In
mid-September,
for just a few days, Indian
industrialist Gautam
Adani
entered the ranks of the top three
richest people on earth as per
Bloomberg’s Billionaires Index. It
was the first time an Indian,
or, for that matter, an Asian, had
enjoyed such a distinction. South
Asians in my circle of family and
friends felt excited at the
prospect that a man who looked like
us had entered such rarefied
ranks.
Adani
was
deemed the second richest person,
even richer than Amazon founder
Jeff Bezos! A Times
of
India profile
fawningly quoted him relaying his
thought process in the early days
of his rags-to-riches story.
“‘Dreams were infinite but finances
finite,’ he says with engaging
frankness,” according to the
profile. There was no mention of the
serious accusations
he
faces
of corruption and diverting money
into offshore tax havens, or of the
entire website, AdaniWatch,
devoted to investigating his dirty
deeds.
Adani
made
his money, in part, by investing
in digital services, leading
one
economist
to say,
“Wherever there is a futuristic
business in India, I think…
[Adani] has a stronghold.”
The
moment
of pride that Indians felt in such
an achievement by one of
their own was short-lived. Quickly
Adani slipped from second richest
to third
richest,
and, as of this writing, is in the number
four
slot
on a list dominated by people who
have made money from the digital
technology revolution.
In
fact,
ranking multibillionaires is a
meaningless exercise that
obscures the absurdity of their
wealth. This year alone, a number of
tech billionaires on Bloomberg’s
list lost
hundreds of billions of dollars as
the gains they made during the
early years of the pandemic were wiped
out
because of a volatile stock market.
But, as Whizy Kim of Vox points
out, whether or not they’re losing
money or giving it away—as
Bezos’ ex-wife MacKenzie Scott has
been doing—their wealth
remains insanely high, and most are
worth more today than before the
COVID-19 pandemic.
What
are they doing with all this wealth?
It
turns
out that many are quietly plotting
their own survival against
our demise. Douglas Rushkoff, podcaster,
founder of the Laboratory for
Digital Humanism, and fellow at the
Institute for the Future, has
written a book about this bizarre
phenomenon, Survival
of
the Richest: Escape
Fantasies of the Tech
Billionaires.
In
an
interview,
Rushkoff explains that billionaires
worry about the end of humanity
just like the rest of us. They fear
catastrophic climate change or
the next pandemic. And, they know
their money will likely be of
little value when civilizations
decline. “How do I maintain control
over my Navy Seal security guards
once my money is worthless?” is a
question that Rushkoff says many of
the world’s wealthiest people
want to know the answer to.
He
knows
they ask such questions because he
was invited to give private
lectures by those who think his
expertise in digital technology
gives
him unique insight into the future.
But Rushkoff was quietly studying
them
instead and has few flattering
things to say about these wielders
of
economic power.
"How
is it that the wealthiest and most
powerful people I’d ever been in
the same room with see themselves as
utterly powerless to affect the
future?” he asks. It seems as though
“the best they can do is
prepare for the inevitable calamity and
then just, you know, hang on
for dear life.”
Rushkoff
explores
this tech billionaire “mindset” that
he says has
resulted in a generation of people
who are “almost comedic
monsters, who really mean to leave
us all behind.” Adani is a
perfect example of this, having
invested in the very fossil fuels
that are destroying our planet. He
has large holdings in Australia’s
coal mining industry and has sparked
a massive
grassroots
movement
intent on stopping him.
The
admiration
that some Indians feel for Adani’s
ascension on
Bloomberg’s list of billionaires is
based on an assumption of
cleverness. Surely, he must be one
of the smartest people in the
world in order to be one of the
richest? Elon Musk, the world’s
wealthiest man by far (with twice as
much wealth as Bezos), has
enjoyed such
a
reputation
for years.
Those
who are invested in the idea of merit-based
capitalism can justify
the unimaginable wealth of the world’s
richest people only by
assuming they are intelligent enough to
deserve it.
This
is a façade. Rather than smarts, the
wealthiest people on the planet
appear to be rather small-minded idiot
savants who share a common
disdain for the rest of us.
After
being around tech billionaires in private,
Rushkoff concludes that
they are invested in “this notion that they
really can, like
puppeteers, kind of control society from one
level above,” and that
this approach is “different than the era of
Alexander the Great, or
Caesar.” If the question that vexes them
most of all is how, in a
disastrous future, will they control the
guards they hire to protect
their hoardings, then our economic system is
a farce.
"Even
if we call them genius technologists,
most of them were plucked from
college when they were freshmen,” says
Rushkoff. “They came up
with some idea in their dorm room before
they’d taken history, or
economics, or ethics, or philosophy”
classes, and so they lack the
wisdom needed to oversee their own
perverse amounts of wealth.
Having
spent time with many tech billionaires,
Rushkoff worries that “their
education about the future comes from zombie
movies and science
fiction shows.”
Billionaires
are
not simply drawing their wealth from
a vacuum. According to data
from the World
Economic
Forum,
“the world’s richest have captured a
disproportionate share of
global wealth over recent decades.”
This means that, if you were
rich to begin with a decade or two
ago, you are likely to have seen
your wealth multiply by a greater
amount than middle-class or
lower-income people.
Not
only are tech billionaires undeserving of
their wealth, but they also
are fleecing the rest of us—and fantasizing
about hoarding that
wealth in the worst-case scenarios while the
rest of humanity
struggles to survive.
The
danger is that if society valorizes such
(mostly) men, we are in
danger of internalizing their childish,
selfish mindset and giving up
on solving the climate crisis or building
resiliency on a mass scale.
Instead
of relating to them, we ought to feel sorry
for a group of people so
cut off from humanity that their vision of
the future is a very
lonely one.
“Let’s
look
at these tech-bro billionaire
lunatics. Let’s laugh at what
they’re doing… so they look small
rather than big,” says
Rushkoff. He thinks it is critical
to adopt the perspective that “the
disaster they’re so afraid of looks
entirely manageable by more
reasonable people who are willing
just to help each other out.”
This
commentary
was produced by Economy
for All, a project of the
Independent Media Institute.
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