Outrage on a budget, just add ‘welfare’

If a kid stole $1.20, would a newspaper cover it?

What if an accountant embezzled $42, would it make the evening news?

What if it happened a handful of times? Would there be outrage, and press releases and public policy solutions?

Of course not. While there’s no question that stealing a buck is wrong or embezzling is a crime, it’s hard to find outrage with such small matters.

Nobody really got hurt. Not a lot of money at stake.

But add one word to the mix, and it all changes: Welfare.

Refer to something as “welfare fraud” or a “welfare scam” and no sin is so small to avoid the full force of the law and the government.

For even a casual observer of politics or news in Maine, we are lead to believe that our state is beset with cheaters, scoundrels, “illegals” and crooks.

Despite evidence to the contrary, the perception is fuel for a hot fire, particularly among conservatives, to reduce or eliminate programs that are meant to help low-income families, most of whom are working but can’t make ends meet in an economy that’s stacked against them.

Every legislative session, and this year is no exception, lawmakers are quick to get tough with folks “who aren’t truly needy” and “who are abusing the system.”

While the LePage administration has used a bureaucratic maneuver to deny Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (food stamps) benefits to thousands of low-income Mainers, the Legislature is tripping over itself to make sure that poor folks can’t buy junk food.

Despite evidence that errors and fraud in the food stamps program is low and declining, the notion that somebody, somewhere is cheating the system sends people into conniptions.

And politicians all want to look tough on the issue. Who can blame them?

In March, WGME-TV in Portland filed a report from Norway in which a local detective talked about his investigation into a “water dumping” scam.

A person allegedly bought bottled water with an EBT card from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program. Then he or she, the TV report said, dumped out the water to collect the nickel deposit on the bottles, which they can use to buy other things not allowed by SNAP.

“Well, we had this one incident reported to us, and it was a tip given to us,” the detective said.

The Department of Health and Human Services chimed in with its own commentary, calling it a “statewide scam.”

From the WGME report: “A case of 24 bottles is about $1.20 at a redemption center, but several cases can add up fast.”

No it can’t. And scattered incidents don’t make something a statewide scam.

The average SNAP benefit for a person in Maine for 2014 is a miserly $116 per month. At $3.50 a case for bottled water, you could spend your entire benefit and get 35 cases of water. That translates into just $42 in bottle deposit money.

The story was picked up by the Bangor Daily News, which is 133 miles from Norway, and the Sun Journal in Lewiston. It was reported on the radio and traveled the world on the Internet. I even saw it on WPDE-TV’s website in South Carolina.

Give him credit, Gov. Paul LePage knows what makes people mad, and he keeps the volume on “welfare fraud” turned up to 11.

On April 15, the LePage administration issued a press release touting its efforts to crack down on “welfare fraud.”

According to the release, Department of Health and Humans Services investigators referred 66 suspected cases of fraud to the Office of the Attorney General in 2013 and 81 cases in 2014. Those numbers are up from previous years and follow the doubling of the size of the investigations unit inside DHHS.

Referrals, mind you. Not convictions.

By any reasonable measure, 66 suspected cases of “welfare fraud” in 2013 is no crime wave.

At this point, we’ve all been trained to say, “no amount of waste, fraud or abuse is appropriate.”

But the attention paid to the often low-level abuse is outsized to its actual impact on lives or the state’s financial health.

Common sense should tell us that the desperate person who buys water to get the nickel deposit isn’t the biggest threat we face as a society or a state.

But we’ve been conditioned to see every minor infraction of public assistance as a personal insult and an outrage.

Given the other problems we face, my rage costs more than $1.20.

David Farmer is a public affairs, political and media consultant in Portland, where he lives with his wife and two children. He was senior adviser to Democrat Mike Michaud’s campaign for governor.

David Farmer

About David Farmer

David Farmer is a political and media consultant in Portland, where he lives with his wife and two children. He was senior adviser to Democrat Mike Michaud’s campaign for governor and a longtime journalist. You can reach him at dfarmer14@hotmail.com.