The Pointlessness of Billionaires and Politicians

 We’ve probably all fantasized about such a scenario at some point. The world is turning upside down, and while everyone else is running around like headless chickens, you’re as cool as a cucumber, descending into your secret, fully charged, reinforced bunker. The lights come on, the air purifiers hum, and you settle in with your freeze-dried lasagna, ready to weather the end of the world in relative comfort. Sounds pretty sweet, right? Now, let's take a moment to confront the harsh realities of the situation. Is the idea of a bunker appealing to you? It’s probably the most complicated, energy-consuming, and ultimately depressing dead end in the entire survival guide. The truth is that when a global disaster occurs, there is truly no escape—at least not in a meaningful way. And a bunker, far from being your salvation, can just be a costly, very lonely tomb. Why I Think So. The critical question is: how can one gain access to a bunker and remain safe inside it? First, let’s talk about the sheer logistics and cost. Building a bunker that could actually withstand a major apocalyptic event—think nuclear war, a supervolcano, or a pandemic that could destroy the world—isn’t just digging a hole and pouring concrete in. We’re talking deep underground structures, sophisticated air filtration systems (for radiation, pathogens, ash, and whatnot), self-sustaining power sources, massive water purification plants, and enough food and supplies to last for years, possibly decades. This isn’t a DIY project for your backyard. The result is an engineering marvel that costs tens, if not hundreds of millions, and maybe even billions for really sturdy bunkers. Therefore, that dream remains unattainable for approximately 99.999% of the population. But let's say you're one of the ultra-rich who can afford it. Great! Now, what about the big moment? The "event" happens. Are you in your bunker? Are you at home? Are you at work? On vacation? If you're not physically inside, good luck getting there. The world outside will be a mess, the roads jammed, and the communications systems down. Your impenetrable fortress is useless if you can't reach it. And even if you do manage to get inside, the problems don't stop. How long do you have supplies? Experts say you'll need at least two years, ideally five, given how long it might take for the outside world to become at least somewhat habitable. That's a lot of dry food, a lot of clean water, and many air filters. And please keep in mind the medical supplies. One serious infection, one broken bone, one appendicitis, and your perfectly sealed haven turns into a very unpleasant hospice.  Human psychology emerges as the most terrifying monster of all time. For the real horror show: your own mind. Imagine being isolated from the world, sometimes for months or even years, with a handful of other people (if you're lucky enough to have company). Forget about external threats for a moment. What about internal ones? The fever of isolation is real. Even under normal circumstances, confinement can lead to intense irritability, paranoia, and depression. In an apocalyptic bunker, under immense stress and without end, these emotions will be amplified a thousandfold. Disagreements over diminishing resources, personality conflicts, boredom, and existential dread will become commonplace. Without purpose, without natural light, without simply going outside, the psychological toll will be enormous. The suicide rate will likely increase dramatically. Even if you survive the apocalypse, will you really survive?  Why There's No Escape. However, the significant issue is that bunkers offer a false promise: you cannot remain underground indefinitely. Eventually, you have to emerge. And what do you immerse yourself in? Let's say the air is breathable, the radiation has dissipated sufficiently, and the zombies have, well, decomposed. What's left? A world completely transformed. Cities are in ruins. Infrastructure is gone. The skills needed to survive in a bunker (managing complex systems, monitoring air quality) are suddenly useless. Now you have to hunt, farm, build, find clean water without a massive filtration system, and defend yourself from other, potentially desperate survivors. You've survived the apocalypse, but you haven't escaped its aftermath. You're trading one terrifying scenario for another. You have successfully dodged the initial blow, only to step into a whole new ring with new, equally deadly challenges. This time, you are beginning anew, likely weakened, socially isolated, and mentally fragile due to your forced underground vacation. What is the point of surviving if there is nothing to live for? There is no society, no culture, no community, and no purpose beyond surviving biologically. The bunker offers temporary relief from the immediate threat, but it offers no solution to the long-term, fundamental human need for connection, meaning, and a functioning world. The real survival strategy is given to you by God, the creator, energy, or nature, as you were raised to call it. Therefore, the next time you imagine yourself in a bunker, remember to breathe. Instead of daydreaming about hiding, maybe focus on building resilience now. Learn practical skills, foster strong social connections, diversify your financial stability, and generally live a life that prepares you for any challenge, not just the one you can afford to hide from. But it makes sense when you vote for politicians who truly care about people and their future. Don’t vote for politicians who prioritize defense and strengthening their military arsenal. History shows that these leaders consistently fail, but only after causing significant suffering to the population.  In the face of a real global disaster, the harsh reality remains that there is no real way out. There is no real escape to a bunker, a spaceship, or anywhere else. 

Author: Sezgin Ismailov