Drug Testing SNAP Recipients Was a Costly Failure—and Policing Food Choices Is a Moral Failing

In the ongoing debate over poverty and public assistance in the United States, few programs have been as misunderstood—and as unfairly targeted—as the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP). Designed to help low-income individuals and families afford food, SNAP is a lifeline for millions. Yet instead of being treated as a compassionate tool to alleviate hunger and support dignity, it has often been weaponized by policymakers who seek to stigmatize the poor.

Two particularly egregious examples of this are the efforts to drug test SNAP recipients and the push to restrict what kinds of food they can buy. Both initiatives are rooted in harmful stereotypes, both have failed on practical and ethical grounds, and both reveal a deeper discomfort with the idea of poor people experiencing autonomy, pleasure, or joy.

The Myth of Drug Use Among SNAP Recipients

Between 2014 and 2019, at least 13 states implemented drug testing or screening programs for applicants to Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF), a cash assistance program that often overlaps with SNAP eligibility. These programs were justified by the assumption that people in poverty are more likely to use drugs and that testing would save taxpayer money by denying benefits to those who failed.

But the data tells a different story.

According to a comprehensive analysis by ThinkProgress, over 263,000 people were screened across these states, yet fewer than 1% tested positive for drugs. In some states, the number was even lower. For example:

• Missouri spent over $336,000 on drug testing in 2014 and found only 48 positive results out of 38,970 applicants.

• Tennessee spent $11,000 in its first six months and found just one positive result.

• Florida, which briefly implemented mandatory drug testing for TANF applicants in 2011, found that only 2.6% of applicants tested positive—lower than the national average for drug use. The program was later struck down as unconstitutional, and the state was forced to pay over $307,000 in legal fees.

These programs didn’t uncover widespread drug use—they exposed the futility and prejudice of policies that treat poverty as a moral failing. As the Center for Law and Social Policy (CLASP) noted, such testing is “an unwise use of state taxpayer dollars” and “based on erroneous stereotypes” that unfairly target low-income individuals.

The Cost of Stigma

Beyond the financial waste, drug testing programs inflicted emotional and psychological harm. They sent a clear message: if you are poor, you are suspect. You must prove your worthiness. You must submit to scrutiny.

This kind of surveillance erodes trust and dignity. It reinforces the false narrative that poverty is a result of personal failure rather than systemic inequality. And it diverts attention from the real issues—lack of affordable housing, stagnant wages, inaccessible healthcare—that drive people into poverty in the first place.

Policing the Grocery Cart: A New Front in the War on the Poor

If drug testing was about controlling bodies, then food restrictions are about controlling pleasure. In recent years, some lawmakers have proposed limiting what SNAP recipients can buy, particularly targeting snacks, soda, and desserts. These efforts are framed as promoting health or fiscal responsibility, but they often mask a deeper discomfort with the idea of poor people experiencing small joys.

In 2017, Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker proposed banning SNAP purchases of “junk food,” including chips, candy, and soda. Other states have floated similar ideas, suggesting that SNAP should only cover “nutritious” foods. But who decides what counts as nutritious? And why is the grocery cart of a poor person subject to public debate?

The USDA, which administers SNAP, has consistently rejected these proposals. In a 2015 report, the agency concluded that restricting food choices would be costly, difficult to enforce, and unlikely to improve health outcomes. Moreover, studies show that SNAP recipients spend their benefits in ways that are broadly similar to non-recipients. According to a USDA analysis, soft drinks account for about 5% of SNAP purchases—roughly the same as for households not receiving SNAP.

The Moral Case for Kindness

At the heart of these debates is a question of values. What kind of society do we want to be? One that punishes people for being poor, or one that uplifts them with compassion?

SNAP is a “hand up,” not a punishment. It exists to ensure that people can meet their basic needs with dignity. For someone struggling to make ends meet, a small treat like a cookie or an ice cream bar isn’t a frivolous indulgence—it can be a moment of normalcy, a reminder of joy, or a way to comfort a child.

When people are poor, they are often stripped of choices. They are told where they can live, what jobs they can take, how they must behave. To then tell them what they can eat is to extend that control into the most intimate corners of life. It is a moral overreach.

That cookie or ice cream bar is the little bump to make them feel human and worthwhile.It’s not about nutrition—it’s about dignity. It’s about recognizing that pleasure is not a luxury reserved for the wealthy. It’s a human right.

The Psychology of Poverty and Pleasure

Research in psychology supports this view. Studies show that small pleasures can have outsized effects on mental health, especially for those under chronic stress. A treat, a moment of indulgence, can restore a sense of agency and self-worth.

In her book Scarcity: Why Having Too Little Means So Much, economist Sendhil Mullainathan and psychologist Eldar Shafir explore how poverty taxes the mind. When people are constantly worried about money, their cognitive bandwidth shrinks. They become more impulsive, more anxious, less able to plan. In this context, a small pleasure—a cookie, a soda, a moment of sweetness—is not irrational. It’s restorative.

To deny that is to misunderstand the lived experience of poverty. It’s to impose middle-class norms on people whose lives are shaped by scarcity, trauma, and exclusion.

The Racial and Class Dimensions of Control

It’s also important to recognize that these policies don’t exist in a vacuum. They are part of a broader pattern of racialized and class-based control. Drug testing and food policing disproportionately affect Black and brown communities, who are overrepresented among SNAP recipients due to systemic inequalities in housing, employment, and education.

These policies echo older forms of surveillance—from the “welfare queen” myth of the 1980s to the work requirements and time limits of the 1990s. They reflect a persistent belief that poor people, especially poor people of color, must be monitored, corrected, and reformed.

But poverty is not a crime. And public assistance is not a privilege—it’s a right.

Toward a More Humane Policy

If we truly believe in the purpose of SNAP as a support system, then we must also believe in the humanity of those who use it. That means rejecting policies that waste money on baseless drug testing and resisting efforts to micromanage grocery lists.

Instead, we should focus on expanding access, increasing benefit levels, and removing barriers. We should trust people to make their own choices. We should treat them not as problems to be solved but as neighbors to be supported.

The goal is not just to feed people—it’s to nourish their dignity. A hand up should come with kindness, not control.

Conclusion: Reclaiming Compassion

The failure of drug testing programs and the cruelty of food policing reveal a deeper truth: our public assistance systems are too often shaped by suspicion rather than solidarity. They reflect a politics of punishment rather than a politics of care.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

We can choose a different path—one that honors the humanity of every person, regardless of income. We can build systems that offer support without shame, help without humiliation. We can recognize that poverty is not a moral failing, and that pleasure is not a privilege.

SNAP recipients deserve more than calories. They deserve kindness. They deserve dignity. They deserve the freedom to choose a cookie, an ice cream bar, or whatever small joy helps them feel human.

Because being poor should never mean being punished.

Sources:

ThinkProgress: What 13 states discovered after spending hundreds of thousands drug testing the poor

CLASP: Drug Testing and Public Assistance

USDA: SNAP Purchases Report

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