Shucking Oysters: Plutocracy on Steroids
By Alex Allen
“Plutocracy. It is the perfect nuance: chilly, inaccessible, icy-rich.” – Graham Joyce
When was the last time you read about Bezos, Musk, Zuckerberg, or any other ultra-rich yahoo, do something altruistic with their lives, let alone their money? Instead of shared social responsibility, the ultra-wealthy have morphed into “freewheeling celebrations of selfish opulence.” Rather than towards altruism, today’s plutocrats use their wealth to escape to private islands, host private Beyoncé concerts, and own private super yachts.
During the Covid lockdown, we got to see these modern-day plutocrats at their very worst. While the world’s economies ground to a halt and small businesses were crushed with debt, super yacht sales surged by 46%. Billionaire media mogul David Geffen had to hunker in isolation on his 454-foot-long super yacht, Rising Sun, a colossal 86,000 square feet of floating living space with 82 rooms. In the usual sensitivity of the rich and famous, Geffen posted a photo of a beautiful Caribbean sunset at the height of the pandemic, with the caption “Isolated in the Grenadines avoiding the virus. I hope everybody is staying safe.” The new mission statement: While the public suffer, the rich escape.
Over the last few decades, the signalling of wealth has shifted more and more from public philanthropy to private envy. Instead, the “haves” and “have yachts” play a status game for the benefit only of the too-rich themselves. Why spend chunks of your money on being benevolent and charitable, when you can buy a 230-foot-long Benetti super yacht with “playful touches such as custom poufs with built-in chessboards….and a dramatic, glass-fronted wine cellar along the port side corridor” for $49 million?
In his article, “The Rise of the Selfish Plutocrats,” in The Atlantic, Brian Klaas argues that some of “the American ultra-rich openly deride philanthropy as an ineffective use of money.” The tech mogul Marc Andreessen baldy stated that “technological innovation in a market system is inherently philanthropic.” True, the Gates Foundation has made progress against the ills of Third World health, but by and large, Klaas notes, “the notion that wealthy individuals will marshal their resources to alleviate social crises has come to seem quaint in today’s world.”
Linda McQuaig, author of, most recently, The Sport & Prey of Capitalists, wrote that “while the well-to-do seem motivated to have their names prominently displayed on the outside of educational, cultural, and medical facilities where their largess will presumably be noted by their peers,” they have almost no interest in contributing to community centres, recreation facilities, or swimming pools in marginalized neighbourhoods. (Fun fact: In 2013, McQuaig ran for the federal NDP in the Toronto Centre by-election and was defeated by Liberal Chrystia Freeland, who authored that same year, Plutocrats: The Rise of the New Global Super-Rich and the Fall of Everyone Else.)
In his 2023 book, As Gods Among Men, economic historian Guido Alfani amply demonstrates that today’s ultra-rich are uniquely selfish; they may indulge in some philanthropy, but most avoid their obligations to society. Their chunks of money buys them the means to avoid paying taxes, silencing critics and rewriting laws.
Most of Trump’s political appointments are beautifully rich. Howard Lutnick ($2bn), Trump’s grinning commerce secretary, is an investment banker. The education secretary is former wrestling promoter, Linda McMahon ($3.2bn), who once claimed she had a bachelor’s degree in education. She doesn’t. NASA is run by defence tycoon Jared Isaacman ($1.8bn) and the Department of Energy secretary is fracking company, Liberty Energy CEO Chris Wright, a “drill-baby-drill” character who last year claimed “there is no climate crisis.”
Trump has also given his diplomatic corps “a distinct billionaire glitter.” He’s named Tilman Fertitta ($10.4bn), owner of Golden Nugget Casinos and Hotels, as ambassador to Italy and his son-in-law’s father, the pardoned tax-cheat Charles Kushner ($2.9bn), will be at the US embassy in Paris. The ambassador to the UK is another investment banker Warren Stephens (estimated net worth $3.4bn). What better candidates to serve one’s country with “professional excellence, the highest standards of ethical conduct, and diplomatic discretion”?
And then the Trump family, with no hint of modesty, have accumulated over $3 billion in wealth during the first three months of daddy’s second term. Karoline Leavitt, Trump’s pert and pink front lady, offered a hilarious defence that is, well, rather rich: “I think it’s frankly ridiculous that anyone in this room would even suggest that President Trump is doing anything for his own benefit. He left a life of luxury and a life of running a very successful real estate empire for public service… this is a president who has actually lost money for being president.” In rebuttal, Chris Hedges perhaps summed it up best: “Trump and his coterie of billionaires, generals, halfwits, Christian fascists, criminals, racists, and moral deviants embody the moral rot unleashed by unfettered capitalism.”
Yes, success has its dark side. The more we view ourselves as ‘self-made” and “self-sufficient,” the less likely we are to care for the fate of those less fortunate than ourselves. So, what does it mean for the world when the norms governing the lives of the wealthiest people on Earth are so utterly detached from the reality of those they claim to serve? I think it means we’re fucked.
