Discussing wealth inequality can be a thorny topic. In the rhetorical arena, I'm generally satisfied when I get across two points:

1. A happy society greases the wheels of Capitalism, and
2. There's no significant negative utilitarian effect to higher marginal tax rates.

It's a moderate, conservative opinion. Any discourse approaching wealth distribution is progress.

Discourses in income distribution are progress.

But, then, Michael Bloomberg entered the 2020 primaries.

A Weird Flex

During the first Democratic primary debate (2/19/2020), the question of wealth inequality was placed front and center for a mild interrogation.

One of its vanguard had arrived:

CHUCK TODD, NBC NEWS: Mayor Bloomberg, should you exist?

FMR. NEW YORK CITY MAYOR MICHAEL BLOOMBERG: I can't speak for all billionaires. All I know is, I've been very lucky, made a lot of money and I'm giving it all away to make this country better. And a good chunk of it goes to the Democratic party, as well.

TODD: Is it too much? Have you earned too much money? And has it been an obscene amount of money? Should you have earned that much money?

BLOOMBERG: ...Yes! I worked very hard for it! And I'm giving it away!

There's so much packed into Michael's last response.

Broken down, in reverse:

"And I'm giving it away!"

I won't get ahead of myself, so I'll only note:

1. Within the context of the debate, it sounds like Bloomberg selects those who receive the Franklins flying out of his pocket. What of the "have-nots"?
2. Classic Juvenal.

"I worked very hard for it!"

Compared to the wealth of others? I feel sorry that Michael even suggests his net worth can be linked to any significant form of meritocracy or effort—though to be fair, he did admit he's been "very lucky".

His effort has little to do with $60 billion in net wealth. He was lucky. His effort, ignoring any ethical or moral component, was still very likely no order of magnitude higher than social workers, nurses, cooks—or even his peers.

"...Yes!"

I appreciate the pause. Because I'm starting to wonder myself.

There is a large part of our society that is comfortable with the subtext of someone controlling that much capital. I'd like to disabuse said people of the notion.

And so, I hope to explore the ways in which someone like Bloomberg—though, with one one-thousandth of his resources!—may attempt to expend their capital.

I can start a business

This is an awkward place to start, but I feel it may inform all the others.

Why do you want to start a new business? Why does anyone start a business?

Most nobly, one recognizes a gap in the market and provides a fulfilling good or service. Does anyone start a business to become Scrooge McDuck? I don't mean to be fascistic; it's only that I expect only 4% of people enter business to increase their net wealth ad infinitium.

Okay. So let's assume that as soon as we've achieved $60m, we decide to start another venture. Since we've amassed a significant amount of capital, we'll bootstrap the business using our personal wealth.

But, within the framework of Capitalism, can this new venture exist without... its supply chain? What are we building? And if we need no one to help us produce our service or products, what about clients? No clients?

Doesn't sound much like a business to me. If a business has a value proposition, it has potential investors. And while amounting to napkin math, my understanding of business leads me to find a business inconceivable if it both:

1. Requires more than $60 million dollars (2020), and,
2. Doesn't require the participation of external actors.

Alas, fiscal freedom can be an illusion, depending on its framing.

Any business will require co-operation. While the brutish nature of our persons may force you to use your personal wealth to start a business, no business can survive without social relationships, and thus any new opportunity that requires additional capital should be greeted happily by obvious and interested parties.

In essence, any cool idea you have should be fully funded before it's started. If you have a long-term position, use rhetoric to convince investors—e.g. Bezos' parents provided a relatively small amount of capital to start Amazon.

You can claim that you need more than $60m to start this arbitrary business; but, it simply isn't true.

I can invest

When one invests in a company, the investors provide capital so that the business can follow through on whatever they deem useful, sane, or otherwise. Generally we expect to profit materially from our investments, though "profit" can be interpreted several ways.

I'd like to return to the Scrooge McDuck imagery.

If you are investing, it's probably of: hedonism, power, or charity.

