Every year the Federal Government wastes billions of dollars as a

“Every year the Federal Government wastes billions of dollars as a result of overpayments of government agencies, misuse of government credit cards, abuse of the Federal entitlement programs, and the mismanagement of the Federal bureaucracy.” Thus spoke Chris Chocola, a man of public service who lifted his voice not in cynicism, but in warning. His words strike like the tolling of a great bell — heavy, resonant, and filled with lament for a system that has grown distant from its purpose. In these lines, he reveals the deep wound that runs through the heart of governance: the waste of wealth, the abuse of trust, and the mismanagement of power. His warning is not merely about money — it is about virtue. For when government forgets frugality, it forgets the people who sustain it; when it loses discipline, it betrays the sacred trust of those who serve and sacrifice beneath its rule.

The origin of this quote lies in the long struggle between accountability and excess within the vast machinery of government. Chocola, a former congressman and fiscal conservative, spoke these words in the early years of the twenty-first century, during a time when the nation faced rising deficits and growing public disillusionment with government waste. His call was one of reform, a plea that the republic remember its founding ideals of stewardship and restraint. For in every age, bureaucracies have a tendency to expand, consuming more resources, spinning more complexity, until the servant becomes the master and the people — the supposed rulers — are left footing the bill for inefficiency. His words echo the wisdom of old: that power without discipline breeds decay, and that waste is not only a failure of finance, but a moral failure as well.

When Chocola speaks of “billions of dollars wasted,” he does not merely list figures — he paints a portrait of lost potential. Every dollar misspent is a school unfunded, a bridge unrepaired, a veteran neglected, a family left without aid. The tragedy of government waste is not in its size alone, but in its blindness: resources intended for the good of all are scattered like seeds on barren soil. The overpayments of agencies, the misuse of credit cards, and the abuse of entitlement programs are not accidents of chance; they are the symptoms of a deeper disorder — a system that has grown careless, detached from the principles of service and responsibility. Like an empire grown fat on its own prosperity, bureaucracy forgets that every coin it spends was first earned by the sweat of a citizen’s brow.

History is replete with warnings of this kind. In the final centuries of the Roman Empire, waste and mismanagement hollowed out the state from within. Gold flowed endlessly into the coffers of corrupt officials, while the legions went unpaid and the roads crumbled. The emperors built monuments and banquets, but the treasury emptied, and with it, the faith of the people. The grandeur of Rome was not destroyed by barbarians alone — it was undone by its own excess, by the same spirit of waste that Chocola denounces. So too, in the modern age, nations that spend without wisdom invite ruin not from without, but from within. For no government can long endure when it treats its people’s sacrifice as an endless purse.

Yet Chocola’s words are not merely an indictment; they are a call to vigilance. He does not condemn government itself, but its mismanagement — the neglect that comes when those entrusted with power lose sight of their duty. His appeal is to conscience: to the administrators who must act with honesty, to the legislators who must demand accountability, and to the citizens who must never cease to watch over the public trust. For democracy is not self-sustaining; it requires the eyes and the will of the governed. A free people must not only defend their liberty with arms but also with oversight, discipline, and care for the common good.

And here lies the deeper lesson: that waste begins not in the treasury, but in the heart. The careless spender, whether a government or an individual, is one who has forgotten gratitude — forgotten that wealth, whether public or private, is not infinite. When we lose respect for what we have been given, we lose the strength to preserve it. In this way, Chocola’s warning applies not only to governments, but to all who hold responsibility — to families, to communities, to leaders of every kind. To be a good steward is to remember that every resource is sacred, and that the measure of character is not in what we spend, but in what we save and protect.

Therefore, O listener, take this wisdom to heart. Guard against waste, in your home, in your work, and in your nation. Do not let abundance dull your sense of duty. Question those who spend freely what others have earned. Demand transparency where power hides in complexity. Remember that the Federal bureaucracy, vast and intricate, is but the reflection of the human soul — and that reform begins not with policy, but with principle. If the people are wise, the government will be wise; if the people are careless, the government will mirror their carelessness.

Let this be the enduring teaching: that waste is the enemy of justice, and discipline its defender. A nation that governs itself with wisdom and integrity can weather any storm. But one that wastes its treasure — whether gold or virtue — builds its house upon sand. Let us, then, be as the builders of stone, laying each brick with care, guarding every resource as a gift of the people. For when government serves with honesty and restraint, it ceases to be a burden and becomes what it was always meant to be: the faithful steward of a free and noble people.