5
OPINION

Thursday, June 29, 2017

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

C

urrently, it seems that 
the tumultuous political 
environment of America 

will never calm, and the news 
of Mark Zuckerberg awkwardly 
testing the waters of the potential 
presidential arena only adds 
to the absurdity of our present 
democratic state.

Zuckerberg, a thirty-three-

year-old computer programmer 
who has a net worth greater than 
the GDP of Luxembourg, is yet 
another example of the growing 
belief that billionaires are able 
to solve America’s problems by 
entering into politics and policy 
creation. Due to their massive 
financial success, we as the poor 
citizens we are should willingly 
allow for the transformation 
of our democratic system into 
an oligarchy full of benevolent 
billionaires who so generously 
bless us with their intelligence 
and talent.

This 
trend 
in 
American 

culture is the culmination of 
several factors all stemming 
from specific attributes and 
common 
desires 
we 
as 
a 

collective citizenry share. This 
trend was detailed excellently on 
a recent episode of the podcast 
“Politically 
Reactive,” 
where 

writer Naomi Klein explained 
how several of the solutions to 
the growing wealth and income 
inequality in America relied 
on the generosity of the rich, or 
“philanthro-capitalism.” 
She 

argued 
that 
throughout 
the 

1980s into present day, growing 
materialism and the idea that 
wealth 
is 
synonymous 
with 

success led to this reliance and 
idolization of the mega-rich 
within America. And despite 
this phenomenon occurring and 
growing for years, its fruitions 
have 
only 
become 
blatantly 

visible recently with the election 
of famous rich person, Donald 
Trump.

Trump, 
throughout 
the 

entirety of his celebrity life, has 
been selling a “brand” — and the 
Trump brand is all about money, 
power, success and happiness 
achieved 
essentially 
through 

material wealth. From his name 
plastered in gold on the side of 
every building he owns, to the 
fact that he is rarely ever seen in 
something other than a suit — the 
man sold the idea that his massive 
financial wealth was more than 
enough evidence that he could fix 
America’s political problems.

His 
election 
demonstrated 

that many Americans believe 
success 
within 
the 
private 

sector can translate to victories 
within America’s complicated 
and massive public bureaucracy. 
That by enabling these wealthy 
geniuses, we can allow them to 
transform and fix our country 
the same way they did to their 
company, brand or social media 
site.

As Klein stated in an interview 

with The New York Times, 
“rather than trying to solve these 
huge global problems through 
institutions with some kind of 
democracy 
and 
transparency 

baked into them, we’re just going 
to outsource it to benevolent 
billionaires.” 
From 
the 

billionaires who own charitable 

foundations 
to 
unregulated 

political contributions — the 
mega-rich have been entrusted to 
serve our best interests crafting 
policy and changing the political 
landscape. And most of these 
actions go unnoticed by the public, 
mostly through the privately-
run 
charitable 
organizations 

which are controlled by only a 
few individuals whose policies, 
viewpoints 
and 
politics 
are 

often unknown to those outside 
these groups. The Bill and 
Melinda Gates Foundation alone 
determines many policies for 
public education in America, free 
from citizen input and comment. 

And what this trend is doing 

is undermining our American 
democracy. Essentially, we are 
creating 
a 
pseudo-oligarchy 

in which money and material 
wealth dictate public policy in 
America. We do so willingly with 
the current political campaign 
finance laws, the allowance of 
massive lobbying firms to draft 
laws and the ongoing idolization 
of the super-rich. Our democracy 
is 
meant 
to 
function 
with 

public input and participation 
on all levels, in which our 

statesmen 
and 
women 
are 

empathetic citizens representing 
constituents 
they 
truly 

understand. Willingly sacrificing 
our political input and interest 
to a handful of billionaires who 
we have come to believe are 
more intelligent, empathetic and 
qualified 
than 
contemporary 

political operatives undermines 
the communal political actions 
that are central to American 
democracy.

This obsession and idolization 

of the wealthy has begun to 
seriously jeopardize the overall 
strength of our democracy. The 
solution to the level of growing 
inequality is not the gracious 
donations of billionaires who 
take time to step away from their 
business and into the positions 
of public office. Historically, 
America has been plagued before 
by gross levels of inequality in 
which wealthy families wielded 
massive control over the politics 
of the time. The Rockefellers, 
Vanderbilts and Morgans of the 
past shaped political and public 
policy to bend toward their 
interests. From atop their golden 
estates, they were thought to 
grace the working public with 
their 
immense 
knowledge 

and wealth during a time in 
which inequality had reached a 
historical high.

And now, the robber barons 

of the past have been replaced 
by the tech and finance titans of 
the present. Gates, Zuckerberg, 
Bezos or Trump — regardless, 
their 
wealth 
has 
somehow 

justified the assurance that they 
can change America, they can fix 
its problems.

