States have never before had to pay for food aid. Now they might have to choose between that and everything else.
A federal report placing SNAP's payment error rate at 10.6% has ignited a dispute that cuts to the heart of how a society defines failure in its safety nets. The Trump administration frames the figure as evidence of fraud draining billions meant for the hungry, while advocates and state officials argue that most errors are the predictable byproduct of complex rules and human circumstance — not deliberate deception. New cost-sharing penalties set to take effect in late 2027 will force states to absorb up to $9 billion in additional costs, pressing governors toward choices that may quietly remove millions of low-income families from the program. What began as a statistical threshold has become a referendum on who bears responsibility when a system built to feed people fails to do so cleanly.
- The USDA's 10.6% payment error rate — nearly double the congressional threshold — has given the Trump administration a headline number it is using to justify sweeping cuts to a program feeding 37 million people.
- Experts warn the number is being misread: actual SNAP fraud costs roughly $1 billion a year, while the remaining errors stem largely from caseworker mistakes, outdated systems, and households navigating rules too complex to follow perfectly.
- A tiered penalty structure in the 2025 budget law will require states with high error rates to fund up to 15% of benefit costs starting October 2027 — a burden the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities estimates could reach $9 billion nationally.
- Only 10 states currently meet the 6% error threshold, and some are already redirecting staff away from fraud prevention toward the quality-control metrics that will determine their financial liability.
- State human services agencies are lobbying for a two-year delay, with 11% of SNAP administrators identifying full program withdrawal as a real possibility if penalties take effect without relief.
- The millions of children and families who depend on food assistance remain largely absent from the policy debate even as the machinery of implementation moves steadily forward.
On June 24, the Department of Agriculture reported that 10.6% of SNAP payments in fiscal year 2025 contained errors — nearly double the 6% threshold Congress considers acceptable, and equivalent to more than $10 billion in improper payments. The Trump administration has used the figure as evidence of widespread fraud. Advocates say that framing distorts the reality of how errors actually occur.
The distinction matters enormously. USDA's error rate captures any instance of over- or under-payment, regardless of intent — a family that forgets to report a job change, a caseworker who processes a form with a missing address. Actual fraud, involving deliberate deception like EBT card skimming or benefit trafficking, costs roughly $1 billion annually. A May USDA report flagged an additional $3 billion in potentially fraudulent activity, but described those findings as possible rather than confirmed. "We should not confuse payment errors with fraud," said Gina Plata-Nino of the Food Research & Action Center. "Payment errors often involve complicated rules, changing work hours, missing paperwork, outdated systems or agency mistakes."
The financial consequences arriving in states may ultimately matter more than the definitional debate. Under the 2025 budget law, states exceeding the 6% error threshold will begin sharing benefit costs in October 2027 under a steep tiered structure — up to 15% of costs for states above 10%. Only 10 states currently meet the threshold. The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities estimates the collective burden could reach $9 billion. Some states are already pulling staff away from fraud prevention to focus on the quality-control metrics that will determine their penalties.
The National Governors Association is pressing Congress for a two-year delay. Without it, states face an arithmetic with no good answers: absorb massive new costs, cut food assistance, or exit the program entirely. An APHSA survey found that 11% of state SNAP agencies identified withdrawal as a real risk. Meanwhile, enrollment has already fallen by nearly 5 million people over the past year, driven partly by new work requirements. The human consequences — reduced food security, impacts on children's health and school performance — remain largely unspoken in the policy debate as implementation moves forward.
On June 24, the Department of Agriculture released a number that has set off a chain reaction through state capitals and anti-hunger organizations across the country: 10.6% of SNAP payments contained errors in fiscal year 2025. That figure, nearly double the 6% threshold Congress established as acceptable, translates to more than $10 billion in improper payments flowing through the nation's food assistance program. The Trump administration has seized on this statistic as evidence of waste, fraud, and abuse draining billions from a system meant to feed low-income families. But the debate over what that number actually means—and what should be done about it—has exposed a fundamental disagreement about the nature of the problem itself.
The confusion starts with language. When the USDA reports a payment error rate, it is measuring any instance in which a household receives more or less in benefits than it should, regardless of intent. A family whose income changes because someone gets laid off, a recipient who forgets to report a job, a caseworker who processes paperwork with a missing address—all of these generate errors in the statistical sense. Actual fraud, by contrast, involves deliberate deception: someone skimming an EBT card, trafficking benefits for cash, using stolen account information. These are separate phenomena, though the Trump administration and some Republican lawmakers have used the payment error rate as shorthand for all forms of program waste. "Every dollar in this program is intended to help feed eligible individuals in need," said Rep. Tim Burchett of Tennessee during a House subcommittee hearing on the issue. "That's not where every dollar goes, not by a long shot."
