• Childfree people may be saving too much and spending too little, one financial planner says.
• Childfree Wealth's Jay Zigmont said people without kids who don't want to pass on wealth should spend it.
• He recommended they help others early in life, keep a cash cushion, and plan for long-term care.

Many childfree people should be spending more and saving less, one financial guru says.

One reason they may be too frugal is conventional financial plans often assume people have kids or want them, meaning those without children get a lot of "bad advice," Jay Zigmont, the author of "The Childfree Guide to Life and Money," said on a recent episode of Morningstar's "The Long View" podcast.

While parents often set financial goals with the intention of leaving money to the next generation, that often isn't a priority for people without kids, Zigmont said. Focusing on how to maximize their health, their wealth, and their time is often a better option, he said.

The certified financial planner, who holds a PhD in adult learning, said he and his wife plan to give whatever they leave behind to their nephews. "If they get $10,000 or $100,000, that's fine. But if they get $1 million, we made a mistake," he quipped.

Moreover, many of Zigmont's childfree clients don't plan to retire fully but instead plan to "dial back on work rather than a complete cutout."

Zigmont said if they don't want a load of money to their names when they die, and they plan to work until late in life, that changes the calculus for their spending.

He simulated one client's wealth trajectory over their lifespan, and found they were on track to die with $100 million. The client laughed when he said they have a "$100 million problem," Zigmont recalled.

"If your goal is not to leave a whole lot of money to your estate or wherever else it is, you are saving money and investing it in a way it doesn't match your goals," he said.

Minimum spending goals

Another client still buys frozen blueberries because they're a "dollar cheaper" than the fresh ones, and a third with tens of millions of dollars to their name is "still cutting coupons," Zigmont said, underscoring how hard it can be to break a saving habit.

He works with clients to set minimum rather than maximum annual spending goals to help them bend their net-worth curves and avoid accumulating wealth they don't want.

"I had a client the other day, like 'You'd be proud of us. Last year we spent double what we did the year before!' And I'm like, 'Yes, and we're celebrating it,'" Zigmont said.

The personal finance guru also touched on a mid-life crisis that many childfree people have where they've hit many of their life goals in their 30s and 40s and begin wondering what they're going to do with the rest of their lives.

"Those are the tough questions that we as childfree people are answering much earlier that often parents don't answer until the empty nest phase," Zigmont said.

Lend a hand early

He addresses the problem by asking people, "What's the second line of your obituary say?" That helps them to figure out what's meaningful to them, and where they should devote their time and energy.

Zigmont offered a raft of advice for childfree people, such as helping others early in life instead of waiting until you die, maintaining a cash cushion to avoid going broke, and taking out a long-term care policy in the absence of family care. He also recommended writing a will, appointing an executor, and allocating financial and medical power of attorney to ensure one's affairs are handled after death.

Shrewd planning can help those without children make the most of their freedom when young while ensuring they're set for old age and beyond.

It's well-established that, on the whole, Americans die younger than people in most other high-income countries. For instance, an analysis from 2022 found that the average life expectancy of someone born in Switzerland or Spain in 2019 was 84 years. Meanwhile, the average US life expectancy was 78.8, lower than nearly all other high-income countries, including Canada's, which was 82.3 years. And this was before the pandemic, which only made things worse for the US.

Perhaps some Americans may think that this lower overall life-expectancy doesn't really apply to them if they're middle- or upper-class. After all, wealth inequality and health disparities are huge problems in the US. Those with more money simply have better access to health care and better health outcomes. Well-off Americans live longer, with lifespans on par with their peers in high-income countries, some may think.

It is true that money buys you a longer life in the US. In fact, the link between wealth and mortality may be stronger in the US than in any other high-income country. But, if you think American wealth will put life expectancy in league with Switzerland, you're dead wrong, according to a study in the latest issue of the New England Journal of Medicine.

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• Walmart heiress Alice Walton is the richest woman in the world, with an estimated $101 billion net worth.
• She spends some of her fortune collecting art, including opening a museum, as well as breeding horses.
• Here's a look at her life, career, and fortune.

Alice Walton, the only female heiress to the Walmart fortune, is the richest woman in the world.

The three Walmart heirs — Rob Walton, Jim Walton, and Alice Walton — have a combined wealth of $320 billion, according to Forbes' billionaires list.

The 75-year-old Alice Walton has an estimated fortune worth $101 billion as of April 1, 2025 and ranks 15th on Forbes' list. She's the richest woman in the world, ahead of L'Oréal heiress Françoise Bettencourt Meyers, whose net worth currently stands at $81.6 billion, according to Forbes.

Walton's fortune grew $28.7 billion this year as Walmart's stock rose 40%, Forbes estimated.

Despite the Waltons' high status, their personal lives remain largely private. Here's what we know about how Alice Walton spends her fortune, from collecting expensive art to breeding horses:

Alice Walton, the only daughter of Walmart founder Sam Walton, is the world's richest woman.

Walton and L'Oréal heiress Françoise Bettencourt Meyers regularly alternate in the #1 spot; Walton passed Bettencourt Meyers in recent months.

Unlike her brothers, Rob and Jim, Alice Walton has never taken an active role in running Walmart and has instead become a patron of the arts.

Walton fell in love with the arts at a young age, according to a New Yorker profile. When she was 10, she bought her first work of art: a reproduction of a Picasso painting for $2, she told the publication.

After graduating from Trinity University in San Antonio, Texas, in 1971, Walton briefly entered the family business, working for Walmart as a buyer of children's clothes, she told The New Yorker.

But her career really began in finance, which led her to founding Llama Company, an investment bank, in 1988.

She has been married and divorced twice and has no children.

Walton has an immense private art collection, with original works from legendary American artists including Andy Warhol, Norman Rockwell, and Georgia O'Keefe.

"Collecting has been such a joy, and such an important part of my life in terms of seeing art, and loving it," she told The New Yorker.

In 2011, she opened a $50 million museum called Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas, to house her $500 million private art collection.

Walmart is headquartered in Bentonville. When the museum opened, it had four times the endowment of the famous Whitney Museum in New York.

In 2014, the Walmart heiress dropped $44.4 million on a piece of artwork by Georgia O'Keeffe.

It was the most expensive sale of a work of art by a female artist in history. Walton later put it on display at her museum in Arkansas.

Walton has donated millions to the arts and other causes.

In January 2016, Walton donated 3.7 million of her own Walmart shares — worth about $225 million at the time — to the family's nonprofit, the Walton Family Foundation, Fortune reported. The next year, the charity gifted $120 million to the University of Arkansas to establish a School of Art.

She used to sit on the foundation's board of directors alongside four other Waltons.

Walton also has her own charitable organization, the Alice L. Walton Foundation, which donates to causes including the arts, education, and health, according to its website.

Walton has also put some of her money into politics.

