“Social Security is the biggest Ponzi scheme of all time.”
Elon Musk, February 28, 2025
For elected officials here in the U.S., Social Security is much like a live power line: touch it and they’re done. Social security, along with Medicare and Medicaid, is one of those sacred vessels of American life. It’s not just beloved; it is sacrosanct.
Thus, for a foreign-born oligarch like Elon Musk to disparage it as a “scheme” has become anathemic. As something of a pseudo-president, Musk is head of the newly created Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), which has taken a hacksaw to a number of departments within the federal government. The declared goal is to reduce bureaucratic weight by slashing jobs and merging together certain divisions within the system. Nowhere in this morass of right-wing blather is a dedication to make people like Musk and their corporations to pay their share of taxes. But that’s a different issue.
To place things in proper perspective – and put elected officials like Trump in their place – social security has too many safeguards to be considered a Ponzi scheme. Before the Social Security Act of 1935, a large number of older Americans lived in abject poverty. At the time it was common for families to take in older relatives. But some people simply didn’t have that support and they were left to fend for themselves. The concept of providing for those who simply couldn’t work or take care of themselves is nothing new. Various societies throughout history have considered the fragilities of the human condition and sought to alleviate those difficulties. It is simply immoral to abandon those who can’t care for themselves. It’s also rather easy to look at those who won’t take care of their own lives and group them with the others.
The Social Security Act has been amended several times since 1935, but it differs from a Ponzi scheme in many ways.
1. Social Security is not fraudulent
A Ponzi scheme is a deliberate a fraud intent to mislead investors.
2. Social Security’s operators do not take a cut
Unlike with Ponzi schemes, Social Security is not a profit-generating gamble, and the officials who run it do not take a portion of it for themselves.
3. Social Security is operated in the open
Social Security is a transparent, government-run program with clear funding mechanisms.
4. Social Security has built-in oversight
Unlike a Ponzi scheme, Social Security has many layers of oversight, auditing, regulation and legal and financial systems in place to ensure accuracy and transparency.
5. Social Security offers realistic returns
The goal of Social Security is to provide basic income replacement, not to generate get-rich-quick returns. Ponzi schemes often promise unrealistically high gains.
6. If financially stressed, Social Security can adjust funding and/or benefits
A fiscal imbalance in Social Security can be corrected, but a Ponzi scheme can’t. Social Security beneficiaries can’t demand to be paid a balance in their account if they suspect something is wrong. There can’t be a “bank run” on Social Security, and problems ultimately can be resolved.
It doesn’t surprise me that Trump and the Republican Party are targeting Social Security, or rather that conservative Republicans in general haven’t struck back at the president. Social and political conservatives have always been leery about government programs designed to help people. Before Franklin R. Roosevelt’s “New Deal” policies (designed and implemented to address the brutal impact of the Great Depression), government’s primary purpose was to enact laws and collect taxes. The collapse of the U.S. stock market in 1929 and the subsequent financial calamities that ensued changed that mindset – at least among the more open-minded. Social Security was just one project resulting from such forward thinking.
In 1944, Congress passed the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act (later known as the GI Bill) to assist those returning from military service during World War II. It provided a myriad of aid and services to these individuals, such as education and housing. Again, many conservatives denounced it as welfare.
Similar criticisms befell Lyndon Johnson’s “Great Society” some two decades later. From this massive undertaking, we got Medicare and Medicaid. But, as Johnson declared, the government should ensure both “liberty and abundance” for all citizens – not just those who can afford it. And as before, critics deemed it socialized medicine.
While it’s surprising that the U.S. federal government can operate with such alleged overspending – a bloated bureaucracy – it does provide substantial safety and security to most everyone here. The attack on Social Security is monstrous. Trump has sworn to leave it alone, but I personally don’t trust him.
I’m fast approaching the official retirement age of 62, yet I know I won’t be able to sit back in my quiet suburban home and embark on my dream life of being a full-fledged writer. The Social Security system is supposedly insolvent. Raising the official retirement age (as many, including Musk, have suggested) or reducing benefits won’t repair that problem. Funding for the Iraq War alone could have made Social Security fiscally viable for generations. Still, the program must be handled with care. Touching it irresponsibly is, indeed, akin to touching that live power line.
“Thank you,” muttered the pastor, already looking more tired than when the service started. “Now, would anyone else like to say a few last words before we proceed to the cemetery?”
I took a deep breath and stood. “Yes, I would.”
“Very well.”
I looked briefly at the crowd and swallowed hard. “I have to say my friend was a unique individual.”
