6 things you NEED to know about the Silicon Valley Bank collapse

NurPhoto / Contributor | Getty Images

Silicon Valley Bank's collapse is sparking traumatic memories of the 2008 financial crash. Should we be worried SVB is signaling a similar economic catastrophe, or is everyone overreacting to the media's hype? Glenn told his listeners to be "healthily terrified." This event is sure to have ripple effects throughout the economy, but the more you are informed about it, the more you can prepare. Here are 6 things you need to know about Silicon Valley Bank's crash—explained in simple words.

1. The short answer to what happened: SVB didn't have enough money to pay its depositors.

Remember the scene from It's a Wonderful Life when all of the residents make a run on George Bailey's bank demanding their money? Fortunately for them, their money was in the altruistic hands of George Bailey, who used his honeymoon savings to give the depositors the money they demanded.

Silicon Valley Bank's depositors weren't so lucky.

In short, the depositors made a run on Silicon Valley Bank, demanding the withdrawal of their money. But SVB simply didn't have the liquid money available to give their depositors, causing regulators to shut down the bank shortly afterward.

2. It all started with COVID...

Why didn't SVB have enough money for its depositors? To explain this, we have to go back to the pandemic era.

The pandemic saw a rapid decrease in spending and a massive increase in bank deposits. Due to the uncertainty of the future and lockdowns limiting ways to spend money on recreational activities, like restaurants, bars, and other outlets, many Americans stocked up money in their accounts. In fact, SVB's deposits doubled in 2021 alone, bringing in more money than they could lend out to their clients.

To make a return on their available cash, SVB wanted to invest it, as many banks do. Since they had reached their lending limit, they decided to invest it in U.S. Treasury Securities, which are the government's means of funding itself without using taxation (in a nutshell). These are considered "ultra-safe" investments because they are backed by the "full faith and credit of the federal government."

Unlike other forms of investments, investing in Treasuries means the government will do everything within its legal power to pay back the money used to fund itself. In other words, it is typically very safe... so what happened?

3. Then came the magic cocktail—record-high inflation and rising interest rates...

Interest rates ruined the typically "ultra-safe" investment. Due to 40-year record-high inflation, the Fed lifted rates eight times by a total of 4.25 percentage points in 2022, raising interest rates from 0.25 percent to 4.375 percent. This means the value of U.S. Treasuries investments plummeted rapidly. SVB reported that it lost $1.8 billion due to the decreased value of its Treasuries investments after a year of rising interest rates.

This raises the following question: why didn't SVB just weather the storm and wait for interest rates to decrease? There are two issues with this. The first is that, with so many of their assets held up in Treasuries investments, SVB still wouldn't have enough liquid assets to give their depositors during the bank run.

The second issue is that Treasuries investments have a ten-year limit. In 2021 during the Trump administration, interest rates were at an all-time low of 0.125 percent.

The record-fast increase of interest rates in 2022 caused very little chance for rates to go back down to their historic 2021 lows within ten years for banks to make their money back on their investments.

To avoid this, SVB planned to sell their investments at a loss and re-purchase Treasuries investments at the decreased value, giving them an extra ten years to bet on decreased interest rates in the future.

But people caught on to SVB's plan and didn't want to ride with the risk.

4. Account holders withdrew their money... FAST.

As aforementioned, SVP lost $1.8 billion when it sold its depleted Treasuries investments. While they were betting on being able to re-purchase the devalued securities, hoping that they would go up in value in the future with lowered interest rates, investors were worried about the risk.

Once they made the announcement of their $1.8 billion loss, their stocks began to drop, and venture capitalists warned the companies they invest in to pull out of SVB. This had a snowball effect, leading to a "bank run" of depositors demanding to withdraw their money from their SVB accounts.

This led to the perfect storm: SVB's investment losses coupled with the influx of withdrawals were so immense that regulators had to step in and shut the bank down to protect depositors. The government currently "running" SVB, for all practical purposes, is the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC). The FDIC closed SVB on Friday and reopened the bank on Monday, March 13th as the Deposit Insurance Bank of Santa Clara.

5. Some people may lose their money. 

Banks insure accounts with $250,000 or less with FDIC insurance. That means, in cases of bank failure, exactly like this one, the FDIC covers all accounts less than $250,000. The FDIC said SVB customers who had less than $250,000 in their accounts will have access to all of their money when the bank reopens. Since it reopened this week, they should have access to their funds.

However, many of SVB's depositors had more than $250,000 in their accounts—it is Silicon Valley after all. Therefore, their accounts were not covered by FDIC insurance. Will they get their money back? There is a chance that they will not.