If we are investing for charitable purposes, this is great! And surprising! Most businesses appreciate that the client is always right or that they need them; you're not that crazy and are probably really nice.

If we're investing for power; well, unless you're referring to effective altruism, you probably aren't that swayed by this article and I hope that we don't have pitchforks.

And if we're investing for pure pleasure, I encourage you to jump past the philanthropic bit and mainline the "I could buy a boat" section.

If our investments aren't charitable... If we aren't "paying it forward"... What are we doing? Is there an end game?

Remember, you have $60m. You have enough money to continue living for as long as anyone realistically expects to. You can even pass a segment of that wealth down to your progeny and assure them a nicer life.

I'm not trying to put words in your mouth, but again—what are we doing?

Philanthropy!

Note: Rob Reich wrote a book called "Just Giving" that explores the political elements of philanthropy. I feel like I should read that before writing this. SSC wrote a book review and the author responded.

To be very honest, this is the only case where I have little to no confidence in arguing against. It isn't impossible that government, in one or its many forms, is either inappropriate or too incompetent to perform social good when compared to the individual.

However, the Marxist in the back of the room should be satisfied as we finally address the inherent exploitation that affords someone the ability to authoritatively allocate capital as they see fit—similar to an argument that would be suggested against this document ("government is stealing my liberty by working in a way I don't like").

If the government can fail in its duties, and if we've ever expected some value from the work of our government, why would we ever assume that the capitalists will save the day or improve our lives or do anything better?

If the government is incompetent, who are you.

If they are inappropriate, you?

And if our current spat of rich people are benevolent, this is good, and aren't we lucky, but is that, at all, re-assuring?

We're lucky.

I could buy a boat

Lastly, there are very imaginative and much wittier people than I who could theoretically purchase enough goods and services to exhaust $60 million dollars. It's not inconceivable. But after that, let's give you another $60 million. What then?

If you agree that we can reach—not just approach—a hedonistic limit, then I'd argue that your consumerism can eventually be pieced down to either investment or philanthropy. Once again, and in either case, who are you to choose which Italian designer goes viral?

Is that all there is?

We can wonder about the other purposes of capital for an individual, but I think we've considered the general motivations for having $60 million.

If this has generated a confused anger; as if this new truth hadn't existed long before and wasn't only justified through power: I think there are ways out besides pitchforks, guillotines, or tear gas.

I've done the numbers... As have others. But, a Yangian Universal Basic Income (UBI) can afford the U.S. body politic the ability to deal with the capital accumulation we've observed.

In a sense, I'm looking out for you, Michael—the George Floyd protests are a symptom of your increasing antagonism.

Another: Reforms that promote worker-owned means of production can be advocated socially and legally—both to tamp down the pitchfork revolution and to make people happier. I think we should do both, at least.

We can and certainly should dig into the details, but simply: if we cannot ransack the nouveau rich (and worse, the olds), we can reset the next round of gameplay so that everyone gets their fair share of profit, from a system that requires all its players.

Conclusion

In a very play-it-safe way, and honestly, anyone with $60m is fine. You would need to perform horribly to be penniless. You can invest, capitalize, or slip up and continue into perpetuity. If the purpose of this article is wrong, and this long train can continue running, you should be shamed not to succeed in some manner, historically.

Conservatives, liberals, and the undefined alike seem willing to rubber-stamp this sort of ethical ridiculousness—and I hope we stop. There's no meritocratic or fair justification for anyone on Forbes' list. Capitalism in its current form requires us all.

If we agree that no amount of effort justifies a net wealth of $60b while there are the involuntarily homeless and unfed, justice will come now or then, and in a form that may not be palatable.

And if you've come to terms with the power of capital, who are these rich bastards? Do you dream of becoming one?

To end: Even if there isn't an obvious solution, here's another thought experiment.

Can you imagine a world where instead of one Bloomberg we had 1,000 $60 millionaires? Might that be more equitable or even profitable in a global sense?

And if you can do this, and if you believe there's any morality involved with our societal calculus, can we do better?