The National Debt: How Much Does America Owe?

As of September 30, 2025, the total outstanding public debt of the United States stood at $37.64 trillion [1]. That figure — roughly $112,000 for every person in the country — has become a fixture of political rhetoric from both parties, invoked to justify spending cuts, tax increases, or, depending on the speaker, neither. But the raw number, enormous as it is, tells only part of the story. What matters is who holds the debt, what it costs to service, how it compares to the economy that supports it, and whether it represents a genuine crisis or a manageable feature of modern governance.

The answers depend on whom you ask — and which data you choose to emphasize.

The Numbers: Where Things Stand

The $37.64 trillion gross debt breaks down into two categories. Debt held by the public — Treasury securities owned by individuals, corporations, the Federal Reserve, and foreign governments — totals approximately $30 trillion [1]. Intragovernmental holdings, primarily money the Treasury owes to the Social Security and Medicare trust funds, account for the remaining $7.6 trillion [1].

Economists generally focus on debt held by the public as the more meaningful measure, because it represents actual borrowing from capital markets. By that metric, public debt stands at roughly 95% of GDP. Gross debt, including intragovernmental holdings, puts the ratio at approximately 120% [2].

Source: Treasury Fiscal Data

Data as of Sep 30, 2025CSV

For context, the debt-to-GDP ratio was 31% in 1981. It crossed 60% during the Obama administration's response to the 2008 financial crisis, breached 100% during the COVID-19 pandemic, and has remained near that threshold since [2]. The Congressional Budget Office projects it will reach 120% by 2036 and 175% by 2056 under current law [3].

The federal deficit — the annual gap between spending and revenue — was $1.78 trillion in fiscal year 2025, or roughly 5.8% of GDP [3]. CBO projects deficits averaging 6.1% of GDP over the next decade, reaching $3.1 trillion annually by 2036 [3].

Half a Century of Accumulation

In 1976, total federal debt was $654 billion. Adjusted for inflation, that is approximately $3.6 trillion in 2026 dollars — less than one-tenth of today's figure [4]. The trajectory from there to $37.6 trillion was not steady. It accelerated in distinct phases, each driven by specific policy choices and economic events.

Ronald Reagan (1981–1989) inherited a debt of $1 trillion and left office with it approaching $3 trillion, a 186% increase. The Economic Recovery Tax Act of 1981 slashed income tax rates by 25%, while defense spending surged. Revenue as a share of GDP fell; spending did not [5].

George H.W. Bush (1989–1993) saw the debt grow by another $1.6 trillion, driven partly by the savings and loan crisis and a recession.

Bill Clinton (1993–2001) is the only modern president to preside over budget surpluses, driven by the 1993 tax increase, spending restraint under the Balanced Budget Act of 1997, and the late-1990s economic boom. The debt-to-GDP ratio fell from 64% to 54% [2].

George W. Bush (2001–2009) added $5.85 trillion, a 101% increase. The 2001 and 2003 tax cuts, two wars, and the Medicare Part D prescription drug benefit all expanded deficits before the 2008 financial crisis triggered emergency spending [5].

Barack Obama (2009–2017) added $8.34 trillion in dollar terms, the largest absolute increase of any president at the time. The American Recovery and Reinvestment Act, continued war spending, and depressed tax revenue from the Great Recession drove the increase. However, the annual deficit shrank from $1.4 trillion in 2009 to $585 billion in 2016 [5].

Donald Trump's first term (2017–2021) added $8.2 trillion in just four years. The Tax Cuts and Jobs Act of 2017 reduced federal revenue, while COVID-19 relief legislation — the CARES Act and subsequent packages — added trillions in emergency spending [5].

Joe Biden (2021–2025) added approximately $6.2 trillion, driven by the American Rescue Plan, the Inflation Reduction Act, and continued elevated spending levels [5].

The pattern is bipartisan. Republicans consistently cut taxes without proportionally cutting spending. Democrats consistently expand programs without raising sufficient revenue to pay for them. The result is a structural deficit that persists regardless of which party controls Congress or the White House.

Who Owns America's Debt?

The popular image of America "owing money to China" is misleading. Foreign governments hold roughly 25% of publicly held debt, or about $9.1 trillion [6]. Japan is the largest foreign holder at approximately $1.1 trillion, followed by China at $800 billion and the United Kingdom at $700 billion [6]. China's holdings have actually declined significantly from their peak above $1.3 trillion in 2013.

The Federal Reserve holds approximately $4.6 trillion, or about 13% of total debt [7]. This figure is down from a peak near $9 trillion in 2022, as the Fed has been allowing bonds to mature without replacement — a process known as quantitative tightening.

