The “politics of envy” argument goes something like this: if you notice that billionaires have more money than you could earn in ten thousand lifetimes, you’re just jealous. You’re not observing structural inequality, wage stagnation, or the fact that Jeff from Accounting pays more tax proportionally than a guy who owns a fleet of yachts—you’re just envious. It’s basically gaslighting, but with cufflinks.

It’s a brilliant rhetorical trick, really. Instead of addressing people’s legitimate frustration that the system is tilted toward the ultra-rich, it reframes it as a character flaw. “You’re not underpaid and exploited—you’re just bitter that your private jet doesn’t have a gold-plated toilet.” By that logic, if your house burns down and you complain that the fire department didn’t show up, you’re not concerned about civic failure—you’re just jealous of people whose homes are still on fire in a more respectable zip code.

The “politics of envy” line isn’t an argument; it’s an emotional deflection designed to make moral questions sound like mood swings. It’s the verbal equivalent of a trust fund kid saying “you’re just mad because my dad’s better at capitalism than yours.”

LLM