"2025": How Attacking "Woke" Actually Plays Out in Reality

Chapter 10: The Dangerous Consequences of Project 2025's Attack on Equity and Science

Project 2025 converts the general rhetorical attack on “woke” and DEI into an across-the-board defunding of programs that address diversity or equity.

Given centuries of discrimination and disparate impacts that remain today, the real-world impact of such an approach would be devastating on all aspects of government work, including critical scientific research.

Chapter 10 of “2025” explores how this would play out….

Introduction and Chapter 1: Protester Deportations

Chapter 2: Banning Abortion and IVF

Chapter 3: Gutting Civil Service (Schedule F)

Chapter 4: No Vaccines in Schools

Chapter 5: “Revenge” and a Weaponized DOJ

Chapter 6: Mass Deportation

Chapter 7: Brutal Attacks on Workers and Unions

Chapter 8: The Attack on Public Education

Chapter 9: The Insurrection Act

Onto Chapter 10…

October 

Capitol Monthly

“Webster Powers”

By Calvin Stegman

WASHINGTON D.C.

For Webster “Web” Powers, today was the Super Bowl.

A Super Bowl he’d been training for for years.

“Welcome to the new Washington, friends,” he boomed, raising his thick, pale arms in the air as he spoke. “We are so glad to have you here.”

With a capacity of 1,500 people, every seat of the Hilton ballroom was full. But despite his words, Web knew that these were not his friends. Nor were they excited about his “new” Washington. The wide-eyed stares, glares, and frowns made that perfectly clear. So did the diversity of the crowd.

These people were scared. And they were right to be.

He controlled all of their fates.

After years of being treated like a pariah, he was the one on top.

“Today marks one of the most important moments of the new administration,” he continued, “so I’m glad we’re all here together to consecrate it.”

Today’s triumph was a long time coming.

Back when Web was 20 pounds thinner and sported a full head of thick brown hair, he sold condos along the white sands of Florida’s Gulf coast and minded his own business. His political journey only began when, a few months into fifth grade, his oldest son Charlie began asking all sorts of questions about Indians, slaves, and Blacks during the early 1900s. Why, young Charlie prodded with concern, had they all been treated so badly?

This was before homework, so Web asked Charlie’s teacher to show him the school’s teaching materials. And what he saw infuriated him. Books obsessing about what had been done wrong in American history, without enough celebration of all that was right. Almost as many photos of slave ships and civil rights rallies as battlefield heroes and great inventors. It was like it had been written by Blacks and Indians and women and not the white Christian men who had made America what it was. Worse, it actually made those men look terrible at times.

The next day, Web pulled Charlie and his younger sister Peggy from the school. But cutting off the indoctrination of his own kids was only step one.

Eradicating those anti-American, anti-white, anti-Christian history books became his singular obsession. He first rallied parents across the panhandle to join his cause, filling up school board meetings, then the statehouse. He flipped the Destin school board majority by turning out voters when few others were paying attention. Then he ran for the statehouse himself, facing no opposition in the general election after winning his GOP primary on his anti-indoctrination agenda.

Tallahassee gave him the platform he needed to clean up classrooms statewide. Government funds and policies should never favor one race over another, he roared in floor speech after speech. Nor should they favor other groups at the expense of white, Christian Americans. That was classic racism, and it needed to be snuffed out.

Amid those speeches, he introduced a simple bill: eliminate any references to racial equity or diversity or gender or critical race theory or anything that resembled any of that garbage from any level of education in Florida. It was bold and sweeping. And it put Web Powers on the national political map, leading to interviews and conferences and speeches across the country.

The pushback in Florida had been fierce. Personal and nasty. But that only confirmed how locked in the “woke” philosophy was even in a red state like Florida. That, and the fact that even Charlie and Peggy remained transfixed by their early exposure, inspired Web to push harder. Because if they couldn’t stop it here, they couldn’t stop it anywhere. And if his own kids could be brainwashed, no kids were safe.

The good news was that despite the angry reaction from the woke mob, most of his colleagues in the Florida statehouse signed on. They added more topics to remove from classrooms, like climate science. In the end, all the anger aimed their way didn’t matter. They ran it over and defeated the “woke,” as they all liked to say. And more than he expected, Web inspired a movement—dozens of other states went on to pass similar laws.

All those wins were nice, of course. But they weren’t the Super Bowl.

That was today—when Web would take it all national. And way beyond just education.

“As you know, the president is following through on the promises he made last year. We have scrutinized every budget, used AI to scan every policy, and examined all grant programs the federal government oversees.”

