Billionaires at the Table

Billionaires Stand Beside the President at the Summit

When Donald Trump arrived in Beijing for his summit with Xi Jinping, he did not arrive alone. Surrounding the diplomatic choreography were billionaire CEOs, corporate executives, and financial elites — a modern reminder that in twenty-first century America, economic power increasingly travels alongside political power.

That reality says something uncomfortable about the current state of democracy and capitalism in the United States.

Officially, these executives were there to strengthen economic ties, stabilize trade relations, and help reduce tensions between the world’s two largest economies. In practical terms, they were there because American corporations and the Chinese state remain deeply intertwined despite years of nationalist rhetoric about “decoupling” and economic independence.

The summit itself produced modest results: temporary cooling of trade tensions, vague promises of increased Chinese purchases of American goods, and carefully managed diplomatic symbolism. But the most revealing image was not Trump shaking hands with Xi. It was the quiet normalization of billionaire CEOs acting almost as parallel instruments of American foreign policy.

That is not accidental. Modern corporate giants are no longer simply businesses. Companies like Tesla, Amazon, Apple, and Meta control supply chains, communications infrastructure, and artificial intelligence development.  They mostly control cloud computing, consumer behavior, and enormous pools of global capital. Their leaders possess levels of influence once associated primarily with nation-states.

In Beijing, those executives served several purposes at once. They reassured markets and signaled continued business cooperation. Also, they represented industries dependent on Chinese manufacturing and consumers. And they provided China with something enormously valuable: proof that even America’s most powerful corporations still need access to the Chinese system.

The symbolism mattered enormously to Xi Jinping. China wants recognition not merely as a trading partner, but as an equal superpower. The economic gravity of China can compel even American corporate elites to engage on Beijing’s terms.

But the summit also exposed something deeper about the United States itself. Billionaire CEOs increasingly occupy a strange space between private citizen and quasi-state actors. They are unelected and only accountable primarily to shareholders.  Yet they are capable of shaping labor markets, technology policy, geopolitical strategy, and even public discourse on a global scale.

Supporters argue these executives are innovators who build industries, create jobs, and drive economic growth. Sometimes that is true. Figures like Steve Jobs transformed consumer technology. Elon Musk accelerated electric vehicles and commercial space development. Large-scale corporations can coordinate capital and innovation at extraordinary speed.

But modern capitalism increasingly rewards executives far beyond any realistic measure of individual contribution. Workers create the products, engineers design the systems, public universities educate the workforce, taxpayers fund infrastructure, and government research often lays the technological foundation. Yet wealth and influence accumulate upward into a tiny class of billionaires whose power now spills directly into diplomacy and governance.

That concentration of power carries consequences.

When billionaires stand beside presidents at international summits, foreign governments correctly understand that influencing corporations can be almost as important as influencing elected officials. The boundary between democratic accountability and private economic influence begins to blur.

And ordinary Americans should take notice.

Workers facing stagnant wages, rising healthcare costs, housing instability, and economic insecurity see executives arriving at global summits in private jets while political leaders insist the economy is fundamentally strong. They see CEOs treated as indispensable architects of society while millions of citizens struggle simply to remain financially stable.

The problem is not that business leaders participate in diplomacy. Large economies require coordination between government and industry. The problem is scale — scale of wealth, scale of influence, and scale of political access.

A healthy democracy cannot permanently sustain a system where a small class of billionaire executives exercises immense influence over trade, technology, media, labor, and foreign policy while remaining largely insulated from democratic accountability.

The Beijing summit revealed more than the state of U.S.-China relations. It revealed the evolution of American power itself: a fusion of state authority and corporate concentration in which billionaires sit not outside government, but beside it. This is very dangerous, particularly when Congress is unwilling to protect the basic rights of Americans. Billionaires will have considerable sway in setting tax and spending policy.  American citizens will be neglected even more so than now, suggesting the demise of our form of government.  The time to act is now.

Citizens are not powerless against billionaire influence, but combating concentrated wealth in politics requires sustained civic pressure, institutional reform, and participation that goes beyond voting every four years.

The first step is recognizing the core problem clearly: extreme wealth creates unequal political access. Billionaires can fund campaigns, lobby lawmakers, shape media narratives, finance think tanks, influence courts, and sometimes directly shape policy priorities. That does not mean democracy is dead, but it does mean democratic systems can become distorted when money consistently amplifies certain voices over others.

Citizens can respond in several concrete ways.

