
"If you're a regular billionaire, you can afford a private jet," notes Reich. "If you're a centibillionaire, you can afford a brand-new Gulfstream jet every single day for more than ten years."
Mega-Billionaires and the Gushing Upward Redistribution of Wealth
So how much is a $100 billion anyway?
The word "billionaire" didn't even exist until 1844. Fifty years later, we got "multibillionaire." And for the next 127 years, that was enough.
But in 2020, while the working class faced near-record unemployment during the pandemic, the wealthiest Americans faced a different problem. Some of them had gotten so rich, there was no longer a word to describe just how rich they were.
That's why I want to bring you one of the newest additions to the English language: "centibillionaires," people with $100 billion or more.
What's it like being one of history's first centibillionaires? It's hard to even imagine, but let's try it by comparing them to the less fortunate. By which I mean just ... regular ... billionaires.
If you're a regular billionaire, you can afford a private jet. If you're a centibillionaire, you can afford a brand-new Gulfstream jet every single day for more than ten years. (Not sure what you'd do with a new Gulfstream every day -- maybe give one to each of your closest 4,000 friends?)
A regular billionaire would struggle to buy their own professional baseball team. Sad, I know. But a centibillionaire could easily buy every team in the entire major league.
If you're a regular billionaire, you can donate to your alma mater and get your name on a building. If you're a centibillionaire, you could single-handedly give every teacher in America an $8,000 raise for 5 straight years.
Of course, that's not all you could do. $100 billion is enough to wipe out all the medical debt in the United States. Or provide permanent shelter for every homeless person in America. Or buy Covid-19 vaccines for the entire world.
Basically what I'm saying is, $100 billion is a lot of money.
More than two and a half million times what the average American worker makes in a year.
So here's the big question. Are these centibillionaires so rich because they work two and half million times harder than the average American? Are they really 100 times smarter than the typical billionaire?
I don't think so. The reason for the rise of centibillionaires is that for decades, wealth hasn't trickled down, it's gushed up, all the way to the very top.
That's not an accident. As it turns out, the system that the super-rich themselves carefully crafted and lobbied for, benefits... the rich!
And while you may not own more private jets than your average centibillionaire, you probably do pay a higher tax rate. And thanks to legal loopholes and the Trump tax cuts, when the wealthiest Americans die, they get to pass on most of their centibillions to their kids tax-free.
We've got two choices as a country. We can tax the richest Americans fairly, and invest that money in ways that benefit all of us.
Or we can keep doing what we're doing, and watch as centibillionaires get even richer while the rest of us get left behind.
If you think wealth and power are too concentrated in the hands of a privileged few now, just imagine what a few more years of trickle-down nonsense will bring.
Of course, it won't be all bad. At least "trillionaire" is easy to say.
We are at a crossroads
This country and this world are at a monumental crossroads. In a few short weeks, US voters will have an opportunity to beat back the forces of fascism and confront the billionaires who are rigging the economy, our media system, and our democracy, making it increasingly impossible for ordinary people to get by. We’re not just talking about the election. We’re talking about what must be done once these fascist elements are vanquished from power. We need a bolder set of solutions than what either major party has so far been willing to offer and a working-class movement ready to fight like hell for it. Trump didn't emerge from nowhere. The conditions that fueled MAGA authoritarianism were created by decades of radical neoliberal economic policies and a corrupt political system dominated by corporate interests. They slashed taxes on the super-rich, promising that the benefits would trickle down. They said giveaways to the corporate titans would make life more affordable for the rest of us. It was all bullshit. And when a bitter, betrayed populace searches for someone to blame, right-wing demagogues have little trouble finding scapegoats. People know when they're being lied to, but you won't hear any of this from the corporate media. Only independent journalism—powered and funded by people who believe in building a better world—can deliver truly trustworthy daily news. Our Fall Campaign is underway, and we need your help. To power our newsroom through the rest of the year, we need to raise $125,000 by midnight on October 31. So if you share our vision, please contribute whatever you can to sustain our work. |
The word "billionaire" didn't even exist until 1844. Fifty years later, we got "multibillionaire." And for the next 127 years, that was enough.
But in 2020, while the working class faced near-record unemployment during the pandemic, the wealthiest Americans faced a different problem. Some of them had gotten so rich, there was no longer a word to describe just how rich they were.
That's why I want to bring you one of the newest additions to the English language: "centibillionaires," people with $100 billion or more.
