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Support and subscribe at Underthrow.org.
H.L. Mencken said it best: “Every election is a sort of advance auction sale of stolen goods.” The old satirist wasn’t just being clever. He was being precise.
Here’s the thing: We elect representatives. But those representatives have a giant credit card. They have maxed it out and sent us the bill. We pay through taxation and inflation, but get almost no say in how the money gets spent. “Our democracy” is just theater—the illusion that we’re in control.
Sure, a handful of congressmen talk tough about fiscal responsibility. But their actions say otherwise. The incentives are too great. To stay in power, politicians have to auction power off to special interests. To stay in power, they have to horse-trade. And to horse-trade, they spend money we don’t have. They keep spending and spending—as the national credit card smokes.
Then the central bank prints more money. And for every dollar printed, your purchasing power shrinks. That’s inflation. And inflation is just taxation by other means. While politicians wheel and deal to keep their seats, the rest of us work harder for the same gallon of milk. A small circle of insiders gets richer. Then activists fight over the scraps.
Most people don’t see it. So, for relief, voters turn to the people causing the pain. The politicians offer programs, subsidies, stimulus—short-term painkillers that deepen the debt. Voters want goodies! Special interests want goodies! But nobody wants to admit we’re broke. The interest we have to pay on the debt is bigger than our military budget–and spiraling fast.
Our celebrated democracy quietly becomes a vast debtor’s prison attached to a giant treadmill. We’re all running on it. Taxes go up, or inflation goes up. We run faster and faster, going nowhere fast. Everyone screams to tax the billionaires. Yet economist Antony Davies ran the numbers: if you confiscated every dollar from every American billionaire, you could fund the federal government for only 9 months. Nine months. Then what?
Getting tired yet? More pain is coming. The only question is what form it takes—a slow bleed of rising prices, or a sudden collapse. Reality doesn’t negotiate. So we’re left with a choice. Do we stay in a system where everyone has their hands in someone else’s pockets? Or do we build something different—a system where you keep more of what you earn, where technology drives prices down, where money is worth saving again?
The incentives are powerful. The debtor’s prison is entrenched. Honestly, only a crisis will force real reform. Unless, that is, we can finish building the exit before the walls close in. A parallel system. Outside the debtor’s prison. Off the treadmill. Some of us are tired of running just to stay in place.
So what do we do?
Here’s a strange thing about people who actually change the world: they mostly didn’t fight the old system. They just quietly built a better one until the old one became irrelevant.
We’ve been trained to think that change requires permission—a vote, a regulation, a movement with enough mass to matter. But the real disruptions in history came from tinkerers, innovators, and bold communities doing something novel but modest—until suddenly it wasn’t.
What if we’re in one of those moments right now?
That’s the moment Underthrow is built for. Where every innovation is an act of subversion—where building something better is the argument, and the alternative to broken systems isn’t activism, it’s action.
This is what we were born for. Thomas Jefferson made freedom a dangerous idea. It still is. Not because it’s violent or extreme—but because we have to trust one another to build our future together without waiting for anyone’s permission. He called this the “consent of the governed.”
Once inside that frame, something shifts. Those who sign up to Underthrow aren’t signing up for content—they’re choosing the world they want to live in. If that resonates—you already think this way and looking for a home—give yourself permission to go all in.
Subscribe to Underthrow.org, where we criticize by creating.
By Max BordersSupport and subscribe at Underthrow.org.
H.L. Mencken said it best: “Every election is a sort of advance auction sale of stolen goods.” The old satirist wasn’t just being clever. He was being precise.
Here’s the thing: We elect representatives. But those representatives have a giant credit card. They have maxed it out and sent us the bill. We pay through taxation and inflation, but get almost no say in how the money gets spent. “Our democracy” is just theater—the illusion that we’re in control.
Sure, a handful of congressmen talk tough about fiscal responsibility. But their actions say otherwise. The incentives are too great. To stay in power, politicians have to auction power off to special interests. To stay in power, they have to horse-trade. And to horse-trade, they spend money we don’t have. They keep spending and spending—as the national credit card smokes.
Then the central bank prints more money. And for every dollar printed, your purchasing power shrinks. That’s inflation. And inflation is just taxation by other means. While politicians wheel and deal to keep their seats, the rest of us work harder for the same gallon of milk. A small circle of insiders gets richer. Then activists fight over the scraps.
Most people don’t see it. So, for relief, voters turn to the people causing the pain. The politicians offer programs, subsidies, stimulus—short-term painkillers that deepen the debt. Voters want goodies! Special interests want goodies! But nobody wants to admit we’re broke. The interest we have to pay on the debt is bigger than our military budget–and spiraling fast.
Our celebrated democracy quietly becomes a vast debtor’s prison attached to a giant treadmill. We’re all running on it. Taxes go up, or inflation goes up. We run faster and faster, going nowhere fast. Everyone screams to tax the billionaires. Yet economist Antony Davies ran the numbers: if you confiscated every dollar from every American billionaire, you could fund the federal government for only 9 months. Nine months. Then what?
Getting tired yet? More pain is coming. The only question is what form it takes—a slow bleed of rising prices, or a sudden collapse. Reality doesn’t negotiate. So we’re left with a choice. Do we stay in a system where everyone has their hands in someone else’s pockets? Or do we build something different—a system where you keep more of what you earn, where technology drives prices down, where money is worth saving again?
The incentives are powerful. The debtor’s prison is entrenched. Honestly, only a crisis will force real reform. Unless, that is, we can finish building the exit before the walls close in. A parallel system. Outside the debtor’s prison. Off the treadmill. Some of us are tired of running just to stay in place.
So what do we do?
Here’s a strange thing about people who actually change the world: they mostly didn’t fight the old system. They just quietly built a better one until the old one became irrelevant.
We’ve been trained to think that change requires permission—a vote, a regulation, a movement with enough mass to matter. But the real disruptions in history came from tinkerers, innovators, and bold communities doing something novel but modest—until suddenly it wasn’t.
What if we’re in one of those moments right now?
That’s the moment Underthrow is built for. Where every innovation is an act of subversion—where building something better is the argument, and the alternative to broken systems isn’t activism, it’s action.
This is what we were born for. Thomas Jefferson made freedom a dangerous idea. It still is. Not because it’s violent or extreme—but because we have to trust one another to build our future together without waiting for anyone’s permission. He called this the “consent of the governed.”
Once inside that frame, something shifts. Those who sign up to Underthrow aren’t signing up for content—they’re choosing the world they want to live in. If that resonates—you already think this way and looking for a home—give yourself permission to go all in.
Subscribe to Underthrow.org, where we criticize by creating.