The question of why vast public funds are used to finance the extravagant events of the wealthy, such as banquets at royal palaces, is a central paradox of modern society. At first glance, it appears to be a simple matter of fairness: if an individual or institution possesses immense wealth, why should the general populace, through their taxes, be burdened with the cost of their gatherings? The answer, however, lies in a web of historical tradition, systemic economic structures, and ingrained social perceptions that extend far beyond a single event's price tag.
Historically, royal and state-funded events have been framed as a form of national investment. These opulent ceremonies, from state dinners to jubilee celebrations, are intended to project national prestige, attract tourism, and serve as a tool of diplomacy. In this view, the "million dollar banquet" is not merely a meal for the elite; it is a meticulously staged theatrical performance designed to generate a return in the form of international goodwill, trade opportunities, and a sense of national identity. While this justification can be debated, it forms the foundation for why such public spending is often accepted and even expected as a necessary cost of maintaining a royal or ceremonial institution.
Beyond tradition, the issue is deeply tied to the economic and political systems that govern our societies. The wealth of the most affluent is often protected by complex tax laws and policies that minimize their financial contributions to the public coffers. For example, tax codes may favor capital gains over income, or allow for legal loopholes that the average person cannot access. While the wealthy may pay some taxes, the proportion of their income or assets that contributes to public services is often significantly lower than that of the middle and lower classes. As such, the public funding of a royal event can be seen as a symptom of a larger system where the financial burden of a nation's infrastructure, security, and even its diplomatic displays is disproportionately shifted onto the taxpayer. The wealthy, in this context, are not so much scrounging as they are benefiting from a system that is designed, in part, to protect and grow their fortunes at public expense.
Finally, a psychological and social dimension contributes to this dynamic. For those born into privilege, the use of public resources is not necessarily viewed as an act of taking, but rather as an entitlement that comes with their status. The infrastructure, security, and public platforms provided by the state are simply considered part of the perquisites of being a figure of power or influence. The public, in turn, is often conditioned to accept this arrangement, seeing it as part of the natural order or a necessary cost of a stable society. The very scale of these events—so far removed from the daily lives of most people—makes it difficult for many to fully comprehend the financial implications, allowing the practice to continue largely unchallenged by a lack of public outrage. Therefore, the issue of public funding for these events is not merely a question of individual generosity, but a fundamental reflection of a nation's economic structure and its social contract.
Ultimately, the issue of taxpayer funding for wealthy gatherings is a layered one, combining historical precedent, systemic economic imbalances, and deeply ingrained social norms. It highlights a critical tension between the public interest and private affluence, and the complex ways in which national identity and economic policy can become intertwined to the benefit of the few.