Most people focus only on presidential politics, but many decisions benefiting concentrated wealth happen quietly at:

  • state legislatures,
  • zoning boards,
  • public utility commissions,
  • school boards,
  • attorney general offices,
  • and congressional primaries.

Local politics is often where organized citizens can still compete effectively against money because turnout is lower and public pressure is more direct.

When citizens act only as isolated consumers, billionaire influence grows. When people organize collectively — through unions, advocacy groups, professional organizations, tenant groups, or civic coalitions — they gain negotiating power.

That history matters. Major labor protections, antitrust laws, civil rights legislation, and consumer safeguards did not emerge because elites voluntarily surrendered power. They emerged because organized public pressure became politically unavoidable.

The biggest threat to the process is public exhaustion and cynicism. When citizens conclude “nothing matters,” participation drops and influence becomes even more concentrated among wealthy donors and organized interest groups.

Democracy depends not only on laws but on public expectations:

  • that corruption should be exposed,
  • that institutions should face scrutiny,
  • that no individual is above accountability,
  • and that citizenship involves participation rather than passive observation.

When politics becomes pure spectacle dominated by celebrity billionaires, citizens can lose sight of that responsibility.

If citizens stop participating, concentrated power fills the vacuum automatically.

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith.com

NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT!

I DON’T THINK ABOUT AMERICANS’ FINANCIAL SITUATIONNOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT.

The most revealing moments in politics are often not the carefully written speeches or polished campaign ads. They are the unscripted comments that slip out when a politician answers quickly and speaks plainly. Oops! What did I just say? Not even a little bit?

That is why President Donald Trump’s recent statement hit so hard.

When asked whether Americans’ financial struggles were influencing his approach to negotiations with Iran, Trump answered: “Not even a little bit… I don’t think about Americans’ financial situation. I don’t think about anybody. I think about one thing: we cannot let Iran have a nuclear weapon.”

His defenders immediately argued that critics were taking the comment out of context. They say Trump was making a national security argument, not confessing indifference to ordinary Americans. Preventing Iran from obtaining a nuclear weapon, they argue, is more important than temporary economic discomfort.

That explanation may be fair. Context matters, but in this case I believe he is speaking his truth.

Words matter too.

Americans are exhausted. Grocery bills remain high. Rent and housing costs continue to climb. Credit card debt is growing. Families are working longer hours while feeling less secure. In that environment, hearing a president say he does not think about Americans’ financial situation lands badly no matter the intended meaning. As it should!

Leadership is not only about policy decisions. It is also about empathy. People want to believe their leaders understand what life feels like outside Washington. They want to hear that someone in power sees the pressure they are under.

This is not just about Trump. The reaction to his comment exposed something deeper: a growing belief that neither party truly understands ordinary people anymore.

Democrats seized on the statement immediately. Some mocked it online. Others argued Trump had “said the quiet part out loud.” Their criticism was politically predictable, but it also resonated because many Americans already feel disconnected from the political class.

Republicans mostly defended Trump’s intent while admitting the wording was rough. Some argued the media clipped the quote unfairly. Others said presidents sometimes must prioritize security over economics. That is true. National security decisions are rarely simple.

Still, the public frustration did not come from one sentence alone. It came from years of accumulated distrust.

Congress suffers from the same problem. Approval ratings remain consistently low because Americans increasingly see lawmakers as performers rather than problem-solvers. John Thune, Mike Johnson, Chuck Schummer, and Hakeem Jeffries are all actors in a play that has no role for ordinary Americans.

People watch endless partisan fights while basic concerns like affordability, healthcare, wages, and housing are unresolved. Many voters believe politicians spend more time protecting parties, donors, and media narratives than protecting citizens.

Whether that perception is entirely fair no longer matters. In politics, trust shapes reality. 

The danger for both parties is not simply anger. It is resignation. When citizens stop believing anyone in Washington genuinely cares about their daily lives, cynicism replaces participation. People disengage. Institutions weaken. Public trust erodes further. Citizens of America need to stay angry and demand their right to speak out, demand more from these actors, and vote for change even if it is just to change.

Ordinary citizens matter. Our congressman will not hold a town meeting because he does not want to hear points of view that differ from his own. So he ignores his constituents! Political disengagement thrives when people begin to believe their voices no longer matter, that government is too corrupt, too polarized, or to engaged in foreign policy matters to respond.

