The Confusing Correlation Between
Wealth and Happiness
We’ve all heard people proclaim their feat of quitting things like coffee, cigarettes, alcohol, prescription drugs, marijuana, cocaine, crystal meth, crack, and heroin; but do we ever hear anyone boasting about their ability to quit money? Surely, the vast majority of people in this country wouldn't give the idea of quitting money an iota of thought. But recently, a homeless man in DC opened my eyes to this curious notion and how it might make some sense after all.
Here in DC, the site of a homeless person is not uncommon. On a daily basis, I find myself in a situation where I am forced to make the following decision: either reach into my pocket for some extra change or continue on my way. While people often struggle with this decision, it's natural, especially here in DC, to create a set of unspoken (and perhaps subconscious) morals surrounding this decision. In other words, we know how we’re going to act before we're even presented with the decision. Some of us never even consider giving away our spare change, some of us ocassionally find it in our hearts to give a little, and some of us frequently reach into our pockets. But I’ve never met anyone more generous in this regard than my friend, Mr. Nice Guy.
Mr. Nice Guy has been known to give inordinate amounts of money to people for seemingly no reason at all. While this may seem crazy to some of us, he rationalizes it by saying things like, “They need it more than I do,” or, “I make too much money anyway.” Okay, Mr. Nice Guy.
Recently, Mr. Nice Guy walked up to a homeless man reading the newspaper on 20th street in Northwest DC and offered him a dollar - a nice gesture by all accounts, but a routine move for Mr. Nice Guy. The response he got from this homeless man was one of the most surprising statements I’ve heard in my 23 years. “No thanks,” he said. “I quit using money.” Never before had this happened to Mr. Nice Guy. “Are you sure?” Mr. Nice Guy asked the homeless man. “Yes,” he nodded, as he continued reading the newspaper.
So, how does a homeless man refuse money? And what in the world is the logic behind quitting money?
My dad used to tell me, among other economic jabber, that money is like a drug: the more you have, the more you want. Growing up, I never really gave much credence to this theory. When people used to ask me the timeless question: "What do you want be when you grow up?", I would say, “Rich,” thinking that as long as I had lots and lots of money, I would be happy. Simply put, I always associated wealth with happiness. At about the age of 16, my response to this question changed from “Rich” to “Happy.”
I’m not sure exactly what led to my conclusion that wealth and happiness were two very distinct notions; it was likely a combination of things. 16 was about the age that I began to appreciate the value of money. I had a job, a car, and inevitably, the urge to go out with my friends. Life as I knew it was over; I was no longer a child and my responsibilities were only growing. With my newfound respect for the value of money came some natural observations. For example, I remember wondering why the kids who drove the fanciest cars in high school were not noticeably happier than everyone else. Shouldn’t they be outwardly rejoicing the fact that they had more money to spend, I thought? Why were the kids who drove the junkiest cars (or no car at all, if you can believe that), at times smiling more often and bigger than those who drove the fancy cars? These and other similar observations made me question my conviction that wealth leads to happiness. Then I went to college, where this phenomenon was illustrated ten-fold.
What does this have to do with the homeless man’s refusal to accept cash from Mr. Nice Guy and his remarkable statement about “quitting money?” Well, in order to "quit" using money, one must have at some point used money. Perhaps this homeless man's experience using money was simply not what he was hoping for. Perhaps he was perceptive enough to recognize (and admit) that money, instead of making him happy, only caused him distress. This is certainly a difficult realization to make; after all, we're indoctrinated from a young age that money is a good thing. We see this on television, in commercials, in the movies, in magazines, and in the mall. And the assertion that money is a good thing is quite easily defensible. To be functional contributors in our society, we need money.
But what if our intention is not to be functional contributors to society? What if our intention is much simpler: to be happy? What purpose does money serve in that case? If our goal is simply to be happy, perhaps money could be eliminated altogether.
I know what you're thinking: how does one survive without money? Survival, in its most basic sense, requires only food, water, and shelter. I have witnessed homeless people in DC offer assistance to street vendors in exchange for food, thus satisfying their most basic need. That’s right, food, not money. This type of barter successfully eliminates the use of money for basic subsistence purposes, and while it does not allow one to function in a manner familiar to us, who are we to suggest that this way of life does not allow for happiness?
So while we all long to win the lottery or wait anxiously for our next raise or squabble over how much the tooth fairy did or didn’t leave us, are we doing so because we think this additional money will make us happier or simply because we are addicted to it? Why are we so convinced that all our problems will wash away with a few more dollars in the bank?
I don’t realistically expect anyone to suddenly think that money is evil and that we should all strive to eliminate it; however, there is a message here. We each have our own definition of happiness, but differences aside, happineess is always a state of being, an emotion. Various forces in our society have caused us to associate an increase in wealth with an increase in happiness. While it is undeniable that money can ease some of life’s burdens, Mr. Nice Guy and the homeless man provide us with two distinct yet unique perspectives on money that may help us better define our happiness.
i see forward, backward, and sideways,
i see forward, backward, and sideways,
