Camille here, so glad you asked.
I could take a tip from all the Miss America interviews I've ever heard before I could reach the mute button, and call for world peace and more money for animal shelters. Or I could indulge myself in the fantasy of complete science literacy for every child and adult.
But those are unrealistic goals. So I'm choosing a goal well within reach:
ELIMINATE PAID PROFESSIONAL SPORTS.
See, how easy is that? People could still play, to their hearts' content, but they wouldn't be paid for playing (hello!); they'd just be paid at their day jobs, like the rest of us. (No one pays me to play yahtzee, for example, or rummy with my friends/team.) Fans could watch, balls could be signed, and popcorn eaten. Possibly even little tip jars could be available at the gates, to defray costs of equipment, in case the players' day jobs were, say, minimum wage.
Here's a sample of the way it is now:
• an NFL cornerback (what is that even?) just agreed to a five-year, $70 million contract;
• a hockey player signed for $14 million;
• a starting pitcher for one team makes (can't bring myself to say earns) $4,275,000 for 1 year;
• another pitcher in the south signed a contract for $210,000,000 over seven years. $30,000,000 a year!
An author friend recently blogged about this last contract, breaking it down by inning. The player pitched an average of 210 innings a season, so he makes roughly $140,000 for every inning he "works".
The average teacher's salary in the same state is about one third that: $50,000 for the whole year.
Is this the fault of the ancient Greeks, who honored their athletes often at the same level as their gods? I wonder how much the Greeks paid their teachers back in 100 AD?
You may not believe it, but I used to be a fangirl, the kind who worshiped players.
My most obsessive fan days were when I almost followed the Boston Braves to Milwaukee—Lou Perini (the bad guy) moved his baseball franchise when I was in high school. More about that here. It took a while for me to absorb the fact that baseball was a business, not truly a sport, played for the pleasure of its fans, but a business, as cutthroat and out-of-control as any self-serving business, with salaries as out of whack as those of your least popular CEOs. It was a rude but necessary awakening, one I would need for every undertaking in my life.
So, watch out fans. As soon as I'm appointed to rule the world, we'll need to cheer for something else. Maybe we could start with classrooms and teachers?