The most effective antidote is consistent civic participation at the local level, where ordinary citizens still have measurable influence. Voting in every election—not just presidential races—matters, but so does attending school board meetings, city council sessions, and town halls where decisions directly affect daily life. Citizens can organize around specific issues, support independent journalism, pressure elected officials through coordinated calls and public testimony, and build community groups that reconnect neighbors across political divides.

Democracy weakens when people retreat into cynicism and passive outrage online; it strengthens when citizens treat civic engagement as an ongoing responsibility rather than a once-every-four-years event. The reality is that disengagement benefits entrenched power, while participation—even imperfect participation—forces accountability.

Americans also need to hear something simple from their leaders: “We see what you are going through.”

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith.com

Social Security IS Being Ignored!

Political Cowardice At Work!

For millions of Americans, Social Security is not a side benefit or a political talking point—it is the backbone of retirement, disability support, and survivor income. Yet Washington often treats it as background noise: always discussed, rarely strengthened, and too often used as a bargaining chip while everyday people carry the risk.

Social Security is one of the most successful public programs in American history. It keeps older citizens out of poverty, supports disabled workers, and helps families after the death of a breadwinner. But despite its central role, government neglect shows up in several ways: chronic underfunding of administration, long wait times for disability claims, confusing communication, and endless political theater about “reform” that usually means benefit cuts rather than modernization.

When field offices close or staffing falls behind, the burden lands on ordinary people. A retiree trying to fix a payment error, a widow applying for survivor benefits, or a disabled worker waiting months for a hearing does not experience this as bureaucracy—they experience it as abandonment. A wealthy policymaker can hire help. Most people cannot.

The deeper failure is political cowardice. Leaders from both parties praise Social Security in speeches, then avoid the obvious choices needed to secure it long term: adjusting the payroll tax cap so higher earners contribute on more income, improving efficiency, protecting benefits from inflation shocks, and planning decades ahead instead of governing crisis to crisis.

Ignoring Social Security is also economically shortsighted. Every monthly check is spent in local communities—on rent, groceries, prescriptions, utilities, and transportation. Weakening the system hurts seniors first, but it also hurts small businesses and regional economies, especially in rural and working-class areas.

This issue is about priorities. Government moves quickly when markets wobble, defense contracts need approval, or tax advantages for the powerful are on the table. But when retirees need certainty or disabled Americans need timely decisions, suddenly patience is demanded.

A serious country would treat Social Security as core infrastructure: reliable, efficient, solvent, and protected. That means honest financing debates, modern customer service, stronger fraud prevention without punishing beneficiaries, and a commitment that earned benefits are not expendable.

ADDENDUM:  How the Social Security Trust Fund Actually Works

Strip away the political noise—this isn’t a piggy bank with cash sitting in it, and it’s not “empty” either. It’s a structured accounting system backed by law, taxes, and the full faith of the U.S. government.

1. Where the Money Comes From

Social Security is mainly funded through payroll taxes:

  • Workers and employers each pay 6.2% of wages (12.4% total).
  • That money flows into two trust funds:
    • Old-Age and Survivors Insurance (OASI) retirement and survivor benefits
    • Disability Insurance (DI) disability benefits

If you’re working, you’re paying in. If you’ve worked long enough, you’re earning eligibility.

2. What the “Trust Fund” Really Is

When Social Security collects more in taxes than it pays out, the surplus doesn’t just sit idle.

It is invested in special U.S. Treasury bonds.

Think of it like this:

  • Social Security lends its surplus to the federal government
  • In return, it gets interest-bearing Treasury securities
  • Those bonds are legally binding obligations

So, the “trust fund” is essentially a record of how much the government owes Social Security.

3. What Happens When Costs Exceed Income

Right now, Social Security is in a phase where:

  • It pays out more in benefits than it collects in taxes

To cover the gap:

  • The program redeems those Treasury bonds
  • The government pays that money back (from taxes, borrowing, or spending adjustments)

That’s how benefits keep flowing even when current tax revenue isn’t enough.

4. What “Running Out” Actually Means

You’ll hear that the trust fund could be depleted in the 2030s. That’s often misunderstood. (Reuters)

It does NOT mean:

  • Social Security disappears
  • Payments go to zero

It DOES mean:

  • The extra reserve (those bonds) will be gone
  • Benefits would rely only on incoming payroll taxes

Current estimates suggest that would cover roughly:

  • ~75–80% of scheduled benefits

So, the risk is a cut, not collapse. (NYTimes)

5. Why This Is a Policy Problem, Not a Mystery

This system is predictable.

