By James J. Devine
In a nation where the median household net worth hovers around $192,900, the United States Congress has become a bastion of wealth and privilege, with the majority of its members boasting net worth in the millions.
This staggering wealth gap between lawmakers and the people they represent raises a critical question: Can a Congress dominated by millionaires truly understand—let alone advocate for—the struggles of ordinary Americans?
The numbers don’t lie.
According to recent disclosures, the median net worth of a member of Congress is well over $1 million, with some lawmakers, like Senator Rick Scott (R-FL) and former Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA), owning fortunes over $200 million. Members of the United States House of Representatives and Senate are paid $174,000 more than triple the average American’s median annual wage of just $48,060, an amount that leaves many struggling to make ends meet amid rising costs of housing, healthcare, and education.
This disconnect isn’t just symbolic—it’s systemic, and it’s eroding the very foundation of representative democracy.
The wealth disparity between Congress and the American people is more than just a talking point—it’s a crisis of representation.
When lawmakers are insulated from the financial realities faced by their constituents, how can they possibly craft policies that address the needs of the working class, the poor, or even the middle class? The answer is simple: they can’t.
Competitive House candidates spend $5 million to $10 million or more, while hot Senate campaigns can easily cost over $50 million or more spent by candidates, PACs (Political Action Committees), and outside groups.
Consider the priorities of the wealthy elite who dominate Congress.
Tax cuts for corporations and the ultra-wealthy, deregulation of industries, and policies that protect capital gains are often at the top of their agendas. Meanwhile, issues like affordable healthcare, student debt relief, and living wages are frequently sidelined or watered down. This isn’t governance—it’s plutocracy masquerading as democracy.
Some argue that the wealth of Congress is a reflection of merit—that these individuals have earned their fortunes through hard work and ingenuity. But this narrative ignores the structural advantages that come with wealth, from access to elite education networks to the ability to self-fund political campaigns.
It also overlooks the fact that income inequality is, to a significant degree, heritable. Studies have shown that genetics and family background play a substantial role in determining economic success, meaning that the wealth of many lawmakers is as much a product of privilege as it is of personal achievement.
This isn’t to say that wealth is inherently evil or that self-interest is synonymous with greed. But when the pursuit of wealth becomes an end in itself, divorced from the needs of the broader society, it undermines the social contract.
As behavioral economists have noted, the heritability of income suggests that economic success is not primarily a matter of individual effort but is deeply intertwined with systemic factors that perpetuate inequality.
Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs teaches us that once basic physiological and safety needs are met, humans seek belonging, esteem, and self-actualization.
But what happens when wealth becomes the sole measure of success? For many in Congress, the pursuit of wealth seems to have eclipsed the pursuit of the common good. This isn’t just a moral failing—it’s a political one.
Napoleon Bonaparte, one of history’s most powerful figures, never achieved self-actualization despite his immense wealth and influence. His story serves as a cautionary tale: the relentless pursuit of power and wealth can lead to isolation, dissatisfaction, and ultimately, failure.
Similarly, a Congress obsessed with wealth and status risks losing touch with the very people it is meant to serve.
The solution to this crisis is not to vilify wealth but to demand accountability and transparency from our elected officials, and for citizens to awaken to their culpability for perpetuating a system in which they are simply not represented.
Term limits, stricter ethics regulations, and campaign finance reform are essential steps toward creating a Congress that truly represents the American people. We must also encourage candidates from diverse socioeconomic backgrounds to run for office, ensuring that the voices of the working class and the poor are heard in the halls of power.
The American dream is not a zero-sum game. It is possible to create a society where wealth is not concentrated in the hands of a few but is shared by all. But achieving this vision requires a Congress that is not only capable of understanding the struggles of ordinary Americans but is also committed to addressing them. Until then, the millionaire Congress will remain a symbol of a broken system—one that prioritizes the interests of the wealthy over the needs of the many.
The time for change is now. The question is: Will we demand it?