Obnoxious little bastard!
“He never seemed to meet a stranger.”
Only made friends if they could do something for him.
“He could be funny and engaging.”
And rude and stupid!
“I always had the best time with him.”
If he didn’t run out on the tab – which he did more than once!
“We even thought of going into business together at one point.”
He had the looks, but I had the brains.
“A graphic arts business.”
Bastard wanted to turn it into a porn thing.
“It was a great idea, and I knew we’d go places with it.”
After a while, I wanted his ass to go straight to hell!
“I think we did our best, but you know how everything looks great on paper!”
He kept screwing up things!
“Still…I was sad when he got sick.”
Payback, bitch!
“I just keep thinking of those better times.”
Good one.
“And wished…in a way, he was still here.”
What?!
“Yeah, I do.”
Okay, now you’ve lost it!
“I know that sounds odd.”
That’s one way of putting it!
Everyone looked at me…confused.
Now you have their attention.
“Yeah…despite everything, I already miss him.”
More quizzical stares.
You know they’re going to talk about you after this is over, don’t you?
“I don’t care.”
Oops! Didn’t mean to say that out loud!
“Excuse me.” I couldn’t help but notice the raised brows and twisted mouths.
Might as well keep going.
I turned to the photo beside the coffin. “Goodbye, my friend. I hope to see you on the other side.”
And you really mean that?
“I really mean that.”
Several people turned to look at me. I didn’t care. As big a pain in the ass as he was…I already miss my friend.
March 15 – Everything You Think Is Wrong Day; Ides of March
March 16-22 – World Folktales and Fables Week
March 16 – Everything You Do Is Right Day; Freedom of Information Day
March 17 – St. Patrick’s Day
March 19 – International Read to Me Day; Let’s Laugh Day
March 20 – First Day of Spring (Northern Hemisphere); First Day of Fall (Southern Hemisphere); Extraterrestrial Abductions Day; International Day of Happiness; World Storytelling Day
When I saw the two orbs of light some distance ahead of me, I knew what that meant. ‘That’s a car!’ I told myself. And it’s in my lane! No! I’m in the wrong lane! Goddamn!
It was a Saturday night, sometime around 1988, and I was happily enjoying alcohol. In other words, I was drunk off my ass. I learned the phrase “enjoying alcohol” when I joined a fraternity a few years earlier. As I previously wrote, that was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. Even now, at age 61, I still feel it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.
Dumb in that it led me to that point: driving while heavily intoxicated. I was on my way home following an after-work party of some kind. I’d brought a jug of white wine to the affair, and – except for giving a small amount to someone else – I downed every drop of the beverage. Once I realized that car was headed towards me (or me towards it), I quickly moved into the correct lane. I was fortunate. Even in that disoriented state, I’d become aware something was wrong.
I’d have many more nights like that – not driving in the wrong lane; rather, having consumed too much alcohol. I’ve lost many weekends and more than a few week days because of my addiction.
And yes, it’s an addiction. I admitted that years ago. But it was a matter of time before I sought to address it. That matter of time has taken years though. Late last year I had my regular doctor to prescribe acamprosate, a medicine designed to reduce alcohol cravings. Like most anything regarding healthcare, it’s merely a crutch; an item utilized to help someone move to the next stage of…whatever. I’ve also admitted something else – I’ll never get over my alcohol cravings. I can only minimize my consumption. Going “cold turkey” – whatever that’s supposed to mean – isn’t practical for me. Or possible. Once addicted, always addicted. In this case, it really does come down to will power. I know that’s such a cliché. My mother told me she began smoking cigarettes in the 1950s. Her father told her it’s okay to have a habit…as long as the habit doesn’t have you. My grandfather had given up the nicotine habit years earlier, while still living in México City, when someone referred him to a local Indian soothsayer for help. She composed a tea-like concoction for him, which made him extremely nauseous. He said he vomited for several consecutive days. Afterwards, he never craved cigarettes again. I thought about that off and on as I continued my battle against alcohol.
There are too many situations to detail here. One Saturday night around 1990 a female friend and I visited a Dallas nightclub that sold minimum-price mixed drinks for a short time after opening. We each consumed so much that, when we exited the club and made our way to my car, we passed out and slept for a few hours. When I awoke, it was just before 5 a.m. local time.
