How okay are we, really, with the right of everyone (a) to make as much money as they want, and (b) to spend it any way they like? If we would limit (a) or (b) or both, then how and why?
Consider for a moment what your (a) and (b) responses have been to the upward mobility stories we’ve looked at so far: Richard Reeves, Matthew Stewart, Steven Brill. Travie McCoy. David Boies, Eric and I. Now consider this story from an article in Above the Law:
“[P]ersonal injury attorney Thomas J. Henry threw a lavish bash to celebrate his son, Thomas Henry Jr.’s, 18th birthday. And the price tag for the Gatsby-mixed-with-burlesque-themed fête? A cool $4 million.
“To rack up such a hefty bill, the event had lots of performers which included showgirls, aerial performers, art installations, and contortionists (oh my!). Plus, there were musical performances and celebrity guests.
“And don’t think the over-the-top party was the only gift the birthday boy received:
“The star of the party, who sat on a throne-like chair when he wasn’t dancing, was given a fully loaded blue Ferrari, an IWC Portugieser Tourbillion watch and a custom-made painting from Alec Monopoly.
“Henry is known for throwing giant parties. Just last year, he spent $6 million for his daughter’s quinceañera. I guess we know which one is really daddy’s favorite.”
The writer telegraphs her attitude about the story with the article’s tone and with the understated lead line, “this seems extreme.” Apparently she would cast a vote for limitations on (b). When I’ve shared the story with friends, the response is usually stronger than “this seems extreme.”
I wonder why. Maybe it’s because this looks like a case of conspicuous consumption, which never goes down well. Economist/ sociologist Thorstein Veblen coined the term in his 1889 book, The Theory of the Leisure Class, to describe how the newly prosperous middle class were buying things to communicate their move up the social ladder. The neighbors were rarely impressed — that is, until they made their own purchases, and then the game turned into keeping up with Joneses.
The conspicuous consumption shoe might fit here: Mr. Henry’s website tells a bit of his upward mobility story — German immigrant, raised on a farm in Kansas, etc. Or maybe there’s something going on here that transcends his personal story. In that regard, the term “affluenza” comes to mind.
“The term “affluenza” was popularized in the late 1990s by Jessie O’Neill, the granddaughter of a past president of General Motors, when she wrote the book “The Golden Ghetto: The Psychology of Affluence.” It’s since been used to describe a condition in which children — generally from richer families — have a sense of entitlement, are irresponsible, make excuses for poor behavior, and sometimes dabble in drugs and alcohol.”
Definitions of the term come loaded with their own biases, judgments, and assumptions. This is from Merriam-Webster:
Affluenza: the unhealthy and unwelcome psychological and social effects of affluence regarded especially as a widespread societal problem: such as
a : feelings of guilt, lack of motivation, and social isolation experienced by wealthy people
b : extreme materialism and consumerism associated with the pursuit of wealth and success and resulting in a life of chronic dissatisfaction, debt, overwork, stress, and impaired relationships
And this is from the popular PBS series that came out shortly after The Golden Ghetto:
Af-flu-en-za n. 1. The bloated, sluggish and unfulfilled feeling that results from efforts to keep up with the Joneses. 2. An epidemic of stress, overwork, waste and indebtedness caused by dogged pursuit of the American Dream. 3. An unsustainable addiction to economic growth.
Affluenza made quite a splash in the estate planning world where I practiced, spawning a slew of books, CLE presentations, and new approaches to legal counseling and document design. Affluenza went mainstream in 2014 with the highly-publicized trial of Ethan Couch, the “Affluenza Teen,” when a judge reduced his sentence on four counts of intoxicated manslaughter and two counts of intoxicated assault after an expert witness testified that his wealthy upbringing had left him so psychologically impaired that he didn’t know right from wrong.
For a great number of my clients, that their kids might catch affluenza was their worst nightmare. Their fear suggests this consensus to Thomas Henry’s partying habits:
(a) it’s okay to make all the money you want,
(b) but it’s not okay if you use your money to make your kids a danger to themselves and to others.
I wonder — would it temper our rush to categorize and judge Mr. Henry if we knew his philanthropic history and philosophy? This is from his website:
“Mr. Henry’s overall philosophy is that helping others when you have the good fortune of being successful is not an elective decision but a mandatory decision. People who achieve success have a duty to help others.”
That statement closely mirrors the beliefs of Robber Baron Andrew Carnegie. We’ll look at that next time, along with the perceptions of other 0.01 percenters about the social responsibilities of wealth.
 The Forum’s website says that “fewer than 1% of U.S. lawyers are members,” which appropriately signals Thomas Henry’s position in the economic strata.
 I used to tell my clients that if I had a dime for every time a client said, “I don’t want my money to ruin my kids,” I would have been a rich man. That was hyperbole, of course: a dime each time wouldn’t have made me rich. On the other hand, a million dollars each time might have made me a billionaire. A billion is a BIG number.