Am I supposed to be really into Universal Basic Income or what? Because after hearing Andrew Yang talk about it for the millionth time—we get it, you want to give people $1,000 per month—I’m increasingly bored. Forget bored, that’s not really a political position any of us should tolerate. I’m just not sure it makes sense.
Let me break down for you the UBI ideal: You get a lump sum from the government and you determine how to spend it. The underlying philosophy is that you are the best person to manage your money. You know when to pay the bills and when to splurge on triple-ply toilet paper. It bolsters personal autonomy; it shows respect for the recipient; it’s cash in the pocket.
But implementing UBI is an enormous commitment. Yang’s plan would cost nearly $4 trillion per year, which is almost the entire federal budget. This little piece of the puzzle is something I don’t hear many UBI fans talk about because, if it almost costs the entire federal budget, then that means a whole bunch of other things will have to be cut.
From where I stand, that whole bunch of other things is what makes society work. UBI defenders rarely talk about what will happen to other social services. One grand per month would be meaningful if people have universal health care. If not, that $1,000 per month isn’t going to cut it if, say, you break your arm walking offstage from a mime show (this happened to me in high school).
And where does $1,000 a month leave us when it comes to unemployment insurance or a higher minimum wage? If you live in New York City and lose your job, $1,000 will not keep you afloat. You still need a social safety net. I suspect the Mark Zuckerbergs and Elon Musks of the world—both UBI fans—like the libertarian ideal of giving people power over their own expenditures but not the liberal ideal of providing a safety net when the chips are down due to miming injuries.
The top 10 percent doesn’t need an extra $1,000 per month. I would rather see the bottom 10 percent get $2,000 and the top 10 percent get nothing.
I am not one of those people who think the poor can’t make good economic decisions, that they’ll just spend the money on drugs or frivolity. As a former broke person who also didn’t have health insurance, whenever I had an infusion of cash I paid the bills. The bills ate away at me; they hovered over me like a dark cloud; they shortened my telomeres or whatever it is that anxiety does.
There are even fresh stats to prove that broke people make rational decisions. Under a pilot program in Stockton, California, 125 residents were given $500 per month. Preliminary data suggests they’re spending the extra money on food, clothes, and bills. Of course they are. Who wants to keep shortening those telomeres?
But UBI seems strangely regressive. The top 10 percent doesn’t need an extra $1,000 per month. A thousand bucks to a rich person might just mean an extra Hermes bag, unless they’re really great rich people like Tom Hanks—he seems like the kind of guy who would donate his dividend to something social justice-y. I would rather see the bottom 10 percent get $2,000 and the top 10 percent get nothing.
(I am, however, a fan of tuition-free college. Yes, rich people’s kids would benefit from that, but education is a civic ideal, and tuition-free college is an extension of K-12 public education. Everyone should have access to it.)
The way we talk about Universal Basic Income now is, we’ll give you this $1,000 if you shut up. It’s payola for not asking for social services. Jimmy Two Fingers will give you one-g if you don’t say a word about paid family leave. And do you know why he’s called Jimmy Two Fingers? Because he doesn’t have health insurance and he lost two fingers.
I love talking about grand ideas like Universal Basic Income. Let’s keep figuring out ways to make this a more perfect union. But while it seems like a hot topic now, we should really be asking: What do we lose if UBI is what we gain?