If We Can Fund Billionaires, We Can Fund Housing
Let’s Cut the Bullshit.
We live in a world where billionaires get tax breaks, corporations get bailouts, and the ultra-rich hoard wealth at a scale so obscene it could single-handedly solve homelessness a hundred times over. And yet—somehow—we’re still debating whether we can afford to house human beings.
Every year, cities and governments funnel billions into incentives for developers, subsidies for corporations, and tax loopholes that ensure the wealthiest never have to pay their fair share. Meanwhile, those at the bottom are left to scrape by in a system designed to grind them into the pavement.
The money exists. The resources exist. The only thing missing? The political will to stop treating homelessness as an inevitability instead of what it is—a policy choice.
We Are Funding the Wrong People
If a billionaire loses money, we call it a crisis. If a corporation struggles, we call it a national emergency. But if a person loses their home, their job, or their stability? We call it their fault.
Jeff Bezos was handed a $600 million contract from the U.S. government for cloud computing.
Elon Musk’s SpaceX got $5 billion in federal contracts before its rockets could even launch properly.
The banking industry gets trillions in bailouts when their own reckless greed causes financial collapse.
And what do we get?
"Sorry, there's no budget for public housing."
"Sorry, shelters are full."
"Sorry, mental health services are underfunded."
Bullshit. The money is there—we just refuse to spend it on people who need it the most.
Housing Shouldn’t Be a Privilege
Let’s be clear: Homelessness is not a personal failure. It is a systemic failure.
There are 16 million empty homes in America. That’s enough to house every single homeless person 20 times over.
The government already spends more on policing homelessness than it would cost to house people. (Because apparently, jailing the poor is a priority, but housing them isn’t.)
The cost of homelessness to taxpayers is astronomical—emergency room visits, incarceration, and social services all add up to far more than simply providing permanent housing.
We could end homelessness tomorrow. Not in a decade. Not in five years. Tomorrow.
How? By shifting money from the pockets of billionaires and into Housing First policies—proven, data-backed solutions that permanently house people and support them in rebuilding their lives.
But instead of doing what works, we waste money on sweeps, tent bans, and criminalizing poverty—because the goal has never been to fix homelessness. The goal has been to make it invisible.
A System Designed to Keep You Desperate
Homelessness isn’t just about a lack of housing—it’s about control.
When housing is unaffordable, when wages are stagnant, when social services are gutted, the message is clear: Stay in line. Accept your crumbs. Be grateful you’re not on the street.
It’s fear-based governance. A society where people are so afraid of losing what little they have that they won’t dare question those who have too much.
And that’s exactly why homelessness persists.
It is not an accident. It is a manufactured crisis that benefits landlords, developers, and the ultra-rich who thrive on scarcity. They keep housing expensive. They keep wages low. They keep assistance out of reach.
Because the more desperate people are, the more exploitable they become.
The Time for Excuses Is Over
If we can afford to send billionaires to space, we can afford to fund housing.
If we can afford endless wars, we can afford to fund housing.
If we can afford corporate bailouts, we can afford to fund housing.
The problem isn’t money. The problem is priorities.
So, what are you going to do about it?
Are you going to sit back and let another winter pass while human beings freeze on sidewalks?
Are you going to accept a world where billionaires collect handouts while families sleep in their cars?
Are you going to let another politician tell you we “can’t afford” to house people while they vote for yet another corporate tax cut?
Or are you going to raise hell until something changes?
Because make no mistake—change doesn’t come from silence. It comes from disruption. From pressure. From the absolute refusal to accept injustice as normal.
And if you’re not part of that fight, you’re part of the problem.
Now, which side are you on?
