“The average American works at a job he hates, to earn money he doesn’t need, to buy things he doesn’t want, to impress people he doesn’t like.” Or, as Harvard social scientist Arthur C. Brooks writes in The Atlantic (here), “Life is just a rat race, and we’re doomed to an existence of dissatisfaction. That sucks.”
I first heard this aphorism in college many years ago. It’s stuck with me all these years because it rings true. We live in a money-mad society. Probably no people on earth are more acquisitive (and successful at it) than we are. Yet, most Americans aren’t rich, are in debt, and under financial stress — regardless of how much they earn.
Don’t misunderstand me. Millions of Americans are financially stressed simply because many U.S. jobs don’t pay enough to cover basic expenses. Ours is a society and economy characterized by enormous disparities of wealth and income. How hard people work doesn’t seem to have much to do with it. Some of the most demanding and unpleasant jobs are also the lowest-paying.
(That has a lot to do with the “Great Resignation,” which Vox says would more aptly be called the “Great Reshuffling,” as workers aren’t leaving the workforce so much as ditching bad jobs for better ones; read that article here.)
But it’s a fact that a lot of people in good-paying jobs hate or at least dislike their work, but stay for the money and the lifestyle it buys. But how much money do you really need? Once you get above a certain income, which is not all that high and certainly within reach of many people, spending not income causes most financial problems and stress. We’re not so much a money-mad society as a madly-spending society, as the aphorism suggests.
Which is where Brooks’ article, linked above, enters the picture. He observes that “time and again, I have fallen into the trap of believing that success and its accompaniments would fulfill me.” Amen to that. As someone who’s now retired, I have this to say about ambition, career, and work: I don’t miss it a damn bit. But as he notes, “Getting off the treadmill is hard. It feels dangerous.” I agree. I even looked for another job after retiring, thinking (mistakenly) that rejoining the rat race would assuage the feeling of uselessness that retirement brought. I’d forgotten that I always felt that way when working, too.
Brooks says, “Your goals are probably very different from mine [he’s a writer and academic], and perhaps your lifestyle is too. But the trap is the same. Everyone has dreams, and they beckon with promises of sweet, lasting satisfaction if you achieve them. But dreams are liars. … No matter how fast we run, we never arrive.” In other words, the more you have, the more you want. (You’ve heard this one, too. But just because something is trite doesn’t mean it isn’t true.)
He proceeds to write something that reads like a lot of psychoanalysis, with some Buddhism thrown in. Go read his article, if you want the nuts and bolts; there’s no need, nor have I the inclination, to reproduce his instruction manual here.
Some years ago, I picked up a book at an airport newsstand for something to read between flights, called The Millionaire Next Door. (It’s still in print, and cheap, you can get a fresh copy for under 10 bucks here.) This isn’t a how-to book. It’s based on the research findings of a pair of social scientists; and what they found is that roughly half of America’s millionaires are unrecognizable from their neighbors. They live in modest houses, drive old cars, and eschew the trappings of wealth.
They also discovered that many people with flashy lifestyles are near-broke (or actually broke). These people make a lot of money, otherwise they couldn’t make the payments on their big houses and expensive cars, but they’re spending everything they earn and not accumulating anything, so they don’t have much (if anything) they can really call their own. They’re tenants of lenders.
The “millionaires next door” described in the book are the opposite. They spend what they must, and save the rest. They can (and do) distinguish between “needs” and “wants.” This lifestyle isn’t for everyone, and doesn’t work for insecure people with weak egos who must show off to have a sense of self-worth. You must be the sort of person who’s comfortable blending in and doesn’t feel a need to prove anything to anyone.
If that works for you, the payoff is a comfortable life, free of stress and worry, beholden to no one. Not enslaved to a job you hate, or a boss you don’t like (or fear), or worry over bills. If that’s for you, get the book and read Brooks’ article.
I’ll leave you with a couple of stories.
Jack MacDonald was a Seattle lawyer who worked for the V.A. for more than 30 years. “MacDonald lived frugally, wore threadbare clothes, rode the bus to work and collected coupons to increase savings,” according to JD Journal (here). He inherited some money, but instead of spending it, he invested it and it grew and grew. Jack outlived three wives, and had no children or heirs; when he died, he left $188 million to three charities: Seattle Children’s Hospital, the University of Washington Law School (his alma mater), and the Salvation Army. Here was a guy who could afford anything, but had no need for the fancy things that big money can buy. He did have a ton of financial security, and apparently a job he liked.
I just finished reading a book (used copies starting at 35 cents are available here) about the life of Milton S. Hershey, who also died without heirs. (He and his wife were childless, and she died young.) Long before he was old, he gave his fortune to a trust (now worth ~$13.75 billion) to support a school he established for impoverished orphans to give them an education and a shot at a decent life. (Milton had known a childhood of struggle, and could relate.) He lived well, but not lavishly, and having given everything away before his death, spent his final years in a sparely furnished two-room apartment, not wanting for anything he needed, but not wanting anything he didn’t need.
The point is, here were a couple of guys who had all the money anyone could want, but weren’t big spenders. They either learned, or instinctively realized, that “money can’t buy happiness.” (It doesn’t buy love, either, according to the Beatles. It does, however, provide freedom from financial stress and worry.) They found other ways to be happy; MacDonald and Hershey both found it in work and charity toward their fellow man.
Most people won’t acquire such fortunes. Probably no reader of this blog will. But a reasonably comfortable life, free of financial stress, is within reach of a great many people. In most cases, the limiting factor isn’t income, but spending habits, which are a product of the social psychology we fall prey to. The advertising and social pressures that artificially create wants in our consumer-oriented society are not your friends. To win against those pernicious forces, you must be strong and train yourself in the art of resistance. It can be done.
If you’re interested, get the Millionaire Next Door book, and read Brooks’ article. Patience and persistence are key; achieving financial security on an ordinary income takes time. It also requires departing from the attitudes and behaviors prevalent in our society. But it’s certainly doable for folks of average income and means, if they have the will to do it.