THE WASHINGTON UNION PAPERS: NO. 28

HOLDING CONGRESS ACCOUNTABLE: NO BUDGET, NO PAY

To the People of the United States,

If a government cannot pass a budget, it is not a government—it is an ongoing crime against the people. A legislature that refuses to fulfill its most basic duty—funding the very nation it was elected to serve—has abdicated its authority, surrendering legitimacy in exchange for self-preservation. No worker in America is given the luxury of collecting a paycheck while failing to do their job. No soldier, no teacher, no nurse, no mechanic, no business owner can demand compensation without fulfilling their responsibilities. And yet, Congress, time and time again, shields itself from the very dysfunction it creates, allowing government shutdowns to ravage the economy while they remain untouched, their salaries uninterrupted, their comforts preserved. This is not governance. This is fraud. This is a betrayal so brazen, so shameless, that it demands reckoning. If they will not work, they shall not be paid. If they will not govern, they shall not be compensated. The principle is simple, and it is just.

There is no greater dereliction of duty than for those entrusted with the nation’s well-being to let it collapse under the weight of their own negligence. This is not mere incompetence; this is willful sabotage. A government shutdown is not an accident, not an unfortunate byproduct of complex negotiations—it is a manufactured disaster, a deliberate act of legislative malpractice wielded by politicians who place self-interest above service, political theater above governance, and raw power above the well-being of the American people.

Government shutdowns are not natural occurrences, not acts of God, not unavoidable crises. They are the calculated failures of those who hold the levers of power but lack the courage, the discipline, and the basic competence to use them responsibly. They are the result of legislators who see governance as a game, who wield the budget as a bludgeon, who embrace dysfunction as a political strategy rather than an existential threat to the republic. Every shutdown is a conscious betrayal, a knowing abdication of duty, a cynical willingness to let the country burn while they sit comfortably above the flames, untouched, unscathed, and indifferent to the suffering they create.

And who pays the price? Not those responsible. Not the lawmakers who engineered the crisis. Not the wealthy donors who pull their strings. No, the burden falls upon the worker who is told to show up without a paycheck, the federal employee who is forced to labor under the promise of "eventual" compensation while their bills pile up, while their rent comes due, while their children go without. It falls upon the single mother who waits for assistance that will not come, the military family left in limbo, the retired veteran whose benefits are suddenly uncertain, the small business owner whose government contract is frozen, whose revenue is severed, whose employees are now jobless because Washington has failed them once again.

These people—the backbone of the republic—are treated not as citizens, not as human beings with families, with responsibilities, with lives, but as collateral damage in a manufactured crisis. They are abandoned by a government that they have funded with their taxes, supported with their labor, defended with their service. And what do they receive in return? Indifference. Contempt. The cruel reality that those who hold the power to end their suffering do not care enough to lift a finger unless it benefits their political fortunes.

Meanwhile, those who cause these shutdowns remain untouched. Their salaries do not stop. Their privileges do not fade. They do not stand in food bank lines. They do not worry about eviction. They do not stare at their children, trying to explain why dinner will be a little smaller this week, why Christmas might not come, why their dreams must once again be deferred because Washington has turned its back on them. No, they stand in front of cameras, delivering rehearsed speeches filled with empty platitudes about "fiscal responsibility" while the nation suffers under the weight of their cowardice.

This is not just failure; this is betrayal. It is an outrage so staggering, so indefensible, that it should shake the very foundations of our democracy. The people do not shut down their responsibilities when times are tough. The worker does not get to shut down paying rent. The soldier does not get to shut down their service. The nurse does not get to shut down their shift in the hospital. The truck driver does not get to shut down their deliveries. Only in Washington does failure come with no consequence, only in Congress does negligence come with no penalty, only in the halls of government do the architects of disaster remain comfortably insulated from the wreckage they have caused.

This must end. This system, where those in power are protected from the consequences of their own inaction, must be torn down. No more free passes. No more insulated elites standing above the suffering they create. No more politicians who refuse to govern yet still collect a paycheck while the nation grinds to a halt. If they refuse to do their jobs, they shall not be paid. If they manufacture these crises, they shall be held accountable. If they cannot govern, they shall be removed. The days of immunity are over. The days of reckoning have arrived.

