OPINION: DOGE is dismantling the Pentagon — the GAO sounds the alarm on defense cuts

A report that shakes Washington

On June 23, 2026, the Government Accountability Office released a damning document: the massive civilian workforce cuts imposed by the Department of Government Efficiency at the Pentagon are already producing measurable disruptions in operational readiness. This is not an opposition think tank's warning shot. This is the federal government's own auditor speaking — and it is speaking loudly.

The GAO report identifies specific functions — logistics management, IT systems maintenance, weapons program oversight — where civilian staff reductions have left critical gaps that no private contractor has yet filled, and that no active-duty soldier can replace without stripping resources from elsewhere. The efficiency promised by DOGE is real on a spreadsheet. On the ground, the math is considerably messier.

The doctrine of the great disruption

The architects of DOGE — led by Elon Musk and embedded across federal agencies — operate on a single premise: government is bloated, and cutting it fast is the only way to cut it right. In the private sector, that logic has produced Tesla, SpaceX, a dozen revolutions. In a Department of Defense managing seventeen active military programs, thousands of supply chains, and commitments spanning NATO to the Indo-Pacific, the logic collides with a wall of irreducible complexity.

When a tech startup lays off forty percent of its workforce overnight, it pivots. When the Pentagon loses forty percent of its acquisition specialists, F-35 maintenance contracts slip, ammunition stockpile audits stall, and the institutional knowledge of how to buy a submarine walks out the door carrying a severance package. That knowledge does not come back on demand.

I'll say it plainly: applying Silicon Valley disruption logic to national defense is not bold governance — it is recklessness dressed up as innovation. The private sector tolerates failure as a learning mechanism. Defense does not get that luxury. There is no pivot after a failed deterrence posture.

A cut too big to be real

Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has proposed cutting $350 billion from Pentagon spending over the next five years — approximately eight percent of the projected defense budget. The figure sounds surgical when stated as a percentage. Laid out in dollars, it represents the entire annual defense budgets of France, Germany, and the United Kingdom combined. This is not trimming fat. This is excising muscle.

The proposal rests on the assumption that efficiency gains from technology adoption, contractor consolidation, and workforce modernization will absorb the cuts without degrading capability. The GAO report suggests otherwise. Efficiency gains take years to materialize. Capability losses arrive immediately, on the day the clearance badge stops working.

Hegseth is not wrong that the Pentagon has inefficiencies — every institution of its size does. But the solution to administrative bloat is not amputating the people who know how to run the place. It is reforming the processes they operate within. That distinction is not semantic. It is the difference between a leaner military and a broken one.And let us not pretend this happens in a vacuum. While the Pentagon is being restructured under the pressure of ideology and a spreadsheet, Russia is rebuilding its industrial base, China is accelerating its naval expansion, and Iran is playing every card it has left. The timing could not be worse.

A $20 billion bet on Silicon Valley defense

In March 2026, Anduril Industries — the defense tech startup founded by Palmer Luckey — secured a $20 billion contract with the Department of Defense for autonomous systems and AI-driven defense platforms. The contract is the largest ever awarded to a company less than ten years old, and it signals a profound structural shift in how Washington intends to buy its military capability.

The logic is seductive: Anduril moves faster than Lockheed Martin, costs less per unit on certain platforms, and does not carry the legacy overhead of a Cold War-era prime contractor. Its Lattice AI platform integrates sensor data across battlefield domains in real time. In the abstract, this is the future of war. In practice, a $20 billion bet on a single startup — however impressive — is a concentration of risk that traditional procurement models were explicitly designed to prevent.

The venture capital flood reshaping military supply chains

The Anduril contract did not land in isolation. In the first half of 2026 alone, $12.3 billion in venture capital flowed into US defense technology startups — a figure that would have been unthinkable five years ago. From drone swarm systems to hypersonic interceptors to AI-enabled logistics, private capital is now a primary driver of American military modernization.

This is both the solution and the problem. Private sector speed is real. Accountability mechanisms, however, were built for a world where the primary customer was a government contracting officer with a multi-year timeline. When the timeline compresses to six months and the capital is from a Sand Hill Road fund, the oversight structures designed to prevent cost overruns and ensure operational reliability are under severe pressure. The GAO was built for one world. The current procurement environment is something else entirely.