Billionaires and the super 

wealthy are obviously intelligent 
and 
their 
accomplishments 

impressive. 
Whether 
they 

created 
luxury 
hybrid 
cars, 

built 
massive 
fortunes 
in 

investments or decided whether 
Joan Rivers or Dennis Rodman 
would make a better “celebrity 
apprentice” for a hypothetical 
company that will never exist — 
billionaires’ accomplishments are 
complemented by their immense 
wealth. Yet that wealth should not 
serve as an automatic guarantee 
that they understand and can 
solve the complex political issues 
facing the country.

—Michael Mordarski can be 

reached at mmordars@umich.edu.

Benevolent billionaires

W

ith the campus population 
so much sparser in the 
summer, it’s easy to spot 

differences among passing crowds. For 
the past few weeks, a certain species 
could not go unnoticed walking the 
Diag and roaming State Street.

They travel in packs, wearing bulky 

lanyards around their necks and 
excessive University of Michigan gear 
fresh out of their swinging M Den 
bags. They make me chuckle, because 
just one year ago, I was one of them: 
unsure of my whereabouts, excited and, 
ironically, disoriented — an orientation 
kid.

Now, it’s hard to believe that I 

had once been so unfamiliar with 
this university. Exactly one year ago, 
trekking from the holy East Quad 
with eyes glued to Google Maps, I 
was worn out by high school, nervous 
and uncertain about my future. I was 
lost, both literally and figuratively, 
and entirely unaware of who I was to 
become.

Yet, as I watch their confusion and 

excitement, I can practically relive 
the freshness of orientation, almost 
longing to be on that momentous brink 
of change again. While the details are 
fuzzy, my memories of orientation 
stand out collectively as a distinct feeling 
of novelty, marked by an independence 
that I couldn’t yet comprehend.

Coming from a reserved suburban 

household, a number of things shocked 
me those two days. Having been told 
that I would never escape my “high 
school circle” in college, I was amazed 
by the amount of unfamiliar faces 
and even more so by the expectation 
of befriending them. Just a few days 
after graduation, I wasn’t ready to leave 
behind petty notions of high school 
cliques and the social taboo of simply 
approaching someone outside of my 
own social group.

In essence, I couldn’t imagine ever 

being confident or comfortable enough 
to reach out to others my own age, much 
less be surrounded by them day and 
night for the next four years. As a result, 
my social interaction at orientation was 
restricted to a grand total of one friend 
— a high school classmate, of course. 
But while I still regret not branching out 
earlier, it didn’t stop me from having fun 
for those two days.

The orientation high I’ll always be 

able to remember is the sheer taste of 
freedom — that I perhaps now take 
for granted. Having been accustomed 
to strict parents for the first 18 years of 
my life, I couldn’t fathom the ease with 
which I could roam about campus, stay 
up until 2 a.m. or spend money without 
consequence.

But as I attended informational 

lectures and scheduled my very first 
classes, I felt the same fear we all did: 
was I ready for college classes? Would 
I even find them? What will I have 
advanced in my career a year from now, 
next summer?

Remembering this, I couldn’t help 

but smile — out of amusement, because 
I recall so clearly that anxiety that had 
plagued me exactly 12 months ago, but 
also out of appreciation, because I never 
would’ve pictured myself as the person 
I am today.

We are told not to live in the past, 

but growth cannot be measured in the 
absence of reflection.

Following that eventful orientation, 

my first year of college was, as it is for all 
of us, marked by countless milestones, 
or “firsts”: first stranger to become a 
best friend, first independent decision, 
first all-night study session, first full-
time job — the list goes on and on.

Over time, my firsts turned into 

standards and my naïve freshman self 
grew into an individual. Though the 
point at which I crossed into adulthood 
is difficult to define, the difference in 
my maturity is distinct. A year ago, 
I would have hardly believed that I 
could converse readily with strangers 
or even stray far enough from home 
that I would encounter one. I would’ve 
dismissed the reality of financial 
independence, and I was terrified of an 
impending career that I’ve learned only 
hard work can pay for.

But somewhere along the line, I 

proved myself wrong. With uncertainty 
and challenge, I have grown into a 
better version of myself — defined not 
by my high school, my family nor my 
former reservations but rather by my 
own ideas and actions that are given so 
much room for growth at this school. 
Looking back, I can attest to the rumors: 
change is good, and I’m proud of it.

So, for those of you who are long 

past your orientation days, I urge you 
to pop that dusty lanyard back on for 
one last throwback. A simple self-
reflection cannot be underestimated; 
recognizing personal growth only 
creates increased cause to advance. 
We will only keep growing.

For those of you who have yet to 

taste the freshman experience, don’t 
toss that lanyard off just yet. You’ll 
want to remember what it feels like 
around your neck; a year from now, 
you might feel completely different.

And I promise you, you don’t want 

to forget it.

— Angela Chen can be reached 

at angchen@umich.edu.

ANGELA CHEN| COLUMN
MICHAEL MORDARSKI| COLUMN

Throwback Thursday

Trump, throughout 

the entirety of 
his celebrity life, 
has been selling a 

“brand”

