On Bunkers and Billionaire Exit Strategies

The billionaire with the bunker in New Zealand isn't actually preparing for the apocalypse.

Not really.

He's telling us a story.

It's a story about scarcity and exclusivity, about knowing something others don't, about having options when others won't.

The ultra-wealthy don't build elaborate escape plans because they necessarily believe society will collapse tomorrow. They build them because these fortresses represent the ultimate luxury: guaranteed safety when everything else fails and the world goes to shit.

These bunkers, missile silo condos, and private islands are status symbols.

Possibly, the ultimate status symbols.

Consider: Most billionaires made their fortunes by betting on human connection, on networks, on civilization itself improving. Their wealth depends on functional markets, on people buying things, on shared infrastructure.

So why do the same "geniuses" who invest millions in consumer tech startups also invest millions in off-grid compounds with years of supplies?

It's not because they're hedging their bets.

It's because they can afford to indulge in contradictions the rest of us cannot afford to even imagine.

The wealthy prepper doesn't ask themselves uncomfortable questions about societal resilience. That's for suckers. They skip directly to their personal solution.

It's easier to build a high wall than to strengthen the foundation everyone stands on.

Always has been.

Enough digital ink has already been wasted on the details of wealth extremists' elaborate preparations - the underground hydroponic gardens, the medical suites, the security systems - I'm more interested what these preparations tell us about how differently some people see their connection to everyone else.

For most of us - decent folks, rational folks - our survival is linked to our community's survival. We intuitively understand this. And we embrace it, instead of finding ways to pass the buck and dodge the responsibility.

The escape hatch mindset thinks differently. It says: When things break, if things break, I won't be part of the collective we that suffers.

It's a damn shame.

We don't need hoarders with one foot out the door. Lord knows, we don't need billionaires in the first place.

We need people who are so invested in our future that the thought of escaping it alone becomes unthinkable. People who are in it for the long haul, ready to break a sweat with the rest of us.

People who give a damn.

The assholes building bunkers have already, in some essential way, left the rest of us behind.

I like to imagine there's a parable here, something Aesop missed. Once upon a time, a very clever fox spent years building an elaborate den to protect himself from a coming storm. He stocked it with provisions, fortified the walls, and installed a sophisticated air filtration system against poison gases. Don't ask me how, he majored in engineering at MIT. When the other animals asked about his curious project, the fox would tap his temple knowingly but say nothing.

The day the storm finally arrived, the fox hurried to his shelter, sealed the fifteen-ton blast door, and smiled with self-satisfaction as he heard the winds howl outside. Three days later, when he emerged, he discovered the storm had been rather mild. The other animals had simply huddled together, keeping each other warm.

The fox had missed the party.

Nobody even noticed he was gone.

When they realized he was back, they ate him.

So it goes.