What's it like being one of history's first centibillionaires? It's hard to even imagine, but let's try it by comparing them to the less fortunate. By which I mean just ... regular ... billionaires.
If you're a regular billionaire, you can afford a private jet. If you're a centibillionaire, you can afford a brand-new Gulfstream jet every single day for more than ten years. (Not sure what you'd do with a new Gulfstream every day -- maybe give one to each of your closest 4,000 friends?)
A regular billionaire would struggle to buy their own professional baseball team. Sad, I know. But a centibillionaire could easily buy every team in the entire major league.
If you're a regular billionaire, you can donate to your alma mater and get your name on a building. If you're a centibillionaire, you could single-handedly give every teacher in America an $8,000 raise for 5 straight years.
Of course, that's not all you could do. $100 billion is enough to wipe out all the medical debt in the United States. Or provide permanent shelter for every homeless person in America. Or buy Covid-19 vaccines for the entire world.
Basically what I'm saying is, $100 billion is a lot of money.
More than two and a half million times what the average American worker makes in a year.
So here's the big question. Are these centibillionaires so rich because they work two and half million times harder than the average American? Are they really 100 times smarter than the typical billionaire?
I don't think so. The reason for the rise of centibillionaires is that for decades, wealth hasn't trickled down, it's gushed up, all the way to the very top.
That's not an accident. As it turns out, the system that the super-rich themselves carefully crafted and lobbied for, benefits... the rich!
And while you may not own more private jets than your average centibillionaire, you probably do pay a higher tax rate. And thanks to legal loopholes and the Trump tax cuts, when the wealthiest Americans die, they get to pass on most of their centibillions to their kids tax-free.
We've got two choices as a country. We can tax the richest Americans fairly, and invest that money in ways that benefit all of us.
Or we can keep doing what we're doing, and watch as centibillionaires get even richer while the rest of us get left behind.
If you think wealth and power are too concentrated in the hands of a privileged few now, just imagine what a few more years of trickle-down nonsense will bring.
Of course, it won't be all bad. At least "trillionaire" is easy to say.
The word "billionaire" didn't even exist until 1844. Fifty years later, we got "multibillionaire." And for the next 127 years, that was enough.
But in 2020, while the working class faced near-record unemployment during the pandemic, the wealthiest Americans faced a different problem. Some of them had gotten so rich, there was no longer a word to describe just how rich they were.
That's why I want to bring you one of the newest additions to the English language: "centibillionaires," people with $100 billion or more.
What's it like being one of history's first centibillionaires? It's hard to even imagine, but let's try it by comparing them to the less fortunate. By which I mean just ... regular ... billionaires.
If you're a regular billionaire, you can afford a private jet. If you're a centibillionaire, you can afford a brand-new Gulfstream jet every single day for more than ten years. (Not sure what you'd do with a new Gulfstream every day -- maybe give one to each of your closest 4,000 friends?)
A regular billionaire would struggle to buy their own professional baseball team. Sad, I know. But a centibillionaire could easily buy every team in the entire major league.
If you're a regular billionaire, you can donate to your alma mater and get your name on a building. If you're a centibillionaire, you could single-handedly give every teacher in America an $8,000 raise for 5 straight years.
Of course, that's not all you could do. $100 billion is enough to wipe out all the medical debt in the United States. Or provide permanent shelter for every homeless person in America. Or buy Covid-19 vaccines for the entire world.
Basically what I'm saying is, $100 billion is a lot of money.
More than two and a half million times what the average American worker makes in a year.
So here's the big question. Are these centibillionaires so rich because they work two and half million times harder than the average American? Are they really 100 times smarter than the typical billionaire?
I don't think so. The reason for the rise of centibillionaires is that for decades, wealth hasn't trickled down, it's gushed up, all the way to the very top.
That's not an accident. As it turns out, the system that the super-rich themselves carefully crafted and lobbied for, benefits... the rich!
And while you may not own more private jets than your average centibillionaire, you probably do pay a higher tax rate. And thanks to legal loopholes and the Trump tax cuts, when the wealthiest Americans die, they get to pass on most of their centibillions to their kids tax-free.
We've got two choices as a country. We can tax the richest Americans fairly, and invest that money in ways that benefit all of us.
Or we can keep doing what we're doing, and watch as centibillionaires get even richer while the rest of us get left behind.
If you think wealth and power are too concentrated in the hands of a privileged few now, just imagine what a few more years of trickle-down nonsense will bring.
Of course, it won't be all bad. At least "trillionaire" is easy to say.

