September 23, 2026

NO HEAVY LIFTING REQUIRED:

Getting Rich Slowly: So you want to be a millionaire? Take your time—and don’t forget to compound. (David R. Henderson, 9/17/26, defining ideas)


My former co-blogger Bryan Caplan recently posted an interesting table showing the net worths of households at each age range. Not surprisingly, the older you get, up to age 74, the higher your net worth. What would surprise many people who hear how strapped families are for funds is that 25 percent of the households whose head was between age 55 and 74 had net worths (in 2022 dollars) of over $1 million. How did they do it? Did they have high-paying jobs? Although Bryan doesn’t present data on incomes, the answer is that a high income is neither necessary nor sufficient for becoming rich.
In 1999, economists Dwight R. Lee and Richard B. McKenzie wrote a book showing how following seven simple rules, starting early in life, could get you to $1 million or more late in life. When I talk to people who are dispirited about their financial prospects, I try to buck them up by telling them these rules and, occasionally, buying them a used copy of the Lee/McKenzie book titled Getting Rich in America: Eight Simple Rules for Building a Fortune and a Satisfying Life. (Why eight rather than the earlier mentioned seven? I’ll explain later.) In my Wall Street Journal review of the book, I stated that their book is “is the how-to handbook for becoming the millionaire next door.”

Becoming a millionaire in Zimbabwe is hard. Becoming a millionaire in the United States is relatively easy, as I’ll show.

PERSONAL JESUS:

The Nature of Kendrick Lamar’s “Suffering Servant” (Garrett Fish, 7/08/26, Christ & Pop Culture)

From a theological perspective, Lamar’s approach is compelling but deeply unsettling. He affirms biblical themes of sin and divine justice paired with moral responsibility, concepts that clearly align with traditional Christian doctrine. Yet he simultaneously embraces aspects of liberation theology, condemning systemic injustice and calling for accountability from both religious and political leaders. He is, in a sense, both the prophet and the skeptic, the confessor and the judge.

Perhaps the most significant theological tension in Lamar’s work lies not in his invocation of suffering, but in the nature of that suffering. The biblical category of the “suffering servant,” most explicitly articulated in Isaiah 52–53, is profoundly substitutionary. The servant suffers for others, bearing their iniquities and accomplishing their reconciliation with God. “He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” (Isaiah 53:5). This distinction is the theological axis upon which Christianity turns.

The central question remains: Does Lamar’s vision of justice and mercy align with a biblical perspective, particularly from an Old Testament standpoint? The Hebrew Scriptures depict justice (mishpat) as more than a reaction to wrongdoing. It is, fundamentally, the establishment of righteousness in society (Isaiah 1:17, Micah 6:8). Mercy (hesed), often paired with justice, is an active covenantal love that calls for repentance and restoration within a community (Exodus 34:6-7). The Old Testament refuses to separate justice from divine holiness; rather, it demands that righteousness be upheld while mercy is extended within the bounds of God’s covenant.

Lamar echoes the prophetic tradition in calling for justice but often lacks the full biblical view of divine holiness that frames it. The prophets condemned oppression (Amos 5:24) but always tied justice to a return to God’s law and not systemic reform. His vision, while powerful, sometimes veers toward a justice divorced from divine standards, making it susceptible to cultural reinterpretation. Likewise, his pleas for mercy often emphasize human struggle over divine grace, missing the foundational biblical truth that true mercy flows from God’s character rather than human effort (Psalm 103:8-12). While he critiques corruption and personal sin, his solutions lean toward self-actualization and personal throes rather than the transformative work of Christ.

By collapsing the distance between personal suffering and salvific suffering, Lamar’s vision risks conflating empathy with atonement. The result is a theology in which awareness substitutes for redemption, and articulation becomes a stand-in for transformation. The cross, in this framework, becomes more of a symbol of shared human pain.

A PEOPLE WHO THINK THEMSELF A NATION ARE ONE:

Time to recognize the Houthis as Yemen’s real government: UN General Assembly should seek a diplomatic solution in Yemen that recognizes Ansar Allah as the nation’s legitimate ruler (Medea Benjamin and Nicolas J S Davies, September 23, 2026, Asia Times)

Since 2015, international recognition of Saudi-backed governments-in-exile has served to justify a decade of war and economic strangulation against 80% of Yemenis who live in the area governed by Ansar Allah, including Sana’a, the capital.

Between 2015 and 2022, with full US support, Saudi Arabia and its allies dropped over 69,000 bombs and missiles on Yemen, including thousands on civilian targets, killing at least 8,983 civilians, according to Iona Craig’s Yemen Data Project. By the end of 2021, the UN estimated that the war, blockade, and resulting humanitarian crisis had caused 377,000 deaths.

So how did Yemen end up in such a frightful predicament? How can the United States, other countries, and even the UN continue to recognize exile governments that have supported bombarding and starving their own people for over a decade?

The roots lie in Yemen’s failed political transition after the Arab Spring. In 2011, a mostly peaceful uprising brought down Yemen’s corrupt, repressive, US-backed president, Ali Abdullah Saleh.


His vice president, Hadi, was appointed to a two-year term as interim president in 2012. Ansar Allah, based in Saada in north Yemen, played a leading role in the uprising against Saleh and participated in the National Dialogue that was supposed to guide the transition.

But Hadi failed to organize the planned election by February 2014. His term was extended for another year, but the transition again stalled. That’s when Ansar Allah moved south from its base in Saada, combining popular protests over fuel prices and the stalled political transition with an armed advance toward Sana’a.

Its fighters entered the capital in September 2014, defeating government forces. Ansar Allah was subsequently granted seats in a UN-approved interim government under President Hadi.

But the power-sharing arrangement quickly broke down. Tensions between Ansar Allah and Hadi’s government escalated over the drafting of a new constitution and the division of political power. In January 2015, Ansar Allah seized the presidential palace, and Hadi resigned and retired to his home in Aden. Ansar Allah formed a ruling council to fill the vacuum.

However, a month later, with support from Saudi Arabia, Hadi rescinded his resignation and tried to reclaim the presidency. A few days later, he fled from Aden to Riyadh, the capital of Saudi Arabia, and, in March, 2015, the Saudis attacked Yemen, with US support.