Whoever coined the phrase, "what's good for the goose is good for the gander," never witnessed the vast gender and racial disparities in America. This phrase may reflect an ideal, but not our reality. Research shows that racial attitudes have a profound impact on their support for public policies. For example, a Health Affairs study suggested "white people's racial resentment against Black people was correlated with consistent, substantial support for more burdensome policies (Haeder & Moynihan, 2023)." Their findings demonstrate "people's views about how state actions affect different groups… are important to their preferences." Their results confirmed what many in the black community already knew — that many white people are unwilling to support programs that they believe will mainly help Black people. When translated into policy, this anti-black prejudice results in less support for welfare programs. This includes the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), which has approximately 42 million beneficiaries.
Racist tropes that cast Black people as the primary beneficiaries of welfare programs, including food stamps, are misleading. According to a USDA report, 35% of participants are White, 26% are African American, 16% are Hispanic, 4% are Asian, slightly over 1% are Native American, and the race of 17% was "unknown." Given that 73% of SNAP recipients are non-Black, conversations about the topic shouldn't position them as the face of these programs. Likewise, only 1.1% of recipients of SNAP benefits are refugees, and "3.3% are other noncitizens." The claim that undocumented immigrants of color represent a strain on resources is rooted in the same type of falsehood, a legitimizing myth. Of course, we shouldn't hold our breath and wait for the "facts over feelings" crowd to acknowledge the truth, that millions of white people depend on these programs. Doing so would dissolve the bitter pill they've been avoiding.
But Americans should consider that when racism fuels resistance to the use of government-funded welfare programs, it harms Americans regardless of their racial, ethnic identity, or distinguishing characteristics. The perception that only Black people benefit, pumped into a social environment where racism is pervasive, has contributed to less support for SNAP benefits and welfare programs more broadly. People are online judging whether individuals who receive government assistance should use Dijon mustard, whether they should be able to buy a birthday cake, or a bag of potato chips — and these conversations are racialized more often than not. For instance, Michael Che, a star on "Saturday Night Live," shared that he's seen "a lotta racist videos celebrating mostly Black families not being able to buy groceries. There's a weird idea that since some people have taken advantage of welfare benefits in the hood, [that] nobody should receive help at all." There seems to be a concerted effort, particularly among the political right but not exclusive to that side, which frames Black people as undeserving of government assistance, despite them paying into the system through taxes. To racists, the color of their skin marks them as perpetual outsiders, undeserving of care, concern, let alone government assistance.
While the French Queen Marie Antoinette was rumored to say, "Let them eat cake," or "brioche," in response to the suffering of the lower class, it seems that many white Americans don't believe impoverished people deserve even that. Remember the months-long debate about using food stamps to purchase snack items? It's one of the many ways antiblackness has manifested in recent years, targeting Black people's use of public resources. The lack of empathy for Black people is not a coincidence in American society, nor should it be dismissed as simply teasing. As the Author Jason Stanley argued in his book, "How Fascism Works," President "Trump exploited the lengthy history of ranking Americans into a hierarchy of worth by race, the 'deserving' versus the 'undeserving." One of the dangers of fascist policies is "the particular way in which it dehumanizes segments of the population," Stanley wrote. By "excluding these groups," the "capacity for empathy among other citizens" is diminished, leading to the justification of inhumane treatment.
One example would be when Trump cited misinformation about Haitian refugees during a presidential debate. "In Springfield, they are eating the dogs," he claimed. While this was untrue, a high-ranking political official repeating the obscene narrative fanned the flames of racial animus. Last month, the administration revoked protective status for 348,187 Haitians, showing there are clear consequences to unchecked racist rhetoric. This us vs. them worldview fosters a scarcity mindset, an assumption that the success of other groups contributes to the downfall of the one to which they belong. In part, we have Ronald Reagan to thank for the racialized discussions about welfare in America. During his campaign, he popularized the "welfare queen" trope, suggesting the system was plagued by scores of Black women who didn't really need help, but were taking from the system anyway, committing fraud and abuse at taxpayers' expense. And these ideas are still present within our current system. For instance, Snowden and Graaf (2019) noted that psychological and other social science research established that disapproval of providing "welfare' to 'undeserving poor is closely aligned with racial bias."