I have watched this argument cycle through Washington for twenty years. "The private sector will do it better, faster, cheaper." Sometimes it does. But defense is not a product category. It is a public obligation. And public obligations cannot be governed by quarterly earnings calls.

The invisible workforce holding the military together

Pentagon civilians — the roughly 750,000 Department of Defense civilian employees — are almost never in the news. They do not wear uniforms. They do not give press conferences. They process procurement contracts, maintain classified databases, run human resources for an organization larger than most countries' entire militaries, and serve as the institutional memory of a bureaucracy that has been accumulating operational complexity since World War II.

The DOGE cuts have eliminated tens of thousands of these positions, many through deferred resignation programs that paid employees to leave without requiring cause. The GAO found that in several program offices, the departure of key civilians created knowledge gaps that active-duty personnel were neither trained nor resourced to fill. The result: delayed contracts, stalled audits, and in at least one documented case, a weapons program milestone review that had to be postponed because the people who knew how to conduct it were gone.

The myth of the replaceable bureaucrat

There is a persistent fantasy in Washington's anti-government circles that any federal civilian can be replaced by a contractor, a piece of software, or simply eliminated. The GAO report is the latest in a long line of evidence suggesting this fantasy has a price tag. Contractors cost more per hour. They do not carry institutional loyalty. They rotate off programs. And critically, they cannot hold certain classified roles that require a specific kind of long-term government employment status.

The civilian workforce is not a line item to be optimized. It is, in many cases, the connective tissue between military strategy and operational execution. When you cut it carelessly, the muscle below does not compensate automatically. It strains. It tears. And the damage is not always visible until the moment it matters most — which, by definition, is during a crisis.

This is the fundamental dishonesty of the DOGE sales pitch applied to defense: it promises efficiency without acknowledging the systemic cost of institutional knowledge loss. You can count the salaries saved. You cannot easily count the deterrence value of the expertise that walked out the door.

Congress pushes back through the appropriations process

Reported by Inside Defense on June 24, 2026, House Appropriators are seeking to embed language in the FY2027 defense bill that would significantly restrict the Pentagon's ability to reprogram funds — that is, to move money between authorized accounts without explicit congressional approval. This is a direct response to concerns that the Hegseth Pentagon has been using reprogramming flexibility to effectively implement DOGE-driven cuts that Congress has not formally approved.

The constitutional stakes are real. Article I gives Congress the power of the purse. When the executive branch uses administrative flexibility to redirect defense spending in ways that circumvent appropriations, it is not simply a policy disagreement. It is a challenge to the fundamental architecture of democratic accountability over military spending. The House move is, in that sense, the legislature doing its job.

The FY2027 battle lines are drawn

The FY2027 National Defense Authorization Act is shaping up to be the most contentious in years. Beyond the reprogramming restrictions, House and Senate negotiators are divided over the scope of DOGE-driven civilian reductions, the pace of technology investment in autonomous systems, and the appropriate level of continued Ukraine security assistance. Each of these fault lines runs through the same underlying question: who decides what the American military is for, and on what timeline?

The answer, constitutionally, is Congress. The answer, operationally under the current administration, has sometimes been DOGE. That tension — between democratic accountability and executive-branch efficiency ideology — will define American defense policy for at least the next two years.

I find myself in an unusual position: defending Congressional prerogative over the executive branch in a defense context. But when the alternative is allowing an unelected efficiency bureau to unilaterally reshape the world's most powerful military, the institutional argument is not pedantry — it is survival of the oversight mechanisms that prevent catastrophic strategic error.

The investment surge and its strategic implications

The $12.3 billion in venture capital invested in US defense startups in the first half of 2026 is not simply an investment trend. It is a structural transformation of the American defense industrial base. For the first time in modern history, more innovation in certain defense technology domains — particularly autonomous systems, electronic warfare, and AI-enabled logistics — is happening outside the traditional prime contractor ecosystem than inside it.

This has genuine strategic advantages. Startups iterate faster. They recruit talent that Northrop Grumman and Raytheon struggle to attract. They are not burdened by Cold War-era cost-plus contracting structures that reward spending over performance. The Anduril model, the Palantir model, the Shield AI model — each represents a real departure from the status quo, and not always in a bad direction.