She has traditionally given to Republican candidates and PACs, though Walton donated $353,400 to the Hillary Victory Fund, a joint fundraising committee supporting Clinton and other Democrats, in 2016, according to Forbes.

The two women met while Clinton was serving as First Lady of Arkansas and was the only woman sitting on Walmart's board.

Walton has been active in the horse breeding scene in Texas, but in 2015 she said she was going to devote more of her time to her Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art.

"I've been stretched in too many directions and I want to get focused," Walton said, according to the Fort Worth Star-Telegram in 2017. "I've got a house in Fort Worth, so I'm moving to town."

In 2017, she sold her Millsap, Texas ranch for an undisclosed amount. The Rocking W Ranch had an initial asking price of $19.75 million but was later reduced to $16.5 million. The working ranch boasted more than 250 acres of pasture and outbuildings for cattle and horses.

She'd also put another Texas ranch, the 4,416-acre Fortune Bend Ranch, on the market around the same time.

She also cut its listing price, to $22.1 million. The property has a modest three-bedroom home overlooking nearly five miles of river frontage.

Walton also bought a two-floor condo on New York City's Park Avenue for $25 million in 2014.

The condo, which had been owned by late financier Christopher H. Browne, has more than 52 large windows overlooking Central Park and the city, as well as a media room and a library.

In 2015, protesters gathered outside Walton's building to demand a $15 minimum wage for Walmart employees. In 2023, the median wage for workers at Walmart, the world's largest private employer, was $27,642.

In 2021, the Alice L. Walton School of Medicine was founded.

It received preliminary accreditation status from the Liaison Committee on Medical Education in 2024, allowing it to start recruiting students.

"I'm so proud of the work the entire team at AWSOM has accomplished to reach preliminary accreditation status," Walton said in a press release at the time. "The School of Medicine will play a pivotal role in educating the next generation of physicians, equipping them to care for the whole person and making a lasting impact on health care in the Heartland and beyond."

Its inaugural class will have 48 students, with classes starting in 2025. The nonprofit school will waive tuition for its first five cohorts of students.

It aims to "enhance traditional medical education with the arts, humanities, and whole health principles," its website says. It shares the same campus as the Crystal Bridges museum.

Katie Warren and Tanza Loudenback contributed to an earlier version of this story.

• The $100 billion club got smaller after a tough three months on the markets.
• Michael Dell's net worth fell by $24.5 billion this year, while Jensen Huang is down $19.2 billion.
• While some of the superrich lost billions, Warren Buffett's net worth soared by $24.3 billion.

Nvidia's Jensen Huang and Michael Dell have fallen out of the exclusive $100 billion club after a terrible three months for the stock market.

At the start of the year, there were 16 centi-billionaires but there are now only 13, as a sharp sell-off in equities wiped billions from their fortunes in the worst quarter for the market since 2022.

The other casualty is Amancio Ortega, the founder of Zara owner Inditex.

President Donald Trump's aggressive tariff policies have led to a more volatile market and dampened investor confidence.

Jensen Huang

Once one of the biggest beneficiaries of the AI stock boom, Huang is down $19.2 billion this year as Nvidia shares have fallen 18% since January. His net worth now stands at $95.2 billion, per the Bloomberg Billionaires Index, putting him in 16th place.

A mix of AI market saturation fears, tighter regulations, and a disappointing IPO from AI cloud startup CoreWeave have weighed on investor sentiment, dragging Nvidia's market value down.

Huang remains richer than he was two years ago when his net worth was about $25 billion — although he's still well off his $130 billion peak from last November.

Michael Dell

Dell, the tech entrepreneur who has turned the company he founded, wasn't spared either.

The Bloomberg rich list shows he's lost a big slice of his fortune in the first quarter of this year with a $24.5 billion decline. He's just below $100 billion mark and in 14th place.

Despite reporting strong earnings in February, Dell Technologies' stock has lost almost 22% this year amid concern slower-than-expected AI infrastructure spending.

Amancio Ortega

The 89-year-old Spanish founder of Zara is down $2.5 billion following a slide in Inditex shares of about 7% this year.

That fall leaves him worth $98.8 billion and in 15th place on Bloomberg's list.

A mix of weaker consumer spending and unfavorable foreign exchange conditions has taken its toll on the fast-fashion empire.

Not quite so rich

Other members of the $100 billion club have taken heavy hits, with Elon Musk down $116 billion to $316 billion, Larry Ellison down $30.3 billion to $162 billion and Jeff Bezos down $27.1 billion to $212 billion.

The only centi-billionaires to grow their wealth were Warren Buffett and Bill Gates.

Buffett added $24.3 billion to his fortune this year following a surge in Berkshire Hathaway stock, putting him fifth on Bloomberg's list at $166 billion.

That's two spots and $5 billion ahead of his friend and Microsoft cofounder, whose net worth is $2 billion higher this year. The bulk of Gates' wealth comes from his cash holdings of $78 billion, with his Microsoft stake valued at $24.3 billion.

• Starting April 1, New Zealand is easing its golden visa rules to lure wealthy people to move there.
• Most visa inquiries so far have come from Americans, the New Zealand government told BI.
• Americans jarred by political tumult may be drawn to New Zealand's lifestyle, safety, and stability.

New Zealand's breathtaking landscapes and temperate climate lured 370,000 American visitors in 2024, according to government arrival data.

Other Americans may want to make more permanent trips.

About 40% of inquiries about New Zealand's "golden visa" program have come from the US, according to Benny Goodman, the investment general manager for New Zealand Trade and Enterprise, or NZTE.

Some Americans are exploring moves out of the country because of dissatisfaction with the political climate. Google searches for "moving to New Zealand" spiked around Election Day and Inauguration Day, as did related searches for "moving to Canada" and "how to move out of the US."

Starting April 1, it'll get a little easier for wealthy foreigners to pay for a pathway to New Zealand residency. The country is changing the requirements for its golden visa program, formally called the "active investor plus" visa.

The lightening of golden visa requirements comes as New Zealand is trying to boost an economy grappling with recession, its worst downturn since 1991 except for the pandemic.

The government is itching for high-net-worth immigrants, according to Dominic Jones, the managing director of Greener Pastures New Zealand, which helps people get residency through investment.

Jones said there are three main reasons wealthy Americans might be drawn to New Zealand: its laid-back lifestyle, its political stability, and its lack of crime.

"If you go back 10 or 20 years, the drivers around safety in particular may not have been that important, but now it's increasingly on people's minds," he said.

Americans are intrigued by the new visa options

The new golden visa requirements are as follows: Prospective residents can invest $5 million New Zealand dollars (or about $2.8 million) in "higher-risk" investments, like managed funds, and hold them for at least three years to receive permanent residency.

