The Billionaire Obsession: Why We Worship the Few and Forget the Many

The Self-Made Myth

 

Every billionaire story eventually repeats the same line:
“I did it all myself.”

It’s a powerful story — and a deeply misleading one.
Behind every so-called self-made success are invisible networks:
education systems, labour forces, policy advantages, and tax structures that quietly hold the empire together.

The narrative of the lone genius flatters our desire to believe effort alone determines outcome.
But it erases humility, community, and truth — replacing gratitude with glory and connection with competition.

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The Media Mirage

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Turn on a screen and billionaires are everywhere — giving interviews, flaunting purchases, promising that anyone can follow their path.

We see the outcome, never the infrastructure that made it possible.

That constant exposure warps perception.
It makes ordinary people feel perpetually behind.
The unspoken message is clear: you don’t have enough; you’re not doing enough.

That pressure fuels quick-fix culture — day trading, crypto roulette, gambling apps, and miracle side hustles.

It’s the same dopamine loop: chasing a leap instead of building steady progress.
When the dream is unreachable, desperation becomes the business model.

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The Moral Cost of the Climb

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Billionaire culture sells genius; what it usually hides is ruthless self-interest disguised as innovation.

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Many of these figures built wealth by crushing competitors, exploiting workers, manipulating markets — and avoiding the very taxes that fund the societies they claim to improve.

They thrive on public infrastructure — roads, schools, internet networks — yet treat contribution as optional.

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It isn’t intelligence that gets them ahead, it’s access:
lawyers, loopholes, and lenient laws.
While everyday Australians pay full freight, billionaires move money through shell companies and offshore trusts, calling it “efficiency.”

Avoiding your social duty isn’t efficient.

It’s parasitic — wealth without responsibility, power that feeds but doesn’t nourish.

 

The Personal Fallout

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For all their wealth, many of these so-called visionaries lead emotionally bankrupt lives.
Families fractured, children estranged, relationships transactional.
They build rockets to escape Earth but can’t sustain a home on it.

Elon Musk is a prime example — worshipped for brilliance, yet reportedly disconnected from his own children and employees alike.
What’s the use of conquering planets if you can’t show up in your own living room?

The cost of empire is always human — and usually closest to home.

 

The Psychology of Power

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Power without humility corrodes.
When people rise beyond accountability, they start believing they deserve exemption.
They see compassion as weakness and responsibility as optional.

Tax avoidance becomes a symbol of freedom.
Control replaces conscience.
And society applauds it — mistaking manipulation for genius and greed for grit.

We’ve built a culture where billionaires avoid paying into the systems that educated their engineers and paved their driveways — then call themselves “self-made.”
That’s not self-made.
That’s self-serving.

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Reclaiming Aspiration

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Aspiration isn’t the enemy — distortion is.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting success, comfort, or abundance.
But when admiration turns into worship, it disempowers the very people it’s meant to inspire.

Real wealth isn’t about escape — it’s about capacity:
the capacity to create, to rest, to contribute.
It’s the freedom to live with purpose, not to tower above others.

Admire integrity over image. Admire builders of value, not hoarders of capital.
Because the most radical act in a world obsessed with billionaires —
is to stop wanting to become one.

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Read Next on The Fiscal Phoenix

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• 🔥 Overcoming Class Barriers: Rewriting the Story of Wealth

• 🕊️ The Cost of Comparison: Why “Enough” Is the New Rich