The Curious Case of Money as a Value

Recently, at a transformational training, when we, as a group, were listing values, I found myself conflicted when money made the list. Admittedly, I wasn’t the only one. Can money truly be a value or is it more of an instrument to (or even a consequence of) other values? Does making money a value lead to eventual corrosion of other values? Why do I feel better when money is replaced with “financial security” even though in essence, it’s the same thing?

As I reflected on these questions, I realized that my social circles in recent years have been relatively balanced between people who considered money a value, and those who thought that placing money next to family, spirituality, and love is almost morally wrong. The curious thing is, of course, that a lot of people from the second camp are people in a position of financial prosperity who have gained such financial freedom that they now can afford to scoff at money and sing praises to spirituality and other matters. I’m tempted to say that maybe hypocrisy is a real threat there, but maybe it’s just a rite of passage that climaxes in a natural preference change. Another curious thing about this second camp is that a number of people there argue against the value of money on principle alone - they reject consumerism (and to an extent capitalism) to such an extent that money and its pursuit are vilified and undignified. I believe this instills a certain degree of internal conflict because no matter what they say, few people would reject being well-off financially, if given a choice/chance.

For my part, I’ve long since viewed money as an instrument, a means of support and provision for other values - health, hobby/self-expression, professional self-realization, travel, and yes, family and even happiness too - after all, financial scarcity is a large contributor to all sorts of other problems, including depression and familial conflicts. At the same time, I’ve also held a conviction, which is generally supported by various research on the correlation between financial prosperity and happiness as well as hedonic adaptation, that the money vs happiness graph follows a concave distribution curve - specifically, the law of diminishing returns - meaning that after a certain point, an increase in money will lead to a smaller increase in happiness, up until it doesn’t add anything at all. And this is why a lot of people with financial security move away from valuing money - the marginal utility from adding wealth has become inconsequential for them.

So, to an extent, I do think that making money a value in and of itself can undermine the values that it’s supposed to be in service of. At the same time, if I were money, I wouldn’t want to be around people who don’t value me - yes, it’s a very illogical point, but hey, I still made it. What I mean to say is that values tend to inform priorities and highlight identities, and maybe sometimes money needs to be valued enough to be prioritized. Values and their hierarchy aren’t fixed in stone. We tend to value different things in different seasons of life, or rather our hierarchy of values tends to shift around. There’s actually little wrong with valuing money and what it provides. But the very unwillingness to look at it as a value is quite revealing. How many of us unconsciously nod our heads when someone says “Money is the root of all evil” or “Money doesn’t bring happiness” or “Rich people are greedy, shallow, and immoral” or whatever else? What does that say about our subconscious beliefs and especially fears? How much unconscious self-sabotage might be at play for someone trying to build a business while looking down at the financial aspect of it? While not allowing oneself to want a nice house or an apartment because wanting such things and being willing to pay “those exorbitant prices” for them is preposterous and contradicts one’s moral stance?

Remember that second camp of money-as-a-value rejectors I mentioned earlier? It also contains people who look down at those motivated by financial gains because they believe money represents lower values (as opposed to such higher values as spirituality and living one’s purpose). And no, they would never admit to looking down at someone - instead, they would use phrases such as “she’s still motivated by earning money - I need someone more mature” or “someday he’ll understand that there are more important things than money” - and it’s not about those phrases being untrue but rather that they betray an inflated perception of oneself on the mere ground of value disagreement. I just don’t believe that there are higher and lower values - the idea is man-made (well, along with the entire value discourse) and is often abused for self-elevation.

As a coach, I seek to clarify what my client means by something because the meaning I might put into the value of money is likely going to be very different from someone else’s. So, of course, valuing money can actually be more about security, travel, comfort, certainty, etc. But sometimes, by seeking more clarity we end up substituting terms and losing sight of what’s still important. I suppose in the end, I don’t object to valuing money - I just object to absolutizing it. Money isn’t inherently a value or not a value - it’s more about whether (and then why) we resist calling it one, and what that reveals about us.

Sidenote: I’m trying to work on shorter essays, so bear with me while I’m figuring out how to make them complete and still concise.