Investors can choose a second option and invest $10 million New Zealand dollars (or about $5.7 million) — with somewhat safer investing options, like bonds or a list of equities — and hold them for five years.

Previously, there were three, not two, different investment groups, more time required in the country to qualify for residency, and an English-speaking requirement that has been removed. The previous minimum investment was more expensive: $15 million New Zealand dollars.

Bloomberg reported in February that only 43 golden visa applicants from all countries were approved between 2022 and 2025, when the old rules were in place. They brought in a total of $545 million New Zealand dollars.

According to the New Zealand Herald, since the changes were announced in February, NZTE saw a 400% rise in visits to its visa web pages.

Since Greener Pastures' website launched in December, inquiries about relocating from America to New Zealand have tripled, beating out increases in interest from other countries, said Mischa Mannix-Opie, the director of client experience at Greener Pastures.

"Americans have been our key focus — that's been our priority," she told BI. "That's where we've seen the biggest lift which has been quite pleasing for us to see."

There are also less-expensive options to spend a few months in New Zealand, including a digital nomad visa that allows travelers to work from New Zealand for up to 92 days. If you qualify, it costs about $193.

Some Americans are already enjoying the New Zealand lifestyle.

Take Garvey Daniels, who moved his family from California to New Zealand in 2022, after falling in love with the scenery while living there in the '90s.

Daniels told BI in 2023 that he worries less about his kids' safety in New Zealand.

"My kids just get to go and have an education," he said. "They can walk to the dairy with their friends, and if they decide they want to go eat ice cream on the beach and they're not home right away, I don't go into a mad panic."

• In the 1980s, Cynthia Jones wanted to own a home, but her husband didn't. They later divorced.
• After the split, she spent $28,000 on her first home for herself and her young daughter to live in.
• Jones, now 68, has taught her daughter the value of investing in real estate as a single woman.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Cynthia Jones, a 64-year-old retired librarian in Toledo, Ohio, who purchased several homes without a cosigner or spouse. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.

When I was in my mid-20s, I discovered that my husband had no interest in becoming a homeowner. This, along with other factors, ultimately led to our divorce.

In 1982, as a single woman, I purchased my first property for my toddler and me. Since then, I've bought and sold four homes. Now, at 68, I live in my fifth — and final — home.

I love being a homeowner because whether I use my home equity to make improvements, invest in other ventures, or simply enjoy the stability of ownership, it's mine to do with as I please.

I've also passed this lesson on to my daughter, who happens to be single, too.

Before turning 30, my daughter also purchased her first property alone, without a spouse. Prior to that, she earned her graduate degree. Now, at 44, she's enjoying traveling and her career.

We're two women embracing single life, traveling, and making the most of our future.

I have always encouraged single women to build wealth through homeownership and real-estate investing. Owning property is one of the few investments that allows you to retain the asset while still making money. In contrast, with investments like stocks, you must sell to realize any profit.

Owning a home could also have developmental benefits. Some research has shown that children who live in a family-owned home may fare better in school, among other things. I have seen some of these benefits firsthand.

I didn't need a spouse to be a homeowner

Homeownership wasn't the sole reason my husband and I got a divorce, but it was, as I say, the straw that broke the camel's back.

In 1981, I was living in Toledo, Ohio, in a townhouse with two bedrooms and one bathroom that my ex-husband and I rented for around $500 a month.

At the time, I was considering setting up a private music studio to teach violin lessons from home, which required more space. The apartment was under about 1,000 square feet and felt cramped. Plus, when you share walls with neighbors, you hear them, and they hear you. There was also no laundry facility in the complex, so we had to go to a local laundromat.

With a young child and the possibility of expanding our family, I realized it was the right time to stop renting and start building equity in a place of our own.

While owning a home is a core value for me, my ex-husband never wanted the responsibility of homeownership. He believed it would be too costly. My counterpoint was that while there are expenses associated with owning a home, you can't build equity in an apartment, pay it off, or pass it down.

Buying my first home after the divorce was surprisingly easy. Fortunately, my former boss's wife, a real-estate agent, knew an elderly man who was looking to sell his condo. He offered seller financing, and the process went smoothly with no issues.

In 1982, I paid $28,000 for his two-bedroom, one-bathroom condo. The master bedroom and closet were spacious, and my daughter was thrilled to have her own room. I also enjoyed a nice balcony overlooking a pond, which was a peaceful place to relax.

We lived in the condo for eight years before selling it for around $35,000. Although it was just a starter home, I was thrilled to finally own something. And now, even after all these years, my daughter and I still talk about the memories we made there.

I taught my daughter the importance of homeownership

After my divorce, I remained single and returned to school to study fine arts and business. My focus was solely on my education and raising my daughter.

Over the years, I purchased four more homes, with each sale helping to finance the next. I bought my final home — a four-bedroom, two-bathroom house — for $187,000 in 2019. It's now valued at nearly $300,000, according to Realtor.com.

In the future, it will need a few repairs, so some of my equity will go toward that, and the rest will be saved, perhaps in a high-yield savings account for emergencies. That's the beauty of homeownership — while real estate goes through up-and-down periods, over time, you're generally building equity.

In 2013, my daughter purchased her own home in Toledo for $130,000 — a four-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bath house in the same neighborhood as mine. My 90-year-old mother and my nephew are currently leasing it. Last year, a house across the street from hers sold for $313,000, so I estimate her home is now valued at around $300,000.

My father passed last August, so we're transitioning my mother to my home, which has a first-floor bedroom and bathroom. Although my daughter's house has a chair lift, my mom is reaching a point where even that could become a challenge. It's safer for her to be here with us.

In this situation, owning a home is definitely a benefit compared to living in an apartment because we can adjust or renovate it to suit her needs. Some apartments have accessibility issues. While some complexes are required by law to make accommodations, this isn't always the case. Even if a landlord agrees, renters can be expected to pay for the upgrades.

My daughter plans to sell her house, and then we'll all be living together in my home. We are joining the ranks of others enjoying a multi-generational household.

Our neighborhood is fantastic. Everyone knows each other and looks out for one another. Plus, we're lucky to be right next to a park that offers plenty of nature. This will definitely be our forever home.

I want to encourage more single women to become homeowners

I've made many financial blunders in my life — but owning homes hasn't been one of them.

My only regret in my homeownership journey is that I sold my previous properties instead of keeping them as rentals. I'd be in an excellent financial position now and could have passed that portfolio on to my daughter.

It would have also helped with retirement. The rental income would have served as my primary source of retirement income, alongside other sources.

A friend of mine, who also bought her first home as a single mother, has paid it off and also owns a paid-off investment property. Now, in retirement, she's reaping the rewards of those smart investments.

Many years ago, I obtained my real-estate license, but due to various circumstances, I didn't pursue using it at the time.