The accountability gap nobody is talking about

What the investment surge does not solve is the accountability problem. When a traditional prime contractor delivers a system late and over budget, there are congressional hearings, inspector general investigations, and contractual penalties that have been refined over decades. When a venture-backed startup delivering a classified system runs into trouble, the oversight infrastructure is considerably less developed.

The National Taxpayers Union analysis of the FY2026 defense appropriations flagged this gap explicitly: new contracting vehicles designed for commercial technology acquisition lack the audit trail and transparency requirements of traditional FAR-based contracts. In a world where $12.3 billion is flowing through those vehicles in a single half-year, the gap is not theoretical. It is an active vulnerability in the public accountability of American defense spending.

The venture capital flood into defense is not inherently dangerous — in fact, it could be America's greatest strategic advantage in the next decade. But advantage and accountability must scale together. Right now, accountability is lagging by several years and several billion dollars.

How domestic cuts reach the front line in Kherson

The connection between DOGE cuts at the Pentagon and military support for Ukraine is not metaphorical. It runs through specific logistics functions. The Defense Contract Management Agency — which oversees the execution of contracts for ammunition production, artillery systems, and air defense components — is among the agencies where civilian workforce reductions have been most acute. Fewer contract management personnel means slower execution. Slower execution means delayed deliveries. Delayed deliveries means Ukrainian forces waiting at the front for ammunition that was authorized but not yet shipped.

The GAO did not make this link explicitly in its June 23 report — that would require a classified annex. But the institutional logic is inescapable. When the people responsible for executing security assistance contracts are gone, the assistance slows. Volodymyr Zelensky does not need to read a GAO report to feel the effects. His commanders feel it in their inventory levels.

NATO Ankara and the stakes of American institutional reliability

The NATO Ankara summit, scheduled for July 7-8, 2026, will test whether American allies retain confidence in the United States as a reliable defense partner. Germany has committed to $150 billion per year by 2029. Poland is at 4.3% of GDP. The Europeans are, at long last, doing what Washington has demanded for thirty years. What they now need in return is an American defense partner whose institutional capacity matches its treaty obligations — not one that is simultaneously cutting the civilian workforce responsible for executing those obligations.

The optics at Ankara matter. But the substance matters more. And the substance is this: if DOGE has degraded the Pentagon's ability to execute security assistance at scale, then the trillion dollars in European defense spending announced with such fanfare at the White House on June 25 will be building on a foundation whose American cornerstone is showing cracks.

Zelensky needs weapons, not applause. The allies need execution, not press releases. If DOGE has compromised the Pentagon's logistical backbone, every commitment made at Ankara is built on a foundation we have quietly hollowed out. That is the truth nobody wants to say out loud in Washington right now.

The countervailing forces are not silent

The DOGE project at the Pentagon has not proceeded without resistance. The Government Accountability Office — a constitutionally independent legislative branch agency — has been methodical in documenting the consequences of the cuts. Its June 23 report joins a series of earlier findings on acquisition delays, IT system vulnerabilities, and civilian workforce morale that collectively paint a picture of an institution under stress.

Federal employee unions have filed legal challenges to the deferred resignation programs and the mass terminations. Several have won preliminary injunctions in federal court — though the Supreme Court's recent jurisprudence on executive authority has progressively narrowed the window for such relief. The legal battles continue. The workforce reductions, in many cases, have already happened. Injunctions can halt further cuts. They cannot recall the institutional knowledge that has already left.

The bipartisan unease that dares not speak its name

Here is the political reality that the FY2027 appropriations process is revealing: there is significant bipartisan anxiety about the pace and scope of Pentagon DOGE cuts among members of Congress who will not say so publicly. Defense-state Republicans — members whose districts host military installations, prime contractor facilities, and large civilian defense workforces — are acutely aware that the cuts translate directly into local economic damage and potentially into reduced military capability at installations their constituents depend on.

The House Appropriators' move to restrict reprogramming flexibility is, in part, a vehicle for this bipartisan unease to express itself procedurally without requiring a direct public confrontation with the White House. It is Washington operating in its default mode: never say directly what you can accomplish indirectly through a budget process footnote. The footnote, in this case, might be the most important line in the entire defense bill.

The bipartisan cover being constructed in the appropriations process is real, but it is also fragile. The moment the White House decides the budget footnote is a political challenge, the Republicans will fold. What should happen — a direct, public legislative debate about whether DOGE belongs anywhere near national defense — will probably not happen. Washington rarely chooses courage when procedural cover is available.

