America’s Spam. A tin of meat also played a part in Trump’s defeat in the mid-term elections

Petrol prices, house prices, rising fertiliser costs, and spiralling healthcare costs. All key factors in explaining the Republicans’ crushing defeat in the mid-term elections that have reshaped American politics. But whilst it is true that the price of eggs had thrown Joe Biden’s presidency into crisis, it could be said that, ultimately, it was a tin of meat that brought down Donald Trump. Not just any tin, but a piece of American history that helps us understand, better than many opinion polls, what is going on in that part of the country that often escapes the headlines and political analysis. The part that struggles to make ends meet and put a decent meal on the table. The part characterised by immense poverty coexisting with boundless wealth in the world’s most prosperous country.

The tin in question is Spam, a mixture of pork and ham, processed for long-term preservation in tins that have been lining the shelves of American supermarkets and the cupboards of the most disadvantaged families since 1937. When sales of Spam rise, as happened in the years following the 2008–2009 economic crisis, it is not a good sign. A seasoned politician like Ted Cruz, a senator from Texas, knows this only too well. Following the 3 November election, he remained the only Republican in a senior position to survive amongst the thirty-two million inhabitants of a state that has turned its back on the party that once dominated it, choosing instead to put its trust in the Democrats. In the immediate aftermath, on his podcast, Cruz launched a scathing indictment of his own party, which he accused of failing to understand what is happening in the country: “The main problem – the cost of living – is as real as ever,” said the senator. Too many politicians have underestimated it; they have failed to grasp the situation. They have merely pointed to the macroeconomic figures: booming stock markets, median income at an all-time high and poverty at an all-time low. These figures are true, but they do not tell the whole story. Here are some much more concrete statistics that are closer to people’s everyday lives. Spam recorded record sales, reaching 113 million tins last year: a quantity almost equal to that sold during the entire Second World War. This year, 29 per cent of Americans have used ‘buy now, pay later’ schemes to buy groceries; a figure that, just two years ago, was half that.”

Setting aside Cruz’s attempt to downplay the war against Iran – of which he is a staunch supporter – and some difficulties in verifying the senator’s figures (Hormel, the company that produces Spam, does not release detailed figures on the tins), the analysis has some merit. Those 340-gram tins of gelatinous meat, which sell for $3.50–$4 in American supermarkets, are a lifeline for many families and a powerful indicator of hardship. They are also part of the country’s popular culture.

Spam was launched by Hormel on 5 July 1937, with a name created as an acronym for ‘spiced ham’ and a recipe – which has remained virtually unchanged for nearly a century – involving the processing of a mixture of pork shoulder, ham, potato starch, water, salt, sugar and preservatives. From Austin in Minnesota – the town that promotes itself as ‘Spamtown’ – Hormel supplies 41,000 tonnes of the product to the American market every year. The entire local economy revolves around Hormel’s production, which, amongst other things, requires the slaughter of 19,000 pigs a day to produce the company’s wide range of food products.

The Spam boom began during the Second World War, when American soldiers’ rucksacks were filled with tins, which were then distributed across Europe, particularly in besieged Britain where food was rationed: Margaret Thatcher recalled the years when a tin of Spam was considered ‘a delicacy’ on British tables. Huge stocks of pork from Minnesota also found their way to the Soviet allies, who were themselves grappling with supply problems. “In the army,” wrote Nikita Khrushchev in his memoirs, “there were many jokes circulating – some of them rather crude – about American Spam. But it was tasty. Without Spam, we would not have been able to feed our army. We had lost our most fertile lands.” The Ministry of War supplied Spam mainly to Asia, to feed the military and local populations: soldiers had so much of it at their disposal that they often even used it to lubricate their weapons. Even today, the Pacific war zones remain among Hormel’s best markets outside the US, whilst in very American Hawaii it is considered a traditional dish.

Its success continued after the war, and over time Spam became synonymous with a cheap dish, but also one that was excessive and intrusive. This is why the waves of unwanted emails that try to clog up our inboxes now end up in a folder called, precisely, ‘spam’. Here, the story becomes a cross between American and British pop culture. Because in 1970, Spam took centre stage in an episode of ‘Monty Python’s Flying Circus’, the hugely popular TV series. The famous British comedy troupe created one of their surreal gags by inventing a restaurant serving nothing but Spam-based dishes, and they also composed a song dedicated to the American tinned meat. These were also the years when the first computer networks of what would become the internet were emerging, and the nerds who populated the early versions of email in academic circles were die-hard fans of Monty Python. And when, years later, too many unwanted messages began circulating on their networks, they christened them ‘spam’, in honour of their idols’ television sketch.

However, the popularity of Hormel’s product goes hand in hand with the fact that it has also become a staple for those who cannot afford other foodstuffs. Over the years, Spam has therefore come to symbolise hardship and poverty. When Cruz warns Republicans and urges them to take note of the rise in Spam sales, he is pointing to the lesser-known side of America—the one that, if it decides to vote, can cause electoral earthquakes. Or blue tsunamis, as happened in the mid-term elections.