It is unclear how much SVB currently has to cover uninsured deposits. It is likely not enough. The FDIC has issued a "Receiver's Certificate" to the uninsured account holders with the amount in their account that is not covered by FDIC insurance.

The FDIC said it will pay some of the uninsured deposits by next week by liquidating any additional assets held by SVB. However, if the liquidated assets are not enough, many of SVB's uninsured account holders could lose their money for good.

6. Is this 2008 all over again?

SVB's collapse was the largest bank failure since 2008, when Washington Mutual failed with $307 billion in assets. Its failure, along with the collapse of the Lehman Brother's investment bank, triggered the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression. Are we in danger of repeating 2008?

Some argue that we are not in danger of another economic catastrophe, simply because SVB holds less than 1 percent of the nation's assets. However, as Glenn warns, there is a danger of banks repeating the same mistakes as SVP.

SVP wasn't the only bank to use its surplus deposits to invest in U.S. Treasuries, which means that other banks are wrestling with the depleted value of their securities investments due to rising interest rates.

Bank of America, for example, lost $109 billion in their securities investments due to rising interest rates, the most among its peers—and Bank of America is no small fish in the ocean of assets.

Other major banks recorded other massive losses in their securities investments due to rising interest rates. JP Morgan Chase lost $36 billion, Wells Fargo lost $41 billion, Citigroup lost $25 billion, and Goldman Sachs lost $1 billion. If the little banks collapse, will they get the same effort and attention from the federal government as the "big guys?"

The critic may argue that these are still small values given the incredibly large amount of assets held in banks nationwide. However, this is missing the point. Major banks have majorly invested in securities since the pandemic-era skyrocketing rate of deposits. Now those investments are depleted in value.

They can either sell those investments at a loss, or they can wait and hope that they will recover over time. However, if those investments are no longer liquid, what happens when their depositors come knocking? Will they have enough liquid assets to cover a massive bank run? These are the lingering questions that our banks need to address.

As Glenn says, this will impact you—it is only a matter of time. What will you do to prepare?

What our response to Israel reveals about us

JOSEPH PREZIOSO / Contributor | Getty Images

I have been honored to receive the Defender of Israel Award from Prime Minister Netanyahu.

The Jerusalem Post recently named me one of the strongest Christian voices in support of Israel.

And yet, my support is not blind loyalty. It’s not a rubber stamp for any government or policy. I support Israel because I believe it is my duty — first as a Christian, but even if I weren’t a believer, I would still support her as a man of reason, morality, and common sense.

Because faith isn’t required to understand this: Israel’s existence is not just about one nation’s survival — it is about the survival of Western civilization itself.

It is a lone beacon of shared values in the Middle East. It is a bulwark standing against radical Islam — the same evil that seeks to dismantle our own nation from within.

And my support is not rooted in politics. It is rooted in something simpler and older than politics: a people’s moral and historical right to their homeland, and their right to live in peace.

Israel has that right — and the right to defend herself against those who openly, repeatedly vow her destruction.

Let’s make it personal: if someone told me again and again that they wanted to kill me and my entire family — and then acted on that threat — would I not defend myself? Wouldn’t you? If Hamas were Canada, and we were Israel, and they did to us what Hamas has done to them, there wouldn’t be a single building left standing north of our border. That’s not a question of morality.

That’s just the truth. All people — every people — have a God-given right to protect themselves. And Israel is doing exactly that.

My support for Israel’s right to finish the fight against Hamas comes after eighty years of rejected peace offers and failed two-state solutions. Hamas has never hidden its mission — the eradication of Israel. That’s not a political disagreement.

That’s not a land dispute. That is an annihilationist ideology. And while I do not believe this is America’s war to fight, I do believe — with every fiber of my being — that it is Israel’s right, and moral duty, to defend her people.

Criticism of military tactics is fair. That’s not antisemitism. But denying Israel’s right to exist, or excusing — even celebrating — the barbarity of Hamas? That’s something far darker.

We saw it on October 7th — the face of evil itself. Women and children slaughtered. Babies burned alive. Innocent people raped and dragged through the streets. And now, to see our own fellow citizens march in defense of that evil… that is nothing short of a moral collapse.

If the chants in our streets were, “Hamas, return the hostages — Israel, stop the bombing,” we could have a conversation.

But that’s not what we hear.

What we hear is open sympathy for genocidal hatred. And that is a chasm — not just from decency, but from humanity itself. And here lies the danger: that same hatred is taking root here — in Dearborn, in London, in Paris — not as horror, but as heroism. If we are not vigilant, the enemy Israel faces today will be the enemy the free world faces tomorrow.

This isn’t about politics. It’s about truth. It’s about the courage to call evil by its name and to say “Never again” — and mean it.