As part of my "encore career" or second act, I plan to return to real estate — not just for income, but to educate women about the benefits of homeownership and investing in real property.

I've kept up with reading about the real-estate market, and I'm aware that single women are outpacing men in homeownership. I think it's because women like me are no longer waiting for marriage or a partner to invest in their own homes. I think, in many cases, they are thinking long-term about securing their retirement and building wealth.

More women understand the financial benefits of homeownership, and as I always say, you'll always need a place to live — so why not make it something you own?

Lee insists he's "famously" a very good Catholic. He's a moral person — his mother raised him right. And by his internal calculation, it's OK to shoplift from Whole Foods. Why? Because of Jeff Bezos.

From about 2020 to 2022, Lee, a 20-something communications professional living in the Washington, DC, area, engaged in what he describes as "grand theft auto-ing" from his local Whole Foods store. He would cheat the scale at the hot bar, pocket spices, or take home four lemons in the self-checkout aisle while only declaring two. Lee has never shoplifted from anywhere else — not Safeway, not a local store. He's largely stopped taking from Whole Foods because he moved to a different neighborhood that doesn't have one. However, he told me, there's one by his gym he'll pop into — and steal from — from time to time.

Lee has weighed the ethics of what he's doing. At one point, the guilt got to be so much that he confessed his misdeeds to his mother. Once he explained his reasoning — Amazon's market power, Bezos' wealth, what the billionaire has done at The Washington Post — she came around.

"If a billionaire can steal from me, I can scrape a little off the top, too," Lee says. Lee is a pseudonym — the same goes for all of the shoplifters and ethically (and legally) compromised individuals quoted in this story. Over the past several months, I've spoken with nearly a dozen of them — some I found through their confessions online; others reached out when they heard through social media I was working on this story.

Practically speaking, it's a good moment to be a billionaire in America — you've probably got more tax cuts on the way, and the president is nice to you as long as you're nice to him. Maybe your stocks are down, but you're still a billionaire, so it's fine. In terms of public perception, however, the superrich have seen better days. Americans are vandalizing Teslas to get back at Elon Musk. Mark Zuckerberg's "Zuckermoon" is over. As for Jeff Bezos, some people are stealing from him — or, rather, his companies — in an effort to exact revenge. Like Lee, they're enacting some moral payback, one fancy cheese from Whole Foods or fudged Amazon return at a time. They're sticking it to The Man, who in this case is one specific individual.

These subversive infractions directed at Bezos and his billionaire cohort may be rooted in legitimate gripes with the state of the world and its unfathomable wealth inequality. On the spectrum of crime severity, swiping $20 worth of goods from a multibillion-dollar corporation does not rank high. But the justifications people offer are just that — justifications. None of what they're doing is actually making the type of impact they might like to see, and they're conveniently ignoring Bezos' positive contributions, such as his philanthropy. And they could be causing unintended harm to the non-Bezoses of the world, as in, everyone else. Many retailers have put items behind glass cases to combat theft, which is a headache for everybody. Shoplifting can demoralize workers, and if enough people do it, it may lead companies to raise prices, or in the case of return fraud, mean businesses make sending unwanted items back a lot harder.

In the realm of retail theft, middle-class consumers and opportunist thieves are a growing group of culprits. It's difficult to tease out the exact size and scope of the cohort, given how incomplete retail-theft data can be. Amazon isn't exactly shouting its shrink numbers from the rooftops, and other companies have even admitted to mistakes in assessing the problem. But as one loss prevention professional put it to me last year, everyday, ordinary shoplifters are "like a giant organized mob, they just don't know each other."

Many of them abide by a certain code around who they take from, and the swath of small-time larcenists I've spoken to consistently say that anything Jeff Bezos-related falls into the "allowed" column. He's the second-richest man in the world, he's highly visible, and they don't love what they know about him personally. They feel like they're balancing the scales in stealing from one of his companies, undertaking some sort of Robin Hood-esque endeavor where they take from the rich to give to the poor, the comparatively poor being themselves.

Take Jesse, a 30-something tech worker who until recently would steal entire bags of groceries from Whole Foods with his roommates. A friend at Instacart tipped them off to the opportunity — with so many personal shoppers roaming around the aisles, workers weren't going to notice another person loading bags or whether they were paying for what was in them. Once, they got expensive steaks from the butcher and left without paying for them, later grilling them out on a friend's roof.

"I never felt bad for the corporation as a whole, because it was Amazon and, you know, it was Jeff Bezos," Jesse said. "He just profits so much taking advantage of the little people, so if we as little people can bite back a little bit, and that's me taking $100 maybe out of revenue for him, that's a little bit of a middle finger."

Separately, there's Carson, another Whole Foods bandit whose friends joke they're actually "liberating" items from the store, not stealing. As Carson, a 30-something who works in the nonprofit sector, told me for a story last year, he likes slipping salmon lox into his laptop sleeve and estimates he saves about $1,000 in groceries a year by shoplifting, largely from Whole Foods.

"It's easy to look at him like a Lex Luthor," Carson told me recently, referring to the Superman villain.

Carson isn't just extracting his purported payback through Whole Foods. He likes to throw big, complicated parties, so he'll buy $1,000 of decorations from Amazon, use them, and then return them.

"Who's actually hurt in this strange, dehumanized system?" he said.

Reporting for this story, I heard the same sentiment over and over from shoplifters and less-than-honest Amazon shoppers. One Whole Foods nabber, a 30-something tech worker, justified their penchant for lifting from the grocery store as a mix of ease, quality, and antipathy toward one of the richest people in the world. "My lack of remorse for any of this is — it's a big corporation. They have so much money, eggs are $10, screw them," they said.

One 50-something business owner explained how they would exploit a loophole in Amazon's return system to get what amounted to free money for runs to an Amazon Go store in their office building. When I asked whether they felt any sense of regret, the answer was succinct: "F— no. He's the most successful entrepreneur alive."

Jimmy, a 30-something government worker, told me he's "indifferent" toward Bezos, and he does feel somewhat bad about engaging in some light return fraud. One of his gaming controllers recently broke, so he bought a new one, stuck the old one in the box it came in, and sent it back undetected. Still, he's not losing sleep over it. "We know how much money that company makes. They're not going to be worried about that $70," he says. "I feel like the Batman of returns. I choose my targets."

The Bezos bashers' complaints ran the gamut: Whole Foods is a gentrifier; he's just too rich; shooting himself into space is gauche. Whatever anyone's precise justifications, there have been plenty of headlines and accusations that paint Bezos and his companies in an unflattering light. Amazon's e-commerce practices are bad for the environment. His businesses have been widely criticized for their approach to workers, including subjecting them to brutal work conditions and engaging in wage theft. His recent political turn and push to exert more influence over The Washington Post, which he owns, has turned many people off and reportedly lost the paper thousands of subscribers.