Congress knows:

  • How much is coming in
  • How much is going out
  • When the gap grows

Which means:

Any crisis would be the result of political delay—not surprise

Fixes are well known:

  • Raise or eliminate the payroll tax cap
  • Adjust tax rates slightly over time
  • Modify benefits (targeted, not across-the-board)
  • Encourage higher workforce participation

Social Security is not being ignored because it lacks importance. It is being ignored because too many leaders assume the people who depend on it have nowhere else to go. That assumption will be politically dangerous.

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith.com

Endless Wars!

THE HIDDEN COSTS FOR AMERICANS

Americans are trained to fear dramatic catastrophes: Pearl Harbor, 9/11, a sudden invasion, a market crash. But the greater danger to the United States may be quieter and slower. It is not one decisive war. It is being drawn into a long era of interconnected conflicts with no clear victory, no honest withdrawal plan, and no public consent equal to the cost. An endless war.

Look around. Europe remains locked in war over Ukraine. The Middle East cycles through crises that threaten to widen by the month. The US and Israel are at war with IRAN and Hezbollah. Tensions in the Pacific simmer around Taiwan and maritime power. Cyberattacks, proxy militias, sabotage, sanctions, and disinformation campaigns now blur the line between war and peace. None of these theaters exist in isolation. Each affects the others through oil prices, alliances, military stockpiles, shipping lanes, and political attention.

This is how powerful nations become trapped—not by one wrong decision, but by dozens of “limited” commitments that accumulate into permanent strain.

The first casualty is clarity. What does victory mean in these conflicts? Is it regime change? Deterrence? Territorial restoration? Stability? Containment? Humanitarian relief? Too often Washington speaks in slogans while avoiding measurable goals. If leaders cannot define success, the public should assume they are preparing for endless management rather than resolution.

The second casualty is the American household. Every prolonged global confrontation has domestic costs. Defense budgets rise. Interest payments are growing. Infrastructure waits. Housing remains unaffordable. Healthcare costs climb. Schools strain. Citizens are told there is always money for emergency deployments but never enough for ordinary life. (Understanding the Price of War on American Budgets, 04/07/2026, wwwtmichaelsmith.com).  That contradiction breeds cynicism, and cynicism is poison to democracy.

The numbers are not abstract. The United States has spent over $8 trillion on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and their aftermath when including long-term obligations like veterans’ care and interest on the debt. Annual defense spending now exceeds $850 billion per year, rivaling Cold War peaks without a single declared, all-encompassing conflict. Support for Ukraine alone has already surpassed $100 billion, with additional commitments likely. (Reuters.org).

And the meter is still running. The Pentagon faces hundreds of billions more to replenish weapons stockpiles sent abroad, for instance. Veterans’ care for post-9/11 service members is projected to cost another $2–three trillion in the decades ahead. Meanwhile, rising interest payments on the national debt—fueled in part by war borrowing—are now approaching $1 trillion annually. (Reuters.org)

That $8 trillion is enough to write a check for $24,000 to every man, woman, and child in America—and still have money left over. Instead, it has disappeared into wars that never clearly ended. Endless wars.

These are not distant accounting figures. They show up as higher borrowing costs, slower wage growth, deferred infrastructure, and an economy more vulnerable to shocks from global instability—especially energy and supply chains.

Put plainly: war spending does not end when the fighting slows. It compounds. The bill arrives slowly, then all at once—and it is paid not just in dollars, but in deferred opportunity.

The third casualty is constitutional culture. Permanent external threats create permanent internal temptations: more secrecy, more surveillance, more executive power, less tolerance for dissent. Criticism is reframed as weakness. Debate is treated as disloyalty. Fear becomes a governing tool.

None of this means America should retreat from the world or abandon allies. It means seriousness is required. A mature republic distinguishes between vital interests and optional entanglements. It demands clear objectives before commitments. Additionally, it shares burdens with allies instead of carrying every load alone. It uses diplomacy not as surrender, but as strategy.

Most of all, it reminds me that national strength begins at home. A country with crumbling roads, indebted families, declining trust, and political paralysis cannot indefinitely police every crisis abroad.

Empires often imagine they fall in battle. More often they fade through exhaustion from endless wars.

America’s greatest risk is not losing one war. It is normalizing a condition in which warlike crisis never ends, victory is never defined, and the bill is always sent to the future.

The question citizens should ask now is simple: What are we trying to achieve in Iran, how long will it take, and what are we neglecting while we chase it?

If leaders cannot answer plainly, the country is already drifting.

T. Michael Smith

wwwtmichaelsmith.com