Jeff Bezos’ Poo is Worth 239 Times its Weight in Gold

An Illogical story of Ultra-valuable Executives, Irrational Parents, and Costco Gas Lines
Imagine a misty Monday morning at the Amazon HQ in Seattle. The world’s richest man cups up his favorite boutique light roast, handcrafted from one of the Northwest’s most talented baristas. The nutty aroma eases into his nose, he takes the first sip of the beverage prepared to his liking with a dollop of coconut milk.

Moments later, the familiar stinging quotidian urge hits Bezos’ midsection.
Nature calls. It’s that time.
He makes his way towards the impeccably polished C-suite restrooms.
Drops trawl. It’s business time.
And PLOP.
There goes $1.15 million.
What a second… what?
Let me explain.
In 2017, Bezos’ stock value increased an average of $11.5 million/hour. (Forbes)
Most people are indisposed for about six minutes to produce a 4 oz dose of human waste.
Bezos poo time is therefore is worth:
$1.15 million for a six-minute session
$1.15 million/4 oz turd
Bezos’ caca = $288,000/oz
And as of this week, gold is worth ~$1205.10/oz.
That means that Bezos excrement is worth 239x its weight in gold.
Holy Crap. Literally.
Alright, alright, I hear what you’re saying. Bezos has to poop everyday.
Of course, but what if we could buy off this biological need and he could spend the time doing other things? Then what?
Yes, you’re right, but in all fairness, my intention with this incorrect economic equivalence is to illustrate that his time is absurdly valuable and he should only be doing what he is demonstrably the best at.
I’m also arguing that by doing what he is best at, he is actually maximizing his personal fulfillment as demonstrated by the principles of flow (see Csikszentmihalyi).
Do you think that Jeff Bezos spends his evening packing boxes and shipping them to all his Amazon customers?
Do you think he puts out morning fires with backend developers for the Amazon e-commerce platform?
Does he spend time troubleshooting why his private jet isn’t working?
No. Probably not.
He could likely do all these things–and probably exceedingly well because he is a polymath and genius.
But he doesn’t. He doesn’t because doing these tasks himself would cost him literally tens of millions of dollars.
What’s worse, the opportunity cost of not doing what he does best–running Amazon–could far surpass that astronomical sum.
Jeff Bezos is busy doing what he’s an expert at which is preparing Amazon for global domination.
He enjoys being the best at what he does.
And so you should you.
But I’m not Jeff Bezos, my time isn’t worth $207 million dollars a day.
Yes, you’re right.
But it’s worth a hell of a lot more than you think it is.
Let me explain some recent irrational behavior I’ve seen. So we can learn from it together.
How Baby Boomers Highly Undervalue Their Time — My Wealthy, Irrationally Cheap Parents (I Mean That in the Most Endearing Possible Way)
I just moved to Southern California after nearly a decade in Europe. Living far overseas, I didn’t get to see my family and friends that much.
My father is a medical doctor (oncologist) and immigrated from Florence, Italy in the 70s. He has worked hard his entire life so he could make enough money to live comfortably, travel often, and retire confidently. He has made several profitable real estate investments along his way and earned a very decent salary for over 30 years, he even sold his practice for a chunk of change in the 90s.
After my decade in Europe, my parents–now in their early 70s–were excited that I was moving closer to home (they are back and forth between Vegas, Miami, and Chicago). They hadn’t spent time with me in years besides infrequent visits to where I was living in France.
My new location in Laguna Beach, CA was only a few hour flight from Las Vegas, where my father was working. We finally had an opportunity to see each other easily and cheaply.
So we hopped on Google Flights–they called me up one day and started exhasperated that the $500 ticket was too much and that someone had to look after the dogs.
Are you serious?
Now I know what you’re thinking: maybe they didn’t want to come see you.
I can assure you that isn’t the case judging my Jewish mom’s incessant phone calls day and night.
