The latest government shutdown began at 12:01 a.m. on October 1, 2025, when Congress failed to pass either a continuing resolution, or full-year appropriations for the new fiscal year. For the next 43 days, it would lead to the longest government shutdown in the history of the United States, as Democrats and Republicans remained in a deadlock. On November 10, the Senate approved a bipartisan spending bill, the House followed on November 12, and President Trump signed, reopening the government again.
As Congress moved to reopen the government, many Americans hoped that the resolution would be a turning point. Instead, Government Professor Nicholas Jacobs says the shutdown’s end highlights a pattern that has defined Washington for years: political brinkmanship fuels spectacle and uncertainty, and almost never leads to any real meaningful policy change.
“Shutdowns don’t work,” Jacobs said. “They don’t create leverage, they don’t produce policy wins, and they don’t change the underlying political incentives. They’re a very dramatic way of proving that Congress has run out of ideas.”
Jacobs also notes that while shutdowns often draw much media attention, they tend to leave the political landscape almost exactly as they began. This latest showdown, he argues, was no different.
The country’s overall public opinion barely budged during the course of the showdown, largely because views were set long before the funding lapse started. “Minds were already made up,” Jacobs explained. “Democrats blamed Trump. Republicans blamed Democrats. Independents reminded themselves why they were independent, because both parties are in it for themselves. So nothing has really changed.”
In his view, shutdowns have become a type of predictable ritual: each political side starts to point fingers, claims moral high-ground, then waits for the other to fold, while voters and citizens alike are left dealing with frustration and growing fatigue. Jacobs believes that if anything changes, it’s not ideology, but a heightened sense of distrust. Here it seems there is a widening gap between public expectations and what our political institutions actually deliver.
One of the most serious long term effects, Jacobs argues, is the weakening of the public’s trust. “People see leaders who seem more animated by the fight than by the function,” he said. “And they draw the obvious conclusion: if the system can’t manage something as basic as keeping itself open, why should anyone believe it can deliver on bigger promises?”
For all the tension that exists, dealing with, and subsequently ending the shutdown avoided none of the policy issues that caused it in the first place. “The shutdown didn’t solve any underlying policy problems,” he said. “Democrats passed the law that allowed premium ACA subsidy credits to sunset because they were tied to the COVID emergency, and that reality is now colliding with higher premiums and insurer uncertainty.”
Economically, the aftermath from that policy debate looms larger than the existence of the shutdown itself. The idea of restarting the government just to bring federal workers back online and restore services seems like a good idea — a reboot of some sorts — but it does not address the deeper structural issues that sit within the healthcare system. “The shutdown’s end changes none of that,” Jacobs said. “It just restarts the clock on a set of problems Congress hasn’t addressed.”
He also pointed to a subtle political shift seeping out from some progressives. “… [S]ome progressives are starting to ask whether they should keep spending scarce political capital defending a policy that isn’t actually stabilizing healthcare and whether that loyalty is driven more by attachment to Obama’s legacy than by an honest assessment of what’s working.”
Looking past the policy fights, the actual human and institutional costs of the showdown were quieter, but still important. While federal workers will eventually get their back pay, Jacobs warned of the collective damage caused by the disrupted services. “… [P]rocessing delays, slowed benefits, research interruptions and the quiet administrative work that keeps programs moving,” he said. “Those aren’t dramatic, but they accumulate.”
For institutions and educational services like the College, the shutdown posed little immediate threat. “Colby, frankly, isn’t hit very hard,” Jacobs said. “We don’t depend on large federal grant pipelines, and this isn’t a crunch period for visas or major aid processing, so most of the turbulence barely reached campus this time around.” Still, he cautioned against complacency, for higher education relies on an extensive web of federal support like, as Jacobs referenced, “FAFSA timing, IRS verification, NSF review cycles.” These structures are often invisible until there is an issue at hand that must be rectified.
“Shutdowns reveal how much even well-resourced colleges rely on quiet, invisible federal machinery… and how brittle those systems have become,” Jacobs said. “So while Colby isn’t squeezed this time, it’s a reminder that higher education is only as stable as the federal infrastructure it quietly leans on.”
As students start to prepare for Thanksgiving break and as Washington settles back into its usual rhythm, Jacobs believes the lessons from this shutdown should be clear, especially for young people in America witnessing her governance in real time. His message is simple: “Shutdowns don’t work. Brinksmanship doesn’t work.”
The shutdown may have come to an end, but the political motivations that made it possible remain strong. For Jacobs, that is where the real takeaway lies: not just in the drama of confrontation, but a deeper instability. Without foundational reform put in place, he warns, future shutdowns are not just possible, but likely inevitable to occur.
~ Mia Dinunzio `28
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