Recently, Elon Musk became the world’s first trillionaire. A trillion dollars is beyond my comprehension level, but The Guardian newspaper interprets Musk’s $1.1 trillion to be more than the Gross Domestic Product of all but 21 nations. The paper further explained the immensity of his wealth by saying Musk could spend $1 million a day for 2,700 years without going broke.
No one individual should be this wealthy. The temptations to misuse such colossal financial power are too many to expect any human to rise above them. And the cries of millions of destitute, homeless and starving people around the world declare that financial inequality is more than a “problem”; it is a global catastrophe.
On the other hand, there are folks like me whose bank account is still intact and has a little jingle to it. By world income averages, I’d probably rank as a “rich American.” By my accounting, I’m “getting by.”
But apparently to every center-left politician in America this means I fall into the “prime potential donor” category. Not one day goes by without a crammed inbox and text messages overflowing from political candidates asking for $20 or even $5 (plus the appreciated $5 handling fee). The scare tactic most often used is that they are being outspent by their opponents, with millions being dumped into attack ads to defeat them. Won’t I help bail them out and give them a fighting chance against the lying fat cats who are trying to buy this election?
The embarrassing truth is, several months ago I slacked off sending money to any of them. For one thing, it didn’t matter whether I sent them $20 or $100, their appeals continued to arrive as though I’d not given a dime. Besides, I can’t singlehandedly fund candidates in Alaska, Texas, Ohio, Georgia and North Carolina. Sorry, my bucket ain’t that deep!
Which brings me back to Elon Musk, whose bucket is that deep. And we are fools to imagine he and his unnumbered wannabes aren’t going to spend every dollar necessary to see elections go their way. (It’s reported Musk gave $290 million to elect Donald Trump and other Republican candidates.) Which means my piddling $20 or $1,000 donations accomplish squat.
So, here’s a know-nothing’s suggestion. Why not set a price on the presidency? On a senatorial seat? On a governor’s chair?
“If, therefore, no limit can be set on contributions given, can we not limit sums spent?”
I have no idea what obscene sums are now being spent to win any of these races, but after the Citizens United ruling of the Supreme Court there seems no way to limit contributions to campaigns. If, therefore, no limit can be set on contributions given, can we not limit sums spent?
What would happen if the USA set a limit on how much any candidate and their far-flung organizations could spend in their efforts to elect her or him? For example, let’s say no more than $500 million could be spent by any presidential campaign in the general election, that no more than $250 million could be spent by any senatorial campaign in the general election. The figure could be adjusted annually just like the cost of living but in no case could a campaign spend more than $50 per registered voter (or some sensible number) in their respective districts, states or nation.
In this schema, campaigns would be obliged to raise their war chest at the campaign’s launching and report their sums, as they do now, to appropriate authorities. But the campaigns would now be required to report periodically all their expenditures as well. If a candidate, prior to or after the election, is found to have spent more than the maximum figure, they must immediately withdraw from the election or the office.
I am certain there are countless reasons why my suggestion is dead on arrival. Gerrymandering of electoral districts already has voided the significance of the votes of millions of Americans. Must we also continue to bear the theft of any financial significance in the selection of our leaders?
I am convinced democracy is dead unless we find some way to keep the millionaires, billionaires and trillionaire from swamping the selection of our leaders. When average citizens like me begin to feel that neither our dollars nor our votes truly makes one bit of difference, democracy already is dead.
J Daniel (Dan) Day is pastor emeritus of First Baptist Church (Salisbury St.) of Raleigh, N.C, whose cancer story is told in his 2024 book: At the River I Stand: Conversations with God about Dying and Living.


