Letitia James Sues Trump USDA Over SNAP Ban for 35,000 New York Green Card Holders

An escalating battle over SNAP eligibility for green card holders could leave tens of thousands in New York City without food assistance, with implications that stretch far beyond the five boroughs.

New Yorkers are no strangers to legal drama, but few spats strike closer to home than a fight over who can afford to eat. On November 26th, Letitia James, the state’s attorney general, announced that New York is leading a 22-state coalition in suing the Trump administration in federal court. At stake is access to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP)—better known as food stamps—for countless legal immigrants, with more than 35,000 New Yorkers at risk of losing benefits in the city and state. In a metropolis where one in five people already relies on food aid, the prospect of thousands more going hungry is hardly appetising.

The suit targets the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) and its latest guidance, issued October 31st, which tells states to sever SNAP benefits for refugees and asylees—even those who have already secured green cards. This guidance interprets a provision of a Trump-era tax-and-spending measure passed in the summer, which Congress intended to narrow eligibility for some new arrivals. But Ms James argues that the USDA is going much further: instead of a scalpel, the agency is taking a hatchet to the rules, threatening lasting residents who arrived as refugees or were granted asylum. Should state governments refuse to enforce the federal guidance, they face hefty financial penalties. For New York, non-compliance could cost as much as $1.2bn in federal aid.

Administrators at city agencies and food pantries are watching with growing concern. Nearly 1.8m people in New York City—almost one in five residents—depend on SNAP to keep stretch grocery budgets. Removing a significant tranche of recipients overnight could stress the city’s already buckling social services. The recent two-week halt to SNAP benefits during the federal government shutdown left thousands hunting for food banks. “The uncertainty and chaos this month were just the tip of the iceberg,” one recipient told a local reporter, echoing widespread fears.

These immediate dangers conceal deeper systemic tremors. For legal immigrants, the message is clear: permanent residency is no longer a bulwark against capricious rule-changes. Fluctuations in eligibility fray trust in government programs and make the calculus of emigrating harder for those weighing their options abroad. Food insecurity is only the most obvious risk; others are subtler, gnawing at the promise of social mobility that makes New York tick.

Beyond kitchen tables, the ripple effects will be evident in classrooms, clinics, and corner shops. Studies have long shown that SNAP dollars spent in low-income neighborhoods act as reliable economic stimulants. Grocers in Queens and the Bronx will feel the pinch first, as spending tightens in already struggling precincts. Public-health experts, meanwhile, portend costlier outcomes downstream: child malnutrition, increased ER visits and a public hospital system ill-equipped for further strain. The city’s homeless shelter population—already north of 100,000 on any given night—may rise if more families find themselves unable to afford groceries and rent.

Nationally, New York’s suit is no isolated spat. The coalition includes 21 other states, among them New Jersey, California, and Illinois, all with sizable immigrant populations and similar urban challenges. The litigation is the most significant of several ongoing efforts by states to counter Washington’s restrictive pivot on social welfare and benefits. In this new chapter of federalism, the states—older, wealthier, and more diverse than in previous decades—are increasingly inclined to push back when they reckon the executive branch is encroaching on both budgets and values.

The numbers are stark, even by national yardsticks. Across the country, some 44 million people benefited from SNAP last year—about one in eight Americans. Immigrants who have obtained green cards are not a paltry group, nor are their economic circumstances uniquely buoyant: many work minimum-wage or gig jobs, and studies suggest food insecurity is disproportionately high among newcomers. Excluding large segments of them from assistance is not just a New York battle but a national test of how the safety net is to be woven in the 21st century.

How much discretion should federal agencies wield in welfare?

At the crux of the lawsuit is a contest of legal interpretation as much as one of policy. Congress, for all its fractiousness, gave little explicit direction about permanent residents who originally arrived as refugees or asylees. The USDA’s guidance—expanded to cover a group never before denied—portends a new era of administrative boldness. Ms James and her cohort argue that such sweeping changes ought to come, if at all, from the legislature, not by bureaucratic fiat.

We take a sceptical view of policy by memo. The power to garnish, much less remove, food assistance from tens of thousands should not lie solely in the hands of mid-level appointees. While the need to make welfare systems more efficient and targeted is well-taken, these measures are as likely to invite confusion as savings, and rarely deliver either in abundance.

Yet it is hard to ignore the pressure on Washington to restrain entitlement growth. SNAP’s budget, around $120bn nationally, is a tempting target for cost-cutters. But economies made by pinching food from legal immigrants are, if anything, penny-wise and pound-foolish, likely to produce more costs in healthcare and emergency services than they ever erase from the balance sheet.

By historical standards, America is now far from a land of boundless welfare. Other high-income countries extend similar or broader food-assistance benefits to their legal immigrants, betting—sometimes with a gambler’s bravado—that the long-term societal payback will outweigh immediate costs. The Trump administration’s retrenchment may inspire sympathetic moves in other states or nations, but the underlying arithmetic rarely squares.

For New York, the stakes are especially acute. Beyond its immigrant-friendly reputation, the city’s economic resilience, diversity, and social cohesion have long depended on absorbing newcomers and giving them a foothold. Hobbling legal residents at the supermarket checkout counter sends a queasy message about who belongs and who is expendable when budgets tighten.

In disputes like this, we favour clarity, evidence, and a national conversation about the scope and purpose of the safety net. Reform, if needed, should be grounded in proper debate—not sprung as a bureaucratic surprise, least of all one that leaves children and families hungry. In the end, the legal battle now before the courts may offer more than just guidance for the SNAP program; it will help decide who qualifies as “us” in a city and a nation that advertises itself to the world as a place of second chances. ■