Cutting “Foreign Waste” Sounds Good. Until You See the Cost
From famine warnings to countering extremism, here’s what America is really losing by gutting USAID
When President Trump addressed Congress last week, his list of "scams" and "appalling waste" in foreign assistance struck a chord with many of his supporters. After all, it's easy to question why American taxpayers should fund male circumcision in Mozambique or "social cohesion" in Mali when we have pressing needs at home.
Forty-five million for diversity scholarships in Burma? $20 million for an Arab "Sesame Street"? On the surface, these programs may sound like examples of the government waste voters elected Trump to eliminate. His administration's subsequent dismantling of USAID—putting thousands of employees on leave and freezing billions in foreign assistance—appears to Trump supporters to be simply fulfilling that mandate.
Having spent years analyzing American foreign policy across presidential administrations of both parties, I recognize that USAID has flaws. Programs like Promote in Afghanistan—which spent $280 million but helped just 55 women find better jobs—illustrate legitimate criticisms of inefficiency and waste.
But here's what's missing from this conversation: USAID isn't primarily a charity organization. It's a strategic instrument of American foreign policy, carefully developed over 60 years with bipartisan support as a cost-effective way to advance our national interests without deploying troops or imposing sanctions.
The diplomacy behind the dollars
President Kennedy understood this when he created USAID in 1961. As he told Congress, "To fail to meet those obligations now would be disastrous; and, in the long run, more expensive. For widespread poverty and chaos lead to a collapse of existing political and social structures which would inevitably invite the advance of totalitarianism into every weak and unstable area. Thus our own security would be endangered and our prosperity imperiled. A program of assistance to the underdeveloped nations must continue because the nation's interest and the cause of political freedom require it." When Kennedy looked at countries falling under Soviet influence, he recognized America needed tools beyond military force to compete for global influence.
Foreign assistance is fundamentally about leverage. When America builds a school, funds a health clinic, or provides emergency food relief, we're not just being generous - we're creating relationships and gaining influence that serve American interests. It's why successive administrations, both Republican and Democratic, have maintained USAID as a cornerstone of American foreign policy.
Take that "$20 million for Arab Sesame Street" that Trump mocked. The program doesn't just produce children's television - it delivers early childhood development to hundreds of thousands of children in regions where extremism thrives by exploiting poverty and lack of opportunity. Multiple studies have shown such investments help combat radicalization that could eventually threaten American security interests.
Or consider the "$14 million for improving public procurement in Serbia" - a program designed to bring transparency to government contracting in a region where Russia builds influence by exploiting corruption. This isn't feel-good charity; it's a calculated strategy to maintain democratic institutions in a geopolitically-contested region.
The scale and scope of dismantling
What's striking about the Trump administration's approach isn't just the decision to cut foreign aid, but the indiscriminate way it's being executed. Reuters recently reported on a 368-page document listing thousands of the canceled programs, from multimillion-dollar disease prevention efforts to contracts for interpreters worth a few thousand dollars. The sweeping nature of these cuts – from HIV prevention in the Dominican Republic to malaria eradication in Myanmar to fisheries in Ghana – suggests that we are simply abandoning these programs altogether, rather than being strategic about how to continue them.
Christian Smith, a 12-year veteran of USAID, described the policy shift this way in an op-Ed in The Guardian: "Administrative assistants were ordered to take down all the pictures of the many people the agency helps around the world as if it had been something shameful." In a particularly revealing and hurtful move, officials blocked access to the wall of names honoring those who had given their lives to the agency's mission.
The battle in the courts
The legal fight over USAID's future has reached the Supreme Court, with last week's sharply divided 5-4 decision denying the administration's request to block a lower court order prohibiting suspension of foreign aid funding. This cleared the way for nearly $2 billion in payments for work already done.
But within hours, in an effort to challenge the rejection of the temporary nature of the suspension, the administration filed a court order stating it had made final decisions on all USAID and State Department projects, canceling about 5,800 USAID
programs — over 90% of the total. This effectively keeps the issue in the courts without forcing the administration to pay the funding.
