An examination of the 2025 government shutdown, the structural forces that make these crises inevitable, and why proposed accountability measures might backfire
Every. Single. Year.
It’s October 6, 2025, and the federal government has been shut down for five days. Nearly 750,000 federal employees have been furloughed, losing an estimated $400 million in wages per day. Another 700,000 are working without pay. Essential services like Medicare and the Transportation Security Administration continue operating, but agencies including the National Institutes of Health, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the WIC nutrition program face partial or full suspensions.
This is the third government shutdown under President Donald Trump and the 11th in U.S. history to result in curtailed government services. For Americans watching from the sidelines, it raises an exhausting question: Why does this keep happening?
The Mechanics of This Shutdown
The current crisis began predictably enough. Congress failed to pass appropriations legislation for the 2026 fiscal year, which started on October 1. The House passed a “clean” continuing resolution on September 19 that would have funded the government through November 21, 2025, by a vote of 217-212.
But the Senate is where things fell apart.
Senate Democrats used the filibuster—a procedural rule requiring 60 votes to end debate and move to a vote—to block the Republican funding bill. In multiple attempts, the votes have fallen short: 55-45, 54-44, 53-45. With Republicans holding 53 Senate seats, they needed at least seven Democrats to cross party lines. Only two to three Democrats (Senators John Fetterman, Catherine Cortez Masto, and occasionally Angus King) voted with Republicans, while one Republican, Senator Rand Paul, voted against it.
Meanwhile, the Democratic alternative proposal—which would have permanently extended enhanced Affordable Care Act tax credits and reversed $1 trillion in Medicaid cuts—also failed along party lines.
Who’s to Blame?
The answer depends entirely on your political perspective, and both sides have compelling arguments:
Republicans argue that Democrats are responsible for blocking a straightforward continuing resolution—the same type of bill Democrats voted for 13 times during the Biden administration. The House passed it, the president is ready to sign it, and Senate Democrats are standing in the way. Republicans say healthcare negotiations can happen separately after reopening the government, and point out that Democrats have previously supported similar measures.
Democrats counter that Republicans control both chambers of Congress and the White House, yet refuse to negotiate on healthcare subsidies that expire at the end of the year. Without extending these enhanced Affordable Care Act tax credits, millions of Americans will face significantly higher insurance premiums. Democrats argue that Republicans should negotiate now rather than promise vague future talks, especially given Trump’s administration has already shown willingness to use rescission powers to cut funding Democrats care about.
The structural reality is simple: both parties need each other because of the 60-vote filibuster threshold. Republicans can’t pass funding alone, and Democrats are using their leverage to demand policy concessions.
The Pattern That Won’t Break
Government shutdowns have become a predictable feature of American politics. Since 1977, when the current budget process was established, political polarization has made it increasingly difficult to pass the 12 individual spending bills required each fiscal year. Instead, Congress relies on continuing resolutions—temporary funding patches that kick the can down the road.
When these stopgap measures fail, we get shutdowns. The last one occurred during Trump’s first term, lasting 35 days from December 2018 to January 2019 over his demand for border wall funding. Before that, the government shut down for 16 days in 2013 during the Obama presidency over Republican demands to repeal the Affordable Care Act.
Each time, both parties blame the other. Each time, federal workers suffer. And each time, Americans grow more frustrated with a system that seems fundamentally broken.
The Intuitive Solution That Doesn’t Work
There’s an idea that surfaces during every shutdown, one that feels both fair and obvious: if lawmakers can’t do their job and keep the government open, they shouldn’t get paid.
The logic is elegant. Federal workers lose their paychecks during shutdowns. The people who caused the shutdown continue receiving their $174,000 annual salaries. Why should the politicians who failed to compromise be insulated from the consequences of their failure?
It’s a viscerally satisfying proposal. But it faces a critical problem: wealth disparity in Congress.
Over half of Congress members are millionaires, with a median net worth of approximately $1 million. Different calculation methodologies yield slightly different numbers—between 39% and 48% depending on whether you use minimum or average net worth—but the upshot is the same: roughly 200-260 members out of 535 total are millionaires.
Compare that to the general American population, where only 5-12% have a net worth exceeding $1 million. Congress members are four to ten times more likely to be millionaires than their constituents.
