In 2016, the United States Treasury made a historic announcement that sent ripples across the nation: Harriet Tubman, the legendary abolitionist and Underground Railroad conductor, was set to replace Andrew Jackson on the front of the $20 bill. It was hailed as a long-overdue rectification of history—a move to honor a woman who risked everything for freedom over a president whose legacy is marred by the forced removal of Native Americans.
Yet, nearly a decade later, the $20 bill still features Jackson.
When people see news of political figures—including former President Donald Trump—suggesting that their own signatures or likenesses belong on federal currency, a common question arises: If a signature can be changed with the stroke of a pen, why is it so difficult to put Harriet Tubman on the $20?
To understand the delay, we have to look past the symbols and into the intricate machinery of the U.S. government.
The Myth of the “Stroke of a Pen”
There is a prevailing belief that the President of the United States can unilaterally decide what appears on U.S. currency. While the executive branch holds significant influence, the process is far more bureaucratic than it appears.
The redesign of currency is governed by the Department of the Treasury, specifically the Bureau of Engraving and Printing (BEP). Because currency redesigns involve complex anti-counterfeiting measures, physical security features, and international testing, the process is treated as a matter of national security, not just graphic design. Even when a mandate is handed down, the “lead time” for a new note is often measured in years, not months.
Why Jackson and Why Tubman?
To understand the roadblock, we must understand the incumbents. Andrew Jackson has appeared on the $20 bill since 1928. His presence is a remnant of an era when currency choices were made by a small group of white, male officials.
Harriet Tubman, by contrast, represents a shift toward a more inclusive national identity. However, changing a bill isn’t just about social progress; it’s about the “Design Cycle.”
Currency is rotated based on security needs. The $100 bill is redesigned, then the $50, then the $20. During the Obama administration, the Treasury Department prioritized the $10 bill for a redesign due to security concerns. When they pivoted to the $20, political shifts in the White House occurred.
The Political Tug-of-War
The delay in the Tubman $20 is a case study in how cultural symbols become political footballs.
During the Trump administration, the Treasury Department effectively sidelined the Tubman initiative. Former Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin stated that the focus was on “security features” first and that the portrait change was secondary—or even unnecessary. This signaled a clear preference for maintaining the status quo.
When the Biden administration took office, they announced they were “speeding up” the process. However, even with political will, the government faced a “hidden” hurdle: The physical limitations of the Bureau of Engraving and Printing.
The “Invisible” Barriers: Security and Logistics
It is easy to assume the delay is purely about ideology, but there are technical realities to consider:
- Anti-Counterfeiting: The U.S. dollar is the world’s primary reserve currency. Every design change requires rigorous testing to ensure that the note is resistant to high-tech forging.
- Technological Integration: Vending machines, ATMs, and currency counters globally are calibrated to recognize the specific magnetic and physical properties of current bills. A design change is a logistical nightmare that requires coordination with global financial institutions.
- Production Backlog: The BEP is constantly balancing the production of current notes with the development of future security features.
So, Why the Frustration?
The tension arises because currency is more than paper; it is a public statement of national values.
When citizens demand that Harriet Tubman replace Andrew Jackson, they are demanding that the government acknowledge that the “founding fathers” aren’t the only ones who built this country. When political figures suggest their own signatures or images should be on the currency, it feels to many like a trivialization of that same public space.
The disparity in perceived difficulty—the idea that a political leader could easily leave their “mark” while a civil rights icon waits a decade—is what fuels the public outcry.
The Bottom Line
The Harriet Tubman $20 bill is coming, but the speed of its arrival is dictated by a collision of massive federal bureaucracy, security protocols, and the shifting winds of political priority.
What this saga teaches us is that updating our national symbols is never just about aesthetics. It is a slow, grinding process of reconciling who we were as a nation with who we want to be. As we wait for the new $20 to circulate, we are reminded that in the United States, the most powerful images on our money aren’t just the portraits—they are the debates we have about them.