So… apparently, the Social Security Administration is paying checks to the undead. Or so the rumor mill says. Elon Musk cracked a tweet about 150-year-olds showing up in the government database, and boom—suddenly, everyone thinks America’s pension system is bankrolling ghosts from the 1800s.
Except, no. It’s not.
This isn’t some grand conspiracy. It’s not even that juicy. What we’re looking at is a boring but important tale of bad data and even older code—COBOL, to be precise. The same code your grandparents’ banks probably still run on. The drama? It’s less about fraud and more about legacy spaghetti code that just won’t die.
Let’s Clear the Air First
No, the government isn’t sending monthly Social Security checks to someone born in 1875. That year gets tossed around a lot, but it’s not some sinister placeholder for zombies cashing in. It’s usually just a bad entry—a glitch from a time when people were converting paper records to digital systems with duct tape and prayer.
The real kicker? Social Security numbers didn’t even exist before 1936. So if you see a “living” person born before that, it’s safe to assume the database is confused—not the person miraculously alive.
In fact, a deep dive into pre-1920 records showed 18.9 million entries. Only 44,000 of those folks are still getting checks—and those are likely centenarians, not vampires. So yeah, the system’s not perfect. But it’s not hemorrhaging money to dead people either.
Why This Keeps Happening: Meet COBOL
Let’s talk about the dinosaur in the room: COBOL.
This isn’t just some forgotten relic. COBOL was born in 1959—back when Eisenhower was president and punch cards were cutting-edge. And it’s still running large chunks of our government systems. Why? Because rewriting millions of lines of tested, running code is risky, expensive, and nobody wants to be the one who breaks Social Security.
So when you see weird stuff—like a 146-year-old on file—it’s not fraud. It’s the result of decades-old systems running with duct-taped patches and incomplete records. And those patches? They’re held together by a shrinking group of gray-haired COBOL coders who are quietly keeping the lights on.
So… What’s the Fix?
Well, here’s the fun part. Everyone agrees COBOL is outdated. Everyone agrees it needs an upgrade. And yet—almost nobody wants to learn it.
Young coders want to play with Rust, Python, machine learning, not babysit 60-year-old syntax. Meanwhile, the older experts who know COBOL? They’re retiring—or worse, already gone. It’s a ticking time bomb.
One possible fix? Machine learning-assisted code translation. The dream is: take a messy blob of COBOL and convert it into something modern without rewriting every line by hand. Sounds cool, but it’s not quite plug-and-play yet. Until then, it’s patch, pray, repeat.
Bigger Picture: Legacy Code Everywhere
This isn’t just a Social Security thing. Banks, airlines, even some hospitals still rely on old code. And when those systems fail—flights get grounded, accounts get frozen, patients get misfiled. The scariest part? Nobody has a clean map of what’s where. We’re flying blind with ancient systems stitched together over decades.
So, yeah—laugh at the idea of 150-year-olds collecting checks. But maybe also panic a little. Because what’s really happening isn’t fraud. It’s infrastructure rot. And unlike the roads and bridges we at least see falling apart, this one’s invisible. Until it isn’t.
Final Thought
If you want to fix the system, mocking COBOL won’t cut it. We need to invest in training, modernization, and yes—giving a damn about the stuff that actually keeps society functioning. Because when those 150-year-olds stop being just a punchline, and start being the canary in the code mine? We’ll wish we’d acted sooner.
What do you think: Is it time for the government to ditch COBOL for good, or are we just swapping one mess for another?