The largest category of holders is domestic: American mutual funds, pension funds, banks, insurance companies, state and local governments, and individual investors collectively own the majority of publicly held debt [7]. In a real sense, the national debt is money Americans owe to Americans. When the government pays interest on Treasury bonds held in a retirement account, that money flows to an American household.

This ownership structure matters for the sustainability debate. Countries that borrow primarily in their own currency from their own citizens face different risks than those dependent on foreign creditors. Argentina borrows in dollars it cannot print. Greece borrowed in euros it could not print. The United States borrows in dollars it issues.

The Interest Bill

The cost of carrying $37.6 trillion in debt has become the fastest-growing line item in the federal budget. Net interest payments reached an annualized rate of $1.23 trillion in late 2025, up from $533 billion in early 2021 [8]. In the first quarter of fiscal year 2026, interest payments of $270 billion exceeded defense spending of $267 billion for the same period [9].

Source: FRED / Federal Reserve

Data as of Oct 1, 2025CSV

This represents a structural shift. For most of the post-war era, interest costs consumed between 1% and 3% of GDP. They now exceed 3.3% and CBO projects they will reach 6.9% of GDP by 2056 [3]. As a share of federal revenue, interest payments have risen to 18.6%, above the previous high set in 1991 [10].

The rise is driven by two factors: the sheer volume of debt and the interest rate environment. The 10-year Treasury yield, a benchmark for government borrowing costs, averaged below 2% from 2011 through 2021. It now sits at 4.3% [11]. As older, low-rate debt matures and is refinanced at current rates, the average interest cost on outstanding debt continues to climb — it reached 3.35% for marketable Treasury securities as of February 2026 [12].

Source: FRED / Federal Reserve Board

Data as of Mar 19, 2026CSV

Source: Treasury Fiscal Data

Data as of Feb 28, 2026CSV

Over the next decade, CBO projects interest payments will total $13.8 trillion — $4.3 trillion more than projected defense spending over the same period [10]. By 2038, interest costs are projected to surpass total discretionary spending, which includes defense, education, transportation, and every other program Congress funds annually [10].

The Broader Economic Scorecard

The debt does not exist in a vacuum. It sits within an economy that, by several headline measures, appears robust.

Real GDP grew to $31.4 trillion (annualized) in Q4 2025, up from $21.7 trillion in late 2019 [13]. The unemployment rate stood at 4.4% in February 2026 — elevated from the sub-3.5% lows of 2023 but still within the range economists consider full employment [14].

Source: FRED / Bureau of Economic Analysis

Data as of Oct 1, 2025CSV

Source: FRED / Bureau of Labor Statistics

Data as of Feb 1, 2026CSV

Average hourly earnings for private-sector workers reached $37.32 in February 2026, up from $34.47 in January 2024 — a nominal increase of about 8.3% over two years [15]. The Consumer Price Index stood at 327.46, reflecting cumulative inflation of roughly 5.3% over the same period [16].

Source: FRED / Bureau of Labor Statistics

Data as of Feb 1, 2026CSV

Source: BLS / Bureau of Labor Statistics

Data as of Feb 1, 2026CSV

The gap between nominal wage growth and inflation suggests real wages have been growing modestly — roughly 2-3% over the past two years. But this masks the damage from 2021-2023, when inflation outpaced wages for nearly two consecutive years, eroding purchasing power that has not been fully recovered. Since February 2020, home prices have increased 45% and rents 33% [17]. These costs — along with grocery prices that remain roughly 25% above pre-pandemic levels — are not erased from household budgets by a return to 2-3% annual inflation.

This is the "vibecession" — a term coined by economic commentator Kyla Scanlon in 2022 to describe the gap between macroeconomic indicators and lived experience [17]. Nearly three-fifths of Americans believe the economy is in a recession despite positive GDP growth, according to a 2025 Guardian-Harris poll [17]. The Conference Board's Expectations Index has hovered below its recession-warning threshold for nearly a year [17].

The disconnect is sharpest along income lines. Among households earning above $75,000, more than 45% report feeling better about the economy than a year ago. Among those below that threshold, only 22% say the same [17]. Total consumer spending is now more driven by the top 20% of earners than at any point in recent history, according to Moody's [17].

The S&P 500 was trading near 6,500 in late March 2026 [18], reflecting strong corporate earnings but also the concentration of economic gains among asset holders. For the roughly half of Americans who own no stock, the market's performance is largely irrelevant to their financial reality.

