Those poor unhappy rich people

How many times do we have to hear that "money doesn't/can't buy happiness" -- a grand statement almost inevitably uttered by:

a) some dude who makes a pretty/very/or very very comfortable living

b) and/or some dude who's bought into this religious ideology or that one wholesale

c) and/or some psychologist, or pseudo-psychologist (who also happens to make a very good living)

"Money can't buy you happiness" is WAY too simple. It fails to acknowledge that those with more money have more choices, in many cases, many more choices than those with less money.

It just grates when I read something like the following, from The Wall Street Journal's Jonathan Clements (jonathan.clements@waj.com) from a recent "Getting Going" column, a syndicated column that runs weekly in The Denver Post Business Section:

"Money may not make you happy. But it could make you desperately unhappy. Lots of folks stagger through life, buffeted by credit-card debt, unpaid bills and gnawing fears about their financial future.

"Sure, these worries are more likely to hit those with lower incomes..."

Say what!?

OK, in the first paragraph Clements is probably referring to yuppies who make $100k plus, who are still running up the credit card bills, when they don't "need" to ("need" is a thorny, difficult-to-define term, to say the least).

Trouble is, he collapses everyone into this paragraph, including the folks who Barabra Ehrenreich has clearly shown have been "Nickeled and Dimed" to death.

While I can't claim to be being nickeled and dimed, life can be plenty stressful for those of us well below the $100k mark.

People like us might have no choice other than use credit cards to pay for the replacement of a leaky roof. We had no other (better) choice (cash is the best choice), and we're hardly living the high life. (We live in a modest 3-bedroom, 1600-foot house that eats up 50 percent of our monthly income, and which we bought for $40k less than the median house sells for in metro Denver).

To be fair, with outstanding credit, we were able to use a check from a credit card company that gave us 3.9% interest -- and we were well-versed enough in credit card-ese to know that we had to pay off our entire balance before using the check, and that we can't use that credit card again until we have that $4k debt paid off, or face paying 20% interest on anything we now charge on that card.

In fact, it's Clements' second paragraph that's most patronizing: "Sure, these (credit card, debt) worries are more likely to hit those with lower incomes."

It's hard not to chalk this breezy sentence up to anything but sheer dismissiveness -- and ignorance. It's a good bet that the closest Clements' ever come to "those with lower incomes" is the janitor working the night shift -- and his second job -- at the WSJ offices.

We're not the janitor working two jobs. And I'm not saying that our four person family qualifies for low-income status, though at $50k per year, we are below the median income for a family of four. But our lack of income DOES add considerable stress to our lives, and reduces the number of choices that we have compared to people that are more well off.

For example, while my wife and I have to spend time trying to figure out which lower interest credit card to transfer our several thousand dollar balance to, people with more money can spend their time on other things (yachting in the Bahamas, anyone? anyone?).

While we have to pay $150 in mortgage insurance because we couldn't afford to put 20% down on a house that was $40k below the Denver metro median cost those with more money need not sweat this -- and they can spend the extra $150 per month on say, high speed Internet, cable, and maybe a cellular plan (all things we forego to cut costs).

While I labor away in the garage to fix that broken appliance, and the other, and work hard to maintain a 15-year-old car (our only one), while I spend time cleaning our bathrooms, crawling into our attic to add insulation, while I take out the garbage, put up a fence in our yard and do other yard work, while I dream of the German-speaking nanny I'd like to hire so that my daughters could have someone other than myself teach them German, others simply dig into their cash supply and hire out.

And I bet they don't throw a fit when they mistakenly break the baby crib that they got for free because they're worried about plopping down an extra $150 for a new crib.

Absolutely, we are privileged compared to true low-income folks -- the folks working two, three jobs, with both parents, and possibly all kids working. The people, who despite the long hours and multiple jobs, are still unable to pay the basic housing, food, utility bills, etc. These are the people buying stuff at rent-to-own, and going to pay-day loan outfits so that they can buy their kids Christmas presents, or even, just put clothes on their backs.

Oh yeah, but I forgot: money plays absolutely no role in happiness and life satisfaction. (Right!)

OK, there are relatively happy low-income people working two jobs, who can't pay the bills, the basic bills, that is, who don't have a car, don't have Internet access, who can't even dream of sending their kids to college, or putting away money in a 401k, though I, and I bet Clements, and others who reproduce a "money doesn't really matter" ideology, don't actually know anyone like this.

Ultimately, it's incredibly patronizing, not to mention just plain ridiculous to claim, from a comfortable financial position, that money doesn't play into happiness.

The most accurate thing is to say that:

"Money might not buy happiness (though it may well buy SOME happiness for some of us), but it IS a significant factor in the qualify of life for all of us, and, of course, one's quality of life stands as a crucial aspect of one's overall happiness."

To qualify like this would be to acknowledge the complexity of life, its grayness. Gray doesn't sell well in a country that values simplistic, black-and-white views of life.

In the end, the "money doesn't buy happiness" mantra, is an ideological ploy used to gloss over the huge inequities in wealth that characterize the contemporary American, and global, economic climate. It's a way for the rich, or relatively well off, to feel better about themselves and the many things that they don't ever have to worry about that are everyday stressors for low income people.