“Mr. Osnos, you grew up in Greenwich—a small, very wealthy town in Connecticut that is also home to many well-known billionaires. When were you last there?
It’s been a while. I’d estimate it was around 2024.
What has changed since you left?
Greenwich, too, became increasingly caught up in the political polarization visible across the country. If you look back 25 years, it was a town of moderate Republicans—people in the mold of George H. W. Bush, who valued cooperation and strongly believed in fostering education, science, and the like. In short, classic moderate American conservatism. But that has shifted.
Prescott Bush was an influential figure in Greenwich. Legend has it that he once dressed down men in his country club’s locker room because one of them had told a lewd joke in front of his son, George H. W.—the future president. The current U.S. president said in a video that if you’re rich and famous, you can do anything to women—quote: "Grab them by the pussy." That didn’t stop Greenwich Republicans from supporting Trump. What happened to America’s elite?
Yes, there has been a shift among the wealthy Americans once known as "country-club Republicans." That shift is undoubtedly reflected in the microcosm of Greenwich. What used to be the exception has become the norm, and what was once the norm has become the exception. Initially, people in Greenwich were very hostile toward Trump. They made fun of him; he was mocked in the local paper. Yet, eventually, some of those very people began speaking of him with admiration, and some became staunch supporters. One of his fiercest local critics was even appointed ambassador by Trump.
Fifty years ago, General Electric was one of America’s most important companies. Reginald Jones, the company’s CEO at the time, lived in a modest house in Greenwich. In one of your writings, you mention billionaires who garden. It is hard to imagine Tim Cook or Sundar Pichai doing that. Was wealth more integrated into society back when you were growing up there?
Of course, wealth was always very visible and present in the past, too, but I do think it didn't stand so far above the rest of society—or remain so separate from it—as it does today. If someone felt the urge to throw all restraint to the wind, there was still a sense of social shame that acted as a check. Social norms, style, or—let’s call it—the "fashion of morality" demanded modesty. Flaunting one’s wealth openly was considered obscene. There was an old saying in Greenwich that the town’s wealthy residents looked just like the gardener.
When did that change?
I think the shift began slowly, decades ago. You might remember the movie *Wall Street*. The character Gordon Gekko is famous for the line: "Greed is good!" And with his expensive suits and slicked-back hair, he put all that greed on display. When the film came out in the eighties, people in Greenwich wanted nothing to do with that; they would have said, "That’s not our style." But more and more people grew up in a world where that kind of idea—greed and the ostentatious display of wealth—resonated strongly. It was about presenting oneself as free from rules, free from all constraints. Previously, that would have been seen as a pathetic sign of insecurity. That is how the rules changed.
Do you have any idea why?
There is a rather famous figure in the financial world, John Bogle. He once looked back on his long career and said: "When I entered the financial industry half a century ago, there were things that simply weren't done. Today, the prevailing attitude is: "If everyone else is doing it, why shouldn't I?" I think there is something to that: there is a subtle tipping point where a culture’s moral compass shifts—when indecency becomes so commonplace that society begins to view it as the norm. Once that takes hold, you can justify actions that were previously considered moral misconduct. That is why it matters when someone at the very top of society—like the president—lacks moral principles. People will draw their own conclusions from that.
Do you have a personal story about this?
I once spoke with someone from Greenwich who was involved in the "Varsity Blues" scandal. That affair involved wealthy Americans who cheated on admissions exams. They paid money to get their children into better universities. The case made headlines. I asked one of the fathers who had to go to prison for it: What were you thinking? How did you come to believe that was a good idea? And his answer was quite revealing. He said he had become convinced that others were cheating too. So, he didn't want to be the last one left out. It’s a downward spiral.
Reginald Jones earned about thirteen times as much as a junior manager at the company. That was quite common back then. In 1965, a CEO's salary was about twenty times that of an ordinary worker; today, it is nearly 300 times higher. Has the connection to ordinary people been lost?
Yes, without a doubt. Many things that are currently very popular among the ultra-wealthy have something to do with losing touch with the world around them.
For example?
The market for superyachts is booming like never before. A yacht is a very tangible way to detach yourself from the country you live in. You become, quite literally, a person without national borders. People who build doomsday bunkers are another example. That, too, is partly about losing the connection to the experience of being part of a community and solving problems before they escalate into catastrophe. People who go to great lengths to avoid paying a fair share of taxes have—not least—lost sight of what it means to be a citizen. Taxes are "what we pay for a civilized society," as Oliver Wendell Holmes put it—a famous Supreme Court justice. But he wrote that in 1927; norms have shifted since then.