Locking down the lines before they disappear

The specific mechanism that House Appropriators are pursuing in the FY2027 bill is a tightening of reprogramming thresholds — the dollar amounts above which the Pentagon must notify or seek approval from Congressional defense committees before moving money between accounts. Current thresholds were set in an era when the executive branch was not systematically attempting to reshape defense structures without explicit legislative authorization.

The proposed changes would, in practical terms, require the Hegseth Pentagon to come to Congress for approval of any significant structural shift in how defense dollars are allocated — including, presumably, the continued consolidation of functions previously performed by civilian employees into contractor or automated systems. This is oversight doing what oversight is supposed to do: slowing the pace of irreversible change enough to allow democratic deliberation to occur.

The FY2027 bill as a referendum on DOGE doctrine

The National Defense Authorization Act and the accompanying appropriations bill are, in many years, largely technical documents — the legislative expression of incremental adjustments to an established strategic posture. The FY2027 cycle is different. It is, in effect, a referendum on whether DOGE doctrine — fast, disruptive, ideologically driven restructuring — is compatible with the governance of a military organization that cannot tolerate the kind of operational failure that disruption occasionally produces.

The answer that emerges from Capitol Hill over the next six months will shape American military policy for a generation. If Congress succeeds in imposing meaningful constraints on Pentagon reprogramming and workforce reduction, it will have asserted democratic accountability over an administration that has shown remarkable willingness to test its limits. If it fails, the DOGE transformation of the Pentagon will continue at pace — with consequences that the GAO is already beginning to document.

I will not pretend to know how the FY2027 battle ends. Washington is unpredictable, and political coalitions shift. What I know is this: the stakes are not abstract. They are measured in the readiness of the units that would be sent to defend a NATO ally, in the reliability of the logistics chain supplying Ukraine, and in the credibility of American power in a world that is watching very carefully to see whether the Pentagon can hold its shape under this level of internal pressure.

Europe builds while America restructures

The contrast is stark. As the United States debates whether to cut $350 billion from its defense budget over five years, European NATO allies are in the middle of the largest sustained defense investment surge since the Cold War. Germany has committed to spending $150 billion per year by 2029 — a number that would have been considered science fiction in Berlin as recently as 2021. Poland is at 4.3% of GDP. The Baltic states are above 3.5%.

The Europeans are not doing this because they suddenly love military spending. They are doing it because Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 made the cost of under-investment catastrophically clear, and because American pressure — from Barack Obama through Donald Trump, sustained across administrations — finally reached a tipping point. The result is an alliance that is, on paper, stronger than it has been in decades. The question is whether the American anchor of that alliance is simultaneously being undermined by the very efficiency ideology that the White House is celebrating.

The SIPRI numbers and what they reveal

According to SIPRI data referenced in the run-up to the Ankara summit, the 32 NATO allies collectively account for approximately 55% of global military spending — roughly $1,600 billion per year. The United States alone accounts for a disproportionate share of that figure, but the gap is narrowing as European spending rises. This is, in the abstract, exactly the burden-sharing outcome that American strategic doctrine has sought for three decades.

But burden-sharing works only if both sides are building capability, not just spending money. If the European partners are investing in systems, training, and industrial capacity while the American side is simultaneously cutting the civilian infrastructure that makes it possible to deploy, sustain, and support military operations at scale, then the arithmetic of burden-sharing becomes a dangerous illusion. The dollars look right. The operational reality may not be.

There is something almost ironic about watching Europe finally meet its NATO spending commitments — a diplomatic achievement decades in the making — at precisely the moment when the American institutional capacity to absorb and act on that partnership is being systematically reduced. The alliance is becoming more balanced just as the anchor is wobbling.

The battlefield the Pentagon is cutting toward, not preparing for

The Ukraine war has made one strategic truth undeniable: drone warfare is no longer an adjunct to conventional military operations. It is a primary domain of conflict. Ukrainian forces and Russian forces both now expend more kinetic effort through unmanned systems than through any other platform category. The industrial capacity to produce, field, and counter drones at scale is as important as the capacity to manufacture tanks or artillery shells.

