Money, money, money, is it funny, to live in the rich man’s world?
It feels strange to me that every time people talk about money, huge salaries, and luxurious lives, I get the impression of being in hostile territory, a world that feels alien to me and doesn’t belong to me.
And yet, it’s obvious that it can’t really be like that.
To live in the modern age, money is an indispensable tool.
Of course, there are exceptions, probably few enough to count on one hand, people who have chosen to live isolated from others and, thanks to this bold choice, have no use for money.
But I don’t want to make an absolute argument here, rather a general one.
For the same reason, I don’t want to dwell unnecessarily on analyzing why all modern economies use some form of token, i.e., money, to function.
One could consider the advantages this approach has over others, like barter, or the historical reasons behind a choice that seems almost mandatory for the efficient functioning of any exchange-based economy.
But I’m not an expert in the subject, and more importantly, it would distract from the point I want to dissect.
Why are we obsessed with money?
I don’t think I’m saying anything particularly controversial by stating that we spend a good portion of our lives thinking about money.
From when we are children, dependent on our parents to buy us the toy we so badly want, to when, having gained a degree of financial independence, we are finally free to use the wealth we own as we prefer.
But money is more than just “a simple means to satisfy one’s needs”: it is a status symbol, a source of motivation, a goal to achieve and celebrate, the source of happiness.
To simplify as much as possible, I think there are two main functions that justify the importance of money in our society:
- Money as a means of subsistence;
- Money as a means of validation.
The first is fairly self-explanatory.
To live a decent life, one needs a certain amount of money.
Moreover, there is a clear correlation between available funds and the standard of living one can maintain.
The second reason is more subtle, but just as important.
Fame, power, skill, and ability are often seen as synonymous with substantial wealth.
It’s not difficult for the connection between these (and other) qualities and a full wallet to take root in our minds.
But is all of this really true?
Is money really something so indispensable?
Are we giving money too much power over our lives?
And if not, why can’t I align myself with the way most people seem to think?
Money is trash
Even though the title of this section is clearly hyperbolic, I want to try to explain (first of all to myself) why I struggle to give money the importance it may deserve, and who knows, maybe influence someone else with my ideas.
Apples and oranges
My experience as a student has been, without false modesty, a success.
There have been few times when an exam has seriously challenged me, and I certainly cannot say I’m dissatisfied with the vast majority of the grades I’ve received.
Reasonably, the conclusion that many classmates, colleagues, and even professors reached was: “this student must be very well prepared.”
Unfortunately, they didn’t consider a crucial factor: actual knowledge and skills in the subject of an exam do not necessarily correspond to the result of said exam.
Those who find ways to cheat by copying or using more sophisticated tricks without getting caught know this very well.
There is undoubtedly a strong correlation between grades obtained and actual preparation for an honest student, and within the limits of a school or university, exams remain the only way to estimate a student’s efforts.
Still, it’s important to remember that we are dealing with two different things.
In other words, being good at taking exams, something I’m particularly skilled at, does not always coincide with being knowledgeable about the subject.
Unfortunately, this also means that very capable students may be heavily penalized by a system that is unable to evaluate them on their true merits.
I’ve seen this happen more than once.
It’s easy to see how the same concepts applies to wealth.
While an enterprising and visionary mindset, combined with a good dose of ability, certainly helps one get rich, this is far from the only path, and perhaps not even the most common.
The ability to sell oneself and one’s ideas is perhaps the skill that carries the greatest weight when it comes to determining someone’s financial success, often overshadowing the absence of other competencies entirely.
As for me, substance has always been much more important than presentation, and unfortunately I struggle to accept a reality in which the opposite is often true.
The only thing I do is feel great respect for those who truly deserve it, regardless of their bank account, which is hardly a factor worth considering.
Comfortable living
The definition of a comfortable life varies greatly from person to person.
Some dream of always traveling first class, others are obsessed with luxury goods, some have many indulgences they’d like to enjoy, others have long-held dreams to fulfill, and some have no real use for money at all.
As you might guess, I believe I fall into the latter category.
Comparing myself with some colleagues, I discovered that my expenses are decidedly below average.
Aside from going out with friends, which happens roughly weekly, my spending is limited to what is necessary for survival.
Not that this is always a good thing: a gym membership would certainly benefit my sedentary body, and the same goes for buying higher-quality food.
However, in general, I don’t feel urges that make me desire things I don’t already own.
Perhaps the most tempting expense would be buying a powerful new computer to replace my aging laptop and desktop, both nearing 10 years from the day they were bought.
But even though I can afford it, and despite having a valid justification given my work/passion as a programmer, I find myself held back by the realization that, in the end, it’s not really necessary.
To avoid giving the wrong impression, I want to clarify something important: I don’t live frugally out of deliberate choice, but as a natural consequence of having few material desires.
At the same time, my rather indifferent attitude toward money means that I often handle and spend it almost without noticing.
As long as I have the means and I’m convinced something is useful, price is a factor I barely consider.
Even the many techniques (more or less legal) to save money on purchases often seem like an effort greater than the savings they would bring.
I can’t teach anyone how to achieve this double-edged apathy, but one mental exercise I recommend, especially when faced with situations clearly designed to entice consumers, like limited-time discounts, is to ask yourself: “If it weren’t discounted, would I buy it?”
This simple question has often helped me realize that, in most cases, we are attracted more by the prospect of getting a good deal than by the object itself.
Pressure cooker
While for many people receiving payment for their work is a source of pride, a sign of respect and recognition, I struggle not to see it as an insidious golden cage that threatens my cherished freedom.
Being paid, whether by a company or directly by clients, in my somewhat warped imagination means having to live up to the expectations of whoever is paying.
Taking on long-term responsibilities has always been something I struggle with, and this is just another manifestation of the same idea.
If I had the possibility, I would much rather not have to answer to anyone in order to survive, and simply receive appreciation from those who find my creations valuable, without expecting anything in return.
Intrinsic value
Trying to get rich is often seen as a self-sufficient goal. I believe this is due to the following chain of reasoning:
- Being rich means being successful
- Being successful is typical of capable/competent people
- Capable/competent people deserve respect/admiration
Leaving aside the fact that the first two statements are not necessarely true, I think my perspective differs because I care little for external validation.
With an approach that could fairly be described as egocentric, the only opinion I cannot do without is my own.
I am always extremely open to criticism, which is undoubtedly a powerful tool for self-improvement, preventing us from getting stuck in a local optimum that appears to be the only possible path due to our limited perspective.
However, at the end of the day, after evaluating everything and listening to all opinions, the only one that truly matters is mine.
But if I don’t feel the need to prove anything to anyone, and I am personally satisfied with what I have achieved, what benefit would becoming rich bring me?
From this point of view, I can think of none.
Conclusion
Money is quite useful, but you can’t eat it, it doesn’t keep you company, it doesn’t congratulate you, it isn’t fun, and it doesn’t make you coffee.
Maybe in the next version they’ll add all those features.
Money alone does not bring happiness.
Nothing grows from diamons, flowers grow from manure.
Money may not buy you happiness but it makes your misery a hell of a lot more comfortable.