Every expression—the lack of eye contact, the lowered chins—gave those gathered away, along with their sighs and sagging shoulders. This audience looked down on people like him. He’d felt it in Florida, where he’d been treated like an angry dad with no real standing to take them on. Just a rube from the panhandle. Later, the same snobbery dripped off editorial pages across the nation.

But the misery in this ballroom grew not just because they were being forced to listen to a non-degreed and overweight Luddite like him. No, their pained expressions came because they knew what was coming. They knew that this sweating, angry dad was about to announce the devastation of many of their livelihoods, careers, and the institutions they served.

And they were right.

“And as we completed our work, what we found is an even bigger scandal than we had imagined.”

Scandal was a powerful word these days. With the DOJ and the FBI in the president’s hands, scandal meant investigations…whenever they chose them. And prosecutions…whenever they chose them.

So using the word “scandal” in this speech was an intimidation tactic—one the White House encouraged. Ten months had taught them that people resisted far less whenever they wrapped an issue in scandal. And Web was about to wrap it big time.

“What we found is that billions of dollars in federal research is being invested in pure racism. Billions spent to advance the “woke” DEI and sexual agenda in just about every way you can imagine. In who you’ve been hiring. In the research you’ve been doing and articles you’ve been writing. In the art you’ve been commissioning. And in the socialist ideology you’ve been propagating.”

While most sat up, ramrod still, a few heads in the audience had the audacity to shake at these words.

Which only made him smile more.

“So why am I so excited about today’s announcement? Simple.”

He paused for effect.

“Beginning today, as promised, we are deleting the terms ‘sexual orientation’ and ‘gender identity’….’diversity’…”

He slowed down. These were terms these people had lived off of their entire lives. He wanted every word to be heard.

“…‘equity’…..and ‘inclusion’….‘gender,’ ‘gender equality,’ ‘gender equity,’ ‘gender awareness,’ ‘gender sensitive,’ ‘abortion,’ ‘reproductive health,’ and ‘reproductive rights’ from every federal rule, agency regulation, contract, grant, regulation, and piece of legislation that exists.”

Faces remained mostly frozen in place. Eyes vacant. But, Web knew, earthquakes were erupting within each of the arrogant heads before him.

“And to be clear, when I say ‘equity’ and ‘inclusion,’ it means we are eliminating any reference to race in all the same areas.”

As he’d practiced, he pounded the podium so that it shook his microphone, causing a loud thud to echo throughout the ballroom.

Boom.

“Every.”

He pounded again.

Boom.

“Last.”

Boom.

“One.”

Boom.

“Did you hear that, friends?”

A few in the crowd nodded.

“I can’t hear you.” He scanned left and right. “Did you hear that?”

A number said yes out loud, unhappily. Some rolled their eyes.

Drips of sweat were now forming on his nearly bald head, as always happened when he was on a roll. He used a napkin to wipe them off.

“Louder, please.”

“Yes,” they yelled out.

Web grinned, enjoying how pathetic they were. He had just persuaded a room of eggheads—university and hospital presidents, deans, professors, provosts, scientists, doctors, business leaders, and other researchers—to shout yes to a mortal threat to their worlds.

Pathetic and perfect. A DEI audience affirming its own demise.

Plus, these were the people who had convinced his own kids to turn against him once they reached college, with Charlie coming out his freshman year. So watching them squirm was fitting payback.

But the best part was yet to come. Because this was far bigger than erasing words.

“And you heard me say ‘grants’ and ‘contracts,’ right?”

A murmur.

“I can’t hear you.”

Some now said yes.

“Again, louder.”

“Yes!” was shouted from various corners of the room. Not with enthusiasm, but loudly enough he could move on.

“Good. All grants and contracts with references to any of those words, or race or gender generally, are immediately terminated. Not a penny more from this government will support any of your institutions doing such racist work. The federal government is out of the woke history, woke science, DEI, and gender sensitivity business. Forever!”

More murmurs. A few headshakes. But overall, this group was far more submissive than those mobs back in Tallahassee—back when the American woke still thought it would win.

Together, the people in this room received billions in federal grant money. They’d been the willing accomplices of the Deep State. Scooping up billions to advance a poisonous mission.

For many, his announcement would surely mean the end of the gravy train. Careers and jobs and institutions terminated—the true believers who were consumed by “woke,” and had nothing else to offer. Good riddance.

For others, though, the money was the prize. Always had been. For the nimble ones, this would not mean the end—just a change of purpose. A new mission, funded by Web and the federal government. They would submit and serve the new government’s needs.

Did this mean they were corrupt?

Of course.

Government was corrupt by nature. So were those who gobbled up government funds. But Web now controlled its direction and the new ideology the spending would advance.

The difference between those openly shaking their heads at his words and those nodding told him which of the two groups they were in.

