The Unspoken Third Party: Billionaires
By Lawson Brooks III | Intersection DC
Every election cycle, many of us obsess over the activities of Democratic and Republican candidates and policymakers. The horse-race coverage, the endless polling, and the partisan bickering in the halls of Congress, on cable news programs, and across social media reinforce the impression that our democracy hinges entirely on the maneuvering of red- and blue-aligned actors and interests.
While the Green, Libertarian, and Constitution parties operate on a multistate level, American politics remains dominated by the Democrats and the GOP, the only two viable entities on the field. Yet an emerging and potentially dominating force is making its presence felt—one that never campaigns, never debates, and never asks for your vote. It is the billionaire class.
In 2024, just one hundred billionaire families spent $2.6 billion on political contributions, accounting for roughly one-sixth of all election spending. These are not ordinary donations. They are policy-shaping investments. Billionaires are not merely participating in politics—they are writing the rules of the game. Elon Musk alone gave nearly $291 million during the last cycle. Ken Griffin, Michael Bloomberg, Paul Singer, and Reid Hoffman collectively poured in hundreds of millions. And these are only the names we know.
This is not philanthropy; it is governance in disguise. Campaign donations are merely the opening act of a larger drama. Waiting in the wings is a sprawling infrastructure of influence that directs the plot of American politics. Think tanks producing white papers to justify positions, lobbying firms securing backroom deals, foundations reshaping public discourse, and media platforms amplifying preferred narratives are all under their control.
When Musk took over Twitter and rebranded it as X, it was not merely a business move. It was a restructuring of the global town square, placing one man’s ideology in charge of what billions of people read, share, and believe. In an age where narratives shape elections as much as ballots, control of the platforms that frame them is raw political power.
In the nineteenth century, political machines like Tammany Hall controlled cities through patronage. They traded jobs for votes, favors for loyalty. Today, billionaires operate machines of a different order—sleeker, national, and infinitely more powerful:
Tech moguls elevate or suppress voices through the algorithms of social channels.
Hedge fund titans flood super PACs with dark money that drowns out ordinary citizens.
Philanthropists steer universities, nonprofits, and cultural institutions toward their preferred agendas.
These machines do not need votes. They run on capital, not consent.
Yet somehow these alliances have successfully peddled a myth of balance to the American public. Defenders of the status quo argue that billionaire influence cuts both ways. George Soros, the “leftist bogeyman” as described by those on the right, bankrolls progressive causes, while the Koch network fuels conservative ones. Does that balance the scales? Not really. The very premise that public policy is set by whoever has the deepest pockets erodes democracy.
Shadow financing alone hit $1.9 billion in the 2024 cycle. While voters may cast their ballots every two or four years, billionaires vote every single day through contributions, policy pressure, and media influence. That is not balance; that is leverage, which always tilts toward those who already have power.
Why does the United States remain the only developed nation without universal healthcare? Why is climate action perpetually stalled? Why is gun reform perpetually paralyzed? Follow the money.
Billion-dollar insurance and pharmaceutical lobbies dictate health policy. Fossil fuel magnates bankroll climate denial and regulatory rollbacks. The gun lobby, backed by deep-pocketed donors, holds reform hostage despite overwhelming public support for common-sense measures.
We are not merely electing leaders anymore. We are electing managers of a system run by money hoarders. Democracy has been put on a short leash, tethered to those with the resources to pull hardest.
No group feels the weight of billionaire dominance more than Black, Brown, and poor Americans. When the wealth barons kill universal healthcare, it is poor families, disproportionately Black and Brown, who are left rationing insulin, skipping checkups, or choosing between medicine and rent. Life expectancy gaps widen while oligarchs fund think tanks to argue that healthcare is a “privilege” rather than a right.
When fossil fuel magnates block climate action, it is poor neighborhoods, often communities of color that breathe polluted air, live near toxic plants, and endure “heat island” effects without green space or resources to escape. The ultrawealthy summer in the Hamptons; the poor swelter in substandard housing in underserved neighborhoods without air conditioning.
When billionaires rewrite labor laws in their favor, it is the working poor, warehouse workers, janitors, and home health aides who suffer wage theft, unsafe conditions, and union-busting. Moneyed elites donate millions to strip away the very rights that could help workers earn a living wage.
The Supreme Court’s Citizens United decision opened the gates, and the capital barons responded by flooding politics with money. That ruling has ensured that, for the foreseeable future, campaign priorities will continue to tilt toward the wealthy, leaving marginalized communities fighting for scraps. Student debt relief? Criminal justice reform? Affordable housing? These are afterthoughts compared to tax breaks for private equity and subsidies for tech giants. The unspoken third party does not just bend democracy; it breaks it on the backs of those with the least power.
Now we are in the era of the “Billionaire Presidency.” Donald Trump was the prototype. Michael Bloomberg tested the waters. Elon Musk teases the possibility with every provocative post. It is only a matter of time before another plutocrat mounts a serious White House bid. At that point, voters will not just be choosing a president. They will be choosing between rival billionaires’ competing visions of America.
Think about the implications: policies framed not around the needs of the many but the whims of the few. Public priorities reduced to the vanity projects of men who already have more wealth than they could spend in a dozen lifetimes.
Americans have always distrusted concentrated wealth. From Theodore Roosevelt’s trust-busting to Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, from the civil rights movement’s economic justice demands to Occupy Wall Street’s “We are the 99%,” resistance to oligarchy runs deep.
But we are also a nation that idolizes tycoons—treating them as visionaries, innovators, even saviors. That tension makes them uniquely dangerous. They are cast as problem solvers, when in reality philanthropy is not accountability.
Building a hospital wing does not entitle anyone to write national health policy. Funding scholarships does not excuse labor intimidation. A rocket launch does not make anyone the arbiter of climate action. The question is not whether billionaires do good with some of their money. It is whether their money should entitle them to dictate the direction of an entire democracy.
Is reform possible? Yes, but it will be difficult.
Campaign finance reform. Close super PAC and dark money loopholes that allow billionaires to spend unchecked.
Wealth taxes. Not only to raise revenue but to curb the disproportionate influence of extreme wealth.
Transparency rules. Require disclosure of political donations not just by individuals but also by corporations and nonprofits funded by billionaire dollars.
Digital governance. Treat social platforms as utilities—public squares that cannot be controlled by the ideology of one man with too much money.
None of this will happen without public pressure. The question is whether Americans will see billionaire dominance as a feature of democracy or as its fatal flaw.
The 2026 midterms will be awash in billionaire money. Economic elites will decide which candidates get airtime, which policies dominate the agenda, and which issues fade into the background.
If we ignore this reality, we will continue to debate around the margins while the real decisions are made in private boardrooms. Black, Brown, and poor Americans will continue to carry the heaviest burdens, while the gilded few continue to buy access, shape law, and tilt democracy further in their favor.
The unspoken third party may not appear on the ballot, but its fingerprints are everywhere.