You can give poor people this royal wedding to watch and make

In the sharp words of Bo Burnham, “You can give poor people this royal wedding to watch and make them feel good about themselves, or you can give them something useful like, I don't know… a toaster,” we hear not jest alone but a truth that pierces the illusions of spectacle. The royal wedding, dazzling with crowns, jewels, and pageantry, is offered to the people as a vision of grandeur. Yet Burnham unmasks it as hollow comfort, a fleeting dream that vanishes with the turning of the screen. He contrasts this with the toaster, humble and practical, a symbol of sustenance, warmth, and daily need.

The meaning here is plain yet profound: it is better to meet the true needs of the people than to distract them with visions of wealth they cannot touch. Bread, shelter, and tools for life sustain the body; ceremony sustains only the imagination. Burnham’s irony reminds us that rulers and societies often pacify the poor not by lifting their burdens, but by giving them distractions, shadows of joy in place of substance.

History recalls the ancient policy of “bread and circuses” in Rome, when emperors offered games, chariot races, and gladiatorial combat to satisfy the masses. The people cheered in the arenas while their poverty remained unchanged. So too, Burnham suggests, the spectacle of royal pageantry is given as a modern circus, a display that costs much yet feeds nothing. The toaster, like Rome’s bread, would nourish where jewels cannot.

Yet there is also wisdom in his mockery: that the poor, though often given illusions, deserve dignity through usefulness. A wedding broadcast may inspire, but it will not warm their homes nor fill their bellies. The toaster, humble though it is, represents the power of the practical, the sacredness of meeting need rather than parading wealth. True compassion is measured not in grandeur but in the provision of what sustains life.

Thus, let this teaching endure: beware of those who offer spectacle in place of justice. Let rulers, leaders, and communities remember that to serve the people is not to dazzle them, but to equip them. For joy born of distraction fades like smoke, but joy born of daily sustenance endures. The wisdom of Burnham’s jest is this: better the warmth of bread toasted in the morning than a thousand crowns glimpsed only from afar.