This Administration plans to reduce in-person visits to Social Security field offices by 50% in 2026—despite earlier commitments to keep them open and accessible.
Last week, the media confirmed that in-person visits will be halved during the 2026 fiscal year—a direct reversal of now-Commissioner Frank Bisignano’s promise to the Senate that reducing these services was not his goal.
On a spreadsheet, cutting Social Security field office visits by 50 percent in 2026 probably looks clever. Fewer offices, fewer staff, fewer problems—at least if you believe humans behave like algorithms and anxiety can be resolved with a chatbot.
But Social Security is not a logistics problem. It’s a confidence problem.
The real “product” of a field office isn’t just a transaction—it’s reassurance. It’s the ability to sit across from another human being and say, “I don’t understand this,” without being rerouted, rebooted, or politely ignored by an AI that has never been confused, frightened, or 72 years old.
What’s particularly interesting is that this cut comes after a promise not to reduce in-person services. Common sense tells us that breaking a promise doesn’t just subtract trust—it multiplies distrust. You don’t get half the goodwill; you get a backlash.
And let’s talk about the supposed efficiency gains. We’ve cut 7,000 employees, shifted field office staff to phone lines, and replaced people with chatbots that struggle with nuance.
The result? More frustration, more repeat calls, and more costly errors. This isn’t efficiency—it’s a false economy. Like saving money by removing streetlights and then being shocked when accidents increase.
Which is why Congressman John Larson of Connecticut has stepped in with the Keeping Our Field Offices Open Act (H.R. 1876). And there’s something fitting about that. Because when something is plainly wrong, Connecticut Yankees have a long tradition of standing up and saying so—dating back to a certain disagreement with an empire that also believed centralization was more “efficient.”
This is that same instinct: when a system forgets the people it serves, you push back.
Because progress isn’t about removing humans from the system. It’s about knowing where humans matter most.
And here, they matter everywhere.
If we don’t intervene, this won’t be a minor adjustment—it will be a crushing blow to trust in one of the few institutions people still rely on. Now is the moment to object, clearly and loudly.
Alright, here’s the deal: take the first step. Speak up. I literally spelled out how to do that in my last thrilling episode of civic advice, which, shockingly, did not involve interpretive dance or a trust fall.
Or, you can sit there, twiddle your thumbs, and complain when everything goes sideways—and hey, you have every legal right to do that—but don’t act shocked when the universe and the rest of us just hits the mute button on your whining. And please, for the love of all things good, don’t try the classic ‘woe is me’ – ‘I’m the victim - routine. Because deep down, you and I both know the cold, hard truth: you disengaged, as per usual. Apparently, it’s your hobby. Pathetic. Truly.
Now, this Administration appears poised to deliver a final, crushing blow. Action is needed—and quickly. So, the questions are: What are you going to do about that? Who are you going to be in this instance? It occurs to be rather absurd that I have to actually write that everyone needs to get off their backside and send a message to both your Congressperson’s and Senators. Tell them you need them to fight to preserve Social Security Field Offices for every American who needs them.
In the meantime, we’ll keep you informed as the effort continues to protect Social Security field offices. After all, revolutions—large and small—often begin with someone refusing to accept what’s “efficient” when it’s obviously wrong.