And you don’t have to open a Bible to understand this. But if you do — if you are a believer — then this issue cuts even deeper. Because the question becomes: what did God promise, and does He keep His word?

He told Abraham, “I will bless those who bless you, and curse those who curse you.” He promised to make Abraham the father of many nations and to give him “the whole land of Canaan.” And though Abraham had other sons, God reaffirmed that promise through Isaac. And then again through Isaac’s son, Jacob — Israel — saying: “The land I gave to Abraham and Isaac I give to you and to your descendants after you.”

That’s an everlasting promise.

And from those descendants came a child — born in Bethlehem — who claimed to be the Savior of the world. Jesus never rejected His title as “son of David,” the great King of Israel.

He said plainly that He came “for the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” And when He returns, Scripture says He will return as “the Lion of the tribe of Judah.” And where do you think He will go? Back to His homeland — Israel.

Tamir Kalifa / Stringer | Getty Images

And what will He find when He gets there? His brothers — or his brothers’ enemies? Will the roads where He once walked be preserved? Or will they lie in rubble, as Gaza does today? If what He finds looks like the aftermath of October 7th, then tell me — what will be my defense as a Christian?

Some Christians argue that God’s promises to Israel have been transferred exclusively to the Church. I don’t believe that. But even if you do, then ask yourself this: if we’ve inherited the promises, do we not also inherit the land? Can we claim the birthright and then, like Esau, treat it as worthless when the world tries to steal it?

So, when terrorists come to slaughter Israelis simply for living in the land promised to Abraham, will we stand by? Or will we step forward — into the line of fire — and say,

“Take me instead”?

Because this is not just about Israel’s right to exist.

It’s about whether we still know the difference between good and evil.

It’s about whether we still have the courage to stand where God stands.

And if we cannot — if we will not — then maybe the question isn’t whether Israel will survive. Maybe the question is whether we will.

When did Americans start cheering for chaos?

MATHIEU LEWIS-ROLLAND / Contributor | Getty Images

Every time we look away from lawlessness, we tell the next mob it can go a little further.

Chicago, Portland, and other American cities are showing us what happens when the rule of law breaks down. These cities have become openly lawless — and that’s not hyperbole.

When a governor declares she doesn’t believe federal agents about a credible threat to their lives, when Chicago orders its police not to assist federal officers, and when cartels print wanted posters offering bounties for the deaths of U.S. immigration agents, you’re looking at a country flirting with anarchy.

Two dangers face us now: the intimidation of federal officers and the normalization of soldiers as street police. Accept either, and we lose the republic.

This isn’t a matter of partisan politics. The struggle we’re watching now is not between Democrats and Republicans. It’s between good and evil, right and wrong, self‑government and chaos.

Moral erosion

For generations, Americans have inherited a republic based on law, liberty, and moral responsibility. That legacy is now under assault by extremists who openly seek to collapse the system and replace it with something darker.

Antifa, well‑financed by the left, isn’t an isolated fringe any more than Occupy Wall Street was. As with Occupy, big money and global interests are quietly aligned with “anti‑establishment” radicals. The goal is disruption, not reform.

And they’ve learned how to condition us. Twenty‑five years ago, few Americans would have supported drag shows in elementary schools, biological males in women’s sports, forced vaccinations, or government partnerships with mega‑corporations to decide which businesses live or die. Few would have tolerated cartels threatening federal agents or tolerated mobs doxxing political opponents. Yet today, many shrug — or cheer.

How did we get here? What evidence convinced so many people to reverse themselves on fundamental questions of morality, liberty, and law? Those long laboring to disrupt our republic have sought to condition people to believe that the ends justify the means.

Promoting “tolerance” justifies women losing to biological men in sports. “Compassion” justifies harboring illegal immigrants, even violent criminals. Whatever deluded ideals Antifa espouses is supposed to somehow justify targeting federal agents and overturning the rule of law. Our culture has been conditioned for this moment.

The buck stops with us

That’s why the debate over using troops to restore order in American cities matters so much. I’ve never supported soldiers executing civilian law, and I still don’t. But we need to speak honestly about what the Constitution allows and why. The Posse Comitatus Act sharply limits the use of the military for domestic policing. The Insurrection Act, however, exists for rare emergencies — when federal law truly can’t be enforced by ordinary means and when mobs, cartels, or coordinated violence block the courts.

Even then, the Constitution demands limits: a public proclamation ordering offenders to disperse, transparency about the mission, a narrow scope, temporary duration, and judicial oversight.

Soldiers fight wars. Cops enforce laws. We blur that line at our peril.

