From go-getters to goat-getters, Minneapolis city employees recently learned that when morale is low, the solution isn’t accountability, leadership, or even a half-decent pep talk. No, the answer—according to a well-paid bureaucratic brain trust—is goats. Actual, living goats. Therapy goats, to be precise.
Yes, really.
In an email that could only have been composed by someone insulated from reality by layers of government employment, workers were invited to participate in a “healing circle” featuring goats to help address sagging morale. The implication was clear: if you’re stressed, burned out, or wondering whether your city is spiraling into dysfunction, perhaps petting a farm animal in a circle will make everything better.
🚨 BREAKING: Minneapolis City Attorney’s Office emailed staff inviting them to a “healing circle” with “therapy goats.”
While Democrats fan the flames against ICE agents. City staff are being offered quiet reflection time with goats.
This is not parody. This is Minneapolis. pic.twitter.com/pGpWbKynXN
— Dustin Grage (@GrageDustin) January 15, 2026
Naturally, the internet reacted exactly as you’d expect.
Where, many asked, are PETA and the SPCA when municipal leadership decides livestock should be hauled in as emotional support props for office workers? If goats could talk, one suspects they’d have a few complaints of their own—starting with being dragged into the middle of an urban morale crisis they didn’t create.
Commenters wasted no time connecting the dots. This wasn’t viewed as an isolated HR gimmick, but as another layer in the growing onion of Minnesota absurdity. When basic governance falters, when crime rises, when public confidence erodes, the response is not reform or discipline—it’s vibes. Preferably fuzzy ones.
These are adults running our government. They don’t get to have therapy circle time with goats during work hours. Especially when the city is in complete chaos, riots, fires etc. It should be all hands on deck for work.
— Rolay (@2nrvus) January 16, 2026
One particularly pointed remark suggested that employees should be shepherded back to their cubicles to do the jobs taxpayers are paying them to do, not herded into petting sessions with barnyard animals. Another quipped that we’ve heard of “barn burners,” but this was something else entirely—bureaucratic performance art masquerading as leadership.
The most cutting observation, though, referenced the late Scott Adams, who famously described a societal condition in which institutions respond to serious problems with increasingly unserious solutions. Many believe that phrase perfectly captures what’s unfolding here. When systems lose the ability to correct themselves, they compensate with symbolism, therapy language, and ritualized nonsense.
Good Lord!🙄 The Snowflake Safe Space is back…
Break out the coloring books, play dough, and fidget spinners, ummm… and the therapy goats! pic.twitter.com/Q1RpsB3BkI
— Imperfect Believer (@Imperfectblever) January 16, 2026
And that’s what the goats represent. Not kindness. Not innovation. Not even creativity. They represent an institution that has confused comfort with competence, feelings with function, and spectacle with solutions.
Low morale doesn’t come from a lack of goats. It comes from mismanagement, ideological overreach, public backlash, and a growing sense that no one is steering the ship. You can bring in all the livestock you want, but until leadership confronts reality, the problems will remain—long after the goats are loaded back onto the trailer.
At this rate, “Land of 10,000 Lakes” may need a rebrand. Something more fitting. Perhaps “The State of Perpetual Therapy,” or “Where Serious Problems Meet Silly Solutions.”
The late, great @ScottAdamsSays had a term for this.
He called it the “Parody Inversion Point.”
It’s that point where parody and reality sufficiently merge that one can no longer distinguish the two.
— IT Guy (@ITGuy1959) January 16, 2026
Either way, one thing is certain: if your government needs goats to get through the workday, the problem isn’t morale.
It’s leadership.