The court battles highlight something profound: the dismantling of USAID isn't just a policy disagreement but a fundamental restructuring of America's global posture. As the courts deliberate, billions in assistance remain frozen, thousands of employees are in limbo, and America's reputation for reliability hangs in the balance.
The consequences are already visible. Plan International, a global organization that advocates for children's rights, reported that "tens of thousands" of doses of essential medicine to assist malnourished children in refugee camps are stuck in warehouses in Ethiopia, far from the 75 health clinics that need them – a direct result of the funding freeze.
The cost-benefit analysis
Americans should demand efficiency and accountability in foreign assistance. But we should also understand what we're getting for our investment. USAID's entire budget represents less than 1% of federal spending – pennies on the dollar for the strategic advantages it provides.
When former Secretary of State Marco Rubio was a senator, he understood this equation perfectly, tweeting in 2017: "Foreign Aid is not charity. We must make sure it is well spent, but it is less than 1% of the budget & critical to our national security." His recent reversal as Secretary of State represents a strategic contradiction, rather than just a political shift.
This is less about politics than America's ability to shape world events without resorting to military force. When a humanitarian crisis, such as the 2021 earthquake in Haiti, destabilizes a region, America has traditionally had two options: provide assistance that helps prevent wider chaos, or eventually send in troops when the situation deteriorates. The former is invariably cheaper, both in dollars and American lives.
Or take food security. The Trump administration's USAID cuts have silenced the Famine Early Warning Systems Network, eliminating the world's most reliable food crisis monitoring system. With its website down and researchers unpaid, decades of vital data used to prevent famines in places like Sudan, Yemen, and Afghanistan has vanished overnight. Not only does famine cost lives, it is a driver of violence that leads to instability that could ultimately require U.S. military intervention.
A gift to China
The strategic cost of dismantling USAID extends beyond the immediate humanitarian impact. As America withdraws from its global commitments, others like China are already moving in to fill the void.
In Cambodia, China immediately assumed funding for a high-profile de-mining project the United States had abandoned. In Nepal, Chinese officials are already providing aid that USAID had previously delivered. In Colombia, Chinese representatives are approaching organizations previously funded by American assistance.
This pattern isn't accidental. For years, China has been expanding its global influence through its Belt and Road Initiative, a plan to build infrastructure and trade routes that connect Asia, Europe, and Africa. Now Beijing sees America's retreat as an unprecedented opportunity.
Reform, not destruction
Every administration since Kennedy has attempted reforms to improve USAID's transparency and effectiveness. But instead of targeting waste while preserving capabilities, the administration has taken a sledgehammer to an institution built over six decades with bipartisan support. Here is how Democratic Senator Jeff Merkley described the approach to reporters after meeting with administration officials: "You're burning down the village right now because you found a few termites in a post."
When Inspector General reports recently revealed that emergency food aid worth nearly half a billion dollars is now at risk of spoiling in ports and warehouses worldwide, it demonstrated this wasn't surgical reform but indiscriminate demolition.
Americans have a right to question how their tax dollars are spent on foreign aid spending. But they deserve a more sophisticated conversation than simply labeling all assistance as "waste" or "scams." The question isn't whether we can afford to maintain USAID - it's whether we can afford the strategic costs of abandoning it.
If we're serious about American leadership in a competitive world, we need to recognize that soft power isn't just charity -- it's strategy. And while the current dismantling of USAID may satisfy a political moment, the strategic void it creates won't remain empty for long.
Christian Smith remains cautiously optimistic about America's future global leadership role. In his own words: "Despite some people's attempts to reshape the US and its place in the world, we have not seen the end of American generosity… We also know that we can't make ideas go away, and the best ones – like kindness and caring for others – are actually what bind us."
I worked with the Chinese Government as a language education consultant for 15 years, during which time the Belt and Road Initiative was unveiled. I understand the beneficial impact it will have on those at the end of the line--Europe, but also on all of the currently underdeveloped communities along it's vast route. I've visited global sites where China's soft power investments have won them the hearts of people in Costa Rica, Botswana, Australia and many more.
