The Curse of Never Having Enough
In a poem published in The New Yorker in 2005, Kurt Vonnegut recalled attending a billionaire's party on Shelter Island with fellow novelist Joseph Heller. Vonnegut remarked that their host might have earned more in a single day than Heller had earned from his celebrated novel Catch-22 over its entire history.
Heller's response was as simple as it was profound: He knew what it meant to have enough.
In my industry, one thing I see time and time again is the curse of never having enough. It often reveals itself when discussing the "why" behind someone's investment decisions. I've always found it psychologically fascinating how someone who has accumulated more wealth than most people could ever dream of having can still find themselves worrying about a couple of bucks.
Why is that? How can someone be so financially secure that even their great-grandchildren could retire comfortably, yet still lose sleep over relatively insignificant fluctuations in the value of their investments? At what point does the pursuit of wealth stop being about financial security and start becoming something else entirely?
Of course, there's nothing inherently wrong with wanting to grow your wealth. Great wealth can be a beautiful thing when ordered toward the common good. There's a difference between intentionally pursuing a financial goal and being incapable of ever finding satisfaction in your success.
In Luke 12:13–21, Jesus tells the parable of the rich fool. When a man asks Jesus to intervene in an inheritance dispute, Jesus instead warns against greed. He tells the story of a wealthy man who, having accumulated more than he could possibly need, decides to build larger barns to store his abundance. Convinced that his possessions have secured his future, he gives little thought to what lies beyond them. That very night, however, his life comes to an end. All his accumulated wealth cannot save him.
I've witnessed firsthand the good that can come from an overflowing cup, when those blessed with an abundance of resources use their wealth to uplift the lives of others experiencing misfortune or financial insecurity. I see it all the time with my clients when they:
Establish comprehensive financial plans to protect their families and provide long-term security.
Fund the education of future generations.
Help their children establish themselves, whether through purchasing a first home or providing financial assistance during difficult times.
Establish trusts to provide lifelong care for loved ones with disabilities.
Make extraordinary philanthropic contributions to organizations serving the poor, sick, and marginalized.
Money aligned with a transcendent purpose or goal is incredibly powerful, and I spend much of my professional life helping people do exactly that.
One of the most meaningful things about working in wealth management is seeing what generosity can accomplish. Sometimes, the greatest value of someone's wealth has little to do with the things it allows them to purchase for themselves. It comes from the opportunities it creates to express gratitude, honor loved ones, or support communities that have made a difference in their lives.
Consider the impact that a small church community can have when it rallies around a family experiencing tremendous hardship. The comfort they provide, the kindness they extend, and the dignity they help preserve cannot possibly be measured in dollars. Yet the financial generosity of those blessed with considerable resources can help sustain these communities and allow them to continue serving others.
At my parish, Christ the King in Tampa, there's a Thursday evening gathering called Fraternus, where boys and men of different ages and backgrounds come together for mentorship and brotherhood. At one of our meetings, a gentleman said something to me that I found incredibly profound. He pointed out that wealthy individuals spend considerable time planning how to pass their most valuable assets down to the next generation. Yet perhaps the most valuable asset an older man possesses is something that cannot be transferred through an estate: his wisdom. Unlike money, property, or investments, wisdom cannot simply be left to someone as an inheritance. It must be shared, taught, and passed on through relationships.
Wow. That was a reality check for me, and it really put things into perspective.
This ministry is made possible through the generosity of Sages (in Fraternus, this is the fraternal title for an older gentleman) who believe in its mission and recognize the importance of investing in the next generation. I find something particularly beautiful about that. These men have accumulated resources over the course of their lives and are now drawing from them to share something money alone cannot provide. In a world plagued by loneliness a sense of belonging. During confusing times, guidance by those filled with wisdom. At a time when many relationships are shallow and superficial, meaningful relationships between generations.
This is what wealth can accomplish when it serves something greater than ourselves.
Unfortunately, I've also come to appreciate the other side of wealth.
One of the more difficult lessons I've learned working in finance is that not everyone has a healthy relationship with money. I've encountered people who have accumulated extraordinary wealth but seem incapable of finding any peace in it. For some, even the slightest financial setback can provoke an emotional response completely disproportionate to its actual consequences. It's almost as though the more they accumulate, the more terrified they become of losing any little piece of it.
Now, I don't necessarily believe that fear of loss makes someone greedy. Fear and greed are not the same thing, although I suspect they sometimes originate from the same underlying problem: insecurity and an unhealthy attachment to material possessions.
My experiences working in wealth management have also fundamentally changed the way I evaluate the people I surround myself with. When I first entered the industry, I naively assumed that someone who had worked hard enough to accumulate considerable wealth would naturally appreciate the value of patience, perspective, and personal responsibility.
Boy, was I wrong.
I've since come to appreciate that financial success and personal character are two entirely different things. Some of the wealthiest people I've encountered have also been among the most generous and thoughtful. Others have taught me that material success doesn't necessarily translate into wisdom, contentment, or integrity.
Wealth can tell you a great deal about someone's financial circumstances, but very little about their character. And no amount of money can compensate for a lack of integrity.
Ultimately, the lesson I've learned, and one I believe is worth sharing, is this: The quality of someone's character is far more important than the size of their balance sheet.
I think back to Joseph Heller's response to Kurt Vonnegut. Perhaps the greatest measure of wealth isn't how much we manage to accumulate over the course of our lives, but whether we ever arrive at a point where we can look at what we have and say, with genuine gratitude, that it is enough.
I'm Enzo Cespedes-Correa, a financial advisor based in Tampa, Florida, with an interest in the intersection of finance and technology. You can learn more about me on my About page or read my other article on The Human Cost of Artificial Intelligence
