DAVID MARCUS: Why Abdul El-Sayed's anti-billionaire screeds may not play in Grand Rapids
- Abdul El-Sayed, Democratic Senate hopeful, rails against billionaires while local families like Devos, Van Andel, and Meijer have poured billions into Grand Rapids' museums, libraries, and civic infrastructure.
- The city's booming economy and vibrant public institutions are directly credited by locals to these wealthy families' 'noblesse oblige,' undermining the socialist narrative that wealth hoarding is the norm.
- Even safe Democratic voters in Michigan express concerns about income inequality but reject the venomous class warfare rhetoric coming from El-Sayed, AOC, and Bernie Sanders.
- El-Sayed's proposed solution of funneling that private wealth through government bureaucracy ignores the simple, efficient 'fill the gaps' approach that philanthropy provides.
- Republican candidate Mike Rogers is urged to hammer this contrast: demonizing billionaires would dismantle the very engine of Michigan's civic success.
Brief Summary
The column confirms that Grand Rapids is a thriving urban oasis, a throwback to bustling American cities with full sidewalks and brimming businesses. The real plot twist? The locals credit the city's success not to government programs, but to a handful of billionaire families—the Devoses, Van Andels, and Meijers—whose names are emblazoned on the town's finest institutions. From a construction worker noting that half his projects bear these names to a museum docent praising their gap-filling generosity, the evidence on the ground contradicts El-Sayed's claim that billionaires shouldn't exist.
El-Sayed's 'socialist hokum' implies that civic wealth should be confiscated and redistributed by the state, but Grand Rapids shows the alternative works better. The article contrasts the left's performative outrage with Michigan's practical results: billionaires plant the seeds for the millionaires everyone wants, and they do it without the endless red tape. While some locals, like Democrat Maggie, acknowledge stark disparities between $60,000 homes and $6 million lakefronts, they aren't calling for the guillotine—a nuance El-Sayed's firebrand rhetoric misses entirely.
Why This Matters
Put down your latte and listen up: this isn't just some Midwestern love letter to the rich. This is a cold dose of reality for anyone who thinks 'tax the billionaires out of existence' is a winning campaign platform. If a city's entire civic fabric—from its museums to its medical centers—is stitched together by a few wealthy families, then abolishing billionaires isn't just radical; it's a demolition plan for public goods. The story challenges the progressive fantasy that Washington can replace local philanthropy without crushing bureaucracy and inefficiency.
For you, the reader, this is about the age-old trade-off between ideological purity and tangible results. El-Sayed's war on wealth might play well in a Brooklyn cocktail party, but in Michigan, it means alienating the very donors who fund the public library. Whether you cheer for the billionaires or just begrudgingly admire their buildings, the article forces you to confront an inconvenient truth: your city's nice things probably have a rich person's name on the plaque. If you vote to erase them, you might just erase the park you take your kids to.