I have a very close relative who has regularly walked the migration routes of Yemenis fleeing to Africa. They have been displaced not only by fighting, but by environmental disasters such as flooding and storms. Changes in rainfall patterns have devastated its agriculture and access to food and water. As they cross the Bab-el-Mandeb Strait into Djibouti, they pass Africans (primarily Ethiopians and Somalis, who are making the dangerous trek in the opposite direction in search of a better life for their families.
The world is vast and complicated. Myopic approaches to how, or even if, we participate in supporting political and ecomomic stability and basic life-supporting infrastructure are not helpful. While we all argue on social media while comfortably seated on our couches, and while our legislators are reposting news articles about their cute paddles and sharing videos of themselves holding weak-ass press conferences, the vacuum our absence has created is being filled by governments who do not share our values for democracy and ndividual freedom and who will gladly win the friends we are shunning.
From my career and family's global life experience, I have learned one important thing, and it became my motto over the years:
It is cheaper and easier to win friends than to defeat enemies.
Thank you for sharing this, Elise! Even though starting off the week with a more nuanced understanding of how chaotic things are doesn’t feel awesome, I suppose it’s necessary to get the full context to inform how much we should or shouldn’t be dreading the future. Next thing my brain wants to focus on is preventing future dread. And while I do not see much I can do directly to change what’s happening, I do feel I can at least help get the word out to challenge the propaganda coming from the White House.
Reading this article, I imagine many of us are having distinctly different reactions based on our starting assumptions. If you generally believe government programs are worthwhile until proven wasteful, this article likely feels like yet another exhausting example of shortsighted destruction. If you tend to see government spending as suspect until proven essential, you might welcome this reset as an opportunity to rebuild only what's truly necessary.
I've been experimenting with approaches to bridge these divides online, both with strangers and loved ones. Here's what I've learned: I've never had someone reply, "You know what? You've completely changed my mind." That's not a realistic objective for most online interactions. Instead, I aim to balance discussions that have become one-sided, introduce reasonable doubt about absolutist positions, plant seeds that might sprout later when someone experiences contradictions in their chosen position, and model thoughtful engagement for the silent observers.
When someone repeats talking points about "wasteful" programs (like the Arab "Sesame Street" example mentioned in the article), I've found success with questions that invite genuine curiosity rather than confrontation: "Do you happen to know what the intent behind that program was?" or "I'm interested to hear what you think the alternatives might be if we don't fund this type of work? Are you concerned about China and Russia filling the voids of support we are leaving?" or "Have you ever met someone who worked in or benefited from these programs? I'd be curious about their perspective." Sometimes I'll ask, "What sources do you trust for evaluating the effectiveness of these programs?" which often reveals whether they've formed opinions based on specific information or general assumptions.
This approach builds enough trust to eventually ask more challenging questions: "If you generally distrust government officials, does that skepticism extend to all powerful figures including those you tend to support? Or is there a double standard at play?" or "What would convince you that a particular program actually serves our national interests rather than just being wasteful spending?"
People don't respond well to being told they're uninformed. The trope of repeating the words “facts” and “research” as if they are an argument in themselves is common, but absurd.
However, almost all of us are uncomfortable with inconsistency in our own thinking. Gently highlighting contradictions in someone's position ("You distrust bureaucrats but give complete benefit of doubt to certain politicians") will always be more effective than presenting contrary facts. “Facts” have almost no persuasiveness in these discussions unless someone is asking for them.
Even when the person you're engaging with seems unmovable, countless others are reading silently. They're often more persuadable because they're not publicly committed to a position. Success in these conversations isn't converting the staunchest opponents—it's ensuring that those with legitimate concerns about programs like USAID can see there's a substantive case for their strategic importance, even if they ultimately disagree. Right now, they likely only have propaganda in their ears.
I'm curious how others approach these conversations. Have you found effective ways to discuss complex policy issues like foreign aid with people who start from fundamentally different assumptions?