The market for doomsday bunkers is booming in the US. Some billionaires are paying a fortune for a place where they would be safe should society collapse. Are these merely the excesses of a few eccentrics?
No, I think there is a widespread feeling among billionaires that social tensions are rising and that they could become targets of public anger. However, it is likely only a small group that actually takes concrete preparatory measures.
You once spent the night in one of these bunkers. What is it like?
The bunker is located in an old nuclear missile silo—perhaps 17 or 18 stories underground. It is quite luxurious inside. There are things they call "windows"—though in reality, they are screens—showing images of the world above as it existed before the collapse. And it was extremely quiet. I have to admit, though, that I also felt a sense of security, knowing there were armed guards up top to protect the bunker in the event of a hypothetical attack.
Investing millions in a place like that implies a very strong emotion. Where does this fear come from?
Many of the ultra-wealthy succeeded in business because they have a keen sense of shifting public sentiment. Now, many sense a growing anger—anger linked to their own business activities. Yet, strangely enough, they do nothing to address these negative consequences. Instead, a large segment of the tech elite frames technological developments as inevitable. Some told me: "We know artificial intelligence will put many people out of work and spark anger directed squarely at us in Silicon Valley." But in the very next breath, they don't say: "That’s why we’ve developed this or that measure to cushion the impact."
Yet a billionaire’s status depends on a functioning state. After all, the state secures property rights and enforces them if necessary. So, holing up in a bunker doesn't seem like a very promising strategy to me entrench themselves.
Some have developed very peculiar mindsets, viewing things like government and the law as enemies of their success rather than as necessary ingredients. Elon Musk and Peter Thiel are famous for this. They regard many rules and regulations as manifestations of a tyrannical, dictatorial state. Consequently, they have embraced a radical form of liberalism. To my mind, this is a misinterpretation of history and reality. Yet, they possess the money and power to surround themselves exclusively with people who share their views.
In the past, giving back to the community was a strategy used to smooth things over—for instance, through donations to hospitals or libraries.
I believe there is still a great deal of philanthropy in the US; it is deeply rooted in American culture. However, charitable giving among the young super-rich has indeed declined. We are certainly observing this. And it is a trend worth keeping an eye on. Some of the world’s most famous people right now—Elon Musk, for instance—argue that philanthropy isn't all that important. Or, to be more precise: he argues that there is no better way for him to help humanity than by serving as CEO of Tesla—certainly not through philanthropy.
Many of today’s tech billionaires became wealthy very young and very quickly. Does that affect their sense of responsibility?
Yes, I can imagine that plays a role. Take Mark Zuckerberg. I don’t think he ever set out to be someone with a strong sense of social responsibility. He wanted recognition for his technical talents. His education was cut short and served only his personal ambitions. It must be a strange experience to go suddenly from being a teenager to someone responsible for a massive technological enterprise that impacts people's lives. He finds it annoying that people expect him to have the same deep awareness of political and social issues as he does of technology. At least, that was my impression from our conversations.
Germany once had the ideal of the "honorable merchant"—someone who takes responsibility for society and the environment. Is that concept obsolete?
I am a great believer in Robert Putnam’s ideas. He sees a constant ebb and flow of social responsibility among the elites throughout American history. Right now, we are at a low point. Among the wealthy, the pendulum has swung far toward a libertarian view of the state and government. But history teaches us that this will generate public pressure. We are already seeing the Democrats responding much more strongly to populism. They are now speaking very openly about how billionaires are amassing too much power and influence. And my sense of history tells me that a number of entrepreneurs will recognize the moment and try to revive that ideal of the "honorable merchant." People will love them for it. It would be good for society and—quite honestly—good for business, too.
Interview by Nicolas Kurzawa. About the Author
Evan Osnos has been working for the renowned US magazine *The New Yorker* for nearly twenty years. His work has won the Pulitzer Prize twice and the National Book Award. His latest book, *Yacht oder nicht Yacht: Nachrichten aus der Welt der Ultrareichen* [Yacht or No Yacht: Dispatches from the World of the Ultra-Rich], was published in German this year by C.H. Beck Verlag. [1]
1. Was ist aus Amerikas Eliten geworden, Herr Osnos?: In Greenwich lebten reiche Republikaner früher ein bescheidenes Leben. Heute ist von dieser Welt kaum etwas übrig. Evan Osnos ist dort aufgewachsen. Ein Gespräch über den Wandel der amerikanischen Elite. Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung; Frankfurt. 03 June 2026: 19.
Komentarų nėra:
Rašyti komentarą