In 2005, George Carlin stood on a New York City stage and told the crowd who really runs the country.

“It’s a big club, and you ain’t in it.”

Old George meant the people who own the land, the banks, and the politicians. Twenty-one years later, that club has opened a venture capital desk that sits inside Howie Lutnick’s Department of Commerce.

On October 22nd, Commerce signed letters of intent proposing to hand up to $389 million in CHIPS Act research money to four companies. Up to $175 million of that goes to Helion Energy, a fusion startup in Everett, Washington.

So far, so good.

Helion’s latest funding round raised $500 million, valuing the company at about $15.5 billion. Thrive Capital led the round.

If that name doesn’t ring a bell, that’s ok. It’s not supposed to.

Josh Kushner founded Thrive. Josh, of course, is Jared Kushner’s brother. As you know, Jared is The Donald’s son-in-law.

To be sure, no one has shown that a Kushner picked up a phone. Nobody has shown the Commerce Secretary owes anyone a favor. There’s no envelope or smoking gun or indictment.

But that’s not the point.

The Deal

Let’s lay out the deal the way the government describes it.

Helion builds fusion generators that fire huge electrical pulses. The company says the chips that switch and recover that power come only from overseas. So Commerce wants to pay for American versions.

More than $100 million goes to chip research in Everett. About $80 million goes to tooling and process work with a partner in Burlington, Vermont. Helion adds $50 million of private money, though its CEO won’t say how much of that was already committed before the award.

In return, the taxpayer - that’s you - gets a non-voting stake in Helion. At the price set by that Thrive-led round, $175 million buys about 1.1% of the company.

So you put up $175 million. In return, you get a 1% stake. Oh, and you can’t vote. The price was set by the last private investors in, not by you. You have no seat on the board.

The club calls this “industrial policy.”

Carlin had a shorter word for it, but company policy prohibits me from writing it here.

Why Government Money?

Helion just raised half a billion dollars from some of the sharpest investors around. It carried a $15.5 billion valuation before it had sold a single watt of fusion power. Clearly, the company had funding options.

If these chips are as vital as Commerce asserts, why won’t Helion’s own backers pay for them? They have the money and an obvious motive. A home-grown chip supply makes their $15.5 billion bet safer, not riskier.

There are two possible answers.

One: the project pays off for America as a whole, not just Helion. Other U.S. manufacturers could use the chips. That’s the government’s case, and it makes sense.

Two: when the USG is buying lunch, only a fool pays for his own.

Commerce hasn’t published the application, the scoring, the losing bids, or any ethics review.

So it’s impossible to know which answer is correct. Naturally, suspicion follows, especially considering this administration’s track record.

How Clubs Stay Small

As I’ve written many times, every leader needs a winning coalition to stay in power.

The smaller that coalition, the cheaper it is to pay off with private goods like contracts, licenses, loans, and grants. The bigger the coalition, the more a leader must deliver public goods, like sound money, honest courts, and filled potholes.

That’s why leaders prefer “selectorates” to electorates. They’re much smaller, especially in the US.

But America was built as a big coalition country.

Only now, the State picks single firms, takes equity stakes, and signs letters of intent. First, it was tungsten in Kazakhstan for the Trump boys. Then, it was rare-earth magnets at Vulcan Elements with Donald Jr.’s VC firm making out. Now, for the in-laws, it’s fusion chips in Everett.

Each one is a private good, and yet lands on someone already at the table.

This isn’t just a Trump problem.

Solyndra took $535 million in loan guarantees under Obama and went bust two years later. The club has members on both sides of the aisle. That’s why we call it the uniparty. Only who sits in the Oval Office changes every so often.

The Spigot, Once Again

Our old friend Richard Cantillon worked out three centuries ago that new money never spreads evenly. It lands first on the people closest to the source. They spend it at old prices. Everyone downstream pays more as prices go up.

The CHIPS Act looks like it’s Lutnick’s personal spigot.

The money magically appears. It flows to a chosen firm at a valuation set by the last insiders who got in. Those insiders now own a richer company with less risk. You own a non-voting stub, and the budget deficit gets bigger.

The club keeps its membership by making sure the money goes to the people already in the room before you know it exists.

The Good News, and There Is Some.

Fusion is real. If Helion’s machines work, cheap, clean power changes everything from aluminum to AI. High-voltage chips are a genuine bottleneck. Buying them abroad is risky.

And a government that takes equity is at least theoretically better than one that writes a grant and walks away. All four companies on the October 22nd list gave up equity, not just Helion.

If Howie and the boys want to be the general partners of a state-run venture capital firm with taxpayer funds, let them. But demand they explain why a $15.5 billion company needs public cash.

No moolah before that.

You’re the limited partner in this state-based fund. Like Don King said, “You don’t get what you deserve. You get what you negotiate.” So, negotiate.

Wrap Up

Carlin said the club owns everything. Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. But they surely own the table.

The script repeats every time. A small company with connected backers in a sector declared vital. Then comes the taxpayer funds. The private stake re-rates.

The press release lauds the investors' genius, except it doesn’t mention your investment.

You can’t buy your way into the club, and you can’t vote at its meetings. But you can stop being surprised.