Survival Of The Richest? Not So Much...

Billionaire bozos think they're going to "control" guys like this when things get frisky? Stop, you're killing me. They'll eat their boss for brunch, after they toy with his intestines. In front of him, while he watches.

Back from a break, "Sam Culper" is back at it on Forward Observer.

Yesterday's thought-provoking piece concerned the tale of a futrurologist counseling billionaires about the pending Zompocalypse.

"Finally, the CEO of a brokerage house explained that he had nearly completed building his own underground bunker system and asked, “How do I maintain authority over my security force after the event?” 

The Event. That was their euphemism for the environmental collapse, social unrest, nuclear explosion, unstoppable virus, or Mr. Robot hack that takes everything down. 

This single question occupied us for the rest of the hour. They knew armed guards would be required to protect their compounds from the angry mobs. But how would they pay the guards once money was worthless? What would stop the guards from choosing their own leader? The billionaires considered using special combination locks on the food supply that only they knew."

"Hired security force"??
Idiot savants.
Money ╪ Brains.

The term for a hired security force after "The Event", is mercenaries.
Power at that point will flow from the barrel of a gun.
And if you're holding onto the combination to the food locker, they'll all be pointed at you.
Not at your head, though. They'll start about three feet lower.

Some billionaire bozo thinks he's going to "maintain control" by withholding the combination to the food locker will find out what "enhanced interrogation" does to jog his memory, one body part at a time.

They'll probably start with his family, just for S&G.

Either way, the suddenly-superfluous rich yokels will be sacrificed by their hired security, if they haven't got a band around them with much stronger bonds of loyalty than merely taking scraps from the billionaires' tables.
Those idiots are merrily marching into the land of Unknown Unknowns: they don't know what they don't know.
And the animals there are higher than billionaires on the food chain.

Hitchcock made a great movie called Lifeboat. It should be required viewing,  Along with films like The Wild Geese, The Grey,  and The Edge, with freewheeling discussion afterwards, to anyone who thinks they're ready for "The Event" just because they've stocked a distant shelter to which they hope to flee, and think they'll end up running their mercenaries like they do their boardrooms. Besides "because the writers wrote it that way", the reason Anthony Hopkins and Liam Neeson maintained leadership control over their respective groups was because they both brought knowledge and skills to the group that the group didn't have. If all you're bringing is stuff, somebody who can't see the need for you once that day arrives will get rid of you, and your stuff will become his stuff.

When Scrooge McDick arrives at his chosen ark of safety, he'll be made hostage by the exact security force he's put in place, five seconds after the gates close. The womenfolk in the party will be considered "entertainment". Once they've yielded what they each have to offer, they'll either be killed (if they're lucky), or else enslaved. Welcome to the real world since, oh, forever.

Bonds of common interest and blood will be what matters, and even those will be trumped by those with necessary and irreplaceable knowledge and skills, not who has the most toys. I believe Mosby's term is "frith".

Come "The Event", you're either the alpha wolf, a valued member of the pack, or dinner. The only part of The Revenant worth watching for two minutes is seeing the moment when Leo Decaprio plays the part of "bear's bitch", and that's what happens to you when you try to control predators above you on both the food chain, and the pecking order of intelligence. They won't work for peanuts when you withhold them; they'll simply eat you. As more than one Darwin Award-winning knucklehead has found out - fleetingly - when informing Mr. Bear that "there are no more marshmallows". That only ever turns out well for the bear.

"That guy was delicious! BUUURP!"

Thus endeth the lesson.