The United States has recognized this — the Anduril contract, the Replicator initiative, the surge in autonomous systems investment all reflect a serious strategic adaptation. But this adaptation requires exactly the kind of civilian technical workforce that DOGE has been cutting. The program officers, test engineers, and acquisition specialists who manage autonomous systems programs are not interchangeable with the ones who managed Cold War-era platforms. Their departure creates specific, identifiable gaps in the development pipeline for the very technologies the Pentagon says it needs most.

The gap between strategy and execution

The Pentagon's public strategic documents speak of AI-enabled warfare, autonomous systems at scale, and multi-domain operations as the future of American military power. Those documents are, in many respects, analytically correct. The problem is that between strategic vision and operational capability lies an execution chain that depends on human beings with specific expertise, institutional relationships, and clearance portfolios that take years to build.

The GAO report found that in several technology acquisition offices, the civilian staff reductions had specifically affected personnel responsible for emerging technology programs — not legacy platform sustainment. This is the scenario where the efficiency cuts do the most damage: eliminating the people tasked with building the future in the name of reducing the cost of the present.

The Pentagon cannot have it both ways. It cannot simultaneously declare autonomous systems and AI-enabled warfare the core of its future strategy while cutting the civilian workforce responsible for acquiring, testing, and fielding those systems. At some point, the contradiction becomes a capability crisis. The GAO is telling us that point may already be arriving.

The threat environment has not read the efficiency memo

Russia is rebuilding its defense industrial base at a pace that most Western analysts underestimated eighteen months ago. North Korea's provision of artillery shells and ballistic missiles to Russian forces has materially extended Moscow's capacity to sustain offensive operations in Ukraine. China is conducting the largest peacetime naval expansion in modern history. Iran continues to supply drone technology that has killed Ukrainian soldiers and threatened Israeli civilians.

The security environment that will greet the United States on the other side of the DOGE restructuring is not a more peaceful world that rewards institutional efficiency. It is a world in which American deterrence credibility — the foundation of the entire post-Cold War security architecture — rests on the ability to project force rapidly, sustain it logistically, and back it with an industrial base that can reload. Each of those requirements depends, directly and specifically, on the institutional capacity that DOGE is currently reducing.

The institutional damage is cumulative and slow to reverse

Rebuilding a federal civilian workforce after a mass reduction is not like rehiring at a startup. Clearances take twelve to eighteen months to process at the highest levels. Institutional knowledge, once lost, rebuilds over five to ten years. Acquisition programs that stall due to workforce gaps do not simply resume when the workforce is restored — they restart, losing time, funding, and momentum in ways that cascade through delivery timelines measured in billions of dollars and years of strategic risk.

The National Taxpayers Union analysis of the current defense appropriations environment noted that the long-term cost of workforce disruption — in delayed programs, increased contractor dependency, and lost economies of scale in institutional expertise — may substantially exceed the short-term savings from the reductions. This is not a progressive argument against efficiency. It is a conservative argument for not destroying long-term value in pursuit of short-term optics.

I am not arguing for a bloated, unreformed Pentagon. I am arguing against the specific kind of damage that comes from cutting institutional capacity with an axe when the situation calls for a scalpel. The GAO is telling us the axe is being used. The question is whether anyone in power is listening before the wounds become permanent.

The chain from Washington to the front line

The logistical chain connecting Congressional authorizations to Ukrainian soldiers passes through dozens of Pentagon contract offices, DCMA oversight teams, and Defense Logistics Agency nodes — each of which depends on civilian staff to function. When those staff positions disappear faster than they can be backfilled, the chain does not break cleanly. It frays. Deliveries slow. Invoices go unprocessed. Inspection milestones slip. The result is a security assistance program that is authorized on paper but delayed in reality.

Ukraine's survival is not hypothetical. It is daily. Every week of delay in ammunition delivery represents real operational choices made by Ukrainian commanders about where to defend and where to yield. The political debate in Washington about DOGE efficiency has a direct translation on the ground east of Kharkiv. That translation deserves to be named explicitly, not buried in a budget footnote.

I have said this before and I will say it again: the defense of Ukraine is not a favor we do for Zelensky. It is an investment in the security architecture that protects everything the West has built since 1945. When DOGE cuts compromise the execution of that support, the cost is measured not in dollars but in territory, in lives, and in the credibility of Western resolve. That credibility, once spent, is not recovered on a spreadsheet.

