It’s official. This tormented, heated, traumatised planet is now home to over 3,000 billionaires. (That number was reached last year.) In October 2025, Elon Musk became the first man to have wealth exceeding half a trillion dollars. These developments could still take alongside the fact that one in four people across the globe face hunger.
Oxfam’s Resisting the Rule of the Rich has, as its subtitle, “defending freedom against billionaire power”. It’s an important link, as money, rather than knowledge, tends to be the indicator of raw power. In her foreword to the report, the Secretary General of Amnesty International, Agnès Callamard, links the stirrings of authoritarianism with the pains of inequality. They were neither “separate problems” nor “distinct dilemmas”. They were “entwined, as governments across the world side with the powerful, not the people, and choose repression, not redistribution.” Reading such words commands an echo from US Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis, who observed in 1941 that, “We can have a democratic society or we can have the concentration of great wealth in the hands of a few. We cannot have both.” (The Oxfam authors also cite the same quote, though not its questionable provenance.)
The charity accepts that the rich influencing and moulding politics is hardly new. That scale of influence, however, has burgeoned. What took place in the US last year, with the victory of a billionaire president, supported and sponsored by billionaires, running a cabinet with billionaires, made this “viscerally clear: in country after country, the super-rich have not only accumulated more wealth than could ever be spent, but have also used this wealth to secure the political power to shape the rules that define our economies and govern our nations.”
Considering data from 136 countries, the authors confirm the thesis that the unequal distribution of economic resources correlates with unequal political power. “This leads to policy outcomes that reflect the preferences of upper-income groups more than those in lower-income groups.” Those in the highest income bracket have, by means of this fact, secured influence in purchasing political representatives, seeking to legitimise elite power, and secure direct access to institutions.
News coverage and commentary have also been infiltrated by the billionaire class, with over half of the stable of global media companies owned by it. Of the 10 top social media companies, nine are in the hands of six billionaires. A chilling nexus with artificial intelligence has also developed, with its inexorable shaping of the information environment, given that 8 of the top 10 AI companies are steered by billionaires. These are individuals who are not only affecting the nature of wealth distribution but the nature of how knowledge and understanding is sought.
The authors do not throw their hands up in despair at these dire developments. They suggest measures of amelioration. One idea, and unlikely to take off, is the proposal of “limitarianism” advocated by philosopher Ingrid Robeyns. Just as societies define a poverty line, they should just as well define an “Extreme Wealth Line”. (Robeyns puts this limit at US$10 million, an amount bound to make the tech tyrants goggle.)
More feasible is the construction of a “strong firewall between wealth and politics.” Governments can tax the wealthiest – a thorny point given the threatening influence they exert both within and outside representative chambers. Lobbying and the revolving door phenomenon between public and private interest should be regulated. Modest measures include transparent budgetary processes, reforming regulations, establishing mandatory public lobby registries and enforcing rules on conflicts of interest.
Addressing the hoary old chestnut of concentrated media ownership is another suggestion, be it through rules limiting individuals and corporations to secure a lion’s share of the market, encouraging alternative public and independent media outlets, compelling media companies to be transparent about how they use algorithms and rein in the distribution of harmful content. “Oversight and enforcement should be led by a state-funded, governmental body independent of billionaire influence.” The authors fail to appreciate that such supposedly independent bodies can come with their own problems, becoming censors in chief and paternalistic killjoys, a point aptly illustrated by the Australian eSafety Commissioner’s guerilla campaign against the Internet.
The very nature of political campaigning is also targeted by the charity’s recommendations. Political financing by the wealthy should be subject to accountability and transparency guidelines. Those running for office would have to make commitments to reduce their reliance on private donations, have such donations capped, with political parties having to abide by transparency rules regarding funding and electoral campaign financing.
While all these measures point to the drafters, regulators and lawmakers, Oxfam insists on “political power of the many” as a noble, necessary agenda, with governments needing to “guarantee an enabling civic space, in line with international legal frameworks, standards and guidance.” This would involve promoting freedom of expression, lawful assembly and association and enforcing such standards “through regular reporting and scrutiny by both state and non-state actors”.
The Oxfam report will be dismissed by the aspirational and the moneyed as the rantings of the envious and the airings of the lazy. The obscenely wealthy often assume that a mixture of hard work, prudence and basic genetics will get you the loot. In the end, it remains loot, protected by the systems that encourage it, and officials who remain complicit in weakening any mechanism that seeks redistribution and levelling.
 | A guest post by
|
The super rich hold the reins of power in most countries writing the rules of governance just as they when the plantation constitution was written in the US of Apartheid a quarter millennium ago.