Pulling back the curtain

From Wall Street (The Big Short) to the world of sports analytics (Moneyball), Michael Lewis has long been a master of exposing the human element behind seemingly opaque institutions.

In Who Is Government? The Untold Story of Public Service (Riverhead Books, 272), he focuses on the federal government—not as an abstract powerhouse but as a group of individuals whose dedication often goes unnoticed. This collection, largely derived from a Washington Post series, is a collaborative effort, featuring essays from writers such as Dave Eggers, John Lanchester, and Sarah Vowell. Through various gripping narratives, Lewis and his team of contributors shed light on the hidden world of public servants who quietly, diligently, and often thanklessly keep the country running. The book aims to dismantle the stereotype of the faceless, sluggish bureaucrat and replace it with portraits of real people—often brilliant and self-effacing—whose work sustains critical aspects of American life. For the most part, the book succeeds.

Who Is Government? opens with an anecdote that perfectly encapsulates the absurdity of public ignorance about government. After Trump’s 2016 election victory, his team was handed detailed transition briefings prepared over six months by Obama’s outgoing officials. But then, Trump fired his transition team. As Lewis recounts: “Chris, you and I are so smart that we can leave the victory party two hours early and do the transition ourselves,” Trump told Chris Christie.

The consequences of this decision were rather severe. Many of Trump’s appointees had no idea what their departments did and were left in charge of vast, incredibly complex agencies. Rick Perry, for instance, who had once vowed to eliminate the Department of Energy, was shocked to learn that it managed the U.S. nuclear arsenal. This anecdote sets up one of the book’s central themes: the immense disconnect between public perception and the reality of government work.

One of the book’s most gripping profiles is of Christopher Mark, a coal miner turned federal safety engineer. Mark’s work focused on preventing roof collapses in underground mines—one of the leading causes of coal miner deaths. His career trajectory is emblematic of the kind of people Lewis celebrates: those who deeply understand a problem because they have lived it.

At one point, Mark describes the deadly unpredictability of underground mines: “A mine is unlike any man-made structure. It’s not a designed environment.” “Most of the material the structure is made from,” he notes, “is kind of unknown.”

Mark recognized that existing safety formulas for coal mine pillars were inconsistent, often arbitrary, and sometimes deadly. His statistical approach to mining safety was revolutionary, yet the industry initially ignored him. It wasn’t until after the Wilberg Mine disaster—where 27 miners burned to death after being trapped by a roof collapse—that his methods gained traction. His research directly contributed to reducing mining fatalities in the U.S.

His humility is striking. When asked to describe his work, he downplays it: “I just managed the project.”

This attitude is a recurring theme in the book. Many of these public servants seem almost allergic to recognition, yet their work has saved countless lives.

Lewis succeeds in making government work compelling by anchoring it in the personal. He reveals that behind every agency acronym is a person who, against all odds, is trying to do something good. The book pushes back against the notion that government is purely an exercise in waste and inefficiency. It reminds us that, while politicians hog the spotlight and absorb most of the oxygen, the people doing the actual work of governing rarely get noticed.

The book also forces us to confront an uncomfortable truth: Much of our disdain for bureaucracy is fueled by ignorance. As Lewis puts it: “People capable of ruining panel discussions and dinner parties with their steady stream of opinions about American politics were totally flummoxed by the simplest questions about American government.”

Americans can name their elected officials but are often clueless about what the Department of Agriculture actually does. In case you’re wondering, it works to preserve “rural America from extinction, among other things.”

If there is one critique of Who Is Government?, it is that it paints an overly optimistic picture of the U.S. bureaucracy. While Lewis effectively dismantles the caricature of the lazy, indifferent bureaucrat, he does not engage much with the reality that government is also synonymous with bloat. The inefficiencies, redundancies, and bureaucratic inertia that plague many federal agencies are given little attention.

To his credit, Lewis acknowledges that the government struggles to tell its own story: “On top of every federal agency sit political operatives whose job is not to reveal and explain the good work happening beneath them but to prevent any of their employees from embarrassing the president.”

Yet, he stops short of reckoning with the extent to which these agencies can become self-serving entities. The book would be stronger if it explored how the same bureaucratic structures that enable great work can also lead to waste and dysfunction.

Despite this minor shortcoming, Who Is Government? is an important and compelling read. It does what so few books about government do: makes you care. It replaces cynicism with a healthy dose of appreciation—not for the system itself, but for the human beings who keep it from falling apart.

In a political climate that often reduces governance to a spectator sport, this book is a necessary reminder that the vast machinery behind the scenes is powered by people whose names we’ll never know, making decisions that shape our lives. Whether it’s a scientist preventing a public health crisis, a cyber expert thwarting a digital attack, or a former coal miner figuring out how to keep his colleagues alive, the real work of government is often unseen.

This book makes the invisible visible. And that alone makes it worth reading.