To be sure, Bezos has also given people plenty to be happy about. It's super convenient to have stuff delivered to your door at the drop of a hat. Whole Foods is, for the most part, a lovely shopping experience. But in an era where billionaires are viewed as the bad guys, and there's growing anger about extreme wealth inequality, it can be easy for people to overlook any upsides. There are a handful of guys in popular culture who epitomize the enormous gap between haves and have-nots. Bezos is one of them.

It is fair to wonder, though, if stealing from Whole Foods or returning a dress you wore to a wedding is the best way to get back at Bezos. It's a bit of a stretch to think the answer to that one is yes.

I reached out to Garret Merriam, an associate philosophy professor at California State University, Sacramento, who studies ethics, to get his read. He told me there are likely three broad categories of thinking going on here. There are those who don't really consider what they're doing to be stealing — they're oblivious to it. Like taking a pen from the breakroom at work, they figure it's baked in when they grab a snack as they browse the Whole Foods aisles. There are people who recognize it's cheating, but they don't think it's wrong, given Bezos' wealth and his business practices. In a context where Amazon has paid millions of dollars to settle wage theft lawsuits, they figure lying about a lost package is a small way to try to even things out. And then there are those who feel a sense of political desperation — they're powerless in the face of massive political and economic forces, and this is an outlet for some sort of action, even if futile. "The target is misapplied, but the anger is, I would say, understandable," he said.

People have a tendency to try to neutralize potentially unsavory behavior by coming up with ways to justify their actions, Emmeline Taylor, a professor of criminology at City St. George's, University of London, said. In this case, they tell themselves things like, "Bezos is bad, Amazon won't even notice, this seems like a victimless crime," to make themselves feel better and like they're in the right. "They've sort of rehearsed this in their head so many times or even said it out loud, they start to believe it themselves," she said. "That's what allows them these sorts of moral gymnastics."

While people may see their actions as a way to get back at Bezos, the sheer size of the modern corporation creates a level of removal that makes it easy to sit back and think, "Who cares if someone pulls one over on them?" After all, it feels like they're pulling one over on us all the time.

"When we take from a store or a workplace, it gets a little bit easier to distance yourself," Terrence Shulman, the founder of the Shulman Center for Compulsive Theft, Spending, and Hoarding, said.

Beyond the fact that theft and fraud are, you know, against the law, anti-Amazon avengers may not recognize the collateral damage they could be inadvertently causing. If you steal from Whole Foods, Bezos won't know, but the store manager who's fired over it will. (I did survey some Whole Foods workers about this, and several of them confirmed that (a) they see a lot of middle-class and even seemingly wealthy shoplifters, and (b) they may be a little bothered by some of it but are not in a tizzy.) Before you lie to Amazon that your package never arrived or return the wrong item, you might want to check who the actual seller is.

John Roman, the CEO of BattlBox, which sells outdoor gear and equipment, would rather just sell everything from his own website, but they've got to be on Amazon and other e-commerce platforms just because of the reach. He's currently dealing with a return fraud situation — someone bought a new spotlight from him, said they didn't like it, and shipped an older model back. BattlBox didn't even realize what had happened until they sent the returned item to another customer who flagged it. Roman has filed an appeal with Amazon, but there's "no telling" whether the company will side with him.

He doesn't really blame people for doing this. By making returns so easy and taking "the customer is right" philosophy to the extreme, Amazon has fostered this behavior. "I don't think the average consumer even understands that it's not Amazon selling the product," he said, pointing to the fact that Amazon regularly introduces an Amazon Basic version of a best-selling item — which then gets prominent website placement near or above the original — in order to get in on the action. Roman even understands the get-back-at-Bezos stuff, given how the ultrawealthy are viewed.

"I'm not saying I agree with it, but I fully understand the people that view that they're giving it to The Man, but the reality is that you are actually hurting small businesses," he said.

Ironically, shoplifting at other retailers has been a plus for Amazon's business — people frustrated that everything is locked up at CVS and Target just go to Amazon's website instead. It's not clear how big of a problem shrink is for Whole Foods and Amazon since the company doesn't break it out in their financials. When Amazon CEO Andy Jassy was asked about return fraud in a CNBC interview last year, he sort of shrugged it off, saying at the company's scale, "You get a bit of everything."

"It matters to them, but does it matter enough to put the time and effort into trying to stop that? I would say probably not," Arun Sundaram, an analyst at CFRA Research, said. He joked that given how profitable some other arms of Amazon's business arms are, if it wanted to give free food to customers for a month, it probably could.

Amazon declined to comment for this story. Jeff Bezos did not respond to a request for comment.

I'm not trying to say that the logic among Amazon and Whole Foods thieves is, "I woke up in the morning mad at Jeff Bezos because killed The Washington Post's Kamala Harris endorsement, so now I'm going to steal overpriced salami from Whole Foods." Attitudes are generally more removed and hazy. They view snacking while shopping (without paying for said snack) as a victimless crime, with the only potential victim being Bezos, even if that's a stretch.

"I don't know who I'm hurting," Lee said.

In the current economy, it's hard not to feel like you're being taken advantage of at every turn. Everything's getting more expensive, but corporate profits are still going up. Companies are constantly cutting costs, whether that means laying off workers or making it impossible to talk to a customer service representative on the phone. People feel like they have to be on guard against business trickery and slights. If you've shrugged and said, "That's how they get you," enough times, you start to think about how you'll get them. People feel like big business has broken the social contract, so they can break it back.

If people want to hurt Amazon with their pocketbooks, the best thing they can probably do is just not shop there. But that would require effort, planning, and forgoing the luxuries of on-demand shopping, which many people don't seem so willing to do.

"That would be a moral response," said Stuart Green, a Rutgers law professor who focuses on the moral theory underlying laws. "I don't think you can steal things that you like and then say you're doing it because you don't like the company."

At least it's better than setting Teslas on fire.

Emily Stewart is a senior correspondent at Business Insider, writing about business and the economy.

• Berkshire Hathaway stock has jumped 16% this year while the S&P 500 has dropped 2%.
• Investors are flocking to Warren Buffett's company because of its huge cash reserves and reputation.
• Buffett is known for capitalizing on market chaos and has assuaged succession concerns.

Warren Buffett is off to a roaring start to 2025 with shares of his Berkshire Hathaway conglomerate up 16%, trouncing the benchmark S&P 500's 2% decline.

The stock surge has boosted Buffett's net worth by an unmatched $23 billion, vaulting him past Bill Gates into sixth place on the Bloomberg Billionaires Index, with a $165 billion fortune.

The 94-year-old business icon and his company are riding high as investors seek shelter from roiling markets, trusting the legendary bargain hunter to pounce if asset prices crash and the economy tanks.

They're also cheering a rebound at Geico, which is owned by Berkshire, and banking on Buffett's planned successor to deliver when the time comes.

