If we all left your world
So, when you back policies and politicians whose entire platform is making life unlivable for people like me, understand what you are really asking for. You are not asking us to respect the law or “restore order.” You are asking us to disappear and somehow keep serving you at the same time.
If we all left your world. The consequences would not hit everyone equally or at the same pace. So let us look for a moment at what this world would feel like specifically for the people who currently hold the most power.
If we all left, your world would not end overnight. That is the lie that makes this fantasy so tempting. For a little while, life at the top would look similar. The portfolio app would still open. The vacation house would still be there. The jet would still be fueled. You might even enjoy how quiet the airport lounge suddenly feels.
The cracks would not take long to show.
The resort you love would start canceling services because there are not enough housekeepers, line cooks, or maintenance staff. The concierge desk would sit empty more often. Response times would slow. The infinity pool would still be there, but the lifeguards and spa staff would not.
Your favorite restaurant would try to stay open with a thinner staff and a shorter menu. The dishes built on immigrant recipes passed down through families would be the first to go. The room would feel less alive. Eventually the lights would go out there as well.
The apps that run your life and your money would begin to wobble. The immigrant engineers, Black women data scientists, queer product managers, and disabled testers who caught the subtle edge cases would be gone. Bugs would pile up. Security gaps would stay open longer. The models your bank uses to manage risk would stop improving, because the quants who built them are no longer in the room.
Your health care would change too. Fewer nurses. Fewer home health aides. Fewer lab technicians to process tests. Longer waits for specialists. When your parents or partner need round the clock care, you would discover that there is no one left to hire, at any price.
The numbers in your accounts might still look large for a while. At the same time, your world would be shrinking. Fewer places to go. Fewer people to see. Fewer new ideas arriving at your desk. Every missing “Other” represents a missing worker, a missing customer, a missing entrepreneur, a missing artist, a missing neighbor.
You do not just lose labor. You lose demand, creativity, and meaning.
So, when you back policies and politicians whose entire platform is making life unlivable for people like me, understand what you are really asking for. You are not asking us to respect the law or “restore order.” You are asking us to disappear and somehow keep serving you at the same time.
If we all left, your world would still exist. It would also be smaller, lonelier, more fragile, and balanced on a foundation that no longer wants to hold you up.