The
national
debt has passed $40 trillion -
that is $40,000,000,000,000,
a number with more zeroes than
most of us can comfortably count.
The
Congressional Budget Office
projects a federal deficit of $1.9
trillion this year. We will spend
more than $1 trillion simply
paying
interest on the debt - money that
cannot be spent repairing bridges,
educating children, housing
families, or providing health
care.
The
numbers are sobering. But whenever
politicians start hyperventilating
about debt, Black folks had better hold on
to our wallets.
Debt
matters. Deficits matter. But they do not
seem to matter equally. The
deficit hawks are strangely silent when
Congress passes tax cuts
tilted toward corporations and wealthy
people. They misplace their
calculators when the Pentagon wants billions
for weapons it cannot
adequately account for. They rarely ask
whether subsidies to
profitable corporations are affordable. But
mention food assistance,
Medicaid, Head Start, or affordable housing,
and suddenly the sky is
falling.
The
CBO estimates that the 2025 reconciliation
law and related
debt-service costs will add $4.7 trillion to
projected deficits. Yet
some of the lawmakers who supported it now
say “tough choices”
must be made. Their tough choices almost
always require sacrifice
from somebody else.
We
ought to ask three questions: Why did we
borrow? Who benefited? And
who will be forced to pay?
The
government borrows by selling Treasury
bills, notes, and bonds to
individuals, banks, pension funds, the
Federal Reserve, and domestic
and foreign investors. The danger is not
that somebody suddenly
presents America with a $40 trillion bill,
but that refinancing the
debt becomes increasingly expensive and
interest payments crowd out
other priorities.
Borrowing
is not automatically bad. A government may
appropriately borrow
during a recession, war, or public health
emergency. It may borrow to
modernize transportation, strengthen
schools, expand broadband, or
make investments that increase future
productivity. Debt used to
build something can generate growth that
helps repay it.
But
borrowing to finance tax giveaways is
another matter. Borrowing while
refusing to collect taxes already owed is
another matter. Borrowing
because politically connected corporations
treat the Treasury like
their private ATM is another matter.
Borrowing for this President’s
vanity projects is something else again.
The
Freedom 250 Grand Prix did not create our
$40 trillion debt, but it
illustrates the hypocrisy of people who
preach austerity while
spending public money on spectacle.
Corporate sponsors reportedly
covered most of the racing bill, but
taxpayers will absorb
undisclosed costs for policing, emergency
services, and traffic
control. Downtown workers and commuters also
endured weeks of
construction, street closures, and
transportation changes. Trump rode
around the track in the presidential
limousine and waved the green
flag; the public will get part of the bill.
The
federal government is not a household.
Unlike you or me, it issues
currency and can spread the cost of
investments across generations.
Still, it cannot borrow without consequence
forever. The danger is
not simply the size of the debt, but how our
nation will respond to
it.
When
Washington embraces austerity, Black people
feel the sharp edge
first. We are more likely to work in the
public sector, where cuts
mean layoffs and frozen wages. We are more
likely to depend on public
schools, public hospitals, public
transportation, and Medicaid. We
are less likely to have inherited wealth to
cushion a job loss,
medical emergency, or rent increase.
According
to the Federal Reserve, only 38 percent of
Black adults had enough
emergency savings to cover three months of
expenses in 2025. The
comparable figure for white adults was 61
percent. That gap is not
the result of Black people being less
disciplined with money. It
reflects enslavement, exclusion,
discrimination, redlining, unequal
pay, and the systematic denial of
opportunities to accumulate and
transfer wealth.
When
government withdraws, households fill the
hole. A cut in college
assistance becomes a student loan. Reduced
health coverage becomes a
credit card balance. Inadequate public
transportation becomes a
high-interest car note. A shortage of
affordable housing becomes
punishing rent or an unaffordable mortgage.
Public
austerity becomes private debt.
And
private debt does not land evenly. Black
borrowers are more likely to
pay higher interest rates, face higher fees,
and have fewer favorable
credit options. Even Black people with solid
incomes may carry
additional obligations because we are
helping relatives whom
discrimination excluded from wealth-building
opportunities. This is
one form of the “Black tax.” The successful
Black household too
often becomes a miniature social-welfare
system because the larger
system has failed.
The
national debt is measured in trillions, but
Black families experience
its consequences in smaller, more brutal
numbers: the minimum credit
card payment, student-loan balance, late
fee, overdraft charge, rent
increase, and prescription that must wait
until payday.
We
cannot dismiss a $40 trillion national debt.
But neither should we
allow fiscal responsibility to become a code
phrase for racial and
economic cruelty. A serious debt-reduction
plan would close tax
loopholes, fund tax enforcement, curb
wasteful military spending, and
end unnecessary corporate subsidies. It
would invest in jobs,
education, infrastructure, and health
because a stronger economy
generates revenue.
Most
importantly, it would not balance the budget
on the backs of people
who received the fewest benefits.
The
debt is high. Choices must be made. But
before Black America is
ordered to tighten its belt again, perhaps
the people feasting at the
federal trough should be asked to leave the
table.
Fiscal
responsibility should begin at the top. And
if austerity is required,
sacrifice should begin there, too.