Let’s think about this. You have sufficient cash in your bank account. You have plenty of free time and you’re going to not see your son because of 500 bloody dollars?
Let’s get real here.
I’m going to spoil the ending: they ended up coming.
And furthermore, they ended up stuffing our sonic pet Chihuahua, Kuki, in their carry-on.
So what was the real excuse?
Not only did they absolutely love Southern California–a place they had never really visited before–they ostensibly had a really good time reconnecting with their son who was no longer estranged across an ocean.
My parents and I strolling in Laguna Beach a few weeks ago. My dad is dangerously tan.
Do you think they’re going to look back and wish they didn’t spend the $500?
I highly doubt it.
I do know that they will forever have a warm and fuzzy feeling when they think about their Laguna trip. And more socially quantifiable, it gives them fodder to discuss how fabulous it was with their friends for months — extra value.
And for god’s sake, who doesn’t love relaxing on the beach in Southern California?
Now, I would argue this is a fundamental difference between our generation (I was born in 1985) and my parents’ generation. But alas, how millennials and baby boomers value experiences is an argument for a different day.
Many people are so intrinsically risk averse to the point where it detrimentally and irrationally harms their ability to generate happiness. Simply put, they didn’t see their $500 investment as having a positive ROI because they couldn’t numerically quantify (or perhaps envision) their resulting happiness.
Let me leave you with one final case, something I know many of you have seen or experienced, and are guilty of.
The Dreaded and Illogical Costco Gasoline Line
You know, that enormous mass of vehicles boiling in the sun on hot summer weekends, burning fossil fuels while waiting to die in an endless cluster of chaos that spills out onto all connecting streets?
Yeah, the Costco Gasoline Line.
Last Thursday on my way home from a surf session I filled up my car @ $3.29/gallon * 15 gallons = $49.35
In doing so, I drove about ten minutes out of the way, waited in line for about 20 minutes, and generally lost faith in society.
Why though?
The nail in the coffin was the fact that nearly all of the gas stations that I passed on the way home were only marginally more expensive than Costco.
Most local stations were about 10 cents/gallon more expensive than Costco but for the sake of the argument, we will say 20 cents.
Local Price Gas = $3.49/gallon * 15 gallons = $52.35
$52.35–49.35=$3 saved
Now, I went through my own personal version of hell and wasted over 45 min of my life.
All for three damn dollars.
I should also note that I spent $3.50 on a cinnamon churro and a slice of pepperoni pizza at Costco which resulted in unquantifiable collateral damage to my beach body.
At the very lowest unit of billable time, I also lost an additional $50 in productivity for the ~45 minute ordeal.
Not to mention the irreparable emotional damage of going through this circus.
How much was that going to cost?
Conclusion
I’m not here to argue that you should nickel and dime yourself for every second of household work, and that there isn’t some intrinsic reward that you get by doing things with your own damn hands. I can’t (and shouldn’t) take that away from you. Do what makes you happy and is personally fulfilling.
What I’m saying is that time is happiness so don’t waste it.
Don’t waste it because you aren’t honestly assigning value to your happiness or time.
The only reason money exists is that so you can buy yourself time.
It’s meant to be spent on things that allow you to do what you’re best at and are sources of fulfillment.
It’s meant to be spent on quality experiences so that you can do things that make you genuinely happy.
And ALL of your time has monetary value whether you want to believe it or not (opportunity cost).
When you wake up tomorrow, take note of the ways you can remove the clutter from your daily experience. And most importantly, start being honest with yourself and asses where you could be saving time and making room for fulfilling pursuits.
Jeff Bezos isn’t going to stop pooping anytime soon. And nor should he.
But you don’t have to waste your next three weekends in a row because you’re trying to fix the plumbing in your beach house. Call a plumber, fire up some brats on the grill. Talk to your siblings or children. Drink a beer or six.
Now I’m going to get a coffee and get some work done.
Awww man, I really need…to….