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A Nation in the Red

This month the U.S. Treasury released its own financial statements showing the federal government holds $6 trillion in assets against $47 trillion in liabilities. The story got almost no mainstream media coverage. If you’ve been paying attention to people like Ray Dalio, none of this is surprising. The roadmap for how this happens has been written, published, and largely ignored.

A Nation in the Red

I’ve been reading Ray Dalio’s book “How Countries Go Broke.” Dalio has spent decades studying how countries accumulate debt to the point of crisis and the pattern he describes isn’t new. It has played out across history enough times that he can walk you through it like a blueprint.

The frustrating part is that books like this exist, people like Dalio spend their careers documenting exactly how this happens, and most of us never hear about it until the thing they warned about is already happening.

This month the U.S. Treasury released its own financial statements for fiscal year 2025. This was not a leak, or an outside analysis. This was their own numbers, by their accounting. And what those statements show is that the federal government currently holds about $6 trillion in assets against $47 trillion in liabilities. The total debt is nearly eight times what the government actually owns.

By the same accounting standard applied to any business or household in this country, that’s insolvency. The word sounds dramatic, but it has a straightforward definition: your liabilities exceed your assets by a margin you can’t reasonably close. That’s what the numbers show.
The story got almost no mainstream media coverage.

To make the scale of this feel real, a couple of economists who analyzed the report scaled the numbers down to household size. At that scale the federal government looks like a household earning $52,000 a year but spending $73,000, carrying $1.3 million in total debt against $60,000 in assets. If that were your financial profile, no bank would lend to you.

What makes the picture more complicated is that the $47 trillion figure doesn’t even include Social Security or Medicare obligations. Those are disclosed separately, off the main balance sheet. When you fold in the projected 75-year shortfall for those programs, which grew by $10 trillion in a single year, total federal obligations climb past $136 trillion. That’s roughly five times the size of the entire U.S. economy.

The interest payments alone on existing debt cost $1.22 trillion in fiscal year 2025. It took the United States nearly 200 years to accumulate its first trillion dollars in national debt. That same amount now gets spent every year just keeping up with what’s owed.

Dalio argues that the truly dangerous point for any heavily indebted country isn’t when the debt gets large. It’s when the borrowing stops being about building anything and becomes purely about servicing what you already owe. At that point the cycle becomes self-reinforcing and the options for getting out start to narrow considerably. We’re there.

This didn’t happen overnight and it didn’t happen because of one president or one party. It happened because of decades of the same pattern repeating across administrations with very different politics but very similar fiscal habits.
The national debt hit $1 trillion for the first time under Ronald Reagan in the early 1980s. Reagan cut taxes significantly while increasing defense spending, and the combination produced deficits that were considered alarming at the time. The argument was that economic growth would offset the revenue loss. It didn’t, and the debt kept climbing.

George Bush Sr. inherited that trajectory and to his political cost actually raised taxes in 1990 as part of a bipartisan budget deal aimed at slowing the bleeding. It contributed to his re-election loss. The lesson Washington took from that was not that fiscal discipline was worth the pain. It was that fiscal discipline was politically dangerous.

Bill Clinton presided over the only sustained budget surpluses in recent memory, from 1998 through 2001. That came from a combination of factors including the tech boom, a 1993 tax increase that every Republican in Congress voted against, and spending caps negotiated with a Republican House. For a brief window the trajectory looked like it might actually change.

Then George Bush Jr. took office, inherited those surpluses, and within a few years produced the largest deficits the country had seen since World War II. The 2001 and 2003 tax cuts reduced federal revenue significantly. The wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, kept off the official budget for years through emergency supplemental bills, added trillions more. The Medicare prescription drug benefit passed in 2003 with no funding mechanism attached to it. By the time the 2008 financial crisis hit, the government’s fiscal position was already badly weakened, and the response to the crisis required another massive wave of spending.

Barack Obama entered office in the middle of that financial collapse. The stimulus package, the ongoing cost of two wars, and the bank stabilization efforts that had actually begun under Bush pushed annual deficits past $1 trillion for several years running. His administration and a Republican Congress negotiated spending caps in 2011 that produced some restraint for a period, but the underlying structural gap between what the government spends and what it collects was never seriously closed.

Donald Trump’s first term added roughly $8 trillion to the national debt. The 2017 tax cuts reduced corporate and individual rates significantly, with projections at the time estimating $1.5 trillion in added deficit over ten years. Then COVID hit, and the federal response added several trillion more across packages that passed with broad bipartisan support.

Joe Biden continued large-scale spending through the American Rescue Plan, the infrastructure bill, and the Inflation Reduction Act. Supporters argued these were necessary investments. Critics argued they kept the spending trajectory going in a direction the country couldn’t sustain. Both things can be true at once. The debt crossed $33 trillion during his term.

Now under Trump’s second term the debt has crossed $39 trillion, interest payments have crossed $1 trillion annually, and the Treasury’s own report shows the balance sheet in the worst condition it has ever been in.

Running alongside all of this is a detail that doesn’t get nearly enough attention. The Government Accountability Office, which is the federal body responsible for auditing government financial statements, has issued a disclaimer of opinion for 29 consecutive years. That means since the mid-1990s, the official auditors have been unable to confirm whether the government’s own financial records are accurate. The reasons cited are persistent accounting failures at the Department of Defense and unresolved problems with how federal agencies track money between each other.

Think about what that means. If a public company’s auditors couldn’t sign off on its books for 29 years, trading in that stock would be halted. Executives would face investigation. The SEC would be involved. For the federal government it has been treated as a chronic background condition that gets noted in reports and then set aside.

Dalio’s framework is useful here because he doesn’t treat this as a moral failing specific to any one administration. He treats it as a structural problem built into how democratic governments handle debt. The incentives in electoral politics run directly against fixing it. Cutting spending means telling specific groups of voters they will receive less. Raising taxes means telling voters and donors they will pay more. Either path produces political pain in the short term. Doing nothing produces political pain much later, usually on someone else’s watch. Every administration has chosen the third option more often than not.
There have been genuine attempts at reform. The Simpson-Bowles Commission under Obama produced a serious bipartisan deficit reduction plan in 2010 that included both spending cuts and tax increases. Obama declined to formally endorse it and Congress didn’t act on it. A follow-up congressional supercommittee created in 2011 was supposed to find $1.2 trillion in deficit reduction and failed to reach any agreement at all.

There are two proposals currently in front of Congress. The bipartisan Fiscal Commission Act has over 40 co-sponsors and would create a formal body to evaluate the options required to stabilize federal finances and bring a plan to a vote. A separate resolution calls for a constitutional convention to propose a balanced budget amendment modeled on Switzerland’s debt brake, which requires the government to balance its budget over the full economic cycle rather than hitting zero every single year.
Whether either moves forward depends almost entirely on public pressure.

The federal government being insolvent on paper doesn’t mean the lights go off tomorrow. The United States still controls its own currency, still has the deepest bond market in the world, and still benefits from the dollar’s status as the global reserve currency. Those things provide a buffer that no household or business has access to.
But Dalio’s whole point is that the countries which navigate this best are the ones where enough people understood what was happening before the crisis forced their hand. The ones that didn’t are the case studies filling his book.

None of what the Treasury just reported is surprising if you’ve been paying attention. The roadmap for how this happens has been written, published, and largely ignored. What we’re watching now isn’t a sudden collapse. It’s the predictable result of decades of choices that prioritized the next election over the next generation, made by people on both sides of the aisle who understood exactly what they were doing.

The numbers are public record. The history is documented. Understanding what it means doesn’t require a finance degree. It just requires deciding that it’s worth knowing.