“We will now a play a video for you explaining the specific changes and how they will impact you, followed by words of encouragement from the president. When you leave, staff will hand a packet explaining the new process of working with the federal government, should you choose to keep doing so.”

Some faces relaxed. Frowns evened out. Some nods.

Relief everywhere.

For most, he had just thrown them what they wanted. A lifeline.

And this would lead to what he and the president wanted. Submission.

Money had a way of doing that.

“Thank you for your time.”

The applause was muted. The opposite of the cheers he got in friendly, less diverse crowds.

Web Powers didn’t care.

It had taken more time than he’d hoped when the president had appointed him in February. He’d lost his own family along the way.

But now it was done.

He had just fired “woke” from the United States of America.

* * *

“Dr. Joy Brewer”

By Rose Cunningham

NORTH CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

“But we’re so close, Matthias. So close.”

Dr. Joy Brewer and Dr. Matthias Kunz, Director of North Charleston State’s Cancer Center, walked through the lush grass in front of Hampton Hall. The red-brick building and its iconic clocktower were the centerpiece of the stunning campus. And the Hampton Green never looked better than on fall mornings. Still, nothing about the picturesque setting could ease the conversation among two long-time colleagues.

“I know. But there’s nothing I can do. The grants have been canceled.”

“Which grants?” Joy asked.

“All of them. Immediately.”

Her head jerked back his way, jostling the red cat-eye glasses that had become her signature around campus.

“But why?”

She knew the answer, but wanted to hear him articulate it.

He shrugged, an expression she’d seen a lot lately. His attitude had been different since the start of the school year.

“You’ve watched Washington for the past year. They are obsessed with eliminating ‘woke’ from the federal government.”

Woke. Her temperature spiked just hearing the word. It was all so ridiculous.

The first target had been critical race theory—but since her work had nothing to do with that high-level law school approach, the anti-CRT frenzy never impacted her.

But when that ran out of steam, the attack broadened to diversity and equity. DEI. Gender. Bizarrely, “childless women” got tossed into the mix. And then they threw everything together with the catch-all term, “woke.”

Somewhere along the way, even her painstaking work to save lives got caught up in the McCarthy-style frenzy of labels and accusations.

“What does this have to do with being ‘woke’? We’re studying cancer clusters that disproportionately impact Black Americans. It’s the best of science and medicine, and we’re on the verge of major breakthroughs.”

And by major breakthroughs, she meant tens of thousands of lives lengthened by decades.

“I know. We’re so proud of your work. But I heard it directly, and so did the provost. The administration’s bright-line policy is that no federal grants can refer to race or gender or be motivated by race or gender. So they are canceling all of them. And they will investigate any borderline cases.”

A light breeze blew Dr. Kunz’s gray combover out of place. He quickly reached up and pushed it back.

Joy had wrapped her jet-black hair in a tight bun, so it didn’t budge.

“Believe me,” Joy said, shivering in her red leather jacket, “I wish the cancer clusters we’re studying didn’t disproportionately impact Black Alabamans. But they do! It’s just basic scientific inquiry to figure out why, then prevent it.”

The air cooled further as they stepped into the shadow of Hampton Hall.

When you grew up in the South, you always looked up the names. So after she’d landed the job at North Charleston State, Joy had done some digging. It turned out, the grandest building on campus was named after Wade Hampton, one of the old South’s largest slave owners and a Confederate general. He’d later entered politics, playing a leading role in toppling Reconstruction. He was celebrated as the “Savior of South Carolina” for having ushered in an era of white supremacy that survived until only a few years before Joy was born.

The most “woke” thought Joy ever had was the delight in fighting to improve Black health a half-mile from a building celebrating one of Jim Crow’s founders.

But still, science was science. And in this case, the data was clear: her work was saving lives.

“We’ve argued that again and again,” Matthias said. “They won’t listen.”

“Even when it’s to remedy a problem that Black Americans shoulder disproportionately?”

“Specifically when that is the case. That singular focus is what is prohibited.”

Joy felt sick. So much was about to be lost.

Leveraging federal grants, she’d built a formidable team over the past decade. Her diverse, passionate researchers and students were tracking cancer clusters all across the country, in small towns and big cities. And they were pinpointing the scientific and societal factors fueling disproportionally high death rates among Black women. Their work was lifting a population whose worse health outcomes had long been ignored by establishment scientists.

“I’m afraid you will need to redirect your research to another purpose.”

She fixed her glare forward while clenching her jaw. The words hit her harder than anything thus far.

Another purpose.

This was her purpose. Her life’s mission, foisted on her by tragedy.

She was 15 when her mother’s death at 39 years old had cut short her childhood and devastated her family. Her father never recovered, and she’d essentially raised her younger brother.

