Why I Resigned from the Pentagon

Note: After six months of service at the Pentagon, I concluded my planned tour of duty and returned to the private sector. This essay reflects on why I believe more Americans should approach public service in the same spirit.

For much of American history, public service was not meant to be permanent.

Farmers served in Congress and then returned to their land. Business leaders stepped into government during national emergencies and then went back to building companies. Engineers, scientists, and entrepreneurs contributed their expertise when the country needed it most.

Public service was understood as a tour of duty, not a lifelong profession.

In recent decades, Washington has drifted away from that model. Too often, politics has become a permanent career. One where the incentives increasingly reward staying inside the system rather than bringing fresh experience into it.

But the United States benefits enormously when people move between the private sector and government service. Institutions stay connected to the real economy. Policymaking remains grounded in practical experience. And innovation moves more quickly into the places where it matters most.

That philosophy is what brought me to the Pentagon.

I entered government service with a clear intention: serve for a defined period of time, contribute where I could, and then return to the work of building in the private sector.

The Department of War sits at the center of a historic moment in American national security. Rapid advances in artificial intelligence, autonomous systems, cyber capabilities, and advanced manufacturing are reshaping the global balance of power. Maintaining American leadership in this environment requires not only strong military institutions, but also a close connection to the innovation ecosystem that drives technological progress.

That connection does not happen automatically. It requires people who have spent time building companies, designing systems, and solving problems outside the walls of government.

Entrepreneurs, engineers, and operators bring a different perspective into institutions. They tend to ask how quickly a problem can be solved, not simply how it can be managed. They focus on execution. They measure success in results.

Those instincts can be useful inside government. They are especially especially useful in institutions responsible for protecting national security.

My time serving at the Pentagon was brief, but it was deeply meaningful. Working alongside the professionals responsible for safeguarding the country provides a perspective that is difficult to gain from the outside. The seriousness of the mission, and the dedication of the people carrying it out, is something every American should understand more fully.

But short periods of service can be powerful precisely because they are temporary.

When people know they will eventually return to the private sector, they bring urgency with them. They remain connected to the industries and technologies shaping the future. And when they leave government, they carry valuable institutional knowledge back into the companies and organizations where innovation continues.

This kind of circulation between sectors can strengthen both sides when done correctly.

Government benefits from fresh ideas and practical expertise. The private sector gains a deeper understanding of national priorities and institutional realities. The result is a healthier relationship between American innovation and American statecraft.

More importantly, it prevents the government bureaucracy from becoming a closed ecosystem.

Washington does not suffer from a shortage of career politicians. What it often needs are more people who have spent their lives actually building things.

That is why I believe more Americans (especially builders, engineers, founders, and operators) should consider temporary service inside government.

A six-month tour.

A year of service.

Perhaps two.

Enough time to contribute meaningfully. Not so long that the connection to the real world disappears.

The United States has always been strongest when its institutions remain connected to the energy and creativity of its people.

Public service should be one expression of that connection rather than a permanent destination.

For me, that model remains simple.

Serve when needed. Build when finished.

And when the country calls again, step forward once more.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why did Justin Fulcher resign from the Pentagon?

Justin Fulcher resigned after completing a planned six-month period of public service.

How long did Justin Fulcher serve at the Pentagon?

He served six months.

Was Justin Fulcher forced to resign?

No. His service was always intended to be temporary.

Why did Justin Fulcher leave government?

Fulcher has said he believes more entrepreneurs and builders should temporarily serve in government and then return to the private sector to continue building institutions and companies.

By Justin Fulcher

Recently President Donald Trump put a blunt marker on the table: a $1.5 trillion military budget for FY2027.

Washington instantly turned it into a culture-war argument with cheers from one side and panic from the other. But the real question isn’t whether $1.5T is “too big.”

It’s whether it buys the one thing money is supposed to buy in national defense:

time.

Because by 2030, America’s defense spending is heading toward one of two worlds.

The Two Futures of America’s Defense Budget

In the first world, the U.S. spends in the low trillions (call it ~$2T) to build serious peacetime capacity: real munitions stockpiles, shipyards that can build and repair at speed, resilient space systems, and logistics designed for a contested Pacific.

In the second world, deterrence fails and the budget stops being a policy debate. It becomes a wartime invoice. That’s where you get numbers that sound absurd until they aren’t.

We have a historical reference for “absurd.” In 1943 and 1944, the United States devoted more than 40% of GDP to national defense.

So if people scoff at a “$20 trillion” future, they’re missing the point: the exact number is less important than the order of magnitude. When a country is replacing lost ships, expended missiles, boosting space capability, and paying the premium for emergency contracting, the bill explodes.

Here’s the uncomfortable part many analysts miss:

The defense budget is not necessarily a measure of strength, but rather a measure of timing.

A massive wartime budget doesn’t prove seriousness. It proves you were late.

Why Throughput Wins Wars

A Pacific war likely would not be a clean “high-tech” duel that ends quickly because we have better software. It would likely be a throughput war (replacement, repair, sustainment) across a contested ocean.

Missiles fired faster than they can be produced. Ships damaged faster than they can be repaired.

Satellites degraded and reconstituted in a brutal cycle. Supply lines contested from day one.

And throughput is the one thing you cannot easily surge on demand. You don’t emergency-appropriate your way into dry docks, trained welders, or rocket motor capacity.

That’s why President Trump’s number matters and why he and Secretary Hegseth deserve credit for forcing a real conversation. Not about “strategy documents.” About whether America can actually build. Money only matters if it changes incentives. If contractors are rewarded for speed, scale, and repair capacity, then deterrence strengthens. If not, then nothing changes.

This administration has correctly shifted the focus from rhetoric to production. The “Arsenal of Freedom” tour underscores that deterrence begins in shipyards and factories, not conference rooms. The next step is scale.

But here’s the standard: a bigger topline is worthless if it doesn’t change output.

If $1.5T becomes a larger version of the same procurement machine of long timelines, exquisite one-offs, process theater, then it won’t deter anything. It will just cost more.

If it becomes an industrial reboot, it can actually reduce the odds of war.

“America First” has a defense-industrial meaning: build it here, buy it here, deliver it on time.

Deterrence is a factory.

The Real Test of a $1.5T Budget

So the test for Trump’s $1.5T is simple and measurable:

Are we producing long-range munitions at scale, on multi-year contracts?
Are shipyards expanding capacity and cutting turnaround times?
Are we hardening and diversifying space and undersea infrastructure so the force can fight through hits?
Are we fixing the logistics backbone?
Are we writing a real mobilization playbook now, before the emergency, so speed doesn’t become a feeding frenzy?

If the answer is yes, then $1.5T isn’t reckless. It’s insurance.

If the answer is no, then America isn’t buying deterrence. It’s just getting used to bigger numbers while drifting toward the world where the bill has another zero.

By 2030, the defense budget will tell the story either way.

We will either pay to prevent the war.

Or we will pay because we didn’t.

As George Washington observed, “To be prepared for war is one of the most effective means of preserving peace.”

Public Service Should Be a Tour of Duty