Look, folks, this latest government shutdown has pulled back the curtain on a ugly truth that’s been festering for years. With SNAP benefits hanging by a thread—partial payments dribbling out while the whole system teeters—it’s crystal clear just how many Americans are hooked on this federal handout machine. We’re talking millions staring down empty pantries because the spigot got turned off, even temporarily. And now, with threats to withhold full benefits until the shutdown mess gets sorted, the panic is real.
🚨Don’t believe anyone spreading the lie that Trump paused SNAP and Medicaid benefits for Americans pic.twitter.com/uZrDJn3qUW
— Libs of TikTok (@libsoftiktok) January 28, 2025
It’s a wake-up call: We’ve built a monster that’s devouring taxpayer dollars and sapping self-reliance. Time to dig into the guts of SNAP, from its dusty origins to the explosive growth under Obama and Biden that turned a modest program into a bloated beast.
Roots in the Depression: A Temporary Fix That Stuck Around
SNAP didn’t start as some grand socialist scheme—it kicked off in 1939 as a quick-and-dirty way to offload farm surpluses during the Great Depression. Back then, it was called the Food Stamp Program, and folks bought orange stamps for regular food and got blue ones free for extras. It helped a few million, but wrapped up in 1943 once the economy perked up and unemployment dropped.
Fast-forward to the 1960s, when the bleeding hearts in Washington decided we needed it back. A pilot program launched in 1961 under Kennedy, hitting 380,000 people by 1964. That year, Johnson signed the Food Stamp Act, making it permanent with state-run plans and income caps. By the 1970s, it exploded nationwide, reaching 15 million in 1974. They ditched the buy-in requirement in 1979, basing eligibility on the poverty line, and added bells like outreach and fast-tracked service. Participation climbed to 18.5 million in 1976 and 22.4 million by 1981.
The 1980s and 1990s brought tweaks—gross income tests, work requirements, and electronic cards to cut fraud from 4 percent down to 1 percent by the early 2000s. It peaked at 27.5 million in 1994, then welfare reform in 1996 slapped time limits on able-bodied adults without kids and booted most immigrants. But by 2002, they started easing back, restoring some eligibility and simplifying rules. It was supposed to be a safety net, not a hammock. Then came the real bloat.
Obama’s Recession Rocket: Enrollment and Spending Skyrocket
Enter 2009, with the economy in the tank from the Great Recession. Obama takes office, and SNAP goes into overdrive. Average monthly participation jumped from 28.2 million in 2008 to 33.5 million in 2009—a 19 percent spike in one year. It kept climbing: 40.3 million in 2010, 44.7 million in 2011, 46.6 million in 2012, and hit a peak of 47.6 million in 2013. That’s a near-doubling from pre-Obama levels, folks. By the time he left in 2017, it was still at 42.3 million—way up from where he started.
Spending? Buckle up. Benefits costs ballooned from $34.6 billion in 2008 to $50.4 billion in 2009, then $64.7 billion in 2010, $71.8 billion in 2011, $74.6 billion in 2012, and topped out at $76.1 billion in 2013. Even as the economy supposedly recovered, it only dipped to $63.7 billion by 2017. They pumped it with temporary boosts in 2009, jacking up benefits during the downturn. Sure, the recession hit hard, but this wasn’t just catching folks falling—it was building a permanent underclass dependent on Uncle Sam. Work waivers got handed out like candy, and states gamed the system to qualify more people. America First means Americans working, not waiting for the next EBT load.
Biden’s Benefit Bonanza: Costs Explode Even as Enrollment Holds Steady
Flash to 2021, Biden’s in charge, and the pandemic’s still raging. Participation hovered around 41.6 million that year—up a bit from the 39.9 million in 2020—but the real kicker was the cash. Benefits spending rocketed to $107.9 billion in 2021, then $113.9 billion in 2022. That’s a 46 percent leap from 2020’s $74.2 billion, even as the economy reopened.
How? They “reevaluated” the Thrifty Food Plan in August 2021, hiking maximum benefits by 21 percent starting October that year. It was sold as updating for healthier diets, but it juiced average payouts big time. Spending stayed sky-high at $107 billion in 2023, only dropping to $93.7 billion in 2024 as some pandemic extras expired. Participation ticked up to 42.2 million in 2023 before settling at 41.7 million in 2024. Not the massive enrollment surge like under Obama, but the per-person handouts got fatter, costing taxpayers a fortune. And with food prices climbing, it locked even more folks into the cycle.
Shutdown Shenanigans: The Dependency Exposed
Now, here we are in November 2025, with the shutdown dragging into its whatever-th day, and SNAP’s in the crosshairs. The administration’s restarting benefits, but only half the usual amount—leaving millions scrambling. Threats to hold off full payments until the Democrats cave have food banks mobilizing and states like California stepping in to fill gaps. Judges ordered payments to resume, but compliance? Spotty at best. Republicans blocked a push to restore full benefits pronto, while the White House scrambles with talking points to contain the fallout. It’s chaos, revealing just how fragile this house of cards is. One hiccup in Washington, and the whole entitlement empire wobbles.
President Trump points out how SNAP has now ballooned to $47B.
He says anybody who wanted it got it.
SNAP is a huge scam. Cancel it.pic.twitter.com/ZDDDi8UY7U
— Paul A. Szypula 🇺🇸 (@Bubblebathgirl) November 5, 2025
Time to Snap Out of It: Reform or Bust
This shutdown mess isn’t just a blip—it’s a glaring spotlight on decades of expansion that’s turned SNAP from Depression-era relief into a trillion-dollar trap. Obama supersized it during the recession, Biden supersized the checks during the pandemic, and now we’re all paying the price. America First demands we prioritize jobs over handouts, work over welfare. Cut the waivers, enforce time limits, and get able-bodied folks back in the game. Otherwise, the next shutdown—or recession—will hit even harder. We’ve seen the revelations; now let’s act on them before the whole system collapses under its own weight.