Anti-hunger advocates and state administrators push back on this framing. Brian Jones, a SNAP quality control expert at the American Public Human Services Association, told CBS News that most payment errors are "mostly unintentional because the policy is very complex, and there are a lot of reporting requirements" that households may not understand. A 2024 Government Accountability Office report found that payment errors tend to stem from over- or under-payment issues, while describing food-stamp fraud as a separate matter. The actual cost of fraud—EBT card skimming, illegal benefit sales, and similar schemes—runs about $1 billion annually, according to earlier GAO data. A May USDA report flagged additional potential fraudulent activity, including dummy Social Security numbers and duplicate enrollments, that could account for roughly $3 billion in improper payments, though the agency described these as possible issues rather than confirmed fraud. "We should not confuse payment errors with fraud," said Gina Plata-Nino, SNAP director for the Food Research & Action Center, at the same hearing. "Fraud involves intentional wrongdoing—payment errors often involve complicated rules, changing work hours, missing paperwork, outdated systems or agency mistakes."
But the distinction between error and fraud may matter less than the financial consequences now bearing down on states. Under the 2025 "big, beautiful bill act," states whose SNAP programs exceed a 6% payment error rate will begin shouldering a portion of the program's costs starting in October 2027. The tiered penalty structure is steep: states with error rates between 6% and 8% must pay 5% of benefit costs; those between 8% and 10% pay 10%; those above 10% pay 15%. According to the most recent USDA data, only 10 states have error rates below 6%. South Dakota sits at the lowest with 2.5%; Alaska has the highest at 23%. The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities estimates that states could face an additional $9 billion in SNAP spending under these rules. "States have never before had to put up a share of the benefit costs," said Katie Bergh, a SNAP expert at CBPP, "and based on the 2025 data, almost half the states are facing a cost-sharing requirement that's going to cost them $100 million or more in the first year of implementation."
The financial pressure arrives as SNAP enrollment has already begun to contract. About 37 million people were enrolled as of March 2026, down nearly 5 million from a year earlier. The decline stems partly from new work requirements under the law that restrict benefits to three months every three years for able-bodied adults under 64 who do not work, volunteer, or participate in job training for at least 80 hours monthly. States now face an impossible arithmetic: reduce error rates quickly or absorb massive new costs. Some are responding by shifting staff away from fraud prevention to focus on the metrics that will determine their financial liability. "States are having to take folks off of their work on reducing, preventing or responding to fraud and move them over to the quality control side," said Alexis Kuznick, policy director for APHSA.
The National Governors Association and state human services agencies are lobbying Congress to delay the cost-sharing rules by two years, arguing that states need time to implement changes. Without that reprieve, many states will face difficult choices once the penalties take effect. "If an individual state can't pay its share, what happens then?" Kuznick asked. "Those are the sorts of things that we have not encountered yet." Some states may withdraw from the program entirely, according to an APHSA survey finding that 11% of state SNAP agencies identified withdrawal as a potential risk. Others may be forced to choose between funding law enforcement and education versus providing food assistance. The human cost of those choices—reduced food security for millions of low-income families, impacts on children's school performance and overall wellness—remains largely absent from the policy debate, even as the machinery of implementation moves forward.
Citações Notáveis
Payment errors often involve complicated rules, changing work hours, missing paperwork, outdated systems or agency mistakes—not intentional wrongdoing.— Gina Plata-Nino, SNAP director, Food Research & Action Center
States have never before had to put up a share of benefit costs, and almost half the states are facing a cost-sharing requirement that will cost them $100 million or more in the first year.— Katie Bergh, SNAP expert, Center on Budget and Policy Priorities
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
When the USDA says 10.6% of SNAP payments contain errors, what does that actually mean in practice? Is someone stealing money?
Not necessarily. An error just means someone got the wrong amount—too much or too little. It could be because their job situation changed and they didn't report it, or the caseworker made a paperwork mistake, or the system didn't catch an address change. Most of the time, nobody did anything wrong on purpose.
So the Trump administration is using the word "fraud" to describe something that's mostly just administrative mess?
That's the core disagreement. They're pointing to the 10.6% figure as evidence of waste and abuse. But actual fraud—someone deliberately stealing benefits or skimming a card—costs about $1 billion a year. The $10 billion error figure includes all the unintentional mistakes too.
Why does this distinction matter so much right now?
Because starting in late 2027, states have to pay a portion of SNAP costs if their error rates stay high. A state with a 10% error rate has to cover 15% of all benefit costs. That's billions of dollars states have never had to pay before.
What happens if a state can't afford that?
That's the question nobody has a clear answer to yet. They might have to cut other services, raise taxes, or—in the worst case—some states might just withdraw from the program entirely. Either way, millions of people lose food assistance.
And enrollment is already dropping?
Yes. It's down nearly 5 million people in the last year, partly because of new work requirements. So you have fewer people getting help, states facing massive new costs, and the whole system under pressure.