The moment a congressman’s career ends, his service to the public should, in theory, be complete. His time as a steward of the people’s trust should conclude with a record of upholding national interest over personal gain. But in Washington, careers don’t end—they simply transition from the public sector to the private, often in the most lucrative way possible. The so-called "revolving door" between government and the defense industry is not just an open secret; it is a machine of power, profit, and quiet corruption. A recent investigation reveals nearly 700 instances of former high-ranking DoD and other government officials now working at the top 20 defense contractors, highlighting the urgent need to close this revolving door for ex-government and military officials hired to executive board and lobbyist positions at large defense contractors. In 2022 alone, the top 20 defense contractors employed 672 former government officials, including high-ranking lawmakers and military officers, highlighting the extensive entanglement between public service and private gain. And while politicians on both sides of the aisle have played this game, the Democratic Party—despite its persistent rhetoric about ethical governance—has perfected it into an art form.
Take Sam Nunn, the former senator from Georgia who chaired the powerful Senate Armed Services Committee. For decades, he wielded authority over the Pentagon’s budget, steering billions toward defense contractors. Then, upon leaving office, he promptly joined the board of General Electric—a company deeply entrenched in military contracts. Between 2008 and 2012 alone, Nunn earned a staggering $4,795,404 serving on corporate boards, including GE. One might reasonably ask: was Nunn’s advocacy for generous defense budgets driven purely by national security concerns, or did the lucrative post-Senate opportunities play a role? His placement on GE’s board was no coincidence. It was a reward.
Consider Kelly Ayotte, another former senator who served on the Senate Armed Services Committee. As a senator, she championed increased military spending, fought against budget caps that restrained Pentagon expenditures, and pushed for costly weapons programs. She was a vocal proponent of the F-35 fighter jet—perhaps the most expensive weapons program in history. And in the blink of an eye, after losing her reelection bid, she found herself on the board of BAE Systems, Inc., one of the world’s largest defense contractors. BAE Systems had a vested interest in the very programs Ayotte championed in the Senate. Since 2017, Ayotte has earned an estimated $3.2 million from corporate board positions, including BAE. That she was handed a prestigious and well-compensated board seat speaks volumes about how Washington works. A politician spends years advocating for a company's products, ensuring massive government contracts, and then—when her time in office is over—she is welcomed with open arms by the very industry she supported.
Former House members are no exception to this pattern of self-enrichment. Consider Vic Fazio, who spent two decades in Congress, much of it on the House Appropriations Committee, where he had a direct hand in crafting defense budgets. Like clockwork, after his retirement, he secured a coveted position on Northrop Grumman’s board. Over the course of his tenure there, Fazio earned an estimated $3.23 million. For nearly two decades, Fazio advised the same company whose defense contracts he had helped fund while in office. The message is clear: if you play ball with the military-industrial complex while in power, there is a golden parachute waiting for you when you step down.
One of the more brazen cases is Heather Wilson, a former congresswoman from New Mexico. While in office, she steered funding toward Air Force programs and nuclear weapons development, both areas in which Lockheed Martin—the defense behemoth—had a significant stake. The moment she left office, Wilson became a highly paid consultant for a Lockheed subsidiary. This was not a quiet, behind-the-scenes role—she actively worked to secure federal funds for Lockheed projects. Her subsequent nomination as Secretary of the Air Force in 2017 only further exposed the rot in Washington’s revolving door. And, as expected, her final landing place? Lockheed Martin’s board of directors. Since leaving office, Wilson has earned an estimated $4 million from her various board positions.
This pattern is not a coincidence; it is a cycle of influence and reward. At least 50 members of Congress or their households currently hold stock in defense contractors—companies that receive hundreds of billions of dollars annually from Pentagon appropriations legislation crafted by Congress itself. The total value of these stock holdings could be as much as $10.9 million, according to a 2023 analysis of financial disclosures and stock trades. This means lawmakers are not only benefiting from defense contractor board positions after leaving office, but are also profiting from the very companies they regulate while still in power. Democratic lawmakers, who decry the influence of money in politics and claim to stand for the average citizen, are some of the worst offenders. They accept their salaries as public servants, wield influence over defense budgets, and then, once out of office, take cushy positions in the very industry they once oversaw. They claim to work for the interests of national security, but their career trajectories suggest a different motivation: self-interest.
Critics argue that this is not illegal. That is precisely the problem. As Senator Warren has noted, 'When government officials cash in on their public service by lobbying, advising, or serving as board members and executives for the companies they used to regulate, it undermines public officials’ integrity and casts doubt on the fairness of government contracting.' This concern is especially pronounced in the Department of Defense, where the influence of defense contractors has grown unchecked. Ethics laws governing post-congressional employment are woefully inadequate. While executive branch officials are subject to strict rules about lobbying and conflicts of interest, members of Congress face few such restrictions. A former lawmaker can join a defense contractor’s board almost immediately after leaving office. And since board membership is not technically lobbying, they are free to use their influence and inside knowledge to help these companies secure ever-larger defense contracts.
The consequences of this cycle are far-reaching. The most widely held defense contractor stock among senators and representatives is Honeywell, which produces sensors and guiding devices used in Israeli military airstrikes in Gaza. The second most commonly held defense stock by Congress is RTX (formerly Raytheon), which manufactures missiles for Israel’s Iron Dome. With more than half of the Pentagon’s nearly $1 trillion budget going to private contractors, congressional ownership of these stocks raises glaring conflicts of interest. It raises serious questions about whether defense budgets are crafted with the public interest in mind or if they are tailored to secure post-congressional careers. It incentivizes excessive military spending, not because it is necessary, but because it ensures lucrative opportunities for those in power. And it fundamentally erodes public trust. When voters see their representatives cash in on their former positions, it fuels cynicism and disillusionment with the entire system.
If Washington is to maintain even a semblance of integrity, this revolving door must be shut. It is an obvious conflict of interest when members of Congress hold significant investments in companies that stand to gain from the military budgets they authorize. As national defense funding has increased by nearly 20% since 2021, so too have the financial stakes for lawmakers invested in these companies. Public Citizen’s Craig Holman has called for stricter regulations, arguing that such investments erode trust in government and compromise fair policymaking. Senator Warren’s Department of Defense Ethics and Anti-Corruption Act proposes much-needed reforms, including limiting contractor influence on the military, constraining foreign influence on retired senior military officers, and asserting greater transparency over contractors and their interaction with the DoD. Congress should extend the cooling-off period for former lawmakers before they can join defense contractors and implement stricter conflict-of-interest rules that prohibit those who previously oversaw defense budgets from working for companies that directly benefited from their legislative influence. Congress should impose stricter rules on post-service employment, extending the cooling-off period and placing firm bans on board memberships for companies that profit from congressional decisions. Until then, the cycle will continue, and the American taxpayer will foot the bill—not just for the bloated defense budgets, but for the personal enrichment of the politicians who claim to serve them.
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