Port in a storm

"Berkshire is a stable, solid ship in a sea of uncertainty right now," Paul Lountzis, the president and founder of Lountzis Asset Management, told Business Insider.

The longtime Berkshire shareholder pointed to the company's "rock of Gibraltar" balance sheet, which boasted more than $320 billion in cash, Treasurys, and other liquid assets at the end of December, and stocks worth more than $270 billion.

During his 60 years in charge, Buffett has transformed Berkshire from a failing textile mill into a $1 trillion juggernaut. He's acquired scores of businesses across myriad industries, including See's Candies, Precision Castparts, and the BNSF Railway, and built multibillion-dollar stakes in blue-chip stocks such as Apple, Coca-Cola, and American Express.

Berkshire stock has soared in value by more than 5,500,000% during Buffett's tenure, crushing the S&P's roughly 39,000% gain over the same period. The stock has compounded at about 20% a year for six decades — almost twice as fast as the benchmark.

The billionaire philanthropist is also known for prudently managing Berkshire, prizing long-term success over short-term gains.

"In an uncertain world, investors place a higher value on the certainty that Berkshire offers," Darren Pollock, a portfolio manager at Cheviot Value Management and another longtime shareholder, told BI. "Consistency and reliability often get a bid when froth exits financial markets."

Cathy Seifert, a senior vice president at CFRA Research and a longtime Berkshire analyst, said there's been a "flight to quality amid an upswing in market and geopolitical volatility," and investors see Buffett's sprawling empire as a safe haven.

Profiting from chaos

Buffett is a value investor who specializes in spotting and scooping up stocks and businesses at a discount. The best time to do that is when prices tumble and the pool of buyers dries up.

"Warren Buffett has often demonstrated he is at his best with capital allocation with more challenging conditions," Macrae Sykes, a portfolio manager at Gabelli Funds, told BI. He's "shown a unique ability to see through the noise and find value."

For example, the legendary investor struck lucrative deals with Goldman Sachs, General Electric, Mars, Dow Chemical, and Swiss Re during the financial crisis.

He deployed more than $21 billion across those five transactions between 2008 and 2009, securing positions worth a combined $26 billion — and yielding $2.1 billion in yearly interest and dividends — by the end of 2009.

Fast-forward to today, and Berkshire's huge "cash cushion" gives it "tremendous firepower for bargain hunting should opportunities arise," Pollock said.

Buffett's patience, discipline, and refusal to buy into bubbles and trendy stocks have paid off in the past. When the dot-com bubble burst and the S&P fell by an average of 14% a year between 2000 and 2002, Berkshire shares rose by 10% on average during those three years as investors dumped expensive tech stocks and returned to tried-and-true names.

Under Buffett's leadership, Berkshire stock "substantially outperformed" the market in 10 of the 12 years the S&P declined, David Kass, a finance professor at the University of Maryland who's followed Buffett for four decades, told BI.

Lifting the hood

Berkshire's business performance has also made it a draw for investors. The company has some "fundamental momentum," Sykes said, noting it generated about $30 billion in operating cash flow last year, or about $600 million a week.

Geico's profits soared last year as Todd Combs, the car insurer's CEO and one of Buffett's two investment managers, boosted efficiency and updated its underwriting practices.

Buffett described Geico as a "long-held gem that needed major repolishing" in his latest annual letter and hailed its recent performance as "spectacular."

The recovery helped lift Berkshire's operating earnings by 71% year-over-year last quarter. Kass said that was a key reason its shares have outpaced Magnificent Seven stocks such as Microsoft and Alphabet this year.

Seifert said the Geico turnaround should "significantly aid" Berkshire's profit growth given it's one of the company's most important business units. She also noted the Federal Reserve's hikes to interest rates since 2022 have made Berkshire's mountain of bonds more lucrative.

Buffett's company raked in nearly $22 billion in interest, dividend, and investment income last year, up from less than $16 billion in 2023 and about $10 billion in 2022.

Berkshire after Buffett

Buffett and Berkshire have become virtually synonymous, making it hard to imagine another CEO filling his shoes. Yet the demise of his longtime business partner, Charlie Munger, a few weeks shy of his 100th birthday in late 2023, underscored the Buffett era is nearing an end.

Buffett has carefully planned for his departure and worked to build shareholders' comfort with Greg Abel, the head of Berkshire's non-insurance businesses and his chosen successor.

A final reason for Berkshire's stock gains this year is "growing confidence" in Abel's ability to make Berkshire's subsidiaries sing and shrewdly allocate the company's capital, Sykes said.

Buffett has "done a great job preparing the firm for a future without him," Lountzis said. "There is not much more he could do — though I do wish he could clone himself and Charlie to keep running it for another 60 years."

On a sunny Wednesday afternoon in late February, Ernesto Tey walked from a meeting on the west side of Manhattan to the heliport at 30th Street on the Hudson River. He was early for his 3 p.m. Blade helicopter flight to Kennedy International Airport, so he ordered a drink at the lounge bar.

A self-described "plane geek" who works for a software company and flies single-engine aircraft in his spare time, the Californian says he's taken about 30 Blades to and from Manhattan over the last few years. The nine-minute ride starts at $95 for those with a pass, and when an Uber in rush-hour traffic can take more than an hour and set you back more than $100, it doesn't sound so unreasonable.

Plus, it's fun and the views are wild. "Where else can you fly in a helicopter for between $100 and $200?" he told me.

A few minutes later, Tey and I and two other passengers climbed aboard a six-seat helicopter — just feet from Hudson River Park's busy waterfront walking and bike path — and soared 1,400 feet above the Hudson, around the southern tip of Manhattan, and across Brooklyn.

Helicopter commuter and private charter services are steadily transforming the whirlybird from a plaything of the ultrawealthy to an on-demand rideshare for anyone with access to a company card or willing to blow a few hundred dollars on an Instagrammable experience. "Blading" has become a verb for the Hamptons set, as the industry has expanded its footprint in recent years, particularly in the New York City area.

Less pleased with the rise of whirlybirds are those literally below them.

Over the past few years, New Yorkers have taken to the city's nonemergency 311 complaint line to register their displeasure like never before. Helicopter noise complaints exploded by 678% in two years, from 3,332 in 2019 to 25,916 in 2021, based on 311 data compiled by Business Insider. Complaints more than doubled to 59,127 in 2023. Last year, they dropped to 28,686 — still far above the pre-COVID normal.

The surge in complaints aligns with the rise of private charter and commuter services, on top of a loosely regulated sightseeing helicopter industry and a spike in law enforcement chopper flights. An analysis by the New York City Council of flights and complaints in May 2023 found that trips like the one I took from Manhattan to the airport and tour choppers from New Jersey generated the most complaints. But local, state, and federal leaders have done little to stop the chop in recent years.

