Hah! I thought maybe I could slip one by you, but probably not. You realized that the phrase "the ethical billionaire" is an oxymoron. Which is word I cannot write without the image of a large, dull, bovine flashing through my mind. But I'm talking about fat cats here, not fat cattle. So I'm talking about a term which is self-contradictory, or in other words, I am asserting that there ain't no such thing as an ethical billionaire. It is a notion that is of increasing concern as it seems that every day we are informed of yet another of billionaire being named as a major player in the looming Trump administration. But first let me expand on my assertion that there is no such thing as an ethical billionaire.
You see, I do believe that there can be ethical millionaires of a variety of stripes. Not surprisingly many can be found in the world of the arts and entertainment. One can write a novel or a series of novels that sell millions of copies and morph into films, coffee cups, etc. Historically, Charles Dickens comes to mind. Having worked in a bootblack factory to get his father out of debtor's prison, Dickens went on to become a internationally famous, and financially successful author who wrote, among other works, A Christmas Carol, the George C. Scott version of which I will watch at least once this season. Point is that the Dickens estate continued to generate millions of dollars from literary works long after the patriarch passed.
In a more contemporary example, Dickens's countrywoman, JK Rowling crafted the Harry Potter world which has also generated millions in hardback and digital versions, movies and other formats. Peruse any sports or entertainment news sites and you will encounter millionaires who have profited from their talents packaged in a way that enriches them as they entertain us. And while some of those packages leave me more confused than entertained - I have no problem with the basic process. Different strokes and all that. But the leap from millionaire to billionaire, as any episode of American Greed reveals, is fraught with ethical pitfalls.
It seems that once one has accumulated a million, or ten, or a hundred, from one's primary reason for remuneration - writing, singing, sports, whatever - the old Peggy Lee song, Is That All There Is?, begins to roll around in their head. If millions are cool, wouldn't billions be even more fun? But assuming they have maxed out their earning potential of their actual abilities, they become hungry for other opportunities - they begin to diversify. "If you liked me as a quarterback, you'll love my bitcoin options!" "Hmm. Maybe beef jerky is a good place to invest." How about diamonds in South Africa? No, I'm not sure where they come from . . . How about organic marijuana? Go ahead, make up your own. The point is that profit and the accumulation of enough millions to become a billionaire becomes the driving raison d'etre in their lives, and it really doesn't matter where or how they accomplish their ends.
I'm not sure why this seems to be a common track for previously rational folks, but I have an idea. Rembrant once said, "Chose only one mentor, nature." So let us look to nature for some mentoring here. Think grasshoppers, grasshopper. Normally, grasshoppers just hang out eating, well, grass, and leaping away from any predators who might stumble upon them. They just hang out in their own little grasshopper niche. But then something called density-dependent phenotypic plasticity rears its ugly head. What that means is that for reasons not very well understood, grasshoppers begin to gather into large groups - like millions - and they then morph in locusts - like billions - who then, like the biblical plague, swarm out and devour everything in their path. So I'm thinking that millionaires who hang out with lots and lots of other huge money types get this uncontrollable urge to become billionaires and they devour everything that stands in their way to that objective.
OK. It has been that way since the days of the great robber barons of the 1800s here in the States, longer than that across the pond in the Old World, the Hapsburgs, Rothschilds, and that crowd. But what I don't understand is - if the post election pundits are close to accurate - that lots of people voted for Trump because they believed his policies would have a positive impact on their paychecks, on their ability to meet expenses, pay the rent, groceries and all. Maybe, were Trump a single grasshopper, that might make sense, but he seems to be gathering more and more and more similar critters around him. Grasshoppers who have fallen victim to "density-dependent phenotypic plasticity" and piled their millions into billions that they accumulated from, well, us. The bucks had to come from somewhere. So what do we call this cadre of monied folks who seem poised, locust-like, to further line their bulging pockets for the next four years? Cattle are a herd. Chickens are a flock. A school of fish, even a murder of crows. No, wait. I've got it:
A gluttony of billionaires.
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