In his 1935 State of the Union address, President Franklin D. Roosevelt made it clear that “the federal government must and shall quit this business of relief.”
At that time, no one foresaw that 90 years later, “quitting that relief” would come about through political gridlock, resulting in what may become the most extended federal government shutdown in history.
Here we are. Government relief — at least food relief — is grinding to a halt, eliciting panic.
Another line in FDR’s speech that day illuminates why. “To dole out relief is like a narcotic, a subtle destroyer of the human spirit.”
He nailed it. The narcotic of government relief has not only persisted, but its potency and quantity have increased by more than 10-fold in the number of relief programs and dollars transferred to individuals since the New Deal. Thus, it shouldn’t surprise us that as federal food programs come to a halt, much of America fears food insecurity will be followed by actual hunger.
Prolonged dependence on a narcotic can make you believe you’ll die without it.
I’m not a heartless conservative who wants everyone to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. I’ve spent the last 25 years fighting poverty. Last year, our small mission in Missouri provided 38,000 pounds of food for people. The difference is that most of it was earned by people who can do at least some work for the food they need. Our clients — and those of our national network of like-minded missions and ministries — won’t experience the same panic and withdrawal when the doors close on programs such as the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program and The Emergency Food Assistance Program.
I’ve spent decades watching the lure of federal relief draw able, capable people deeper into dependent poverty. Indeed, the subtly destructive narcotic of perpetual relief has done a lot of harm, not the least of which is the dismal, 70-year deterioration in male labor force participation.
Yet, I can’t help but see opportunity in this brief but historic moment. It’s a chance for the good work of civil society to restore dignity and agency to millions of people who may turn to other sources of help.
That said, here’s how we could miss it. As the panic intensifies, calls for private philanthropy to fill the gap are mounting. The gap we’re about to experience should not be filled with the same relief that has failed miserably to deliver on the promise of “solving hunger” (as seen so frequently on food bank websites).
Instead, civil society has the opportunity to lead the nation into a renewed era of charity focused less on endless crisis relief and more on rehabilitation and development — forms of charity that require effort from their recipients, which has proven to help people escape the grip of poverty far more effectively.
Propping up SNAP and TEFAP through private dollars makes no sense as long as the receiving organizations continue to distribute under the same restrictive program policies. TEFAP (which provides 20 percent of U.S. government food relief) is distributed by food banks with rules that restrict distributors from establishing income thresholds below 185 percent of the poverty level.
Sadly, it ends up a moot point because the rule is rendered useless by eligibility policies, such as in Oregon: “Recipient agencies must accept self-declaration.” No wonder so many of these food banks’ TEFAP days operate as drive-throughs full of long lines of idling vehicles. Quickly stuffing food in a trunk is the most efficient method when you can’t ask recipients any questions.
That inanity is compounded by TEFAP regulations that further limit distributors’ freedom to judge eligibility, forcing them to distribute food to recipients already receiving other forms of food assistance. Where most of us would frown on that “double-dipping,” TEFAP doubles down by tying eligibility to pre-existing dependency on different programs. It’s called categorical eligibility: a person already enrolled in SNAP, Medicaid, Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, or other food commodity programs automatically qualifies for TEFAP.
As if that isn’t enough, the pinnacle of policy that advances the “subtle destruction of the human spirit” is a regulation that perversely incentivizes idleness. Case in point: TEFAP food banks are prohibited from requesting proof that recipients are actively seeking employment. Even expectations of recipients to volunteer aren’t allowed.
Conversely, for two decades, I’ve seen the good of a different charity — one that calls for contributions from people who are poor but not powerless. One man turned down government handouts and decided to eat at our mission instead. He ate with us once, then earned his meals and clothing through work in our Worth Shop, where he regained his dignity and sense of agency. He took the initiative to apply to our long-term residential recovery program, completed work-training, landed a full-time job, and graduated with his own place to live. In short, we’re not a mission that replicates government relief; we offer something completely different.
Above the clamor of cries for food rescue, that’s my call to private philanthropy today: Offer something completely different. Don’t step up and fill the gap of a government shutdown only to support what’s failed and broken. Demand outcomes. Ensure investigation. Promote effort. Fund the organizations willing to reckon with and acknowledge John D. Rockefeller’s words: “Charity is injurious unless it helps the recipient become independent of it.”
Maybe you’ll play a pivotal role in leading America away from debilitating relief toward a new day in which millions of Americans awaken from a government-induced slumber to, instead, live out vibrant, flourishing lives.
