Conspiracy of Greed

The time requires it: unemployed, they risk their meager resources. They pool their experience and knowledge into a fledgling company.

Their timing is perfect. The company flourishes. Eight-hour days stretch into eighteen; nights blur into a foggy blur. The money hemorrhage reverses. They borrow and repay. A news story, a chance encounter, a product perfect for its niche, a clever juxtaposition of markets ignites their products: the latest Pet
Rock.

They hire an employee then two. they begin hiring specialist: accountant, marketing companies, IT specialist, forepersons, managers, vice presidents to handle specialized areas of the company.

They go public. Their IPO is a wild success. They have a board and are CEO and president.

Their income doubles, trebles, quadruples. They buy a new home, then a vacation home. Their cars become fancier, bigger, more expensive. They buy a corporate jet and hire a fulltime pilot. Their income reaches the seven-figure mark, then mushrooms to eight and ten figures.

The point becomes a game: making money; winning. Now the problem is too much money. They don’t know how to spend it all. They persist for the game. Perhaps their net worth climbs to a billion dollars or multiple billions. Now money is not money, it is power. The globe is their oyster and they feed on It, sucking the resources of the planet for their personal bank account. Now the challenge is to find ways to pay less taxes; to produce the product at two pennies less by moving the company and its production offshore. They close plants, negotiate contracts with employees, change partners and find even more ways to shave a few cents’ profit from their magical innovation. They create a foundation to give money away---not for compassion but as a tax shelter.

The American dream come true.

There was a time when I was convinced that behind all the machinations of the politics in this country of ours there was an elite group, a cabal who controlled everything. Some called it the Illuminati; some thought it was the Rockefellers and other old moneyed families. Their stories fueled my imagination and made me angry and yet wishful that I was among their number.

Now I don’t think that is the case at all. Now, perhaps older an wiser or older and less wise, I think the controlling factor is not a sinister group but a sinister part of human nature—a conspiracy of greed.

We are not content. Enough is never enough. We of the 99% are a minority of less than 1% in the world’s huge disparity of income. Yet we all want more; the American dream-work hard, get rich, retire to a Caribbean island with servants and luxury vehicles and more homes than we can count. I daresay that, at the end of that road, is more a nightmare than a dream. Howard Hughes, the classical rich-man-turned-greed-turned-paranoid is perhaps the most graphic example. But is not the very need to continue to amass wealth itself a sign that the dream is more nightmare than pleasure? Is it possible we pursue the dream to hide the nightmare from ourselves—a boy whistling in the dark as he walks through the cemetery at night to keep up his courage? Or are we just deluded into thinking that there is a dream—have we been sold a bill of goods, a black rainbow?

In saying this, I am not pointing fingers at those who create and grow businesses. Because we are not all cut out to brave the risks, we need someone who is to employ us. We need the dreamers and the performers and the risk takers. I never pursued business being one of the employee types. But I share in the dream. I want more than I have. I think little of those who have less. I am of the the conspiracy of greed, writ small. What I see in them, my fictional heroine and hero, is me myself without their flair, courage and skill. Yet I envy and wish and covet. “What would I do with a million dollars?” floats somewhere as an unresolved question. My answer is always, “I don’t know but I’d like to find out.”

So what is the antidote, the cure for this hard diamond stone of greed which I find at my core? Is it amassing more or is it giving more? One wiser than I said, “Give and it shall be given you, good measure, packed down and running over.” I don’t think He was talking about getting more things, more houses, land, money by giving away what I now possess. Perhaps what He meant was a different kind of return on investment—a sense of well being, a growing sense of compassion, a new joy of life, a deeper sense of my oneness with all humanity.

He was right. The transforming power of giving on the giver is reality. I know because I’ve tried it and found, for the tiny investment, a reward of overwhelming dividend. The conspiracy of greed against myself is not dead, but perhaps a bit weakened and chastened.

Just for the joy of it, try it.

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Extra Bed

Note: The following few lines were sent to me by a friend whom I highly respect. She has been my inspiration for giving for a number of years. In those years, she has traveled to Central America, Africa and Malaysia helping those who have vision problems and those effected by the tsunami. I reflect on her thoughts because the reason I don’t do many charitable things is the very thing she expresses here. Words to ponder; words to confront.

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…And the question I wake up with during storming nights is: How did I get so lucky that I have a warm, safe, comfortable, secure place to sleep. And then I just say God, God, God, God until I fall back asleep. And I wake thinking that I have an extra bed. I could offer it to someone without a place to sleep and then I realize that I am selfish and scared.

5/9/12