Bill Gates: Elite Hypocrisy: Preaching Sacrifice While Hedging Bets, By James Reed
The recent Guardian exposé (January 19, 2026, link below) shines a harsh light on one of the most prominent figures in global philanthropy and climate discourse: Bill Gates. End-of-year filings show the Gates Foundation Trust held $254 million in direct investments in fossil fuel extraction companies in 2024—companies like Chevron, BP, Shell, Glencore, Inpex, Equinor, and others. This figure marks a nine-year high, up 21% from 2016 levels (and the highest inflation-adjusted amount since 2019). Holdings in specific firms have grown markedly: Glencore from $5.7 million in 2015 to $14.1 million in 2024; BP from $8.7 million to $24.2 million; Inpex ballooning sevenfold since 2020 to $139 million.
This comes despite Gates' own statements. In his 2021 book How to Avoid a Climate Disaster, he reflected on 2019: "I don't want to profit if their stock prices go up because we don't develop zero-carbon alternatives... I'd feel bad if I benefited from a delay in getting to zero. So in 2019 I divested all my direct holdings in oil and gas companies, as did the trust that manages the Gates Foundation's endowment." He has long expressed septicism about divestment's effectiveness, arguing it has "zero" impact on emissions and doesn't help poor countries, while pushing instead for innovation in clean energy and adaptation.
The foundation, now one of the world's largest philanthropies, channels billions into public health, poverty reduction, education, and climate adaptation — noble causes. Yet the trust's portfolio tells a different story on the energy side. Investments rebounded after earlier reductions (from $1.4 billion in 2013 to $260 million in 2015, down to $133 million by 2020), reaching this 2024 peak. The foundation offered no comment when approached by the Guardian.
This isn't just about one billionaire — it's a glaring example of elite hypocrisy in the climate era. Gates has positioned himself as a thoughtful voice on planetary peril: warning of catastrophic warming, funding breakthrough energy ventures, and urging massive government R&D into zero-carbon tech. He frames climate change as an existential threat requiring innovation over simplistic bans or divestment theatre. Fair enough — many pragmatic observers agree that demonising fossil fuels without scalable alternatives risks energy poverty and economic collapse in developing nations.
But the double standard stings. When ordinary people are told to fly less, eat less meat, switch to EVs (often powered indirectly by the same fossil infrastructure), or pay carbon taxes that hit the working class hardest, the message lands differently coming from someone whose charitable vehicle profits from the very extractive industries he says are delaying the transition. It's not that holding oil stocks is inherently immoral, it's the mismatch between public rhetoric and private action.
From a realist perspective, there's nothing intrinsically wrong with investing in oil and gas; in fact it is necessary. We still need hydrocarbons to power civilisation, including the data centres, chip fabs, and electricity grids that make advanced AI possible. Without reliable, dense energy, the compute-intensive future Gates himself champions (via Microsoft/OpenAI ties) grinds to a halt. Renewables are scaling, but intermittency and grid limits mean fossil fuels remain essential for baseload and backup, especially in a world where demand surges from electrification and AI.
The painful part is the sanctimony. Gates has critiqued market short-termism for favouring fossil wins over long-term clean tech, yet his trust's portfolio includes bets on those same short-term winners. He divested heavily in the mid-2010s amid pressure, claimed full divestment in 2019 for moral reasons, but the numbers crept back up. This pattern — public virtue-signalling paired with pragmatic (or profit-seeking) hedging — isn't unique to Gates; it's endemic among climate-concerned elites who jet to COP summits while opposing policies that might crimp their lifestyles or portfolios.
Tying this to themes of institutional and cultural erosion discussed at the blog today: When the ultra-wealthy lecture on planetary stewardship while quietly maintaining exposure to the "dirty" economy they decry, it deepens public cynicism. Trust in elites erodes further — why should average citizens sacrifice if the messengers don't walk the talk? It fuels the sense that rules apply unevenly: one set for the masses (austerity, lifestyle curbs), another for the connected (innovation funding + diversified holdings).
Gates isn't quite a cartoon villain. But his hypocrisy undercuts the moral authority needed to rally collective action. If even the most prominent climate philanthropist can't fully align actions with words, what hope for systemic change?
Renewal starts with candour. Elites should admit fossil fuels' ongoing necessity while aggressively funding alternatives — no more pretending divestment alone moves the needle or that zero-carbon is imminent without trade-offs. For individuals and societies, the lesson is clear: demand consistency, but recognise energy reality. We need oil today to build the bridges to tomorrow's tech — including AI.
In short, invest in what works now, innovate furiously for what must come next, and drop the performative guilt. The planet doesn't need more hypocrisy — it needs honest engineering and unflinching realism. Gates could lead that shift by owning the contradiction outright. Until then, the double standard remains one more crack in the facade of trusted institutions and moral leadership.
https://jonfleetwood.substack.com/p/gates-holds-254-million-in-big-oil