For these wealthy lawmakers, losing their congressional salary wouldn’t meaningfully change their lifestyle. But for the minority of working-class members who actually need their paycheck, the penalty would be severe. A salary withholding would effectively punish the very representatives who might be most sympathetic to federal workers’ plight while barely registering with the millionaires who are often most willing to let shutdowns drag on for political gain.
The policy would also create perverse incentives. If only one party feels electoral pressure to compromise because their members are less wealthy, the wealthier party could simply wait out the shutdown. It might even encourage parties to recruit more millionaire candidates who can afford to play political hardball without financial consequences.
What Would Actually Fix This?
If withholding congressional pay won’t work, what would? The answer lies not in punishing individual lawmakers but in changing the structural rules that make these crises inevitable:
Automatic Continuing Resolutions: If Congress fails to pass a budget by the deadline, funding automatically continues at current levels. This removes the “shutdown” weapon entirely. Several other democracies use this approach, eliminating the spectacle of governments closing because politicians couldn’t agree.
Filibuster Reform: The 60-vote Senate threshold gives the minority party veto power over nearly everything, even when one party controls government. Options include eliminating the filibuster entirely, requiring actual “talking” filibusters where senators must hold the floor, or exempting certain bills like budgets from filibuster rules.
Biennial Budgeting: Passing two-year budgets instead of annual ones would reduce these crises by half and give agencies more predictability for planning.
Electoral Accountability: Rather than withholding pay, trigger automatic special elections for all of Congress if the government shuts down for more than a specified period. This makes shutdowns genuinely risky for all incumbents regardless of wealth.
Reduce Gerrymandering: When districts are “safe” for one party, politicians get rewarded for being extreme rather than compromising. Independent redistricting commissions could create more competitive districts where moderation is rewarded.
Campaign Finance Reform: When politicians spend enormous time fundraising, they’re incentivized to create dramatic conflicts that energize small-dollar donors and motivate base voters rather than quietly governing and compromising.
The Deeper Problem
But here’s the uncomfortable truth: while these structural reforms would help, they don’t address the underlying reality that America is genuinely divided. We have two parties with fundamentally different visions for government, healthcare, taxation, and the role of the state. Elections are close enough that neither side has a clear mandate. The structures amplify this polarization, but they don’t create it from nothing.
There’s a fundamental tension in democratic design: Do you want a system where the majority can govern decisively, even if you disagree with them? Or do you want checks that force compromise, even if that means recurring crises when compromise fails?
The current shutdown illustrates this tension perfectly. Democrats argue they need leverage now because Republicans, who control everything, won’t negotiate in good faith later. Republicans argue that Democrats are abusing the filibuster to hold the government hostage for partisan demands. Both sides have a point.
Who Pays?
While politicians argue and the American public grows cynical, real people suffer real consequences:
Federal workers miss paychecks they need to pay rent and buy groceries. They’re guaranteed back pay eventually, but bills don’t wait for political compromises. Small businesses that contract with the government face uncertainty. National parks close, disrupting tourism-dependent communities. Scientific research pauses. Grant applications pile up unreviewed.
The White House budget office has even instructed agencies to prepare “reduction in force” plans—meaning some federal workers might not just be furloughed but actually fired during extended shutdowns, a threat that adds terror to an already stressful situation.
Meanwhile, the wealthiest 15 members of Congress have a combined estimated net worth of at least $1.3 billion. They’ll be fine.
Breaking the Cycle
The 2025 shutdown will eventually end. Both parties will claim victory or blame the other for capitulation. Federal workers will receive back pay. And then, months or years from now, we’ll do this again.
The cycle continues because the incentives reward it. Politicians raise money from outraged donors. Base voters feel their representatives are “fighting.” Safe districts mean no electoral penalty for obstruction. And the filibuster gives the minority party just enough power to say no without the responsibility of governing.
Breaking this cycle requires Americans to demand more than political theater. It requires recognizing that “making politicians feel the pain” sounds good but often backfires when those politicians are already wealthy. And it requires structural reforms that remove the incentive to manufacture crises in the first place.
The question isn’t whether Democrats or Republicans are to blame for this particular shutdown. The question is whether we’re willing to change a system where shutdowns remain a viable political tactic at all.
Until we answer that question differently, we’ll keep having this same exhausting conversation. Every. Single. Year.
As of October 6, 2025, the government shutdown continues with no clear end in sight. Lawmakers have left Washington for the week, and both parties remain far apart on negotiations.