kamala Harris clamored for the firing of Federal Trade Commission Chair Lina Khan, who favors vigorous antitrust enforcement. But the broligarchs are distinct from old-school American oligarchs in one key respect: Their political vision seeks to undermine the nation-state system globally. Musk, among others, has set his sights on the privatization and colonization of space with little or no government involvement. Thiel and Andreessen have invested heavily in creating alternatives to the nation-state here on Earth, including libertarian colonies with minimal taxation. One such colony is up and running in Honduras; Thiel has also invested in efforts to create artificial islands and other autonomous communities to serve as new outposts for private governance. “The nature of government is about to change at a very fundamental level,” Thiel said of these initiatives in 2008.

Cryptocurrency is the financial engine of the broligarchs’ political project. For centuries, states have been defined by two monopolies: first, on the legitimate use of coercive force (as by the military and the police); and second, on control of the money supply. Today’s broligarchs have long sought to weaken government control of global finance. Thiel notes in his 2014 book, Zero to One, that when he, Musk, and others started PayPal, it “had a suitably grand mission … We wanted to create a new internet currency to replace the U.S. dollar.” If broligarchs succeed in making cryptocurrency a major competitor to or replacement for the dollar, the effects could be enormous. The American currency is also the world’s reserve currency—a global medium of exchange. This has contributed to U.S. economic dominance in the world for 80 years and gives Washington greater latitude to use financial and economic pressure as an alternative to military action.

[Read: What to expect from Elon Musk’s government makeover]

Undercutting the dollar could enrich broligarchs who hold considerable amounts of wealth in cryptocurrencies, but would also weaken the United States and likely destabilize the world economy. Yet Trump—despite his pledge to “Make America great again” and his previous claims that crypto was a “scam” against the dollar—now seems fully on board with the broligarchs’ agenda. Signaling this alignment during his campaign, Trump gave the keynote speech at a crypto conference last July; he later pledged to make crypto a centerpiece of American monetary policy via purchase of a strategic bitcoin reserve. The day after the election, one crypto advocate posted on X, “We have a #Bitcoin president.” The incoming administration is reportedly vetting candidates for the role of “crypto czar.”

If American economic and political dominance recedes, the country’s wealthiest men may be well positioned to fill and profit from the power vacuum that results. But is a weakened country, greater global instability, and rule by a wealthy few really what voters wanted when they chose Trump?

Musk spent millions of dollars to support Trump’s campaign and promoted it on X. He’s now doing everything he can to capitalize on Trump’s victory and maximize his own power—to the point of siccing his X followers on obscure individual government officials. Some evidence, including Axios’s recent focus-group study of swing voters, suggests that Americans may already feel queasy about the influence of the broligarchs. “I didn’t vote for him,” one participant said of Musk. “I don't know what his ultimate agenda would be for having that type of access.” Another voter added, “There’s nothing, in my opinion, in Elon Musk’s history that shows that he’s got the best interest of the country or its citizens in mind.” Even so, we can expect him and his fellow broligarchs to extend their influence as far as they can for as long as Trump lets them.

The reelection of Donald Trump might seem like doomsday for America’s public-health agencies. The president-elect has vowed to dismantle the federal bureaucracy.Robert F. Kennedy Jr., potentially his next health czar, wants to go even further. As part of his effort to “Make America healthy again,” Kennedy has recently promised to tear up the FDA and its regulations, including those governing vaccines and raw milk. But that effort is going to run into a major roadblock: the “deep state.”

The phrase deep state might trigger images of tinfoil hats. After all, Trump has spent much of the past eight years falsely claiming that Democratic bureaucrats are unfairly persecuting him. But operating within the federal health agencies is an actual deep state, albeit a much more benign and rational one than what Trump has talked about. And he might not be able to easily tear it down.

Whether you know it or not, you’ve likely seen this deep state in action. It was the reason Trump’s preferred treatment for COVID during the early phases of the pandemic, hydroxychloroquine, was not flooding pharmacies. And it was why COVID vaccines were not rushed out before the 2020 presidential election. Both of those efforts were stopped by civil servants, despite overt pressure from Trump and officials in his administration.

Public-health officials didn’t buck Trump to sabotage him. They did so because both measures were scientifically unsolid. Vaccines weren’t authorized before the election because FDA officials knew that they had to wait at least two months after the clinical trials were completed to make sure the vaccines didn’t cause dangerous side effects. And the FDA blocked use of hydroxychloroquine for treating COVID because of the drug’s unproven efficacy and spotty safety record.

