If I were a billionaire, I鈥檇 be terrible at most traditional 鈥渞ich people鈥� activities.

I don鈥檛 need a private island. I don鈥檛 want a jet. I don鈥檛 care about having $500 sunglasses (pretty sure the ghosts of my sod-house-dwelling ancestors would appear to slap them out of my hands, anyway).

I feel like I鈥檇 be good at the philanthropy side, though.

Let鈥檚 stipulate that 90 per cent of my imaginary money will go towards curing cancer and Alzheimer鈥檚 disease, developing green energy technology, and ending world hunger.

What鈥檚 left, I鈥檓 going to spend on fun stuff.

There鈥檚 rocketry, but frankly, every union-busting billionaire has his own launch facility these days. I鈥檇 invest in balloon-assisted launch! That鈥檚 where you haul your rocket or spaceplane up a couple of miles by strapping it to high-altitude balloons, and launch it in the middle of the sky!

There are real arguments for this, but mostly I just think it would be awesome.

Then there鈥檚 rewilding. If you鈥檝e got enough money, you can get yourself a few million acres of land in Siberia or central North America. Maybe a little frozen DNA, a science team, and the next thing you know you鈥檙e sitting on your porch, watching cloned mammoths wander by.

Unfortunately, you can鈥檛 clone dinosaurs. I might invest in some realistic robot copies鈥�

There鈥檚 always politics, I suppose. It seems that the more money people have, the more they think it entitles them to push their views on everyone.

Well, I could play that game. If I ever get really rich, here鈥檚 what I鈥檒l lobby for:

鈥� Cats and dogs get the right to vote (C鈥檓on, you know they鈥檙e nicer than most people!).

鈥� You can hunt any kind of bear you want, as long as it鈥檚 a fair fight (i.e., you鈥檙e also naked, shoeless, and unarmed).

鈥� Commenting on an article without reading it first to be punished by five years in prison.

If you think I鈥檝e got what it takes to be a billionaire philanthropist, please feel free to sponsor me. I accept cash, cheques, or ridiculously large piles of gold bullion.