Why Feed the Poor When You Can Fund Another Superyacht? UBI Says Hi

 

So here we are, in the twenty-first century, patting ourselves on the back for being the most advanced species on the planet. We’ve got rockets casually heading to Mars, artificial intelligence that can paint, write, and even steal your job, and billionaires competing in what looks like an intergalactic pissing contest to see who can reach space first. And yet, in the same world where Jeff Bezos can afford a superyacht so big it needs its own baby-yacht, nearly 700 million people are still living in extreme poverty, surviving on less than the price of a cheap coffee a day. What a spectacular accomplishment for humanity, right? Progress at its finest.

But wait, it gets better. According to the World Bank, about 18 million people die every single year because of poverty. That’s not car crashes, not wars, not natural disasters, just good old-fashioned “we don’t have enough money to feed or treat you.” Out of these, about 11 million are children under the age of five. Children. Dying. Because the system is designed to ensure that some people get too much cake while others can’t even lick the crumbs off the floor. Bravo, capitalism. Truly inspirational stuff.

Now, let’s talk about the magicians, the top 1%. These are the folks who can turn loopholes, inheritance, and tax havens into gold faster than you can say “Cayman Islands.” Collectively, this tiny sliver of the population controls nearly half of all the wealth in the world. Meanwhile, the bottom 50%, you know, the rest of us peasants, barely manage to hold onto 1.2% of global wealth. It’s like showing up to a dinner party where one guy eats the entire turkey, drinks the wine, grabs dessert, and then throws the bones at everyone else, telling them to be grateful for the “opportunity.” And the best part? We applaud them. We call them “self-made.” We put them on magazine covers. Never mind that most of them were born into obscene wealth or mastered the art of avoiding taxes better than Houdini dodged handcuffs.

Meanwhile, we peasants work ourselves to death, literally. Millions live paycheck to paycheck, hoping the roof doesn’t cave in when the rent’s due. People work two, three jobs, and still can’t afford decent healthcare, or education, or even a stable diet. But hey, if you buy enough self-help books, you too might unlock the secrets of “financial freedom.” Spoiler alert: the real secret is being born rich. Shocking, I know.

This is where Universal Basic Income (UBI) comes in. Oh yes, the idea that everyone should receive a basic, unconditional sum of money, just enough to ensure they don’t starve, don’t freeze, don’t get evicted, and maybe even buy a cup of coffee without sweating over it. Sounds radical, doesn’t it? Giving people money so they don’t die? Who would’ve thought of such madness? And yet, it’s one of the simplest solutions to one of humanity’s oldest problems. Poverty exists not because the world doesn’t have enough resources but because the world doesn’t know how to share without gatekeeping.

Critics love to whine that UBI would make people lazy, as if billions of humans are secretly dying to quit their jobs and spend eternity binge-watching Netflix. Reality check: most UBI pilots and experiments, from Finland to Kenya to India, showed that people didn’t stop working. In fact, they used the money to improve their lives, start small businesses, pay for education, or just buy food and medicine. People didn’t suddenly devolve into couch potatoes; they became more human. But of course, it’s easier to imagine hordes of freeloaders than accept that people, when given dignity, tend to act responsibly.

And let’s address the elephant in the room: how do we pay for this? Ah, yes. The classic question asked only when it comes to helping the poor. Strangely, no one bats an eye when

trillions are spent bailing out banks, funding wars, or giving tax cuts to billionaires. But suggest spending money to stop millions from dying, and suddenly we need a twelve-step budgetary approval process. Let’s be honest—funding UBI isn’t a question of resources. The world is drowning in money. It’s a question of priorities. Tax the billionaires. Close the loopholes. Stop treating corporations like spoiled children who throw tantrums if asked to contribute. The money is there; it’s just stuck in offshore accounts and vanity projects.

Let’s not pretend we don’t know how wealth accumulates at the top. The richest get richer through compounding assets, stock buybacks, and playing a global game of Monopoly where they own not only Boardwalk and Park Place but also the dice, the bank, and the rulebook. The rest of us? We’re stuck hoping we can at least pass “Go” and collect $200 without being slapped with a medical bill or an eviction notice. And if you think the system is rigged, congratulations, you’re right. It is.

Now imagine a world where, no matter what, you had just enough to live. Not lavishly, not extravagantly, but with dignity. A world where no child goes to bed hungry, where no family chooses between rent and medicine, where basic survival is a right, not a privilege. That’s the promise of UBI. It doesn’t fix every problem, greed, corruption, and inequality won’t vanish overnight, but it gives humanity a fighting chance. It’s the safety net under the tightrope, so when people fall (and they do), they don’t splatter.

But here’s the funniest part: UBI is ridiculously simple. It doesn’t require some bureaucratic nightmare of means-testing, eligibility checks, or moral policing of the poor. No need to prove how miserable you are to qualify. No more humiliation of filling forms to show you’re “worthy” of a little help. Everyone gets it. Rich, poor, middle-class, doesn’t matter. And by giving it to everyone, you eliminate the stigma and resentment that plague traditional welfare. It’s elegant, it’s efficient, and it’s humane. Naturally, that’s why it terrifies the powerful.

Because let’s be honest: poverty is profitable. Entire industries are built on exploiting desperation. From payday lenders to privatized prisons, from underpaid gig work to overpriced healthcare, the system thrives on keeping people just desperate enough to keep grinding. Introduce UBI, and suddenly the bargaining power shifts. Workers can say no to exploitation. People can walk away from miserable jobs. That’s not laziness, that’s freedom. And freedom, my dear reader, terrifies the ruling class more than anything.

And so, we’re stuck in this absurd loop. Billionaires accumulate yachts that require their own yachts. Governments pour billions into weapons while hospitals can’t afford basic equipment. Children die because their parents earn less in a month than Elon Musk spends on a dinner. And the rest of us are expected to clap, call it progress, and be grateful for the “opportunity” to hustle until our backs give out. But suggest UBI suggest, heaven forbid, that people deserve not to starve, and suddenly you’re branded as radical, naïve, or a dreamer.

But maybe dreaming is exactly what we need. Maybe the real insanity is accepting a world where 18 million people die every year of poverty while a handful of individuals hoard more wealth than entire nations. Maybe the radical idea isn’t UBI, it’s believing that the current system is sustainable. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

So here’s the punchline. Humanity has built a world where abundance exists, where technology can replace drudgery, where resources are plentiful, and yet, millions die because we’re too stingy to share. The solution is embarrassingly simple: give people money. Not

yachts, not Lamborghinis, not gold-plated toilets, just enough to live. Enough to eat, enough to sleep under a roof, enough to dream about something beyond survival.

And maybe, just maybe, one day, instead of being remembered as the species that conquered space but couldn’t stop children from starving, we’ll be remembered as the species that finally realized dignity shouldn’t be optional. Until then, keep clapping for billionaires launching rockets while people starve. After all, sarcasm is free, but UBI could actually save lives.