Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” takes from the poor and gives to the rich, says guest columnist Gayle Rose
Some betrayals arrive quietly, in the dead of night, with no debate and no discussion. This happened last week, when the House of Representatives passed a bill that would increase the national deficit by $4 trillion over the next decade — a staggering amount, especially considering that the GOP once championed fiscal conservatism.
But the real scandal lies in the nature of that spending: About $1 trillion in tax cuts flowing to those earning over $500,000 a year, offset by $1 trillion in cuts to Medicaid and the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program or SNAP. This is not a budget. It is a direct transfer from people who cannot afford food and medical care to those who take these essentials for granted. It is, by every measure, one of the most reckless and morally repugnant domestic policies of our lifetime.
In truth, it’s a declaration that the hunger of children and the health of the vulnerable are acceptable costs for shielding concentrated wealth. It exposes a brutal calculation: give it to the wealthy, abandon the rest.
The social safety net in the United States has consistently faced challenges; however, there have been times in our history when we united in our concern for those living in poverty. SNAP, originally known as food stamps, was created during the Great Depression to address two urgent needs: alleviating hunger and stabilizing agriculture. In 1964, the Food Stamp Act formalized its mission within the Department of Agriculture, grounding it in both compassion and economic purpose.
Today, over 42 million Americans rely on SNAP, including more than 17 million children. In a country where nearly one in five children faces food insecurity, cutting this program signifies a breach of something deeper than policy. It is a moral failure.
The same holds true for Medicaid, established in 1965 as part of the Great Society’s commitment to support vulnerable populations. Today, it covers 75 million individuals, including nearly half of all births in the United States.
These proposed cuts would leave an estimated 14 million Americans without health insurance, according to the Congressional Budget Office. That means mothers without prenatal care. Elders without home health aides. People with disabilities losing the services that enable them to live with dignity. It means sickness deepening into suffering, and sometimes, even death.
The bill includes work reporting requirements set to begin in 2026, despite overwhelming evidence that these policies do not increase employment. Most people on Medicaid who can work are already employed. Rather than improving outcomes, these requirements create burdensome paperwork and red tape, leading eligible individuals to lose coverage through no fault of their own. The cruelty lies not only in the cuts but also in the bureaucratic barriers that make accessing care more difficult.
These programs nourish the hungry and provide vital healthcare that strengthens communities, stabilizes families, and supports local economies. For every dollar invested in SNAP and Medicaid, approximately two dollars in economic activity is generated. They are not mere handouts; they are lifelines, and they are effective.
Rural America will face difficulties due to this bill. SNAP participation is actually higher in rural areas, where 16% of the population depends on the program, compared to 13% in urban regions. Cuts to Medicaid would greatly worsen this hardship.
Rural safety net hospitals, which serve a disproportionate share of low-income patients and are already facing a closure crisis, would be pushed to the brink. The Center for American Progress reports that the proposed cuts from House Republicans would jeopardize nearly 200 rural hospitals in Medicaid expansion states. The loss of Medicaid support threatens to deny entire regions critical care.
Recent research ranks poverty as the fourth leading cause of death in the United States, just behind heart disease, cancer, and smoking. Think about that. Poverty kills. These proposed cuts would only entrench it further.
The authors of this budget understand the consequences. They know that this budget means children going to bed hungry and lacking essential medicines, mothers skipping meals, and elders choosing between groceries and insulin. They know. And they vote anyway.
They talk about financial efficiency, but what they offer is moral bankruptcy.
A budget can reveal many things: priorities, values, and ambitions. It also reveals character. When we look closely at this one, we see a form of social violence disguised as governance. A turning away. A coldness settles in when power no longer feels accountable to suffering.
I know the faces behind the statistics. I’ve helped organize thousands of food baskets through Team Max. I’ve stood beside women and children through Catholic Charities, who bear the quiet weight of hunger and chronic illness with remarkable dignity. This is more than a theory to me; it’s my life’s work. And it becomes even more challenging when the federal government neglects its responsibilities.
We cannot normalize this.
If we allow this to go unchecked, if we stay silent or passive, it reflects more than who we are. It makes us complicit. We claim that hunger is acceptable collateral. That children’s lives are reduced to numbers on a ledger. That the arc of our moral imagination no longer bends toward justice but toward indifference.
I write this as a citizen and a mother who has witnessed the silent arithmetic of hunger and the harsh consequences of neglect. I have observed volunteers delivering food to families who never anticipated needing it. I have noticed the shame that poverty breeds and the resilience it requires to endure. And I have also seen how quickly dignity can disappear when we turn away from one another.
I believe we are better than this. Or at least, we can be.
The next chapter of our common life will be written by what we choose to accept and what we refuse to ignore.
America must not become more efficient in its cruelty. It must renew its commitment to the poor among us, not just in words, but in action.
We cannot balance our books on empty stomachs. We cannot claim greatness while stealing basic care. We cannot move forward if we leave our sick and hungry behind.