But we also cannot allow intimidation of federal officers or tolerate local officials who openly obstruct federal enforcement. Both extremes — lawlessness on one side and militarization on the other — endanger the republic.

The only way out is the Constitution itself. Protect civil liberty. Enforce the rule of law. Demand transparency. Reject the temptation to justify any tactic because “our side” is winning. We’ve already seen how fear after 9/11 led to the Patriot Act and years of surveillance.

KAMIL KRZACZYNSKI / Contributor | Getty Images

Two dangers face us now: the intimidation of federal officers and the normalization of soldiers as street police. Accept either, and we lose the republic. The left cannot be allowed to shut down enforcement, and the right cannot be allowed to abandon constitutional restraint.

The real threat to the republic isn’t just the mobs or the cartels. It’s us — citizens who stop caring about truth and constitutional limits. Anything can be justified when fear takes over. Everything collapses when enough people decide “the ends justify the means.”

We must choose differently. Uphold the rule of law. Guard civil liberties. And remember that the only way to preserve a government of, by, and for the people is to act like the people still want it.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

In the quiet aftermath of a profound loss, the Christian community mourns the unexpected passing of Dr. Voddie Baucham, a towering figure in evangelical circles. Known for his defense of biblical truth, Baucham, a pastor, author, and theologian, left a legacy on family, faith, and opposing "woke" ideologies in the church. His book Fault Lines challenged believers to prioritize Scripture over cultural trends. Glenn had Voddie on the show several times, where they discussed progressive influences in Christianity, debunked myths of “Christian nationalism,” and urged hope amid hostility.

The shock of Baucham's death has deeply affected his family. Grieving, they remain hopeful in Christ, with his wife, Bridget, now facing the task of resettling in the US without him. Their planned move from Lusaka, Zambia, was disrupted when their home sale fell through last December, resulting in temporary Airbnb accommodations, but they have since secured a new home in Cape Coral that requires renovations. To ensure Voddie's family is taken care of, a fundraiser is being held to raise $2 million, which will be invested for ongoing support, allowing Bridget to focus on her family.

We invite readers to contribute prayerfully. If you feel called to support the Bauchams in this time of need, you can click here to donate.

We grieve and pray with hope for the Bauchams.

May Voddie's example inspire us.

Loneliness isn’t just being alone — it’s feeling unseen, unheard, and unimportant, even amid crowds and constant digital chatter.

Loneliness has become an epidemic in America. Millions of people, even when surrounded by others, feel invisible. In tragic irony, we live in an age of unparalleled connectivity, yet too many sit in silence, unseen and unheard.

I’ve been experiencing this firsthand. My children have grown up and moved out. The house that once overflowed with life now echoes with quiet. Moments that once held laughter now hold silence. And in that silence, the mind can play cruel games. It whispers, “You’re forgotten. Your story doesn’t matter.”

We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

It’s a lie.

I’ve seen it in others. I remember sitting at Rockefeller Center one winter, watching a woman lace up her ice skates. Her clothing was worn, her bag battered. Yet on the ice, she transformed — elegant, alive, radiant.

Minutes later, she returned to her shoes, merged into the crowd, unnoticed. I’ve thought of her often. She was not alone in her experience. Millions of Americans live unseen, performing acts of quiet heroism every day.

Shared pain makes us human

Loneliness convinces us to retreat, to stay silent, to stop reaching out to others. But connection is essential. Even small gestures — a word of encouragement, a listening ear, a shared meal — are radical acts against isolation.

I’ve learned this personally. Years ago, a caller called me “Mr. Perfect.” I could have deflected, but I chose honesty. I spoke of my alcoholism, my failed marriage, my brokenness. I expected judgment. Instead, I found resonance. People whispered back, “I’m going through the same thing. Thank you for saying it.”

Our pain is universal. Everyone struggles with self-doubt and fear. Everyone feels, at times, like a fraud. We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

We were made for connection. We were built for community — for conversation, for touch, for shared purpose. Every time we reach out, every act of courage and compassion punches a hole in the wall of isolation.

You’re not alone

If you’re feeling alone, know this: You are not invisible. You are seen. You matter. And if you’re not struggling, someone you know is. It’s your responsibility to reach out.

Loneliness is not proof of brokenness. It is proof of humanity. It is a call to engage, to bear witness, to connect. The world is different because of the people who choose to act. It is brighter when we refuse to be isolated.

We cannot let silence win. We cannot allow loneliness to dictate our lives. Speak. Reach out. Connect. Share your gifts. By doing so, we remind one another: We are all alike, and yet each of us matters profoundly.

In this moment, in this country, in this world, what we do matters. Loneliness is real, but so is hope. And hope begins with connection.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.