Babies as Business Owners? Big Bucks Bigger Blunders: DOGE Exposes SBA Loan Scandal

Imagine a 9-month-old baby securing a $100,000 loan or a 157-year-old entrepreneur pocketing $36,000 to keep their business afloat. Sounds absurd, right? Yet, according to Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), this is part of a jaw-dropping discovery: during 2020-2021, the U.S. Small Business Administration (SBA) approved $312 million in loans to children under 11 and $333 million to people over 115. How did this happen? Who cashed the checks? Let’s break it down simply.

What Are SBA Loans?

SBA loans are designed to help small businesses start, grow, or recover from disasters—like the COVID-19 pandemic. The SBA doesn’t hand out cash directly; it partners with banks to guarantee loans, making it easier for businesses to borrow. To get one, you need a legit business, a Social Security number (SSN), and a plan. It’s supposed to be straightforward: prove you’re real, and you might get funding. But during the pandemic, that system went haywire.

Babies as Business Owners?

DOGE uncovered 5,593 loans totaling $312 million linked to kids 11 and under. Social media posts, like one from X user @itzjoshuajake, claim the youngest was a 9-month-old with a $100,000 loan, though official reports stick to the $312 million figure without confirming that extreme. Either way, it’s wild. These loans—part of pandemic relief like the Paycheck Protection Program (PPP) and Economic Injury Disaster Loans (EIDL)—used SSNs that didn’t match the listed names. Translation? Fraud.

How could a toddler get a loan? They didn’t. Scammers likely stole kids’ SSNs—maybe from parents or data breaches—and applied under fake business names. The SBA, swamped during the crisis, didn’t double-check enough. The money? Probably deposited into accounts controlled by the fraudsters, not diaper funds. The SBA admits over 5,500 of these loans slipped through, and DOGE’s digging into the mess. Who cashed the checks? No names yet—just a trail of identity theft.

The 120-Year-Old “Entrepreneurs”

Then there’s the other end of the age spectrum: 3,095 loans worth $333 million went to people over 115, including one flagged as 157 years old getting $36,000. In 2020, the oldest living person was 117, so 157 is a stretch—unless we’ve got secret immortals running startups. DOGE says these SSNs were listed as “alive” in Social Security records, but the names didn’t match either.

What’s the deal? People don’t live that long—120 is now the SBA’s cutoff for a reason. This points to outdated records or more fraud. When someone dies, their death isn’t always reported, leaving their SSN “active.” Scammers could grab these, slap them on fake applications, and cash in. Or it’s typos—like 1900 instead of 1990—but mismatched names lean toward deliberate scams. A 2023 report found 18.9 million SSNs tied to people over 100 in the system, though only a fraction get payments. Here, though, loans flowed because pandemic urgency trumped caution.

How Did This Slip Through?

The pandemic was chaos. The government rushed out billions in relief—PPP alone was $953 billion—to save businesses fast. Speed beat scrutiny, and fraudsters feasted. Weak identity checks, stolen SSNs, and sham companies dodged detection. DOGE’s exposing this now, and the SBA’s tightening up—birth dates are required, and anyone under 18 or over 120 is blocked. But the damage? Over $645 million to “borrowers” who shouldn’t have qualified.

Who Got the Money?

Not the kids or the “centenarians.” Scammers—identity thieves or organized rings—likely pocketed it, funneling cash through fake accounts. DOGE and the SBA are investigating, but no public list of culprits exists yet. It’s a slow untangling of a massive fraud web spun during a crisis.

The Takeaway

This isn’t about babies launching startups or great-great-grandparents pivoting businesses—it’s a wake-up call. Big government programs, when rushed, can bleed money to fraud. The SBA’s on it, DOGE’s shining a light, but the “who” behind the checks remains murky. For now, it’s a simple lesson: haste makes waste—and sometimes, a $312 million diaper bill.