For all the hubbub about helicopters, they're only the harbinger of a future of much more crowded skies. The industry is on the verge of transformation by long-awaited electric choppers that the federal government, local policymakers, and helicopter services are already embracing as a way to vastly expand the air-taxi industry and make vertical urban travel mainstream.

Helicopter commuting is nothing new in the Big Apple. Modern helicopters were invented at the start of World War II. In the 1950s, the aviation company New York Airways began offering relatively cheap chopper rides from the roof of a midtown Manhattan skyscraper to the city's airports. A deadly crash in 1977 tarnished the industry's glamorous image, but in the decades since, the city's skies have filled back up with choppers, including so-called "nonessential" charter flights and sightseeing services, as well as "essential" law enforcement, media, and medical flights.

Blade is on a mission to vastly expand rideshare in the skies. Its CEO, Rob Wiesenthal, told me the company's passenger business has grown from about $2 million in revenue in 2014 to more than $100 million last year. Earlier this year, it opened up its $95 airport shuttle service for Long Island and New Jersey commuters — marketing it as a way to skip New York City's new $9 congestion pricing toll on drivers below 60th Street. "If you think about $75 for parking and $9 for congestion pricing and $13 to $26 for whichever tunnel or bridge you take, you actually save money with the pass," Wiesenthal said. (He doesn't mention New York City's vast network of commuter trains. The A train from the airport will set you back a grand total of $2.90).

What struck me about my fellow Blade passengers was how casually they treated the experience. Stephanie Fuhrman, who works for a software company based out of Utah, was in New York for business and opted for a Blade to save time getting back to JFK. "It's like a bus to me," she said. "It's just transportation." Plus, her Uber from the airport to Manhattan in morning traffic had taken about an hour and a half and cost her nearly $200, she said. "I couldn't take the risk going to the airport."

The fourth passenger on our flight, Donal Collins, falls into the other category of Blade customer: leisure travelers seeking a joyride. The 27-year-old, who works at a Brooklyn-based AI startup, loves to fly, but this was his first whirlybird ride. On his way from New York to California, he decided to use the Blade gift card his brother had given him for Christmas. Blade's clientele ranges from C-suite executives to executive assistants. They're Hamptons-goers, commuters, and thrill seekers — and they've gotten younger over the years as prices have come down. Blade's busiest days are Thursdays, Fridays, and Mondays when long-weekend travelers mix with the business crowd.

While the cost of a chopper ride might be low for a well-compensated white-collar worker, the quality-of-life negatives for those they fly over are remarkably high.

Looking down at the tiny skyscrapers from my seat next to the pilot, I was reminded of the similarly beautiful day in late September I'd spent picnicking on Governors Island off Lower Manhattan. What struck me then — and helped inspire my obsession with the helicopter industry — was how difficult it was to enjoy the idyllic car-free oasis with the near-constant chop-chop of helicopters overhead. Like many of the city's waterfront parks, the island has become what one anti-helicopter advocate told me is "ground zero" for chopper traffic.

Critics of the helicopter industry point to the safety hazards of congested skies and the environmental impact of the fuel-spewing machines. But the window-rattling racket they make tops the list of concerns. Loud, disruptive noise can have a range of physical and mental effects "from raising the biomarkers for stress to changing how people's hearts and metabolisms work, and reducing people's lifespan," Nick Shapiro, a professor of biology and society at UCLA who studies the health impacts of helicopter policing, told me. One 2017 study linked aviation noise to disrupted sleep, an increased risk of cardiovascular disease, and lower academic performance among kids. Aircraft noise is especially annoying because it's both loud and intermittent, Shapiro told me. Helicopters fly lower than planes and have the least regulated traffic patterns.

Chopper noise doesn't affect everyone the same way. People who've lived in war-torn or hyper-policed areas might have a more acute mental or physical reaction. "Different populations might feel stalked or harassed by that noise in a way that is culturally and historically informed," Shapiro said.

In the case of policing, the noise is often the point. Beginning during the 1965 Watts riots, the Los Angeles Police Department pioneered the use of helicopters to patrol neighborhoods. Flying low, sometimes using spotlights, most of the flights were used to deter crime rather than respond to emergencies. "The sonic impacts are intended and part of its hypothesized efficacy," Shapiro said. "It's about seeing the helicopter, rather than the helicopter seeing what's happening on the ground." A 2023 audit found the LAPD's helicopter program costs about $47 million a year — more than the budgets of 14 city agencies — and found "little evidence" that it reduced crime.

New Yorkers have long made a stink about helicopters over their streets. Mayor Rudy Giuliani closed one of the city's heliports in 1997 under pressure from incensed residents. In 2016, the New York City Council came close to shutting down two of the city's heliports, but Mayor Bill de Blasio settled on a compromise that halved the number of tourist flights that originate in the city — from 60,000 flights a year to 30,000. Since then, New Jersey has seen a surge in helicopter tour operators, which fly an unknown number of choppers over the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, and everywhere in between, unrestricted by the city's regulations. The New York City Council analysis of 2023 helicopter traffic found that the number of tourist choppers in city airspace that originated in New Jersey and Westchester County was about the same as the number launching from the city.

Melissa Elstein began noticing an uptick in helicopters flying over her Upper West Side apartment and over Central Park in summer 2019. When she found out many were doors-off, shoe-selfie tourist choppers, she was incensed. "It's really insane that this is even allowed, especially given that we're also the most densely populated city and with some of the busiest skies," she told me. So Elstein decided to help revive Stop the Chop NY/NJ, a group pushing for much stricter regulation of nonessential choppers. The group has some high-profile supporters, including members of Congress and local elected officials.

While the city controls what happens at its heliports, only the federal government, specifically the Federal Aviation Administration, controls New York City's airspace. New York Reps. Jerry Nadler, Carolyn Maloney, and Nydia Velázquez have introduced federal legislation to ban nonessential choppers over the city. Some local lawmakers support the federal ban and want to see the city government end tourist and commuter flights from city-owned and operated heliports.

"There's just no reason that we should have city-owned helipads to fly the Uber elite out to JFK or the Hamptons at the expense of the quality of life and well-being of our communities," Lincoln Restler, a Brooklyn City council member, told me.

There's precedent for regulating or banning helicopter traffic. There are no-fly zones above some of the country's most prized monuments — the White House and the US Capitol and, naturally, Disney World and Disney Land. Some major cities around the world, including Paris, have also basically banned nonessential chopper flights. And several European countries have ended short-haul plane flights to help curb carbon emissions.

New York City's Economic Development Corporation, which runs two of the three public heliports, has resisted efforts to further crack down on tourist flights in the city, citing the tourism dollars it brings in. Restler told me he doubts EDC's defense of helicopter tourism, calling it "kind of farcical" and instead motivated by a desire to keep the wealthiest New Yorkers happy. For all the headache, the city-owned heliports only bring in about $3 million a year in revenue, Anton Fredriksson, EDC's director of aviation, told me.

