Welfare becomes a lifeline tethering dignity to despair. It isn’t just a safety net; it’s a reminder that even when life crumbles into jagged edges, society still sees you as human. It whispers, You’re worth saving. It steadies the hand trembling with frustration, keeps the door cracked for some future chance.

Without it, there’s only the gnawing temptation of survival by any means: the cold calculus of armed robbery, the lure of property larceny, the slow burn of resentment morphing into full-blown class warfare. Welfare isn’t just about economics—it’s about preventing people from crossing a line they might never return from. It’s a declaration that, no matter how bleak today looks, tomorrow can still carry hope, and you don’t have to steal it.

If you strip welfare away, what you’re really doing is daring desperation to knock on your door. It’s like saying, Go ahead, come take what you need—if you dare. And the truth is, they probably will, because hunger, poverty, and despair don’t wait politely in line.

When you leave people with no options, you create a system where survival demands boldness, and boldness often turns to violence. It’s not just class warfare in theory—it’s a real, tangible conflict in the streets, in homes, in communities. Welfare isn’t just charity; it’s a way to keep society from cannibalizing itself. It’s a truce, a mutual understanding that, we’ll help you stand, so you don’t have to bring the whole house down.