Money, Value and Happiness

“The love of money is the root of all evil.” (1 Timothy, Chapter 6, Verse 10)

You’ve probably heard that misquoted a fair few times as “money is the root of all evil.” But money itself is neutral. It’s our attitudes towards it which can be good or evil.

I don’t think evil is too strong a word, here. People do some terrible things for money. Of course, there are some extreme cases we can easily distance ourselves from – third world dictators, criminal gangs – but there are also the subtler evils that are caused by a love of money for its own sake. Working excessive hours, not for any love of the job, but for money. Producing shoddy, overpriced products and hard-selling them to unsuspecting consumers. Bonuses for bankers while millions go jobless.

Money isn’t something to be accumulated for the sake of it. Money is a tool we use: not only to get more out of life, but to make an active contribution in the world – to make other people’s lives better too.

It’s hard not to fetishise money. We live in capitalist societies, where money and the market are seen as unquestionably good. (Not by everyone, no, but certainly by most of the people who influence media and politics.) Advertisers convince us that we’ll achieve joy by buying stuff. Peers judge us on our income levels, the size of our house.

How Rich We Really Are

On a global scale we are incredibly, almost unimaginably, rich. We have clean water, plenty of food, indoor plumbing, furniture, health care, roads, cars, education, computers. When I went to Madagascar a few years ago with my family, to see the work of MAF (a charity my parents support), we saw villages which didn’t even have clean drinking water.

Perhaps it’s human nature to never be satisfied. Perhaps that desire for more is part of what makes us who we are – growing, learning, striving. But in the case of money, it can so often seem misdirected.

Should You Choose You Friends Based on Income?

I read a lot of blogs about freelancing, personal development and entrepreneurialism. One rather disturbing topic I see coming up from time to time is this: that since “you are the average of the five people you spend most time with” (Jim Rohn), you should hang out with people earning more than you currently are.

I find this troubling. Firstly, I’m not convinced it necessarily holds true. (It doesn’t for me, though that may be because I have several different groups of friends and contacts: my college friends don’t overlap with my church friends, for instance.)

Secondly, it implies that all you could want from the people close to you is them to be high earners. Few writers seem to suggest that, if you really want to grow as a person, you might like to try hanging out with people who don’t spend much but who are still happy.

Trent Hamm, someone with completely the right attitude to money (in my opinion), writes:

Five years ago, almost all of my closest friends spent money like it was water. They were constantly doing things like playing poker, pushing each other to “one up” the rest with better gadgets and other material things, going out for drinks all the time, making fun of each other for looking less affluent, and so on. To put it simply, if you didn’t show many signs of material affluence, you were made fun of and ridiculed.You felt like less of a person if you weren’t spending money hand over fist.

(Trent Hamm, A Reflection of Your Closest Friends, The Simple Dollar)

If you’re looking to improve your financial situation – or to adjust your priorities – then rather than trying to hang out with folk making tons of money, find people who don’t judge based on income levels.

“Success” doesn’t mean “rich”. You get to set your own definition of what counts as “success” for you. It might mean having the time and the love to help others. It might mean being healthy. It might mean creating something which will outlive you.

Value Precedes Money

Wednesdays are the teaching day for my MA course, so I was in college. In the morning, I workshopped a scene of my novel with a small group of fellow students (and, after a year and a half, good friends). In the afternoon, we had class. As usual on a Wednesday, I felt enthused and invigorated about my creative writing, keen to press on with redrafting the novel.

Often, I feel torn between two worlds: the creative writers I know in college, and the bloggers I know online. I’ve been re-listening to modules in Dave Navarro’s Becoming an Early Riser (reveiewed here), and I’m struck how often he mentions money as a motivation: getting up early to make more money; getting up early to get into the office before everyone else and chase a promotion; getting up early to work on a side business.

(I like Dave a lot, and I don’t think he’s money-obsessed. I think it’s just a signal of how our culture tends to focus on money when we should be looking for meaning and fulfillment.)

I’m not making any money from my fiction. I’d like to, one day, but I know it’ll take a lot of hours and a lot of work – I’ve cut huge swaths of the first draft, written in dozens of new scenes. The writing that I make money from is much easier. And, because it pays, it’s also easier to see the value of it.

It’s not so very hard for me to say “I’m busy, I need to get my paid blogging done today to pay the rent” or even “I’m busy, I’m working on an ebook to launch so I can pay for my hotel room for SXSW”. It’s a whole lot harder to say “I’m writing a novel.” I know most people just won’t get it. I know most people don’t read novels, let alone write them.

Yet, it matters to me. Even if no-one except me, my tutor and a few dedicated friends read this novel, the telling of it – and the growing that I do in the process, as a writer, and as a person – is meaningful, and valuable.

If my focus was on money, writing a novel would be a ridiculous decision: I know how bleak the statistics are on aspiring verses published novelists. I know how very few novelists make a full time income from their work. But that’s not the point.

My life is richer, happier and more meaningful because I write fiction. It has value to me, and that value comes before any money I might one day make from it.

What Do You Really Want?

Money is not an end in itself. In How to be Rich and Happy (reviewed here), Tim Brownson and John P. Strelecky define being rich and happy as “being able to do what you want, whenever you want.”

So, okay, having a lot of money might help with a few of your wants. But chances are, what you genuinely want to do will also include things like:

• Spending time with your kids, parents, or friends
• Learning something new that fascinates you
• Going to the cinema, reading a good book, watching a favourite TV show
• Finding your life partner (or, if you’ve found ‘em already, spending quality time with them!)
• Eating good food
• Lounging around in your pyjamas all day
• Creating something which people love

Although having some money spare will help with some of those, it’s not the biggest factor. You might find, when you dig deep, that what you really want is more time – not more money.

Money isn’t evil. I’d like to have enough of it that I’d never have to worry about the bills. I want to be able to give significant amounts to charity. I want to homeschool my kids. I want to have the money to support Paul so that he can do the work he’s called towards (political theory and research, not generally high paying!)

I don’t want money for its own sake. I don’t want a fancy watch – the one I currently have tells the time perfectly well. I don’t want designer clothes, or expensive bottles of wine, or swanky meals out: I know those things wouldn’t make me happier, and they wouldn’t make the world a better place either.

I’d challenge you to question some of the assumptions that are around us. Are you striving to make more money? How much income is enough to let you do the things you genuinely want? Can you find value in activities which don’t pay?

(If money is a particular issue for you right now, grab my free ebook on More For Your Money: it’s a short guide to making the most of what you have, and spending on what matters to you.)