Let’s stop pretending this came out of nowhere.

When Minnesota Governor Tim Walz announced he wouldn’t seek reelection amid mounting reports that Somali immigrant networks may have exploited federally funded programs—including childcare benefits—the shock wasn’t about Minnesota. Minnesota has become familiar terrain in these stories. The shock was that the facts fit too neatly into a pattern Americans already know by heart: as government grows, accountability shrinks.

This wasn’t a bolt from the blue. It was the next crack in a glacier we’ve been watching drift toward us for years.

Fraud in government systems is not new. What’s new—what should terrify anyone still paying attention—is how large the public believes it has become. A majority of Americans now believe fraud tied to federally funded programs exceeds $1 billion. That’s not an abstraction. That’s not a spreadsheet problem. That’s rent. That’s groceries. That’s gas. That’s a working family wondering why the math never works anymore.

Only 28 percent of voters think that number is unlikely. Everyone else? They don’t just suspect mismanagement—they assume it.

And why wouldn’t they?

When FBI Director Kash Patel described the Minnesota scandal as “just the tip of a very large iceberg,” Americans didn’t recoil at the language. They recognized it. Sixty-one percent agreed outright. Not begrudgingly. Not hesitantly. They nodded because it confirmed what they already believed: Washington hasn’t been guarding the store—it’s been looking the other way.

This isn’t partisan. It’s personal.

This is the slow burn of taxpayers who feel less like citizens and more like involuntary ATM machines. People who do everything right—work, comply, contribute—while watching the system reward those who exploit it.

Trust in Congress has collapsed for a reason. Not long ago, more than half of Americans said a random person pulled from the phone book could do a better job than the sitting Congress. That number may fluctuate, but the sentiment doesn’t. Voters don’t believe leadership is fixing problems—or even acknowledging them honestly.

Then comes the part everyone tiptoes around, but voters won’t ignore: the involvement of immigrant networks.

Let’s be clear. Americans overwhelmingly support legal immigration and assimilation. That’s not the issue. The issue is the line between generosity and gullibility. When compassion becomes a loophole, public trust collapses. When fraud hides behind moral intimidation, resentment grows—and it poisons the very programs meant to help those in genuine need.

Benefit fraud is not victimless.

It steals from struggling families who play by the rules.
It fuels resentment toward honest recipients.
It corrodes public support for safety nets that should be protected.

And when organized or foreign-linked networks exploit these systems, the problem stops being financial and starts becoming strategic. That’s not accounting negligence—that’s a national vulnerability.

So what do Americans want?

Not speeches. Not task forces. Not press conferences.

They want systems that work.

They want independent audits with real teeth.
They want oversight committees accountable to the public, not party leadership.
They want real-time fraud monitoring, not postmortems.
They want whistleblowers protected, not buried.
They want prosecutions—not apologies.

Governor Walz stepping aside tells us everything we need to know. Governors don’t abandon safe political ground over clerical errors. Voters understand that. They see this for what it is: a visible fracture in a much larger iceberg drifting beneath the surface.

Americans are generous people. But generosity is not the same as blindness.

They don’t want to dismantle social programs—they want to defend them from abuse. They don’t reject compassion—they reject corruption. Demanding accountability isn’t cruelty. It’s stewardship. It’s citizenship. It’s patriotism.

Washington has been warned.

The next time that alarm bell rings—61 percent and climbing—it won’t just be another poll. It will be the sound of a country done pretending the iceberg isn’t there, and ready to drain it before it sinks the ship