WHAT OF THE HATERS?
One person’s financial success seems to bring out worst in readers, Adam Mayers writes,
Every time a friend of mine succeeds I die a little, goes a saying often attributed to the American writer Gore Vidal.
The quip is about the nature of jealousy and the psychology of insecurity among successful people, but I’ve seen it applied over and over in this small corner of the world that relates to personal finance. It most often surfaces when we write about people who have done well or turned their life around.
The stories are meant to be in- spirational, not literal prescriptions; an example of what can be done. But some readers, whom I suspect do not consider themselves successful, feel threatened by another’s good fortune. They respond with comments intended to diminish the achievement, but merely diminish themselves.
This negative reaction is basic human nature, but the Internet enables an unfiltered, anonymous, unaccountable sharing of these half-baked ideas.
The most recent example was last week’s column about Anthony Molinaro. He is a 20-year-old full-time student at University of GuelphHumber, who also holds down a full-time factory job paying $50,000 a year.
Anthony works long weeks during the school year and wants to save as much as he can to give himself a head start. What could be wrong with that?
Instead of applauding Anthony’s self-discipline and determination, a thread in the hundreds of comments on the Star’s Facebook page picks holes in the narrative. The commenters seize on a piece of the story as proof of how lucky or privileged Anthony is. Who couldn’t do what he’s doing if this, or that, had been there for them too?
Rob Carrick, who writes about investing and personal finance at the Globe, noted that the article about Anthony brought out the “haters,” as it has in similar articles he’s written. It frequently happens at the Star. A recent story about a grad who paid off $48,000 in loans in a year by going on a debt diet drew plenty of hoots.
I believe the root of it is a deepening sense of financial and economic insecurity. We once believed things would get better.
That self-confidence allowed us to celebrate the achievements of people who showed the way. Now, we’re not so sure.
Wages are stagnant, prospects seem dimmer, the world is a more dangerous place. So we disparage those who do well. Someone who tries and succeeds must have some special advantage.
My inbox is full of emails from people who feel overwhelmed managing their affairs. Some are embarrassed by their lack of success. Some can’t seem to get ahead no matter how hard they try and so have stopped trying.
We help as many as we can in our Money Makeover series, but they’re just the tip.
Lesley-Anne Scorgie, whose recent book is The Modern Couple’s Money Guide, says she’s found a similar negative reaction to her personal journey.
Scorgie, 32, worked her way through university and lived with her grandparents. She held down a couple of part-time jobs and had saved enough by graduation for a down payment on a house. She went on to get an MBA and is an author and money coach.
Scorgie says some of the online reactions to her story “are not worth repeating,” harsh, rude and angry.
She agrees the reaction is deeply rooted in personal insecurity with many people believing that you must earn a lot to become financially independent. This is not true, she says.
She finds that couples who’ve made the biggest turnaround are those earning the least — combined incomes of $60,000 or less.
“Their progress isn’t rooted in some magical get-rich-quick formula,” she says. “They come to the table to acknowledge they need help. They listen and implement triedand-true financial principles. They focus on their own situation rather than trying to keep up with everyone else.” Where does that leave the haters? They probably won’t change, but the momentary joy they get from their online zinger won’t fix a lifetime of wondering why they never got ahead. More columns by Adam Mayers Adam Mayers writes about investing and personal finance on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Have a question? Reach him at amayers@thestar.ca