One of the best things I’ve read this week is Ben Casnocha’s blog post titled “The Goldilocks Theory of Being Rich” on what it means to be rich. In the post, Ben correctly posits that today there’s a very small difference between the rich and the American middle class in terms of quality of life. In the post, Ben differentiates among affluent, rich, and the super-rich…
The actual best part about being super rich, as far as I can tell, is this: You’re more likely to feel like you led a life of meaning. You might not be happy all the time or most of the time, but you will feel like your time on this earth counted for something. One way to distinguish happiness from meaning is that happiness is the day to day bounce of emotions while meaning is what you feel when you step back, take a minute, and reflect on what will go in your obituary. (Here’s my post on meaning vs. happiness.)
How so? The feeling of meaning and making a difference manifests in real, concrete ways. Someone like Meg Whitman can walk the HP campus and see thousands of employees who support their families thanks to employment at HP; she can read stories about the millions of people who use HP products every day to be better at their job. That imbues her life with a sense that her life matters. If you don’t have a corporate campus to walk around—if, for example, you’re an options trader and not a builder of things—fear not. With a supple bank account, you can still take actions that generate meaning. Write big checks to charity and you’ll get thank you notes from the children at the public school you helped. You’ll get enough feel-good ooze from your charitable giving to last you a lifetime. Entrepreneur and billionaire Marc Benioff has said, “Nothing is going to make you feel better. Philanthropy is absolutely the best drug I’ve ever taken.”
I liked this analogy posited by Tim O’Reilly:
…money is like gasoline while driving. You never want to run out, but the point of life is not to go on a tour of gas stations.
The distinction between affluent, rich, and super-rich:
Maybe wealth needs its own Goldilocks porridge story: you want not too much, not too little. And I think that ideal middle ground is the “Rich” category in the hierarchy I opened with. More crudely, this ideal amount of money is termed “fuck-you money.” With fuck you money, you can’t fly around the world on a private jet (so you’re not as rich as the Super Rich) but do you have the power to say fuck you to essentially anyone or anything that doesn’t interest you (which means you’re richer than the merely affluent).
Put another way, if you work on stuff that doesn’t excite you for more than one day a week, in my estimation you do not have fuck-you money. You’re still working for the man. At the other end of the spectrum, if you find yourself being invited to more than a few charity galas a year, worrying about physical and cyber security at your home, and asking a PR person to review your public statements, you have a lot more than fuck-you money and all the corresponding drawbacks.
Definitely worth reading this thought-provoking post in its entirety.