A republic cannot survive when its leaders are rewarded for failure. A nation cannot stand when its government views its own citizens as pawns to be sacrificed in a political game. The people will not be held hostage any longer. The suffering will not be ignored. The betrayal will not be forgiven. Those who have caused this disaster will be made to answer for it, or they will be swept aside, cast into the abyss of irrelevance where they belong.

Enough. No more shutdowns. No more manufactured crises. No more neglect, no more delay, no more failure without consequence. The American people demand action, demand accountability, demand a government that serves them—not one that abandons them at the first sign of political inconvenience. Either Washington will change, or the people will change it themselves. And when that reckoning comes, let no one say they were not warned.

The No More Shutdowns Act establishes a principle that should never have needed to be written into law: that those who fail to do their jobs shall not be rewarded. This should be as natural as breathing, as obvious as gravity, as fundamental as the rule that a worker who refuses to work does not get paid. And yet, here we stand, forced to legislate the most basic principle of accountability because Congress has turned failure into a privilege, dysfunction into a career path, and impunity into an art form. No more. The age of consequence has arrived.

Under this policy, if Congress does not pass a budget on time, they do not get paid. Their salaries are withheld, not deferred, not postponed, but suspended until they fulfill their duty. Their paychecks vanish the moment they decide to turn their backs on the very job they were elected to perform. They will not be allowed to gorge themselves on the public treasury while the very people they claim to represent suffer the consequences of their cowardice. There will be no loopholes, no side deals, no backdoor fixes. Either they govern, or they go unpaid. This is not a punishment; this is the bare minimum expectation of responsibility.

And yet, the defenders of congressional dysfunction will rise in protest. They will clutch their pearls and cry out that withholding salaries will only make things worse, that it will make negotiations more difficult, that it is an unfair burden on lawmakers. But let them explain why the burden of their incompetence should continue to fall on the backs of the American people. Let them justify why federal employees should be forced to work without pay while their so-called leaders sit in air-conditioned offices, insulated from the hardship they create. Let them dare to argue that their failure should come without consequence, that their inaction should come without cost. They cannot. They will not. Because to defend this system is to defend corruption itself.

In no other profession does failure to perform one’s duties still result in full compensation. No soldier is given a paycheck for abandoning the battlefield. No doctor is paid for refusing to see their patients. No teacher collects a salary for skipping their classes. No worker in America is given the luxury of neglecting their responsibilities while still expecting a direct deposit at the end of the week. And yet, Congress—the very body that dictates the financial future of the nation—believes itself to be above this fundamental truth. This is an affront to every hard-working American who understands that payment is earned, not gifted.

Why should Congress be any different? Why should the architects of dysfunction be spared the consequences of their own ineptitude? Why should those who engineer shutdowns be shielded from their effects while the rest of the nation bears the burden? The answer is simple: they should not. If they cannot pass a budget, they should not be paid. If they cannot do their jobs, they should not be compensated. If they cannot govern, they should be removed. This is not radical. This is common sense. This is how a republic should function.

The era of impunity must end. The time of consequence must begin. No more free rides. No more guaranteed paychecks for deliberate inaction. No more treating government shutdowns as political games while real people suffer real consequences. The No More Shutdowns Act is not just a policy—it is a declaration of war against a culture of unaccountability. It is a demand that Congress live by the same rules as the people they govern. It is a line drawn in the sand, a warning to every legislator who dares to put their own political games ahead of their sworn duty: if you fail the people, the people will ensure that you pay the price.

This is not negotiable. This is not up for debate. The American people will no longer accept a ruling class that operates under a separate set of rules. Congress will govern, or Congress will go unpaid. Congress will do its job, or Congress will be replaced. No more excuses. No more immunity. No more dysfunction without consequence. The age of accountability has arrived, and it will not be turned away.

The opposition will call this measure unfair. They will claim that withholding salaries will not fix the problem, that it will only exacerbate dysfunction. But let them explain to the American people why they, who are forced to bear the brunt of shutdowns, should suffer while those responsible for the crisis remain untouched. Let them justify why a system that insulates lawmakers from the consequences of their failures should be allowed to continue. Let them attempt to defend a world where the worker goes without pay while the politician sits comfortably in wealth and privilege. They cannot. They dare not. Because to defend this system is to defend corruption, to defend failure, to defend a ruling class that views governance not as a duty but as a game.