Cruz is technically correct when he states that ‘poverty in America is at an all-time low’, but the picture is complex, and it is not even straightforward to define what it means in today’s United States to be ‘poor’ and forced to buy more Spam than usual. According to the Census Bureau, which published its annual report on income and poverty in mid-September, in 2025 there were 34.5 million Americans living below the official poverty line, around ten per cent of the population. This is the lowest level ever recorded. Median household income rose to $87,460, the highest since records began in 1967. Among Hispanics, the poverty rate fell to 13.9 per cent – also a record low – whilst among African Americans it stood at 17.3 per cent. Even the indicators of so-called ‘American despair’ have improved: deaths from drug overdoses, which had exceeded 111,000 in 2023, have fallen to around 68,000 a year, and life expectancy has returned to pre-Covid levels.

The problem is what is being measured. The official threshold is a concept devised in the 1960s. A Social Security economist, Mollie Orshansky, took the cost of a basic food basket and multiplied it by three, because at that time families spent a third of their income on food. The method has remained the same, adjusted only for inflation. Today, a household comprising two adults and two children is considered poor if it earns less than $32,649 a year. It does not take into account how much they pay in rent, how much they spend on medical care, or whether they receive meal vouchers. This is why, for the past fifteen years or so, the Census Bureau has also calculated a supplementary measure, which factors in public assistance and essential expenses. And here, the record lows disappear. The number of people living in poverty stands at 44.4 million, or 13.1 per cent, exactly the same as the previous year. The reason is that this threshold does not track the price index, but rather what a normal life actually costs. In 2025, prices rose by an average of 2.6 per cent, whilst the cost of food, clothing, housing and utility bills increased by a greater margin. Among those living in rented accommodation, almost one in four is poor. Medical expenses alone have pushed 7.7 million people below the poverty line. There are 9.7 million children living in poverty.

Even those who keep the most vulnerable part of the country afloat bear witness to the struggle faced by ‘Spam Country’ – the America that subsists on cheap pork shoulder. Social Security prevents 28.8 million Americans, mostly elderly, from falling into poverty. Tax credits for families keep six million above the poverty line, whilst SNAP food vouchers help more than three million. In reality, SNAP (the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Programme) reaches far more Americans – over 40 million: for most, it is not enough to lift them out of poverty, but it makes poverty less harsh. However, it is precisely these programmes that have been targeted by the budget bill pushed through by Trump in July 2025, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. According to the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, a progressive think tank in Washington, since then around five million people – 12 per cent of recipients – have been removed from SNAP, and from January 2027 new restrictive eligibility criteria will come into force for Medicaid, the public health insurance scheme for those on low incomes.

The figures cited by the Republicans reflect the situation in 2025 – a year that ended before the war with Iran and the subsequent rises in petrol prices and the cost of living, and before most of the cuts had taken effect. There are no definitive figures yet for 2026, but all the evidence suggests conditions have worsened. Inflation has risen again; in September it stood at 3.7 per cent. To say that poverty levels are at an all-time low is to tell only part of the story. Those excluded from federal programmes still have to fill their cupboards. And a tin of Spam costs less than four dollars.

It is also in the light of this reality that the figures on electoral shifts recorded in the mid-term elections should be interpreted. For example, the effects of living in ‘Spam Country’ can be glimpsed behind the 35-point swing among Hispanics with low levels of education, who only two years ago had shifted towards the Republicans and have now abruptly reversed course. Or behind the 11-point lead that Trump had gained amongst African Americans and has now lost. The war is certainly a factor, and in the case of Hispanics, so too are immigration policies, but it is significant to note that the most significant shifts are occurring in places where poverty is most acute.

The most telling example is Mississippi, a state that is normally a deep red (Trump won it by a 23 per cent margin in 2024) but which has suddenly shifted towards the Democrats’ blue, with striking figures such as the 45-point loss suffered by the Republicans among local young people. Mississippi ranks last among the fifty states in terms of per capita GDP; it has the highest poverty rates and the lowest average household income. Here, the voting rules are among the most complex in the country and discourage participation, particularly amongst the most disadvantaged sections of the population – those who find it hardest to produce valid identification and to travel to polling stations. Yet the blue tsunami reached here too, bringing Scott Colom to Washington – the first Democrat elected to the Senate in Mississippi since 1982 and the first Black person the state has sent to Congress in quite some time. Before Colom, it was Blanche Bruce’s turn: it was 1875, and Bruce went on to take a seat in the Senate after being born into slavery on a plantation.

The America of AI tycoons and trillionaires like Elon Musk is a distant echo here, as is the New York scene where people vote for Zohran Mamdani and then do their ‘wellness’ shopping at Citarella or Eataly. Forty-five per cent of Mississippi’s food market is controlled by Walmart’s low-cost supermarkets, whose main local competitors are Piggly Wiggly and Food Giant. And Spam – the tinned meat that this time voted against Trump – is never missing from any of their shelves.

340-gram tins of meat, on sale for 3.5–4 dollars, which are a lifeline for many families and a powerful indicator of hardship

Monty Python’s surreal sketch about the restaurant that served only Spam-based dishes. Among their fans, ‘spam’ became synonymous with unwanted messages

The most emblematic example of ‘Spam Country’ is Mississippi. Here, the ‘blue tsunami’ brought Scott Colom into the Senate, the first Democrat since 1982.

Ted Cruz, a senator from Texas, said that Republicans had underestimated poverty and the cost of living: “Spam has recorded record sales”