If they really wanted to, health officials could have caved to Trump’s requests. But in general, they don’t easily renounce their empirically grounded views on science—regardless of who is president. The FDA’s top vaccine regulator vowed to resign in 2020 if the agency relented to Trump’s pressure to approve vaccines early. Two other vaccine regulators resigned in the first year of the Biden administration after the FDA announced the rollout of COVID boosters. Following their resignations, the ex-officials publicly argued that “the data simply does not show that every healthy adult should get a booster,” and that public-health efforts should have been entirely focused on “vaccinating the unvaccinated, wherever they live.”

Many scientists, lawyers, and doctors are involved in each and every decision that federal-health agencies make, because the decisions must be evidence-based. Arbitrary decisions based on conspiracy theories or political whims can, and will, be challenged in court. “A new administration absolutely can come in and set new policies,” Lowell Schiller, who led the FDA’s office of policy during part of Trump’s first term, told me. But, he added, “there is a lot of law that they need to follow, and things have to be done through proper process.”

Some changes that may seem relatively insignificant require reams of paperwork. When the FDA wanted to revoke the standardized federal definition of frozen cherry pie (yes, one existed until earlier this year), it had to go through a formal procedure that forced the agency to defend its legal authority to make the move as well as the costs and benefits of a more laissez-faire cherry-pie policy. The process took more than three years. Few things are harder than approving or revoking approval for a drug: In 2020, the FDA tried to pull an unproven drug meant to prevent preterm births. Despite lots of evidence that the drug was ineffective, the process took nearly three years. Now imagine how things would go if RFK Jr. pressured the FDA to pull a vaccine off the market because he is convinced, incorrectly, that it causes autism.

A Trump administration could do a few things more easily. It could, for example, direct the FDA to stop enforcing the agency’s restrictions on some of the products that Kennedy touts, such as raw milk and certain vitamins. The FDA often declines to go after various products in the name of “enforcement discretion.” A downturn in enforcement actions might anger some within the agency, but Trump could bring that about with little red tape.

Kennedy has promised mass firings at the FDA, presumably to install loyalists who would enact the agenda. That threat should be taken seriously. The president has sweeping power to hinder officials who muck up his agenda. The Trump administration allegedly demoted one top federal official who pushed back against authorizing hydroxychloroquine.

But there are major checks, too, on what a president can do to turn the screws on civil servants. Unlike many workers, federal employees can be fired only for cause or misconduct, and civil servants are entitled to appeals in both cases. “It’s a tangled process that makes it hard to be able to get rid of people,” Donald Kettl, an emeritus public-policy professor at the University of Maryland, told me. Trump was famous for firing people during his first term, but the people who got the axe were political appointees who did not have the same protections as civil servants. In short, few federal employees last just one Scaramucci.

However, one major threat still looms over federal workers. In his first term, Trump pursued an effort to reclassify federal workers in a way that would strip many of them of their protections, and he has said that in his second term he will “immediately” pursue that action. Trump would have to go through an arduous process to make good on that threat, and it would likely be challenged in court. But if implemented, the policy could give Trump massive leverage to fire workers.

Still, Trump takes those actions at the peril of his own agenda. The reality is that the same members of the so-called deep state that Trump and Kennedy are threatening to fire are also essential to making anything the administration wants to do happen. Seminal parts of the “Make America healthy again” agenda would have to run through this deep state. If Kennedy, a champion of psychedelics, wants the FDA to approve a new psilocybin-based treatment, the medicine must be reviewed by the scientists and doctors who review other drugs for safety and efficacy. If he wants a national ban on fluoride in water, that must go through the EPA. There is no way around this: Even if Trump appointed Kennedy as the unilateral king of every single federal health agency, Kennedy cannot make these decisions on his own.

A central tenet of the “Make America healthy again” agenda is removing potentially dangerous chemicals from food. Although the FDA has been slow to ban certain chemical additives, the agency seems to have recently seen the light. Earlier this year it set up a new initiative for reassessing the safety of these substances. But if Kennedy guts the FDA, no one might be there to do that review.

The Trump administration could hypothetically hold a massive job fair to get cronies into all of those roles—especially if the president-elect makes good on his promise to make hiring and firing bureaucrats easier—but few people can successfully perform these highly technical jobs, not to mention that hiring in the federal government typically takes forever. (The average hiring time in 2023 was 101 days.)

Still, Trump’s second term will be one of the biggest challenges facing our federal health system. No president in modern history has been so intent on bending health agencies to his will, and he seems even more emboldened to do so now than in his first go-around. Trump will likely have some successes—some people may be fired, and some important policies may be scrapped. America is about to find out just how resilient the deep state really is.