So, with Housel, we are back to the unique nature of money (and wealth) as a source of invisible value. We can see the medical diploma on the wall of our doctor’s office, but not a statement of total bank deposits and stock holdings on the wall of our therapist—or even our financial advisor. We would never pin a $100 bill on our shirt or hang it out of our coat pocket. We would never ask someone at a birthday celebration about how much money they earned last year, just as we wouldn’t ask them about the last time they made love to their wife. Money is different because it is kept in the shadows—and often operates in a shadowy way—as I noted in one of the other essays in this series.
Anticipatory
There is another way in which money differs from most other entities. This difference resides in the impact of money on our neurochemical and hormonal system. We produce a squirt of dopamine when someone we love walks into the room or when we witness a beautiful sunset. For some of us, dopamine is produced when we hear a Beethoven string quartet; for others, it is hearing a big brass band or a spirited hip hop group. There is no direct effect when it comes to money.
Behavioral scientists have even found that we don’t get the hit of dopamine in a gambling casino when we hit the jackpot. Rather, we get this hit when we enter the casino and Anticipate earning a jackpot. Gambling is addictive precisely because the biochemical reward comes before winning a prize – and comes even if we don’t win the financial prize. Money is unique in that it is rewarding in anticipation rather than in achievement.
We envision diving into McDuck’s mound of money and getting a kick. The actual mound of McDuck’s coins would no doubt afford little comfort for someone diving in. If the coins were converted to paper currency, the mound would probably be a bit smelly (if composed of old, used bills) or overbearing (if made up of newly minted bills). The money would also not be very soft or supportive of the dive. It’s all about anticipation rather than reward—even for Mr. McDuck.
Money as an Extension of Self
Walt Disney might have captured something important about the nature of money in contemporary life. It seems that Scrooge McDuck (like his namesake, Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol) has fully absorbed money as part of his sense of self. These two Scrooges were not alone in considering their wealth to be a defining aspect of their identity in the world. We find many people in contemporary American society who are initially enamored with money.
Their infatuation with the prospect of becoming rich soon becomes much more intimate. They begin to identify money as an important part of their sense of self. Their roles as spouse and parent, ethical businessman or businesswoman, dutiful citizen, and guardian of the environment become less important or are set aside on behalf of monetary prosperity.
This extension of self to incorporate money may be engaged so that our “self” lives on even after our death. Money becomes a key element in our legacy. Scrooge McDuck invites his nephews to join him in diving through the mountain of coins. Someday, they might inherit these coins. Scrooge believes that they will be beholding to him for this “generosity.”
Alternatively, money can become an important part of our sense of self because we want to be “bigger in life.” As narcissists, we wish to initiate a “grandiose” expansion of self. Accumulated wealth can expedite this expansion. We become rich and gain a new sense of our personal value. McDuck’s pile of cash swells in size. He can take great delight in showing this accumulated cash not just to his nephews, but also to other characters in Walt Disney’s world.