"Essential flights" are also a growing part of the noise problem. Under Mayor Eric Adams, the New York police department's use of law enforcement choppers has risen dramatically. A 2024 Bloomberg investigation found that the force's helicopters spent 60% more time in the air in 2023 than in the previous four years. The NYPD's spending on the helicopter program more than doubled between fiscal year 2021 and 2023 to $12.3 million.

The helicopter industry is on the verge of a major transformation. In 2023, the FAA published a report outlining its path to approving the first so-called electric vertical takeoff and landing, or eVTOL, aircraft for commercial flight by 2025 — and widespread use by 2028. These machines are basically electric versions of helicopters — and have been hyped by the Silicon Valley set for years. Some chopper services, including Blade, want them to replace their use of combustion-engine helicopters.

"This is the first phase of a really exciting new age where instead of moving around on the ground, we're able to move around in the air," Eric Allison, the chief product officer of one California-based eVTOL company, Joby Aviation, told me. Joby has partnered with Uber, Delta, Toyota, and the US government, and aims to launch its air taxi services at Uber Black prices and eventually hopes to bring them closer to UberX prices. It's not clear when they'll get final certification from the FAA to start ferrying people around the US, but they're undergoing approval in Dubai.

After resisting the regulation of traditional helicopters for decades, New York leaders are embracing the electric rotor industry with open arms as the solution to noise and air pollution. Some support lifting caps on flights if they're electric. The mayor and EDC invited Joby and a German company to show off their machines in a test flight in downtown Manhattan in late 2023. Adams predicted at the event that "within our lifetime, many of you are going to own your own personal electric helicopter." There are some clear upsides to the technology — eVTOLs are much quieter than combustion-engine helicopters, and they don't spew jet fuel.

Even some city lawmakers who've led the charge against the helicopter industry are welcoming their electric counterparts. "The future of electric air taxi travel represents innovation, sustainability, and expanded transportation options for our city," Amanda Farías, the New York City Council majority leader, said in a statement.

Restler is more cautious. "Until we actually experience how they work in practice and what impacts they have, we don't know kind of what regulatory structure we need to protect the health, well-being, and safety of our communities," he said.

Earlier this month, Blade announced it's expanding its JFK flight offerings to the downtown Manhattan heliport in an effort to help the heliport's new operator "gather data on consumer demand, flier experience, and logistics" and transition to eVTOLs.

It's clear we're hurtling toward a future of highways in the sky — and we're already there in NYC. But it's not clear it's one that appeals to the average city dweller. It might warrant asking the question: Do we want the 1% taking over the skies?

Eliza Relman is a policy correspondent focused on housing, transportation, and infrastructure on Insider's economy team.

• Technologist Lane Bess reflects on his two Blue Origin space trips.
• Bess said each trip renewed his sense of what matters in life.
• He called for more visionary investments in space technology and exploration.

This is an as-told-to conversation with tech industry veteran Lane Bess. He founded Bess Ventures and is CEO of Deep Instinct, a deep learning-powered cybersecurity company. He is also the chairman of Blaize AI, the former CEO of Palo Alto Networks, and the former COO of Zscaler. He does not have financial ties to Blue Origin.

I've been to space twice in about three years. Each time, I've returned with a renewed sense of what matters in life.

I took my first trip in December 2021 and my second this past February. Each flight was just 10 minutes long, but Earth looks completely different when you take off and when you land.

I came back this time with several questions about the state of our world. Since my first trip, war has escalated. I thought this then — and still do now — the only limitation to what humanity can achieve is our ability to get along with one another.

What I see instead is a thirst for power, a change in how people see politics, and people compromising the founding ideas of our constitutional forefathers for things that just advantage one country over another.

US President Donald Trump, Russian President Vladimir Putin, and Chinese leader Xi Jinping shouldn't be the only three people on Earth who have a say in how the rest of humanity lives their lives.

All of this might make you think we should find another place to go because we're going to mess this up. We won't colonize Mars anytime soon, but maybe it has to start now.

A lifetime curiosity

I've been fascinated by rockets since I was a child. Even before I was a teenager, I remember going to the local hobby store — where I'd have to lie about my age — to buy these model rocket engines (which were obviously flammable). It's a passion I grew to share with my son, Cameron, who also accompanied me on my first space trip.

Years later, it became possible for civilians to go to space. Fortunately, by then, I had made great exits from my previous cybersecurity companies, Palo Alto Networks and Zscaler, so I could afford to bid on a Blue Origin seat in an auction. I had also been looking into investing in space technology through my family office, Bess Ventures.

In 2021, right before Thanksgiving, Blue Origin's operations and civilian sales director contacted me about joining its third flight. I was contacted again in January of this year when a seat opened on the 10th flight.

I can't disclose exactly how much my latest trip cost, but it was in the millions. It's clear my five fellow passengers also had good financial outcomes in life. Richard Scott is a reproductive endocrinologist who sold his reproductive medicine group, IVIRMA, to private equity firm KKR. Elaine Chia Hyde, a physicist, pilot, and founder of the media company Chicago Star and the only woman on the trip, had been saving for years to do something like this.

We spent about two and a half days in classroom training before takeoff. Unlike astronauts who prepare for longer orbital trips, we spent no time training in a centrifuge or swimming in a tank to understand weightlessness. This was more about learning the engineering behind the rocket so you know how safe it is. Up until two and a half minutes before they pull the gangplank, though, you can bail out.

Before takeoff we get into the designated crew capsule of the rocket. For the first five to seven seconds, you don't feel much movement because the engine is igniting. You have earpieces to soften the sound of the engine, but you still hear a lot of banging. Then, the capsule is ejected into the air.

In two and a half minutes, you're crossing the Kármán line, and you start to realize how thin and fragile the Earth's atmosphere is. By then, you're also weightless. I used my GoPro to get a shot of the view.

The ascent is smooth, but the descent can get bumpy. You're pulled into your seat with such a high gravitational acceleration that you can't physically move — let alone take a deep breath.

Once we landed, our families were there to welcome us. We had a Champagne toast and took in the fact that we were one of a few hundred civilians that had ventured into space.

Billionaires for space travel

I first interacted with Jeff Bezos' company Amazon back in the nineties when I was a product manager launching AT&T's internet business and Amazon was launching book sales online.

 I wouldn't say we're close friends, but I know him well enough to say he's sincere in his commitment to space and science. At his ranch, he once told me he feels blessed that his businesses have generated enough wealth that he can really think about things that most people just won't think about.

There are thousands of billionaires in the world, but only a dozen or so who put their money into really forward looking things. I guess every generation needs a few of those.