There's a tension baked into this observation that we still feel today. When inequality grows too wide, the wealthy don't actually gain security—they inherit instability. They get gated communities, private security, separate schools. But they can't buy their way out of living in a society that's fracturing. The poor aren't abstractions or charity cases in this equation; they're fellow citizens whose desperation eventually affects everyone's quality of life.
What makes this stick is that it reframes compassion as self-interest without being cynical about it. You don't need to be noble to support systems that help struggling people—you just need to understand that shared prosperity isn't a luxury the rich can afford to skip. A society where most people are drowning tends to produce crime, instability, and resentment that no amount of wealth can shield you from.
The flip side most people don't think about: a free society isn't actually free if it's rigged so badly that most people have no real options. Freedom matters less when you're desperate. So the question isn't really whether the wealthy should help the poor out of kindness. It's whether they want to live in an actual free society—or just a wealthy one.