One weekday night around 1996, I decided to visit a bar after work, instead of coming home and going to the gym, as I’d originally planned. I had a few Bacardi and Cokes before returning to my quaint apartment in North Dallas. Then, for some reason I still can’t explain, I suddenly had the urge to kill myself. It was an overwhelming sensation. I needed to die. My life wasn’t worth continuing. Damn! So close to the turn of the century! I kept thinking I should walk to a pay phone at a nearby convenience store and call for help – if only to have someone talk me out of that madness. But I didn’t. I managed to calm myself down.
That madness has occurred periodically over the ensuing years. I confessed years ago that I definitely have a problem with alcohol. Taking my own life to compensate for it has provided some respite for it. Taking acamprosate isn’t like taking an antibiotic – a life-dependent medication – it’s more like a vitamin. I should take it regularly – but it’s not THAT important.
It guess it should be.
I’m drinking red wine as I write this essay. To anyone who has an addiction, understand it will never really leave you. The key element truly is will power…the will to live and experience what this life has to give. I’ve dealt with this – and so can anyone else. You, too.
Anyone who has kept up with the egg crisis here in the U.S. knows this could be the perfect Valentine’s Day gift. Remember – it’s always the thought that counts!
If you have no major projects scheduled in the near future, consider taking on this challenge from the Smithsonian Institution. They’re offering USD 1 million to anyone who can figure out what this ancient manuscript says. For more than a century, no one has been able to decipher the various symbols carved into these tablets from the Indus Valley civilization. The Bronze Age society flourished in the northwestern regions of Southern Asia from roughly 3300 BCE to 1300 BCE. As one of the world’s first large-scale urban cultures, they developed grid-based layouts, standardized weights and measures and elaborate drainage and even sewer systems; domesticated animals; and of course, created a logosyllabic writing system.
The prize announcement actually comes from M.K. Stalin, an official with the Indian state of Tamil Nadu. Recent archeological examinations noted similarities between the Indus script and early writing from Tamil Nadu, despite the considerable geographic distance.
Researchers at Tamil Nadu’s Pondicherry University digitized 15,000 graffiti-marked pot shards from 140 archaeological sites in Tamil Nadu and compared them against 4,000 examples of the Indus Valley script. They found that nearly 60 percent of the signs matched and 90 percent shared “parallels”. Despite the intensive scrutiny, the Indus markings remain enigmatic.
Hence, the reward!
Personally, I’d take on the challenge, since I love a great mystery and harbor a fascination with ancient cultures. But sometimes I even have trouble figuring out my own dreams! See what you can do!
As many of you might remember, one of my best friends, Robert, died last October. Late on December 23, I learned that another long-time, close friend, Carl, died earlier that day. We had met in 1990 at the bank where we both worked. We bonded over such mundane things as rock music and being Texas natives.
Last month I was equally startled to find out another longtime friend, Randy, had died following a freak accident at home; he fell down some stairs and never regained consciousness. He passed away just days before his birthday. We had met through a local Toastmasters group in 2001. A veteran of the U.S. Post Office, Randy had finally retired a few years ago.
Thus, since October, I’ve lost three friends – and my already small social circle has decreased even further. Damn!
As my parents often said, it’s hell getting old! And here’s another adage: aging isn’t for wimps!
But, as I’ve discussed with a few friends over the past couple of years, I’m at that age where I lose relatives and friends to death and not because I owe them money. It’s part of life.
In the late 1990s I saw a program on TV about people pushing the centenarian point in their lives and what their longevity secrets were. None seemed to possess any mystical key to putting mileage on their personal odometers, but they all had one unique attribute that can’t be measured in facts and statistics. They were able to accept the death of loved ones with few questions. It hurt, of course – but they understood such things happen. Our present realm is often brutal and cold. People die.
But people certainly live. And we can’t truly live if we break down every time someone we know and love leaves permanently.
Last year I came across an online editorial that noted millennials are referring to the 1980s and 90s as the “late 1900s”. Well…they are! And, as I told a close friend, I’m glad I lived through them! So did he – who will be 60 next month.
I told that same friend, as well as a few others, that I’m happier now than I have been in years. I have the same feeling that I did around the turn of the century, when the world seemed wide open and the future belonged to everyone with dreams.
Recently Ann Telnaes resigned her position as a political cartoonist for The Washington Post – a role she’d held for 16 years – in protest over the newspaper’s refusal to publish this cartoon. It apparently offended the oligarchs who have taken seats at Donald Trump’s table, including Amazon found Jeff Bezos who owns The Washington Post.
Good for her! In an environment increasingly hostile to free speech and free press, with right-wing extremists banning books instead of childhood hunger, it’s great that someone has the backbone to stand up to the madness. Here is Telnaes’ editorial explaining her decision.
Chief Writing Wolf 