Private capital and public accountability in defense

The Anduril model — and the broader shift toward venture-backed defense startups as primary suppliers — raises a democratic accountability question that Washington has not yet seriously engaged. Traditional defense contractors operate under a procurement framework that, for all its inefficiencies, was explicitly designed to protect the public interest: competitive bidding requirements, audit rights, congressional notification for major contract changes, inspector general oversight.

New contracting vehicles — Other Transaction Agreements, Commercial Solutions Openings, various other streamlined acquisition pathways — were created to allow the Pentagon to move at commercial speed. They have done that. What they have also done is create substantial opacity in how significant portions of the defense budget are now being spent. When $12.3 billion in VC flows into defense startups that are then awarded OTA contracts, the public visibility into how that money is performing is materially lower than under traditional procurement.

The transparency debt accumulates

The GAO and the Congressional Budget Office have both flagged the expanding use of streamlined acquisition pathways as a transparency risk. The risk is not hypothetical: several OTA-awarded programs that have encountered cost or performance issues have done so outside the visibility of the normal oversight infrastructure, reaching crisis points before Congressional defense committees were aware there was a problem.

As the Pentagon simultaneously reduces its civilian oversight workforce and expands its use of streamlined contracting vehicles that require less oversight, the accountability gap compounds. This is not a left-wing critique of defense spending. It is the same argument that conservative fiscal watchdogs make when they demand that every dollar of government spending be traceable, auditable, and defensible before the public. In defense, that standard should be higher, not lower, because the stakes are higher.

The efficiency revolution at the Pentagon is real, and parts of it are genuinely needed. But efficiency without accountability is not reform — it is the abdication of the public trust that justifies military spending in the first place. The GAO is doing its job. Congress must do its job. And the rest of us must insist that the world's most powerful military remains answerable to the democracy it exists to defend.

The irreducible obligation of the state

There are functions of government that can be outsourced, streamlined, and disrupted. The post office can experiment with private partnerships. The IRS can adopt commercial software platforms. Federal real estate can be consolidated. These are legitimate areas of reform where efficiency ideology has genuine application. National defense is categorically different — not because it is sacred, but because the cost of failure is not a delayed package or a software bug. It is a security vacuum that adversaries fill, sometimes within weeks.

The GAO report of June 23, 2026 is a measured, bureaucratic document. It does not use the language of crisis. It uses the language of risk: "capability gaps," "program delays," "workforce continuity concerns." But behind that language is a warning that deserves to be heard at the highest levels: DOGE is testing the institutional resilience of the American military at a moment when the security environment demands that resilience be at its peak, not its nadir.

The test that is already underway

The NATO Ankara summit will produce commitments, photographs, and press releases. Secretary-General Rutte will announce contracts worth tens of billions. Trump will claim credit for European burden-sharing. Zelensky will press the case for Ukraine's path to membership. All of this will happen against the backdrop of a Pentagon that is, simultaneously, being restructured by an efficiency project that the GAO has now formally identified as producing operational risk. The summit is the public face of Western resolve. The GAO report is the private reality. The gap between them is where the danger lives.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist

Editorial stance

I am not a journalist but a columnist and analyst. My expertise lies in observing and analysing the geopolitical, economic and strategic dynamics that shape our world. My work is to take political strategies apart, to understand global economic movements, to put the decisions of international actors in context and to offer analytical perspectives on the changes that are redefining our societies.

I do not claim the cold objectivity of traditional journalism, which stops at reporting facts. I claim analytical clarity, rigorous interpretation and a deep understanding of the complex issues that concern us all. My role is to give meaning to the facts, to place them in their historical and strategic context, and to offer a critical reading of events.

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The analyses, interpretations and perspectives in the analytical sections of this article are a critical, contextual synthesis based on the information available, the trends observed and the expert comments cited in the sources consulted.

My role is to interpret these facts, to set them in the context of today's geopolitical and economic dynamics, and to give them a coherent meaning within the larger story of the changes shaping our time. These analyses reflect expertise built through continuous observation of international affairs and an understanding of the strategic mechanisms that drive global actors.

This article describes a documented state of affairs on its publication date, not a prediction: later developments may shift its outlook. No update is promised in advance; when an article is corrected or completed, the change is dated in the text.