The Conservative Case: Fiscal Reckoning

The argument that current debt levels represent a genuine threat to American prosperity draws on specific mechanisms, not just large numbers.

Crowding out. The Peter G. Peterson Foundation and economists including John Cochrane of the Hoover Institution argue that massive government borrowing competes with the private sector for capital [19]. When the Treasury issues $2 trillion in new debt annually, it absorbs savings that would otherwise fund business investment, new factories, and R&D. The result, in this framework, is lower productivity growth and therefore lower wages over time. The Peterson Foundation estimates that higher federal borrowing has already contributed to elevated interest rates across the economy, raising costs for mortgages, auto loans, and business credit [19].

Generational equity. The Committee for a Responsible Federal Budget (CRFB) frames the debt as a transfer of wealth from younger and future Americans to current beneficiaries. Today's spending is financed by tomorrow's taxpayers. Each year's deficit represents a claim on future revenue — money that will go to bondholders rather than schools, infrastructure, or tax relief [20]. A 2025 collection of essays organized by the Peterson Foundation brought together economists and historians to argue that sustained debt at this level threatens U.S. economic strength, dollar dominance, and global leadership [19].

The post-WWII comparison. After World War II, the debt-to-GDP ratio peaked at 106% in 1946. But the circumstances that allowed rapid deleveraging — a demographic baby boom, America's position as the only undamaged industrial economy, decades of sustained GDP growth above 4%, and financial repression that held interest rates below inflation — are unlikely to recur. CBO projects debt will surpass even that wartime peak by 2029 [3]. Budget Committee Chairman Jody Arrington has called the CBO's long-term outlook a confirmation that "Washington's spending addiction is bankrupting our children and grandchildren" [21].

Credit rating risk. Fitch Ratings downgraded U.S. government debt from AAA in 2023, citing "a steady deterioration in standards of governance." S&P had already stripped the U.S. of its top rating in 2011. Further downgrades would raise borrowing costs — creating a feedback loop where higher interest payments produce larger deficits, which produce more borrowing, which raises interest rates further.

The Progressive Case: Sustainability and Sovereignty

Economists who argue against debt alarmism offer a distinct analytical framework, grounded in the mechanics of sovereign currency issuance.

Sovereign currency privilege. Stephanie Kelton, professor at Stony Brook University and author of The Deficit Myth, argues that a government borrowing in its own currency cannot involuntarily default [22]. The United States issues dollars. It can always make interest payments on dollar-denominated bonds. The binding constraint on government spending is not solvency but inflation: if spending outstrips the economy's productive capacity, the result is rising prices, not bounced checks. "We should think of the government's spending as self-financing since it pays its bills by sending new money into the economy," Kelton has written [22].

Interest rate dynamics. Paul Krugman, Nobel laureate in economics, has noted the puzzle of Japan borrowing at near-zero interest rates with 230% debt-to-GDP while Italy — with a lower ratio — paid five times as much [23]. The difference, Kelton and Krugman agree, is that Japan borrows in yen it issues, while Italy borrowed in euros it could not print. The United States, like Japan, controls its own currency. Krugman has argued for deficit-financed public investment on the grounds that low real interest rates mean the debt service from such programs is manageable [23].

Austerity is self-defeating. The experience of Europe after 2010 provides a cautionary tale. Greece, Spain, and Portugal imposed severe austerity in response to debt crises. The result was deeper recessions, higher unemployment, and — in Greece's case — a debt-to-GDP ratio that actually increased because the economy contracted faster than the debt. Cutting spending during a downturn reduces tax revenue and increases safety-net costs, potentially worsening the fiscal position it was meant to improve [23].

Debt-to-GDP, not absolute debt. The absolute number — $37.6 trillion — is meaningless in isolation. What matters is the debt relative to the economy that supports it. The U.S. economy produces $31.4 trillion annually. A $37.6 trillion debt on a $31 trillion economy is a different proposition than a $37.6 trillion debt on a $10 trillion economy. GDP growth itself helps reduce the debt burden over time, which is why the ratio fell steadily from 106% in 1946 to 31% in 1981 without the government ever "paying off" the debt [2].

Japan's Example: 230% and Still Standing

Japan's gross government debt exceeds 230% of GDP — nearly double America's ratio [24]. It has maintained this level for over a decade without a debt crisis, currency collapse, or loss of market access. The reasons are instructive.

First, 88% of Japanese government debt is held domestically [24]. The Bank of Japan alone holds 46% of all government bonds. Japanese insurance companies, banks, and pension funds hold most of the rest. There is no large class of foreign creditors who might suddenly dump Japanese bonds.

