One Rich Man’s Message to Other People of Wealth: Click until your mouse breaks
Someone I know is a person of wealth. Yesterday he wrote a letter to other people of his economic status. I found his sentiments moving, and thought it was worth sharing. Although some are looking for systemic change, that will take time. This gentlemen has seven concrete suggestions on how people of wealth can take action right now. His letter:
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Hi there. I’m a wealthy person, and I’m writing a note to other people with wealth in the US who are trying to sort out how to respond to this unique crisis. Because I live in one of the early outbreak areas, I’ve had a head start on thinking about this, but I know we are all thinking about it now. If there is anything “great” about this pandemic and attendant economic collapse, it is that it is affecting all of us — rich, poor, and in between. Our response will succeed or fail based on what we accomplish together. But being wealthy changes our situation, and arms us with some very specific capabilities and responsibilities.
Like everyone, I am figuring this out as I go, but I want to share some imperatives that have become clear in the past week. Without any judgment on wealth itself, I’m going take a perspective based on morality and social responsibility, and offer some thoughts on what we should do now that we — the wealthy — are here.
1. Follow the rules that apply to everyone. Most of what we must to do to protect ourselves and our families is the same for everyone. Covid-19 works in the realm of biology and group behavior. It does not honor a FICO score, and it is perfectly comfortable in the first class cabin. We need to remember to be people first, and rich people second. I’ll confess — there are often times I feel like I can skirt a rule or act like directions don’t apply to me. This is NOT that time. People are watching — and it’s best to assume our actions are more visible and impactful. Providing evidence that the elite are trying to be first to the lifeboats (or the testing centers) is going to destroy the social cohesion we’ll need to get through this. In this emergency, our lifeboats are all the people in our communities. And we are theirs.
2. Mourn your portfolio in private. Those not in a coma may have noticed their net worth falling like the altimeter in a dive bomber. It’s distressing. It feels like ruin. I am there with you. But you need to put your feet squarely on the ground, take a cleansing breath, and commit to stoically stiff-upper-lipping this like the Queen in the Blitz. No one has time for our bullshit — first because parents and grandparents are dying and that trumps the financial impact 100%; second because 40% of Americans have less than $400 tucked away for an emergency, and a significant fraction of those people are going to lose their job in the next three months; and third because hysteria is going to panic your wealthy peers who we will need in order to get through this. So — unless you are down your last $399, please, bite the inside of your cheek and keep it corked. Our personal balance sheets may be important in six months, but they are neither relevant nor attractive cocktail conversation now.
3. Pay your people. At my “modest” level of wealth, I don’t typically think of myself as having an entourage. But honey — we have people. People who clean our houses. People who style our hair. People who take care of our kids. Shrinks. Trainers. Music teachers. Massage therapists. Gardeners. Add it up and yep, it’s an entourage; mostly a shared independent contractor one, but still — people who depend on us for their livelihoods. Thanks to social distancing, shelter in place, quarantine, whatever, many of them can’t do the work they usually do. Swallow hard and pay them anyway. If someone can clean your toilets for years or diaper your kid or interpret the weird dream you had, you can carry them as we work through this. Be creative if you can — have your trainer check in over email; do your therapy session in the bathroom while the kids pound on the door. Just. Keep. Paying. They need that money way more than you do. Get their venmos, give them cash, buy gift certificates. Pay. Keep them housed, fed, driving, and as healthy as you can. Pay your people!
4. Write Checks. Lots of them. This is a time of powerlessness, which nobody likes. And that’s less familiar for me, because my wealth usually lets me remain in control of a lot. Not this virus. It’s coming no matter how nice my vacation was last summer. One way I am finding to regain a little control is to give money away. It’s concrete and direct, and it’s easy to see when you’re done. Give to new rapid response funds. Give earlier, and give more, to all the organizations you already support. Give directly to people who are facing hardship. If you can’t personally see someone in hardship, find someone closer to the problem and give them money to give away. If the government sends you a relief check you don’t need, nominate someone you’ll pass it on to. People from marginalized communities will feel hardship first and most intensely. Don’t overthink this — as tens of thousands of people are laid off every week, we are in a target rich environment. It will be hard to go wrong. That DAF that’s been sitting off to the side? You’ve already separated from that money — now it just needs to get places where it can do work. Get started drawing your DAF down.
Given the impact on your portfolio (see #2) and the general uncertainty of the times, you may find it incredibly tempting to wait until we know more, to keep your powder dry, and to be careful. Fight that temptation and just click “donate” ’til your mouse breaks — you can afford another one. We know more than enough already. If you generally worry about moral hazard, it’s safe to temporarily repeal that belief: this crisis is long on force majeure and short on perverse incentives. A portfolio model works — if you are worried that one donation might not be optimal, just make ten. In aggregate, you’ll be fine. If you feel precarious, then reflect that everyone is feeling it, and give more, not less. In my circle, we are starting to use the phrase “Run toward the fire.” Don’t let your money shelter in place.
We are at the beginning of a marathon as the economic impact hits, so as you begin giving, the trick is to start motions that you will sustain for months — we must bias toward acting now and also prepare to keep moving money for a long time. We have the enormous good fortune to have real, meaningful impact just as people are more vulnerable. And it’s great therapy. Write those checks!
5. Put non-cash assets to good use. Some of us have holdings — especially surplus real estate or business assets — that suddenly aren’t as useful in their primary purpose. Be creative and figure out how those resources can be useful. Can your building house a non-profit? Can your business re-tool or redirect to support vulnerable communities? Can you help critical or vulnerable community members with transportation or communication assets? This is a tough ask, because the economic impact is hitting those same businesses hard. But be as creative as you can!
6. Don’t hoard stuff even though you can. I have enormous purchasing power compared to most people. But even though you can pay $800 for the last stack of toddler N95 masks, don’t. There are no magical things you can buy that will protect you from this. But there are plenty of things you can buy that the medical system actually needs and we civilians don’t. Don’t hoard stuff!
7. Use your influence and assets to lead where you can. The great thing about being rich is that it makes you smarter, more attractive, funnier and thinner. Okay none of that’s true, but our wealth does impart an aura of conscious and unconscious deference. It’s a way we’re influential, and it illuminates how we can punch above our weights in affecting the behavior of people around us. When you encourage and support social distancing, it helps just a bit more. When you encourage other affluent folks to write checks ’til their fingers bleed, it helps just a bit more. When you don’t lose your goddamn marbles and panic everyone around you, it helps just a little bit more. When you check in with people from all across your network to see how they are doing and ask how you can help, it helps just a little bit more. Taken together, those little bits can add up to a lot. And remember in many cases you will lead by visibly following the direction of people most impacted and with greater expertise.
Focus on spreading the truth, not rumors. And work on what the experts call “pro-social” messaging — describing what we’re capable of when we come together as a community, and how we are going to take care of one another. One way you can do all this is to share this message (however you’re comfortable sharing it) with other affluent people. Rich people know and are trusted by more than their share of wealthy and powerful people. Nudge norms by using “we” statements — these are very effective at guiding behavior:
We are following the rules that apply to everyone.
We are mourning our portfolios in private.
We are paying our people.
We are writing checks. Lots of them.
We are putting non-cash assets to good use.
We are not hoarding even though we can.
We are drawing together and leading.
Bringing our wealth more fully into this fight will make a difference. Lead — and follow — thoughtfully and visibly!
That’s all I have right now — but hopefully once you get in this state of mind, you’ll think of even more ways to put your assets to use. You will rise to this moment, and we will do this — you, me, and our money — together!
