Are Americans and the British Alike in Supporting Government Worker Firings?

Would Britain Cheer or Jeer a Purge of Its Public Workers? Lessons from America’s Federal Firings

In the United States, a seismic shift is rattling the federal workforce. President Donald Trump, flanked by Elon Musk and the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), is slashing jobs—tens of thousands gone, with more in the crosshairs. Some Americans cheer, envisioning a leaner state; others decry the fallout. Across the Atlantic, Britain watches, pondering: Could its 5.7 million public sector workers face a similar reckoning? More crucially, would the British public accept it? Drawing from America’s experience and Britain’s unique pulse, the answer lies in a mix of resentment, necessity, and identity.

America’s Federal Firings: Resentment Unleashed

Catherine Byrd, a retired business owner from Georgia, is thrilled with Trump’s push to shrink what she calls a “bloated federal workforce.” “I don’t feel bad for them a bit,” she told The Wall Street Journal on March 21, 2025. “I’ve worked in the private sector all my life,” facing layoffs early on, she said. “You go out and find another job, and there are plenty of jobs to find.” Her stance mirrors a cohort of Americans who resent federal workers, seen as cushioned by stability and perks like guaranteed pensions—rarities in the private sector. Data backs this perception: the Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis shows federal employees dodge layoffs more than private workers, a gap stark during COVID-19’s early days, while the Congressional Budget Office notes they spend less time unemployed.

This resentment has deep roots. Ronald Reagan’s 1986 quip—“the nine most terrifying words in the English language are: ‘I’m from the government and I’m here to help’”—still echoes. Trump amplifies it, claiming the federal payroll teems with slackers. Musk, handed a chainsaw by Argentina’s Javier Milei at CPAC in February 2025, vows to slash $1 trillion via DOGE. Over 100,000 jobs have vanished—IRS clerks, USAID staff, even probationary hires blocked by judges. Polls reflect the divide: 59% support downsizing (Reuters/Ipsos, March 2025), yet 60% disapprove of Musk’s approach (Quinnipiac, same month). Randy Johnson, a 75-year-old retired math teacher from Tennessee who voted for Trump, shrugs, “How many people get fired from a government position? Not many.” He adds, “I don’t hear enough about how the cuts might be a good thing.”

The human toll stings. Meredith Lopez, 38, a laid-off USAID contractor from Dallas, mourns her role aiding 60 countries, like a Honduras river cleanup. “It’s a calling,” she says, not just a job. Judy Cameron, a $19-an-hour IRS clerk in Kansas City, loved her gig despite public scorn—“People gave me dirty looks”—until her February 2025 firing, later reversed by court order. Now on indefinite leave, she fumes, “Let me do something wrong to fire me… It was just ‘let’s kick you out like trash.’” Yet Raymond Reed, a 70-year-old California landlord, cheers, “Support it? I’m telling them to do more of it. Let ’em go; get rid of them.”

Britain’s Public Sector: A Different Breed

Shift to the UK, where 5.7 million public sector workers—17% of the workforce—staff the NHS, civil service, and councils. Like U.S. federal employees, they enjoy stability—redundancies are rare, per the Office for National Statistics, and pensions endure. But Britain’s bond with its public servants differs. The NHS, with 1.3 million workers, is a postwar icon, clapped for during the pandemic. A 2023 YouGov poll pegs its approval at 68%, dwarfing America’s 20% trust in federal government (Pew Research). Civil servants, though mocked as stuffy, earn respect for keeping the nation humming.

Yet discontent brews. Thatcher’s 1980s cuts and Cameron’s 2010-2016 austerity slashed 20% of civil service jobs, dropping the count to 384,000. The TaxPayers’ Alliance claims £15 billion in waste—empty offices, overlapping quangos—echoing U.S. gripes about bloat. Brexit’s “take back control” rhetoric could target Whitehall next. Could Britain’s public workers face a DOGE-style purge, and would the public cheer or jeer?

Acceptability in the UK: A Spectrum of Sentiment

Would Britons embrace firing their public workers? The answer spans cheers, jeers, and a wary middle ground, shaped by culture, economics, and politics.

Cheers for a Cull: Skepticism about government inefficiency runs deep. A 2024 Ipsos Mori poll shows 54% want more public spending, but 45% see waste—a tension reformers could exploit. The TaxPayers’ Alliance’s £15 billion figure resonates with taxpayers irked by council delays or NHS wait times. In focus groups (Institute for Government, 2023), Britons vent about bureaucracy, suggesting openness to cuts. Brexit voters—half the 2016 electorate—might cheer a leaner state as sovereignty reborn. A YouGov 2023 survey found 55% favor “more efficient” government; if a purge hit quangos (70+ agencies costing £200 billion, per the National Audit Office), not nurses, acceptance could rise. Think Raymond Reed’s “do more of it” vibe, tempered by British restraint.

Jeers for a Purge: Resistance is fierce where it counts. The NHS is sacrosanct—82% call it “crucial” (British Social Attitudes, 2022). Cuts there spark riots, as Hunt’s austerity rows proved. Beyond healthcare, public jobs anchor regions—22% of North East employment (Institute for Fiscal Studies). Mass firings could gut towns like Middlesbrough, not just annoy them like U.S. federal cuts. Britain craves stability, not upheaval—America’s chaos tolerance doesn’t translate. Only 30% back deep cuts (Resolution Foundation, 2023), even among Tories, far from U.S. Republican fervor. Judy Cameron’s “kick you out like trash” lament might echo here, amplified by NHS loyalty.

The Middle Ground: Nuance rules. A gradual purge—buyouts, not sackings—might fly. Blair’s Gershon Review cut 84,000 jobs quietly by 2005, proving efficiency can stick if framed as reform. Targeting waste (e.g., £500 million in unused Whitehall leases) could win nods, but a Muskian blitz? Doubtful. Mary Dixson, a San Antonio professor, critiques U.S. opacity—“If you can’t say what they do, that’s not data-driven.” Britons agree—62% want “evidence-based” reform (Demos, 2024). Without it, trust, fragile post-Partygate, could collapse. Darien Rizo, a Tennessee banker, sees U.S. cuts as “revolutionary”; Britain might settle for “reasonable.”

Class and Politics: Acceptability splits by tribe. Southern middle classes grumble about taxes and might cheer (YouGov, 2023); northern working classes, tied to public jobs, would jeer. Tories (38% of 2024 voters, BBC) lean toward efficiency; Labour’s base (42%) defends services. A purge must navigate this, pruning back-office roles while sparing bin collectors.

Should Britain Follow—and Could It?

Should the UK emulate America? Efficiency tempts—a £22 billion fiscal hole (Rachel Reeves, 2024) begs solutions. Savings could fund NHS beds, echoing Catherine Byrd’s “plenty of jobs” optimism. The U.S. might prove it works, if DOGE’s chaos yields gains. But risks loom—service snarls, talent loss like Lopez’s, and NHS strain (7.6 million waiting, NHS England, 2024). Britain could do it—Thatcher and Cameron did—but not Trump-style. Gradual cuts, targeting quangos over carers, fit its evidence-driven bent.

Verdict: Trim, Don’t Torch

America’s purge, bold and divisive, reflects its ethos—Reed’s “let ’em go” versus Cameron’s “best job I’ve ever had.” Britain’s public might cheer a tidy-up but jeer a teardown. YouGov’s 55% for efficiency versus 30% for deep cuts suggests reform trumps revolution. The NHS’s halo, regional stakes, and stability bias demand a scalpel, not a chainsaw. Britain should watch, learn, and snip—not swing.