Two hours before Franklin County Commissioner Kevin Boyce was to be the keynote speaker at the Columbus VA annual MLK lunch, an organizer told Mr. Boyce he could not mention DEI topics or anything deemed "politically charged" due to President Donald Trump's executive orders limiting DEI in the federal government. Unwilling to compromise his values, Kevin withdrew from the event.

“It was an insult to demand that I restrict my comments to not include equity and inclusion, I can’t separate diversity from the memory of Dr. King,”

Kevin Boyce believes that the opposite of poverty is justice. With funding provided by Franklin County Board of Commissioners and the City of Columbus, the Rise Together Innovation Institute is on a mission to harness the collective power of people and systems to disrupt structural racism and issues of poverty.

Kevin’s father was killed when he was just 7 years old. He credits his mother and grandmother for inspiring his success – and thanks teachers, coaches and his grandmother for convincing a judge to give him a stern warning, not time in juvenile detention, after a street fight landed him in court. He was 16. The brawl began with Kevin defending a bullied friend but ended with a charge of aggravated rioting. His unblemished record, accolades from teachers and coaches and a heart-felt letter from grandmother, resulted in a second chance.

Today, Kevin's oldest son attends Brown University on a scholarship. “When I think that I grew up in a house that didn’t always have electricity or running water, and now I have a son attending an Ivy League school, I hope I can use my abilities to help other kids get the opportunities they need to succeed,’’ he said.

Kevin became the first in his family to earn a college degree – a bachelor’s degree from the University of Toledo. It’s there he met political science professor Jack Ford, who would later serve as minority leader of the Ohio House of Representatives. Seeing Kevin’s affinity for public policy and passion to improve his community, Ford talked Kevin into coming to Columbus with him. He eventually rose to become Ford’s chief of staff.

There’s an old English song, “It’s the rich what gets the pleasure. It's the poor what gets the pain.” The song holds true today. We talk with Bill LaFayette, the owner of Regionomics, about the expanding wealth gap in America.

In 1980, the income of one percent of Americans was 23 times that of the other 90%. In 2022, the income of the top one percent was 69 times the income of the bottom 90%. In 1965, CEO compensation at the 350 largest publicly traded firms was 21 times the typical worker's compensation. In 2023, CEO compensation was 290 times a typical worker’s compensation.

Some of the big differences between then and now was a much higher tax rate and more economic regulation. And then, things changed. Big business argued it was being hamstrung by regulations and persuaded Congress to loosen those regulations. Plus, we saw the birth of the trickledown theory, which benefitted the wealthy and did nothing for those of low income. The rich got richer, and the poor got left behind.

Contributing to wealth inequality is the legacy left by discrimination. Low-income neighborhoods, largely populated by minorities, were redlined by banks, making it impossible to buy homes and accumulate wealth. Though redlining was declared unlawful in the 1960s, its vestiges remain. The neighborhoods that were subjected to redlining are often the same neighborhoods that remain impoverished today.

Politicians don’t help. They’re influenced by those who can write checks, a luxury well beyond those at the bottom of the economic ladder.

Adding to the problem: low-income workers are often maligned as either lazy or living off the government dole, when, in reality, many are disadvantaged because of their zip code; they live in neighborhoods that lack resources, opportunities, safety and other benefits most of take for granted.

Listen to our conversation with Bill LaFayette.

With billionaires like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos circling in President Trump’s orbit, we are witnessing a new age of extremely wealthy business owners seeking to expand their influence on the government. The robbers barons of the late 19th century—JP Morgan, Cornelius Vanderbilt, John D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie—had nothing on these fellows.

As we moved into the mid-20th century, the wealthy wanted to hide their wealth—as if they were like everyone else. When Fortune magazine first published its list of the wealthiest Americans in the 1970s, the people listed weren’t happy about it. They wanted that information kept private.

Things are different now. Society, it seems, is on a new wave of revering people of great wealth, and wealth is seen as an indicator of wisdom and intellect, and men like Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy act as if they know everything, even when it comes to running the federal government.

But the difference between running a business and running the government is huge. With a business, there is one goal: profitability. With government comes the obligation of doing the greatest good for the greatest number of people. It's rare to see a business person who can make that kind of transition.

Men like Musk and tech moguls Peter Thiel and Marc Andreessen exhibit a libertarian ideology. They seem to think they don’t owe anything to anybody, never mind how they may have made their money or who helped them get their start. And they don’t want to be hampered in any way in how they do business, and so they resent government interference.

These titans of business are poised to exert their influence in ways we haven’t seen before. Just take a look at who was seated closest to President Trump during his second inauguration.

Listen to our conversation with Steve Conn, professor of history at Miami University.