Suppose just half of one percent of Americans decide to leave. That’s not mass exodus. That’s the mosquito in the room. Small. Easy to ignore. Until it bites—and your entire night is ruined.
So let’s run the numbers.
Half of 1% of Americans is roughly 1.9 million people.
Suppose just half of one percent of Americans decide to leave. That’s not mass exodus. That’s the mosquito in the room. Small. Easy to ignore. Until it bites—and your entire night is ruined.
So let’s run the numbers.
Half of 1% of Americans is roughly 1.9 million people.
Now, we’re not talking about retirees or backpackers (not that I'm against them or saying they don't matter, they just don't matter for this argument.) We’re talking about the people I describe in this piece—globally mobile, high-earning professionals. Entrepreneurs. Tech workers. Legal, medical, and financial talent. Most with liquid capital, portable skills, and a deep understanding of leverage.
What’s their average net worth? Let’s go conservative and say $1 million. That might sound high—but not for a 40-something surgeon, a SaaS founder, or a dual-income couple in Boston with home equity and a 401(k). Some will have $200K. Some will have $20 million. But $1M average is a fair assumption, even a cautious one.
So what does that mean?
$1.9 trillion in capital walks out the door. Immediately. That’s about 7% of U.S. GDP.
Now take it further. Let’s assume they don’t just sit on that capital, but put it to work abroad. Conservative annual growth—say 6%–8% depending on risk appetite—means that money compounds over time.
In 30 years, that’s somewhere between $10 trillion and $20 trillion in lost capital appreciation, investment, and productivity. That's a third to nearly 3/4ths of the current US GDP, OUT THE DOOR. Gone. Bye-bye!
Gone. Not taxed. Not reinvested. Not spent in the U.S.
But that’s not even the real cost.
The real damage comes from the loss of capacity. The kinds of people who leave are:
Founders who would have started the next mid-sized firm employing 200 people.
Doctors in rural hospitals struggling to retain staff.
Defense engineers building the next generation of satellite tech.
Senior programmers who maintain legacy code nobody else understands.
Policy experts who quietly keep federal systems from falling apart.
You don’t need tens of millions to leave. You need the wrong 1% to leave. Because those are the people who maintain the system.
And history tells us how this plays out.
In Venezuela, it was oil engineers.
In Iran, it was academics and doctors.
In Hong Kong, it was financial professionals and media figures.
In South Africa, it was everyone with a second passport.
It doesn’t take a flood. Just a few key leaks—left unrepaired—and the dam eventually breaks.
Now, will most Americans leave? Of course not. Many will stay for family, familiarity, and inertia. But here’s the twist: the first movers create the on-ramps. They build the exit paths. They show others it’s possible.
And when the U.S. government realizes this trickle is turning into a trend, they’ll act. Quietly. Bureaucratically. Predictably.
Delayed or revoked passports for those with tax disputes.
Visa and investment restrictions tied to “national security interests.”
Quiet pressure on foreign governments to reject U.S. emigrants or extradite those who flee.
No walls. No jackboots. Just friction. Delays. “Administrative processing.”
The U.S. will become the Hotel California: You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.
This isn’t hypothetical. Ask any Cuban doctor. Or Chinese dissident. Or South African hedge fund manager.
We are watching the early stages of a brain drain. And like most historical drains, the public won’t notice it until it's already well underway—because by then, the people who would’ve sounded the alarm will already be gone.
Let me lay it out.
Suppose just half of one percent of Americans decide to leave. That’s not mass exodus. That’s the mosquito in the room. Small. Easy to ignore. Until it bites—and your entire night is ruined.
So let’s run the numbers.
Half of 1% of Americans is roughly 1.9 million people.
Now, we’re not talking about retirees or backpackers (not that I'm against them or saying they don't matter, they just don't matter for this argument.) We’re talking about the people I describe in this piece—globally mobile, high-earning professionals. Entrepreneurs. Tech workers. Legal, medical, and financial talent. Most with liquid capital, portable skills, and a deep understanding of leverage.
What’s their average net worth? Let’s go conservative and say $1 million. That might sound high—but not for a 40-something surgeon, a SaaS founder, or a dual-income couple in Boston with home equity and a 401(k). Some will have $200K. Some will have $20 million. But $1M average is a fair assumption, even a cautious one.
So what does that mean?
$1.9 trillion in capital walks out the door. Immediately. That’s about 7% of U.S. GDP.
Now take it further. Let’s assume they don’t just sit on that capital, but put it to work abroad. Conservative annual growth—say 6%–8% depending on risk appetite—means that money compounds over time.
In 30 years, that’s somewhere between $10 trillion and $20 trillion in lost capital appreciation, investment, and productivity. That's a third to nearly 3/4ths of the current US GDP, OUT THE DOOR. Gone. Bye-bye!
Gone. Not taxed. Not reinvested. Not spent in the U.S.
But that’s not even the real cost.
The real damage comes from the loss of capacity. The kinds of people who leave are:
Founders who would have started the next mid-sized firm employing 200 people.
Doctors in rural hospitals struggling to retain staff.
Defense engineers building the next generation of satellite tech.
Senior programmers who maintain legacy code nobody else understands.
Policy experts who quietly keep federal systems from falling apart.
You don’t need tens of millions to leave. You need the wrong 1% to leave. Because those are the people who maintain the system.
And history tells us how this plays out.
In Venezuela, it was oil engineers.
In Iran, it was academics and doctors.
In Hong Kong, it was financial professionals and media figures.
In South Africa, it was everyone with a second passport.
It doesn’t take a flood. Just a few key leaks—left unrepaired—and the dam eventually breaks.
Now, will most Americans leave? Of course not. Many will stay for family, familiarity, and inertia. But here’s the twist: the first movers create the on-ramps. They build the exit paths. They show others it’s possible.
And when the U.S. government realizes this trickle is turning into a trend, they’ll act. Quietly. Bureaucratically. Predictably.
Expect:
Enhanced exit tax enforcement under IRC §877A.
Stricter offshore reporting (FBAR, FATCA crackdowns).
Delayed or revoked passports for those with tax disputes.
Visa and investment restrictions tied to “national security interests.”
Quiet pressure on foreign governments to reject U.S. emigrants or extradite those who flee.
No walls. No jackboots. Just friction. Delays. “Administrative processing.”
The U.S. will become the Hotel California: You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.
This isn’t hypothetical. Ask any Cuban doctor. Or Chinese dissident. Or South African hedge fund manager.
We are watching the early stages of a brain drain. And like most historical drains, the public won’t notice it until it's already well underway—because by then, the people who would’ve sounded the alarm will already be gone.
Small change.
Big consequences.
The mosquito is already in the room.
Putting a number on makes it real. Another reason to leave is because of the brain drain. Theocracy wrapped up in conspiracy theories…