The United States Government is Now Officially Insolvent
- Lindsay Timcke

- May 13
- 2 min read
Every once in a while, the federal government releases a document that should dominate the national conversation. Last week was one of those moments. The Treasury’s FY 2025 consolidated financial statements quietly confirmed what economists Steve Hanke and former Comptroller General David Walker outlined in their recent Fortune commentary: by its own accounting, the United States is insolvent.
Treasury reports roughly $6 trillion in assets against nearly $48 trillion in liabilities, plus another $88 trillion in unfunded Social Security and Medicare obligations sitting off the balance sheet. Combined, total federal obligations exceed $136 trillion. This is not a partisan claim. It is arithmetic. And for context, these statements were released under a Treasury Department led by a Trump‑appointed Secretary, which removes the usual reflex to dismiss the numbers as political messaging.
This fiscal picture is emerging as the U.S. enters a widening conflict with Iran, accompanied by a new $200 billion funding request. War layered on top of structural insolvency accelerates pressure on every part of the system, especially the debt markets that keep the government running.
The Government Accountability Office has now issued 29 consecutive disclaimers of opinion because it still cannot verify the federal government’s books. Defense accounting remains unauditable. Interagency transactions cannot be reconciled. And yet the release barely registered in the media cycle.
Hanke and Walker translate the federal balance sheet into household terms: imagine earning $52,000, spending $73,000, and owing $1.3 million. No family would call that sustainable. No board of directors would tolerate it. But at the federal level, it is treated as background noise.
Here is what this means for the average person. Insolvency shows up as higher interest rates, reduced purchasing power, shrinking benefits, higher taxes, and a government increasingly reliant on short‑term borrowing. It shows up in grocery bills, mortgage quotes, Social Security strain, and the quiet erosion of fiscal resilience. Add the cost of a new war, and the pressure compounds.
And for bonds, the implications are direct. Rising deficits and emergency war spending push yields higher, depress existing bond values, and increase refinancing costs. The more the government borrows, the more the market demands a premium. Eventually, the debt itself becomes the risk.
The Treasury did not whisper. It published the truth in plain sight. The question now is whether anyone is willing to confront what the numbers actually mean.
