In his book on The Psychology of Money, Morgan Housel (2020, p 86) offers the often reported and always disturbing state of American society as related to wealth and happiness:
“The United States is the richest nation in the history of the world. But there is little evidence that its citizens are, on average, happier today than they were in the 1950s, when wealth and income were much lower—even at the median level and adjusted for inflation. A 2019 Gallup poll of 150,000 people in 140 countries found that about 45% of Americans said they felt “a lot of worry” the previous day. The global average was 39%. Fifty-five percent of Americans said they felt “a lot of stress” the previous day. For the rest of the world, 35% said the same.
Part of what’s happened here is that we’ve used our greater wealth to buy bigger and better stuff. But we’ve simultaneously given up more control over our time. At best, those things cancel each other out.”
While Housel makes a strong case in his book for the trading off of time for money, I would suggest that this trade-off might go even deeper. One of the most famous (or infamous) moments in radio comedy came from a statement made on the Jack Benny radio program. This statement serves as the title of this essay. On his weekly radio program, with a large audience, Jack Benny was portrayed (for comedy’s sake) as a “tightwad” or “skinflint.” The character Jack played was someone who did not part easily with his money. On one of his programs, Jack Benny was held up at gunpoint. Jack was given the following instructions: “Your money or your life!” There was a poignant pause. The guy with the gun repeated his request with his harsh voice: “Your money or your life!” Another pause. Jack then replied, “I’m thinking it over.” The laughter that ensued is purported to be the longest in radio history.
Money and Life-Experiences
I suspect that the prolonged laughter related not just to Jack’s resistance to letting go of his money (an ongoing source of humor in his radio program) but also to the acknowledgement that we all have of often having to choose between money and some other important aspects of life—including our overall happiness. The laughter might have been a bit nervous, especially given that this radio broadcast emanated not many years after the Great Depression in America. Many listeners could recall a time when they had very little money, and their life was not very secure.
Now, perhaps a decade later, the radio audience might have been filled with listeners who were living in post-World War II prosperity and had the “luxury” of determining how to spend the money they earned and even (to some extent) the amount of money they could expect to earn. Yet, as many psychologists studying shifting social values and priorities have told us, the values and priorities we hold tend to have been established when we were children or young adults—which meant the 1930s and Great Depression for many post-World War II adults. The “ghosts” of “hard times” in the 1930s reside in the minds, hearts, and souls of 1940s adults, and in the collective consciousness or social unconsciousness of the post-war American society.
