Campaign design team
By Vincent Cordova · Candidate for U.S. President 2028
We are taught from childhood that poverty is the result of personal failure. Work harder, manage better, save more, and you won’t struggle. But step back for a moment and look at the system we live in: wages that do not keep pace with the cost of living, credit scores that punish people for paying off debt, housing that is treated as an investment vehicle instead of a human right, and now even whispers of expiring cash — money that disappears if you don’t spend it.
These are not accidents. Poverty is not a natural outcome of economics. Poverty is manufactured — carefully constructed through mechanisms of control that guarantee a steady supply of low-wage labor and keep ordinary people trapped in cycles of dependency.
Nobody wants to work for poverty wages. No one dreams of putting in 40 or 50 hours a week only to choose between rent and groceries. Yet millions do. Why? Because the system ensures there is no other choice.
When housing costs rise faster than paychecks, when healthcare can bankrupt you overnight, when credit scores collapse simply because you paid down debt, you are left with a simple reality: survival requires compliance. Low-wage jobs get filled not because they offer dignity or opportunity, but because fear — of eviction, of hunger, of debt collectors — forces people into them.
This is not about “lazy workers.” This is about a structure designed to keep wages low and people desperate.
Student loans, credit cards, payday lenders, medical bills — they are not simply financial tools, they are shackles. And the scoring system that governs them is rigged. Pay down your balances? Some models punish you. Carry a balance? That keeps the banks happy, and your score mysteriously steadier. Debt is engineered to be endless, ensuring workers must keep showing up, no matter how bad the pay.
While productivity has soared over the last 50 years, wages have barely moved. Corporate lobbying dismantled unions, flooded labor markets with unstable gig jobs, and wrote tax codes that favor profit extraction over people. A “minimum wage” is no minimum at all when it cannot provide shelter, food, and stability.
Housing, healthcare, and food are basic needs — but in the hands of corporations and private equity firms, they are profit centers. The result? Full-time workers relying on food banks. Families spending more on rent than they earn in wages. Parents working two or three jobs and still unable to afford medicine for their children.
Social safety nets are built with traps. Earn a little more, and you lose benefits. Move an inch forward, and you fall off a cliff. This is not a design flaw — it is a feature that keeps millions stuck where they are, ensuring a labor pool that can never fully climb out.
Now comes the idea of expiring cash — money that disappears if not spent. On the surface, it looks like a stimulus tool. In reality, it erases the very concept of saving. It tells people: consume endlessly, or lose what you’ve earned. Just as credit scoring keeps you indebted, expiring cash would keep you consuming, unable to build long-term stability.
Because corporations need it to. Poverty provides the labor force for jobs no one would take if they had options. It guarantees constant consumption. It keeps wealth and power concentrated at the top, while the rest of society runs on insecurity.
This is not freedom. This is captivity dressed up as “the market.”
But here is the truth they don’t want us to see: this system only works if we all quietly accept it. The moment we see poverty not as an accident, but as a manufactured design — the illusion crumbles.
We are not powerless. We are the numbers. Every corporation, every bank, every scoring system relies on the labor, the spending, and the compliance of ordinary people. And if ordinary people decide to demand change, the system has no choice but to respond.
We can demand:
Our lives are limited, and time is our most precious currency. We must make the best of it, and part of that means refusing to hand the next generation a rigged game. The mechanisms of control can be dismantled. The narrative of “personal failure” can be replaced with one of collective empowerment.
The next generation deserves opportunities that benefit them — not corporations. They deserve a future where stability is possible, where hard work means prosperity, and where freedom is measured not by how much debt you can manage, but by the dignity with which you can live.
Poverty is manufactured — but so is change. When enough of us recognize the truth and refuse to accept the mechanisms of control, the walls crack. And when they crack, they fall.
Together, we hold the power to transform a system designed to exploit into one designed to uplift. And when we succeed, we will not just level the playing field for ourselves — we will build a foundation where the next generations can rise higher, freer, and stronger than ever before.