I Applied to DOGE Using a Fake CV Written by ChatGPT. Here’s What Happened.

When I saw the announcement, I knew I couldn’t resist.

“We are very grateful to the thousands of Americans who have expressed interest in helping us at DOGE. We don’t need more part-time idea generators. We need super high-IQ small-government revolutionaries willing to work 80+ hours per week on unglamorous cost-cutting. If that’s you, DM this account with your CV. Elon & Vivek will review the top 1% of applicants.”

It was part job ad, part rallying cry. The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)—a bold new initiative to trim the fat off bloated bureaucracy—was clearly not looking for your run-of-the-mill policy wonks. They wanted disruptors. Innovators. Revolutionaries with a low tolerance for BS and an unshakable work ethic.

I think of myself as all of those things. But mostly, I am someone who enjoys pushing boundaries, and that job posting had “experiment” written all over it.

So, I did the most DOGE-worthy thing I could think of: I applied with a CV entirely fabricated by ChatGPT. Everything on it—every bullet point, fancy buzzword, and accomplishment- was a highly glorified version of something I did. So, one could say it was 100% fake. But here’s the kicker: this was an unconventional way to get an interview. After all, DOGE wasn’t looking for “normal.” They were looking for someone bold enough to break the system—or at least bend it a little.

Why I Did It

Let me start by saying this wasn’t about “tricking” anyone. It was about testing the limits of the system. If DOGE was serious about cutting through inefficiency, they wouldn’t waste time scrutinizing résumés in the traditional way. They’d focus on potential, bold ideas, and creative thinking. And what’s more creative than handing over the most soul-crushing part of the application process to an AI assistant?

So, I asked ChatGPT to construct my application and let it do its thing. In seconds, it spat out a résumé so dazzling I almost wanted to hire myself.

ChatGPT decided I’d “optimized multi-agency workflows,” “engineered data-driven cost-reduction frameworks,” and “streamlined cross-departmental communication for maximum operational impact.” I don’t even know what half of those words mean in practice, but they sure sounded impressive.

The cover letter? Even better. It opened with a zinger that could make anyone pause: “Government inefficiency isn’t just a problem; it’s an opportunity for reinvention. My unconventional approach is precisely what DOGE needs to deliver transformative results.”

That was the theme, start to finish: unconventional. Bold. Revolutionary. (And totally fake.)

What Happened Next

Here’s the wild part: it actually worked.

I sent the application to DOGE through DM, per their instructions. At first, I assumed it would disappear into the digital void, swallowed by the same inefficiency DOGE was trying to destroy. But a few days later, I got a response.

A staffer informed me that my résumé had been “accepted for initial review.” I almost choked on my coffee. My entirely fake CV, drafted by a robot in under a minute, was apparently good enough to survive the first cut for a position being evaluated by Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy.

The irony was so thick you could cut it with a government-issued letter opener.

The Interview

The team scheduled a brief Zoom call to assess my “vision” for DOGE’s mission. I went into full panic mode. Would they notice the CV was fake? Would I be exposed as some AI-assisted fraud? Or would the entire process reveal that maybe, just maybe, no one actually cares about what’s on the résumé as long as you sound like you know what you’re talking about?

The interview started with a question about my experience “transforming operational inefficiencies.” My strategy? Lean hard into vague statements and jargon.

“Well,” I said, “I believe inefficiencies are often symptoms of deeper structural misalignments. My approach is to empower teams to collaborate across silos while prioritizing scalable solutions.”

This, apparently, was an acceptable answer. The interviewer nodded and asked how I would “streamline government processes while ensuring accountability.” I countered with: “By leveraging data-driven frameworks to identify bottlenecks and eliminate redundancies without sacrificing transparency.”

And just like that, I was halfway through the interview.

The Fallout

I didn’t get the job, of course. A polite rejection email followed a few hours later:

“Thank you for your interest in DOGE. While your credentials were compelling, we are prioritizing candidates with proven track records in large-scale operational cost-cutting and government reform. Best of luck in your future endeavors.”

Honestly, I couldn’t blame them. My fake credentials were compelling—but not exactly proven. And while I wasn’t about to become a small-government revolutionary working 80+ hours a week, I did prove something else: the system wasn’t as airtight as it seemed.

What This Says About the System

Here’s the real takeaway: everything about my application was fake, but it still got me further than I expected. That’s not just funny—it’s revealing. The résumé wasn’t about my actual qualifications; it was about whether I could play the game. And apparently, the game can be played just as well by an algorithm.

But here’s where it gets interesting. DOGE’s mission is to revolutionize government efficiency—to challenge the status quo and deliver bold, transformative change. If that’s the goal, why not embrace unconventional approaches? Sure, using AI to fake a résumé might not be ethical, but it’s a bold experiment that raises a valid point: maybe it’s time to question how we evaluate talent.

At the end of the day, government inefficiency isn’t just about who’s working within the system. It’s about the system itself. And systems don’t change by following tradition—they change when someone dares to break the mold.

The Lesson

This whole experience wasn’t just about testing the boundaries of what AI can do (though that was part of it). It was about testing the boundaries of the system itself. If DOGE is serious about disrupting inefficiency, they’ll need more than high-IQ workaholics with spotless résumés. They’ll need people who think differently—people who are willing to challenge the process from the inside out.

So, while I didn’t get the job, or even an interview or even applied, I just decided to write this blog post. I did learn something important: sometimes, an unconventional approach is exactly what’s needed to shake things up. And if DOGE ever decides they want someone who pioneers disruptive frameworks for irony, they know where to find me. (Just don’t ask for references. ChatGPT didn’t generate that part.)