Amid the rancour of the Republican presidential nomination contest, one of the more widely publicized narratives centres around the wealth of the candidates. I found out yesterday that Mitt Romney, who owns $250 mil. in assets, is reportedly worth more money than the combined peak net worth of the last 8 U.S. presidents combined. Looking at this year's crop of candidates for the Republican nomination, of the final 8 candidates, at least 6 were multimillionaires. Of those 6, two (Romney and Huntsman) were born into millionaire families (actually, a billionaire family in Huntsman's case). This isn't new. Nor is it unique to Republicans. Going back to 2000, all of the major party nominees were millionaires. Of the six men nominated during this period (including Romney, assuming he wins the nomination), 4 of them inherited wealth from family members, either from rich parents (George W. Bush and Mitt Romney), or filthy rich wives (John Kerry and John McCain).
Until today, I never gave much thought to this trend. I basically took it for granted that being rich was a de facto pre-requisite for success in politics. But the more I think about it, the more fascinated I become. The latest meme surrounding the inequities of today's wealth distribution is this notion of the 1% vs. the 99%. And not surprisingly, the 1% appear to have a virtual monopoly on political power in The States and also in Canada. If any other one percent minority dominated politics to the exclusion of the rest of the demographic groups, people would be quick to label it as apartheid. Yet, we're all so accustomed to being ruled by the wealthy that we seldom give it a second thought.
The situation becomes even more bemusing when I realize that rich people aren't just a tiny minority, they're the most exclusive and isolated minority there is. In fact, I don't think I know a single rich person. Sure, I know a few well-off people (one female inhabitant of a swanky Yorkville condo comes to mind). But I don't know any of the 1%. I may have crossed paths with a few of them during my highly infrequent forays at TIFF or Roy Thompson Hall, or perhaps caught a glimpse of one while strolling past The Four Seasons back in my undergrad days when I claimed the quixotic borderlands between Yorkville and the Annex as my stomping grounds. But apart from that, I know nothing of my city's wealthy population. It's like they live in a parallel universe whose overlap with my own is narrow and fleeting. I don't know where they eat. Where they shop. What they do for fun. Not that I really care, but I still find it strange that I know so little.
In any case, unfamiliarity breeds contempt. So when it comes down to Romney versus Obama in November, I know who I'll be riding with (not that I really needed any extra motivations).