Second, Japan borrows at extraordinarily low interest rates. Decades of deflation and near-zero monetary policy have kept yields on Japanese government bonds close to zero, meaning the carrying cost of the debt is modest despite its enormous size.

Third, Japan's net debt is considerably lower than its gross debt. The Japanese government holds substantial assets — foreign exchange reserves, equity stakes, and pension fund assets — that offset a significant portion of gross liabilities. Net liabilities stand at roughly 119% of GDP [24].

The Japan analogy has limits. Japan has experienced three decades of stagnant growth, persistent deflation, and demographic decline. Whether this constitutes a successful model is debatable. The country's debt burden has not triggered a crisis, but it has arguably constrained fiscal flexibility and contributed to an extended period of economic malaise.

Critics like the Cato Institute's Scott Sumner argue that Japan's experience shows precisely the costs of sustained high debt: a trapped monetary policy, an economy that cannot generate sustained inflation or growth, and a society aging into fiscal obligations it may struggle to meet [25]. The question is whether the United States — with different demographics, higher growth potential, and the world's reserve currency — would follow a similar trajectory or a worse one.

The Dollar's Reserve Currency Shield

The U.S. dollar accounts for approximately 59% of global foreign exchange reserves, down from 72% in 2001 but still far ahead of any competitor [26]. The euro sits around 20%, the yen at 5-6%, and the Chinese yuan below 3%. This status gives the United States what French finance minister Valéry Giscard d'Estaing famously called an "exorbitant privilege" — the ability to borrow in a currency that every central bank in the world needs to hold.

De-dollarization has become a talking point, particularly among BRICS nations. China and Russia have shifted bilateral trade to yuan and rubles. Saudi Arabia has signaled openness to pricing some oil sales in other currencies [26]. But the practical barriers to displacing the dollar remain formidable. No other currency has the depth, liquidity, legal infrastructure, or network effects to serve as a genuine alternative. India's foreign minister has publicly stated that India "has never been for de-dollarization" and that "there is no proposal to have a BRICS currency" [26].

The more relevant question may not be whether the dollar loses reserve status entirely — that appears unlikely in the near term — but whether its share continues to erode gradually, reducing America's ability to borrow cheaply. A drop from 59% to 45% of global reserves would not end dollar dominance, but it would meaningfully increase the interest rate the U.S. government pays, at a time when interest costs are already consuming a record share of the budget.

DOGE and the Efficiency Question

The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), led by Elon Musk, entered 2025 with the stated goal of cutting up to $2 trillion from the federal budget [27]. That target was subsequently revised to $1 trillion, then $150 billion. By year's end, DOGE claimed $160 billion in savings — a figure that independent analyses have challenged [27].

The Cato Institute, generally sympathetic to spending cuts, noted that DOGE produced the largest peacetime workforce reduction on record — 271,000 federal employees, a 9% decline — but that overall federal spending continued to rise [27]. The reason is straightforward: federal employee salaries and benefits represent a small fraction of total spending. The government spent $7.6 trillion in the first 11 months of 2025, approximately $248 billion more than the same period in 2024 [27].

Max Stier of the Partnership for Public Service estimated that the costs of firing, rehiring, and placing workers on paid leave actually cost taxpayers roughly $135 billion [27]. CNN reported that cuts to federal agencies hampered emergency preparedness, threat monitoring, cybersecurity, and consular services [27].

The DOGE experience illustrates a fundamental arithmetic problem that applies equally to Republican "waste, fraud, and abuse" rhetoric and Democratic promises to "make the rich pay their fair share." Discretionary spending — the category Congress directly controls and where cuts are politically feasible — represents roughly 30% of the federal budget. The other 70% is mandatory spending: Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and interest on the debt [28]. These programs run on autopilot, determined by eligibility rules and demographics, not annual appropriations.

What Would Actually Balance the Budget

The Tax Policy Center has stated plainly: "Balancing the federal budget in 10 years without raising taxes is impossible" [29]. The CRFB has modeled the scenario of balancing the budget while protecting Social Security and Medicare, and found it would require cutting all other government spending by 45% — or all discretionary spending by 85% [29]. That would mean gutting defense, veterans' benefits, federal law enforcement, national parks, scientific research, and every other non-entitlement function of government.

The math runs in reverse as well. Balancing the budget through tax increases alone would require raising effective tax rates to levels not seen since the 1950s — a period when the top marginal rate was 91% but effective rates were far lower due to deductions, exemptions, and a narrower tax base.

