Financially independent politicians have an "escape hatch" unavailable to careerists. When faced with intense political pressure, isolation from their party, and public attacks, they can simply choose to leave. The misery of politics is judged against the alternative of a comfortable life, making resignation a constant temptation.
Extreme wealth creates a dangerous societal rift not just through inequality, but by allowing the ultra-rich to opt out of public systems. They have their own concierge healthcare, private transportation, and elite schools, making them immune to and ignorant of the struggles faced by the other 99.9%, which fuels populist anger.
A strategic reason for a leader to resign is to de-escalate public tension. After a crisis, the leader can become a symbol of that difficult period. By stepping down, they absorb the negative sentiment, lower the political temperature, and allow their organization to move forward.
If you're miserable in a job but financially unstable, 'just quitting' is impractical. The solution is a 'practical quit': aggressively apply to hundreds of other jobs first. This channels frustration into massive action instead of dwelling in complaints. It prioritizes securing an alternative—even an imperfect one—before leaving a stable paycheck, combatting the inertia of complaining.
The appeal of a populist leader lies in their rejection of traditional political norms. When the electorate feels betrayed by the established "political class," they gravitate toward figures whose rhetoric is a deliberate and stark contrast, signaling they are an outsider.
The super-rich lose empathy not necessarily because they are bad people, but because their lifestyle systematically isolates them from common experiences. With private airports, healthcare, and schools, they no longer participate in or understand the struggles of mainstream society. This segregation creates a fundamental disconnect that impacts their worldview and political influence.
Beyond the desire for success, the intense fear of embarrassment and public failure can be an incredibly potent motivator. For high-profile individuals, the social cost of failure is so high that it creates a forcing function to succeed at all costs.
When a defining career ends, the biggest struggle is often existential, not financial. Our culture fuses identity with profession ('what you do is who you are'), creating a vacuum when the job is gone. This leads to profound questions of self-worth, value, and purpose that transcend money.
Curtis Sliwa reveals a direct bribery attempt by billionaires offering him $10 million in cash to drop out of the New York City mayoral race. This highlights the extreme, often criminal, lengths to which wealthy interests will go to influence even local political outcomes and silence populist candidates.
Despite his status, President Biden struggles to secure the lucrative speaking engagements and book deals that enriched his predecessors. His situation reveals that personal brand and perceived "draw" are critical for monetizing a political career, proving that high-profile fame does not automatically translate into financial success.
Political allies often remain silent critics until a leader's power begins to wane. The recent increase in Republicans publicly questioning Trump's economic grasp demonstrates this principle. This belated courage is more about political survival and opportunism than genuine conviction, emerging only after the personal risk has subsided.