When policy becomes paperwork: What H.R. 1 means for frontline Human Services

When H.R. 1, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, was signed into law last year, most of the conversation focused on the numbers: millions of Americans projected to lose health coverage, roughly $186 billion cut from SNAP over ten years, and billions in costs shifting toward states and counties.

A year in, SNAP enrollment has fallen by more than 13% in twelve months to a level the Congressional Budget Office didn't expect until 2030.

Behind that number are hours of explaining, checking and documenting that every new requirement adds to a Human Services professional’s day. When those hours run out, people can lose benefits they still qualify for. Even before H.R. 1, one in eight working-age adults in SNAP families had their benefits interrupted because they couldn't complete recertification on time. The new law adds even more work requirements, exemptions and verifications on top of that. Every one of them is another place for a human being to fall through.

Behind every one of these SNAP cases is a human services worker. Where these workers are on the front line, a policy change isn’t a memo, its directly affecting their practice. Someone has to explain what has changed, work out whether the work requirements apply, identify exemptions, and collect the right documentation. Then, at the next recertification, they do it all again.

For Debbie-Ann Anderson, Director of Human Services for Union County, New Jersey, this is the challenge at the heart of H.R. 1: as eligibility becomes more complex, more of both residents' and workers' time is pulled into proving, checking and documenting compliance. Time that they didn’t even have in the first place! 

The frontline reality

“It's twofold,” Debbie-Ann says. “Clients have to understand what the new requirements mean for them, while workers have to help them navigate those requirements and remain compliant.”

For residents, that means working out whether the rules apply to them, whether they qualify for an exemption, and what documentation they need to provide. That part isn't going well.

“The clients are confused,” she says. “Very, very confused.”

For workers, the confusion lands as time. Interviews run longer. Each case needs significantly more documentation. Exemptions have to be identified, verified and written up. Questions about deadlines keep coming, and call volumes keep rising, because the same workers are handling both the calls and the paperwork behind them.

Debbie-Ann describes the workload as “really, really intense,” and says staff wellbeing and retention are increasingly on her mind. Union County has brought in a wellness coach to help teams manage the pressure.

Where that pressure leads

Arizona shows what can happen when a human services system struggles to absorb that work.The state's SNAP caseload fell by more than half in a year, the steepest drop in the country. The records explain a lot of this. The agency that runs SNAP dropped more than three million calls between October 2024 and March 2026. Only 13% of calls for eligibility interviews ended in a completed interview. And more than half of all applications and recertifications were denied for a single reason: the required interview didn't happen in time.

Staffing and phone systems were a big part of the story. Arizona’s eligibility staff fell from 1,370 to 880 in a year, a cut the agency attributed to reduced federal funding. Then the state moved faster than most to apply the new rules, which meant more verification and more interviews. A smaller team was now handling a bigger workload. Applicants struggled to get through by phone, and many lost their benefits without an interview ever taking place. 

Arizona’s agency director said the state is an outlier because it implemented the changes faster than other states, and that the gap will close as they catch up. 

If he’s right, Arizona is a warning. The law decides who qualifies. But whether someone actually keeps their benefits also depends on whether the agency has the staff to process their case.

The pressure is structural

This isn’t an adjustment that will settle once staff learn the new process. It’s a permanent increase in the work each case requires. Between October and January, three changes land on the same county offices, and together they make worker time the defining constraint on county Human Services.

On October 1, the federal share of SNAP administrative costs dropped from 50% to 25%. In New Jersey, where SNAP is state-supervised but administered by counties, and counties cover the entire non-federal share, that bill now lands directly on places like Union County. Nationally, the National Association of Counties estimates the shift will cost counties about $850 million a year. More paperwork to process, for fewer people, at a higher local cost. Without additional funding, Debbie-Ann worries that counties like hers could eventually face difficult decisions around staffing and services.

A second pressure comes from payment error rates. Starting in October 2027, states pay 5% of benefit costs if their error rate is 6-8%, 10% if it’s 8-10%, and 15% if it’s 10% or higher. An “error” is any payment that is too high or too low, so the rate captures mistakes, not fraud. The national average is about 11%, so most states are exposed. 

State agencies are responding to the incentive. In a spring 2026 survey of state SNAP agencies, 15 states said they had cut back their focus on processing benefits quickly in order to prioritize accuracy. But, of course, the surest way to reduce errors is more verification, more paperwork, and more time per case.

Supporters of the cost-share see it differently. They argue that billions of dollars are paid incorrectly each year and that a financial stake is what finally pushes states to fix it. In their view, accuracy can improve through better systems and training rather than by making it harder for eligible people to enroll.

The same offices face another test soon, on January 1, when Medicaid work requirements take effect in more than 40 states. Expansion adults will have to prove they work, study, volunteer, or qualify for an exemption, and renew coverage every six months instead of every twelve. CMS itself estimates the rule will cost 2 million to 3 million people their coverage each year. The date could slip: five governors asked HHS on October 1 for a delay, and 25 states and DC are suing over the federal rule. Either way, chaos will likely ensue. 

Arkansas’s 2018 Medicaid work requirement is the best-studied precedent for this. More than 18,000 people lost coverage before a judge halted the program in 2019, many because the process was confusing or they didn’t know the policy existed, and employment didn’t rise. This time the requirement is national, with checks twice as frequent, and it runs through the same agencies already absorbing the SNAP changes.

Where the need goes

The consequences don't stop at SNAP and Medicaid. Research has linked more generous SNAP policies to fewer child maltreatment reports and foster care placements, and some studies link Medicaid expansion to fewer foster care admissions. When one form of support becomes harder to reach, the need doesn't disappear. It shows up somewhere else: a food bank, a school, a housing service, a behavioral health provider, a child welfare agency.

Debbie-Ann is already thinking about what that means. “Government cannot be the only solution. We need to build a strong network around it,” she says. That means bringing nonprofits, community organizations, foundations and businesses to the table.

But more infrastructure alone isn't the answer. “Right now, every system is in silo,” she says. She sees it in her own department, which spans eligibility, aging, disability, transportation and homelessness. Residents give the same information to multiple organizations, while frontline teams navigate programs and processes that don't always connect.

“The fundamental question,” Debbie-Ann says, “is how does one family or one person take a journey through our system that is simple?”

The rules changed. The systems should too.

Debbie-Ann is clear that she disagrees with significant elements of H.R. 1, and worries about creating more barriers for people who need support. She isn't alone in that.

The first year has taught something the legislative debate missed. The rules set the ceiling on who qualifies, but the floor on who actually gets help is set by time: how many minutes it takes a worker to complete an interview, verify an exemption, write up the case, and do it all again in six months.

Human services leaders don’t write the rules, but they do influence how much of a worker’s day the rules consume, and that determines how a family experiences them. A new requirement doesn’t have to become a new manual task, or a new verification another queue. Complexity in the policy doesn’t have to reach the worker on the phone or the family on the other end.

“It's called Human Services for a reason,” Debbie-Ann says. “It's to help shape a better tomorrow for all.”

A solution 

Beam helps Human Services teams reduce administrative burden, giving frontline workers more capacity without adding headcount. As H.R. 1 shifts the pressure onto counties, that time back is what decides whether people who qualify actually get help.

Book a demo to see how Beam can give your teams more time for the people they serve.

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