Dad, an Atlanta math teacher, dug into the cancer that had devastated Mom’s body over mere months. And what he found was that young and middle-aged Black women from rural Georgia were dying of it at a rate far higher than others. He wrote letter after letter to politicians and med schools and hospital executives, begging them to do something about it. And all he got back were form letters full of non-answers. As a white man married to a Black woman, he’d of course witnessed the sting of racism most days since they’d begun dating. But the response here taught him a far more painful lesson. America’s elite, systemically dismissing his concern about life and death itself, showed just how ingrained that racism was and its devastating consequences.

Three years later, as Joy entered Emory, Dad died of a heart attack. When she found his binders of research and box of letters, it broke her heart too. She switched her English major to biology and dedicated her life to lengthening the lives of women like her mother. She would listen to her father’s pleas when no one else would.

“It’s all I’ve ever done, Matthias. I think you know that. I can’t just start a new field.”

“You’re a smart woman, Joy. You can apply for research grants in a different way. Broaden your focus and adjust the language you use, and perhaps you’ll still be approved.”

She cringed again. At his words, and the way he said them. Demeaning in so many ways.

What if she told him to just change his core mission? To strip his life’s work of its central purpose? To be disingenuous about what drove him?

She bit her lip as another gust of wind ruffled his combover.

“How many others will be impacted by this?” she asked.

“Joy, this will devastate so much of our work. Our research on how climate change impacts different populations. Our work on infant mortality of Black babies.”

Joy was friends with the globally recognized scientists doing this work.

“And the high mortality of Black mothers too?”

“That as well,” he nodded, silent for a few seconds. “All unfunded now. So we’re forced to transition on the fly. Our goal is to save as many jobs and as much research as we can. We have payroll to make even though the grants that pay it are gone. And if we don’t move fast, other universities will swoop in and take all the funds.”

Transition.

He was talking fast, but she was still stuck on that one word.

This was all transactional to Matthias. Scrambling to keep the spigot flowing. Altering words and purposes.

Joy looked down at her feet, glowering.

You can’t just “transition” the calling you’ve served your entire life. Or abandon the thousands of families relying on you.

The air warmed as they stepped out of the long shadow of Hampton Hall.

Joy stopped walking, forcing Matthias to do the same.

At just over five feet tall, she looked up at him, right in his eyes, unable to fake a smile.

“Matthias, I appreciate all the support you’ve given my work over the years. But I can’t change what I’m working on any more than I can change who I am.”

He cocked his head.

“So I’m afraid I won’t be able to ‘transition.’”

“But you understand what that means?” he asked, frowning.

She nodded, knowing he had one job to accomplish on this walk. Clarity as to who was in and who was out.

“I do. But if you’re asking me to choose between staying here and staying true to who I am, I have no choice.”

“I understand,” he said amid another gust.

She reached up and patted him on the shoulder, said nothing more, and walked back to her lab for the final time.

General Wade Hampton may have outlasted her at North Charleston State.

But she was still Chris and Nina Brewer’s daughter, and that mattered more than anything else.

Author’s Note:

Just like Webster Powers’ words above, Project 2025 could not be more clear. In fact, Powers’ words above are lifted directly out of Project 2025 “The next conservative President must make the institutions of American civil society hard targets for woke culture warriors. This starts with deleting the terms sexual orientation and gender identity (“SOGI”), diversity, equity, and inclusion (“DEI”), gender, gender equality, gender equity, gender awareness, gender-sensi- tive, abortion, reproductive health, reproductive rights, and any other term used to deprive Americans of their First Amendment rights out of every federal rule, agency regulation, contract, grant, regulation, and piece of legislation that exists.” (page 4-5).

In the Health and Human Services Section of Project 2025, the plan takes aim at the Biden approach of “‘promoting equity in everything we do’ for the sake of “populations sharing a particular characteristic” including race, sexuality, gender identification, ethnicity, and a host of other categories.” (page 449)

And throughout Project 2025, various authors target programs and grants that they claim advances “woke” ideology. In the Education section, the plan calls for “[a]n accounting of how federal programs/grants spread DEI/CRT/ gender ideology….” (page 358).

Finally, because Project 2025 replaces experts and civil servants with political appointees, far more decisions over grant funding and contracts will now be in the hands of ideologues than actual experts. As Scientific American wrote: “The independence of science is being attacked across the board in this document,” says Rachel Cleetus, policy director of the Climate and Energy program at the nonpartisan Union of Concerned Scientists. “The importance of this science is that’s how we can ensure people’s health and the environment are being safeguarded.””

As Axios writes: “Throughout all scientific agencies in the government, the plan calls on the president to "ensure appointees agree with administration aims," which may allow political ideologues to overrule the expertise of trained scientists.”