A republic cannot survive when its stewards are rewarded for incompetence. It cannot stand when its legislative body is allowed to ignore its duties with no consequence. The American people are not hostages to Washington’s dysfunction. They are not pawns in a game of political brinkmanship. They are the backbone of this nation, and they deserve a government that serves them, not one that exploits them. The No More Shutdowns Act does not just end the cycle of budgetary crisis—it reaffirms the principle that in this republic, power is not a privilege; it is a responsibility. And those who shirk that responsibility will pay the price.

The time for half-measures is over. The time for empty promises is done. No Budget, No Pay must become the law of the land, not as a gimmick, not as a rhetorical flourish, but as a binding, non-negotiable truth. The people demand it. Justice demands it. And those who resist it must be made to answer why they believe they deserve a salary for failing their nation. If they will not govern, they will not be paid. If they will not act, they will not be compensated. And if they will not be held accountable, then they must be removed, replaced, and forgotten by a people who will tolerate their failures no longer.

Let those who stand against this measure explain themselves before the workers who labor without pay during a shutdown. Let them justify their opposition to the small business owners who suffer while Congress delays. Let them defend their position before the soldiers, the police officers, the firefighters, and the public servants who keep this country running while lawmakers allow it to grind to a halt. Let them dare to say that they deserve more than those they are meant to serve. And when they cannot, let them be stripped of their power, for they have proven themselves unworthy of it.

A republic that does not hold its leaders accountable is not a republic at all—it is an oligarchy in disguise, a corrupt institution that rewards those who exploit it rather than those who defend it. It is a farce, a fraud, a deception played on the people who still cling to the belief that their government serves them, when in truth, it serves itself. It is the rotting carcass of democracy, hollowed out by career politicians who thrive on dysfunction, who profit from delay, who wield crisis as a tool for power while insulating themselves from its consequences. This is not leadership. This is not governance. This is theft—of trust, of integrity, of the very foundation upon which this nation was built.

The time has come to end this charade. The time has come to strip Congress of its undeserved immunity from consequence, to force accountability upon those who have evaded it for too long. The people will no longer be satisfied with empty rhetoric, with promises that evaporate the moment they are spoken, with leaders who govern not for the good of the nation but for the preservation of their own power. The days of impunity must end. The reckoning must begin.

No more shutdowns. No more dysfunction. No more free passes for those who refuse to do their jobs. Let it be known: if they do not govern, they shall not be paid. If they refuse to serve, they will be removed. If they betray their oath, they will be cast out, not with gentle retirement speeches and book deals, but with the disgrace and rejection that befits those who have failed their country. The people will accept nothing less. The days of tolerating mediocrity, of rewarding incompetence, of allowing those in power to operate without fear of consequence, are over.

And to those who stand in the way of this reform, to those who believe they can continue to exploit a broken system without repercussions, understand this: your time is running out. Your reign of unaccountability is coming to an end. The patience of the people is not infinite, and their anger is not idle. The American people have been lied to, cheated, and ignored for too long. But they are watching. They are waiting. And when the time comes, they will act.

The era of unaccountable government is over. The American people will see to that. And when the reckoning arrives, there will be no mercy for those who placed themselves above the duty they swore to uphold. Stand in the way of progress, and you will be trampled by it. Refuse to lead, and you will be led to the exit. Try to hide behind the privileges of office, and you will find that the will of the people is stronger than the walls of corruption you have built around yourselves.

History does not remember cowards kindly. It does not immortalize the weak, the corrupt, the self-serving bureaucrats who traded their duty for comfort, their principles for political convenience, their oaths for the fleeting security of unchecked power. It does not carve their names into stone, except to serve as warnings, as lessons to future generations of what happens to those who betray the people who entrusted them with leadership. History is merciless to those who stood in the way of progress, to those who chose self-preservation over service, to those who thought they could cling to power while abandoning the responsibilities that justified it.

And history is being written now. The ink is wet, the pages turning, and each moment presents a choice—stand for something greater than yourself, or be swept into the abyss of irrelevance, your name spoken only in the context of failure, cowardice, and national shame. Choose wisely, because when the final chapter is written, there will be no revisions, no second chances, no redemption for those who stood idle while the nation cried out for leadership. The judgment of history is eternal, and those who betray their country will find themselves erased from its pages, forgotten, discarded, unworthy of remembrance.