The Fifth Risk: America's Unseen Guardians

Use of scripts:“Transition Chaos It’s 2016, and the stage is set for one of the most unexpected presidential transitions in U.S. history. Chris Christie, then the governor of New Jersey, had an interesting proposition for Donald Trump’s campaign: he volunteered to head the presidential transition team. Christie had experience—both as a prosecutor and a politician—and believed he could help Trump navigate the labyrinthine complexities of federal government. But there was one problem. Trump didn’t see the point. “Why did anyone need to plan anything before he actually became president?” Trump had asked. Christie reminded him it was legally required, to which Trump reluctantly agreed, adding his signature phrase: “But not too much!” Christie took the job seriously. He assembled a team of over 100 people by the summer of 2016, all working out of Washington D.C., drafting lists of qualified candidates to fill the 500 key positions in federal agencies. They created briefing books and vetted nominees for potential conflicts or scandals. Yet, by the time November rolled around, it became clear that Trump had little interest in any of it. At one point, Trump erupted at Christie, shouting, “You’re stealing my money!”—not realizing that transition funds were a separate requirement under federal law. Behind the scenes, Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, had his own vendetta against Christie, stemming from a years-old case when Christie had prosecuted Kushner’s father. By the time the election dust settled, Christie and his entire team were unceremoniously dumped. Instead of following the planned transition roadmap, the Trump camp approached the federal government like a blindfolded driver heading into traffic. Career civil servants, like those at the Department of Energy, waited for the new team to arrive, desks cleared and binders prepped. But day after day, there was radio silence. As one observer put it, “We were prepared for the next day. And nothing happened.” The chaos of this transition was more than disorganization; it set a tone for governance that would ripple across federal agencies. The book notes: “A bad transition took this entire portfolio of catastrophic risks—the biggest portfolio of such risks ever managed by a single institution in the history of the world—and made all the bad things more likely to happen and the good things less likely.” The lack of planning is not just a procedural issue; it’s a systemic risk. A smooth transition allows critical institutions—like national security, energy, and disaster response—to continue functioning without interruption. Neglecting these responsibilities magnifies vulnerabilities that can spiral into crises. The careless attitude displayed here wasn’t just about politics; it was about ignoring the very framework that keeps society safe. As we move forward, the next part uncovers just how deeply these overlooked systems function in maintaining order—and what happens when no one is paying attention. Navigating Risk in Federal Institutions Picture this: the Department of Energy in late 2016, a sprawling $30 billion operation with 110,000 employees. Its mission goes far beyond energy; it safeguards the U.S. nuclear arsenal, hunts down rogue plutonium, and drives cutting-edge scientific research. Yet, when the Trump team showed up—or, rather, failed to show up—the cracks in the system widened. Among those watching this unfold was Ernest Moniz, a nuclear physicist and former Energy Secretary, who had spent years securing weapons-grade material and maintaining global nuclear safety. His replacement? A team of “Beachhead” appointees, many without the faintest clue about the department’s scope or complexity. One story from this period sticks out like a warning beacon. A barrel of nuclear waste at a storage site in New Mexico had been improperly packed with organic kitty litter instead of inorganic. The result? An explosion that cost half a billion dollars to clean up. Such incidents are not uncommon, but they are preventable with oversight and expertise. Yet, as new political appointees arrived, their focus wasn’t on learning about these risks. Instead, they demanded lists of employees who worked on climate change initiatives, sparking fears of a modern-day witch hunt. The chaos left many civil servants demoralized and unsure how to proceed. As one DOE official recalled, “They didn’t ask for even an introductory briefing. Like, ‘What do you do?’” The lack of curiosity and preparation wasn’t limited to nuclear safety. The book recounts a sobering incident in 2013 at the Metcalf substation in California, where a sniper took out 17 transformers, underscoring the vulnerability of the U.S. electrical grid. These transformers, vital for power supply, are hard to replace, with no reserve stockpile. The risk isn’t theoretical—half a million cyber-intrusions were reported on the grid in 2016 alone. Without a coordinated response, these vulnerabilities could cascade into nationwide blackouts. Here’s the key takeaway: federal agencies are engineered to manage risks too large, dangerous, or unprofitable for the private sector. From nuclear safety to energy innovation, they shoulder burdens that safeguard society. But negligence and mismanagement amplify these risks. As the book observes, “At DOE even the regularly scheduled meetings started with, ‘You’re not going to believe this.’” When those managing these agencies fail to understand the stakes, the entire system teeters on the brink of failure. This chapter also sets the stage for something more profound. Beneath the political chaos lies a resilient workforce of scientists and civil servants, quietly tackling challenges that could shape—or shatter—the future. These unsung heroes take center stage next as we step into the final part of this story. The Forgotten Stewards of Society Amid the frenzy of politics and mismanagement, a different kind of story quietly unfolds. It’s the story of the scientists, engineers, and civil servants who show up every day to safeguard the world. These aren’t just desk workers—they’re the backbone of society, tackling crises no one else dares to address. Take John MacWilliams, for instance. Appointed as the Department of Energy’s first-ever Chief Risk Officer in 2013, his job was to assess and manage the department’s most terrifying vulnerabilities, from nuclear accidents to electrical grid failures. Despite his Wall Street background, MacWilliams was deeply moved by the sheer dedication of the people he worked with, describing them as “passive nerds” who carried the weight of the nation’s safety on their shoulders. One particularly gripping tale is that of a young DOE employee who, in 2009, entered a volatile Libya under Russian security forces to secure highly enriched uranium. Such missions are far from rare. Another team, during routine nuclear arsenal maintenance, once discovered that a misplaced decimal had led to the accidental shipment of an oversized chunk of plutonium to a medical facility—a shipment that should have been under armed guard. These stories highlight the razor-thin margins within which these civil servants operate, often unnoticed and unrewarded. Yet their work isn’t limited to nuclear safeguards. In one instance, the DOE’s loan program helped Tesla build its first factory when private investors hesitated. The solar energy revolution? That was kickstarted by federal loans. Despite these triumphs, the political narrative surrounding these programs focuses on failures like Solyndra, casting a shadow over decades of innovation and success. And therein lies the issue. These stewards of society don’t just face external risks; they’re battling internal disinterest and public mistrust. As one official lamented, “No one notices when something goes right.” But their work is the quiet glue holding society together. Without them, the risks they manage—from climate change to nuclear disaster—would go unchecked, threatening global stability. The lesson is simple yet profound: the people behind these institutions are as critical as the institutions themselves. Investing in their expertise and ensuring their voices are heard might be the difference between managing risk and courting catastrophe. As the editor of Heardly, we can ensure that awareness translates into action by holding systems accountable and celebrating the often-invisible workers who safeguard the world. Finally, share a sentence from the book to end today's reading: “The basic role of government is to keep us safe.”” Title Usage:“#ExecutiveOrders #PolicyChange - The Fifth Risk · Trump’s executive orders will reshape U.S. policy, and citizens should monitor their impact” Content in English. Title in English.Bilingual English-Chinese subtitles. This is a comprehensive summary of the book Using Hollywood production values and cinematic style. Music is soft. Characters are portrayed as European and American. Tip: Don't use silence! Don't use silence in video!