Even before Ronald Reagan, America was a nation whose policies were deeply rooted in discussions about deservingness, as some white people conspired to deprive Black people of equal access to resources and opportunities. "An advisor to Nixon, Lee Atwater, explained this so-called 'Southern strategy' during a 1981 interview. "You start out in 1954 by saying, 'Nigger, nigger, nigger.' By 1968, you can't say 'nigger’ that hurts you, backfires. So, you say stuff like, uh, ‘forced busing states' rights. and all the stuff, and you cutting taxes, and all these things you're talking about are totally economic things, and a byproduct of them is blacks get hurt worse than whites… 'we want to cut this, is much more abstract than even the busing thing, uh, and a hell of a lot more abstract than 'Nigger, nigger." In the modern era, politicians don't have to use explicit racism to harm Black people. They can support policy positions that maintain or exacerbate racial disparities. Efforts to cut, reduce, or limit access to SNAP benefits, better known as food stamps, and slash access to Medicare and Medicaid programs that expand healthcare access to low-income Americans are prime examples.
Some argue that Black people shouldn't be the face of discussions about SNAP. Indeed, it seems unfair that they're portrayed as the primary beneficiaries when, in fact, they are not. But it's also dishonest to overlook the widespread poverty that persists in the black community out of frustration with that imagery. In New Orleans, a city comprised of predominantly Black people, they "earn significantly less than white New Orleanians." The poverty produced by chattel slavery and maintained throughout Jim Crow has persisted in the post-Civil Rights era. Data from 2018 showed Black "households earned about 1/3 of what white households earned on average." A 2022 USDA report revealed that while 7% of White households experienced food insecurity, 19.8% of Black households and 16.2% of Latinx households faced it, reflecting disparities in wealth, not work ethic. Those who overlook this context are attempting to justify racial inequality rather than to remedy it.
One in five Louisiana residents depends on SNAP. So, while Black people are often cast as a group where many have relied on government assistance, it's clear America's vast wealth gap also impacts citizens of every racial group. The minimum wage is $7.25 an hour in a state, which amounts to $290 a week before federal and state taxes are deducted. We have systemic problems of inequity that need to be addressed. Oxfam America noted that 39% of workers in the Bayou State make less than $15 an hour, with 58.1% of Black people falling into this category, overrepresented among underpaid workers. And while some claim that Black people are receiving too much government assistance, research suggests they're not receiving enough. Grummon and Taillie (2018) found that "for Black households, participation in SNAP did not alleviate…black-white disparities in dietary behaviours." Furthermore, "SNAP participation was generally not longitudinally associated with reduced purchases of unhealthy products regardless of race/ethnic group." In other words, there is no basis to claim that Black people are the main recipients, or that they are making less responsible nutritional decisions when they have access to SNAP benefits.
In a study titled "We Want to Eat and Be Healthy Just Like Everybody Else," researchers found that individuals developed coping strategies to adapt to food scarcity, such as "food budgeting and cooking skills, paired with different social infrastructures to meet food needs (Headrick et al., 2024)." They found that "historical and ongoing acts of disempowerment and disinvestment also hindered the advancement of nutrition equity." While many Americans depend on SNAP benefits to feed themselves and their family members, the perception that primarily Black people benefit has contributed to resistance. Racist tropes have been effective in shaping public attitudes about these programs. In a society where people are convinced resources are scarce, some believe that helping members of another group harms them. And that's unfortunate because this us vs. them thinking weakens the social safety net, causing more people to fall through the cracks. With the uncertainty of public resources during a federal government shutdown, citizens will need to depend upon one another, which is incredibly difficult in a society where Black people and other racial minorities are cast as perpetual outsiders. Despite what racist propaganda suggests, we are intrinsically tied to one another, and it's in our best interest to keep that in mind.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is republished with author's permission. Read more of Allison Gaines' work on Medium.