Any honest plan to stabilize the debt would require some combination of: raising the Social Security retirement age, means-testing Medicare benefits, increasing the payroll tax cap, raising income or consumption taxes, and cutting defense spending. Every one of these proposals is politically toxic. Both parties have explicitly promised not to cut Social Security or Medicare benefits. Republicans have pledged not to raise taxes. Democrats have pledged not to cut benefits. The result is a bipartisan conspiracy of silence around the only policies that would actually address the problem.

The Bipartisan Policy Center notes that both parties have been "reluctant to move Social Security legislation because doing so would come with political pain: raising taxes or cutting benefits" [30]. This reluctance is rational for individual politicians — the electoral costs of honesty are immediate while the fiscal consequences of inaction are deferred to future officeholders.

The Debt Ceiling: Theater or Constraint?

The debt ceiling — a statutory limit on how much the Treasury can borrow — was reinstated at $36.1 trillion in January 2025, and the Treasury has been using "extraordinary measures" to avoid breaching it [31]. The X Date — when those measures run out and the government would face default — was projected for later in 2025.

Despite recurring crises, the debt ceiling has never prevented Congress from spending money it has already authorized. It is a cap on borrowing to pay for spending that has already occurred, not a constraint on future commitments. Refusing to raise it would not reduce the deficit; it would simply prevent the government from paying bills it has already incurred — including interest on existing debt, Social Security checks, and military salaries.

The debt ceiling has been raised or suspended 102 times since 1917. Both parties have used it as leverage: Republicans forced spending cuts in the 2011 and 2023 negotiations; Democrats have similarly conditioned votes on policy concessions. The 2011 standoff led to the first-ever U.S. credit rating downgrade by S&P. The 2023 Fiscal Responsibility Act suspended the ceiling until January 2025 in exchange for spending caps [31].

Whether the debt ceiling is a useful fiscal discipline mechanism or dangerous political theater depends on one's view of the alternatives. Without it, there is no structural check on borrowing apart from the bond market's willingness to lend. With it, the country periodically threatens to default on its own obligations — a threat that, if carried out, would cause global financial chaos far exceeding the fiscal problems it purports to address.

What the Data Cannot Settle

The fundamental disagreement about the national debt is not primarily empirical. Both sides largely agree on the numbers: the debt is large and growing, interest costs are rising, entitlement spending is on autopilot, and neither party has a credible plan to change the trajectory.

The disagreement is about what these facts mean — and that question involves judgments about risk, time horizons, and values that data alone cannot resolve.

Conservative fiscal hawks like the CRFB and the Peterson Foundation treat the long-term CBO projections as a clear warning: interest payments consuming 7% of GDP by mid-century would crowd out other priorities and constrain the government's ability to respond to future crises [19]. If a major recession, war, or pandemic struck when debt was already at 150% of GDP, the fiscal space for emergency response would be severely limited. Their strongest argument is that the costs of the current trajectory compound over time, and the longer action is delayed, the more painful the adjustment becomes.

Progressive economists counter that CBO projections assume current law, which rarely holds — Congress regularly changes tax and spending policy. They note that the CBO's own projections have repeatedly overestimated future deficits because they cannot account for future economic growth or policy changes [23]. The strongest version of this argument holds that the United States has been warned about debt crises for decades — by the same institutions, using the same models — and the predicted consequences (spiking interest rates, loss of market confidence, currency collapse) have not materialized. Each time rates were supposed to rise because of the debt, they fell or remained stable.

There is, however, a version of this argument that both sides should find uncomfortable: the fact that a crisis has not yet occurred does not prove it cannot. Interest rates remained low partly because of specific conditions — secular stagnation, global savings gluts, central bank asset purchases — that may not persist. The U.S. has not tested the limits of sovereign borrowing capacity. Japan at 230% of GDP has not collapsed, but it has also experienced a generation of economic stagnation that few Americans would consider acceptable.

The honest answer is that no one knows precisely where the line is — what debt-to-GDP ratio would trigger a genuine fiscal crisis for a sovereign currency issuer with the world's deepest capital markets. CBO projects the ratio will reach 175% by 2056 [3]. Whether that level is sustainable depends on variables — interest rates, growth rates, inflation, global demand for dollar assets — that cannot be reliably forecast 30 years out.

What can be said with confidence is this: the United States is running deficits of 6% of GDP during a period of economic expansion and low unemployment, a combination that is historically unusual and structurally concerning regardless of one's view of debt sustainability. And the two mechanisms that would address it — higher taxes and lower benefits — remain precisely the policies that neither party is willing to propose.

The debt clock keeps ticking. The question is whether anyone in Washington is willing to tell voters what stopping it would actually require.