In a recent interview with Shane Parrish, Whole Foods founder John Mackey talked a lot about wealth—what it means to him and what it doesn’t. He told a particularly compelling story about what he didn’t want wealth to look like for him.
Jeff Bezos’s home away from home, named ”Flying Fox”
He was going to meet with Jeff Bezos to discuss Amazon buying Whole Foods—you know, as one does—and the exact location of their meeting, Bezos’ boat house adjacent to his Lake Washington mansion, remained obscured until Mackey’s plane landed. Then, Mackey and his car were searched prior to entering, and after all the impersonal fanfare, he was left to conclude:
“I would never want to be so rich and so famous and so powerful that I couldn’t live a normal life.” He acknowledged, “I’m sure Jeff is one of the most envied people in the world, but I would not want to have to live my life like that.”
Now, I know you might be thinking, “Please, not another super wealthy person telling me how I should and shouldn’t think about money and wealth when they don’t have a material concern in the world!” And I get that. Yet, who better to teach us about the upside and downside of super success than those who’ve experienced it—or some version of it?
So, how wealthy do you want to be? Seriously. You already know that with more success—and more stuff—comes more scrutiny and responsibility, so what is it worth to you?
Personally, Mackey concludes that “a little bit of fame, a little bit of wealth, a little bit of power—to a certain point—is gratifying to the soul, but past that point, you get diminishing returns. It’s no longer bringing you any kind of happiness. It’s now a burden.”
Where do you draw the line between wealth as a blessing or a burden?
For eons, we’ve generally agreed that money can’t buy happiness—while quietly acting to the contrary. For years, we’ve pointed to at least one study that suggested money may buy happiness up to the point of comfortable sustenance, but not beyond. The most recent studies suggest a more nuanced and resonant truth—that more money can provide additional doses of happiness, but to degrees that are proportionately less relative to the more you already have.
But the real key here isn’t about the money itself, it seems; it’s about the meaning behind the money. For example, a 10% raise to someone with $500,000 of income may actually give that individual a similar boost in happiness as the person with $100,000 of income—at least momentarily—but it’s because of what that raise means more than the raise itself. Here’s how Harvard social scientist and author, Arthur Brooks, puts it:
“Nonpartisan social-survey data clearly show that the big driver of happiness is earned success: a person’s belief that he has created value in his life or the life of others.”
Earned success.
The fact that we did something of meaning.
It’s because of meaning that money matters.
And here, John Mackey has, indeed, put his money where his mouth is. He dropped his salary to $1 in 2006, and he also opted to forgo additional cash compensation, donated future stock options to foundations, and established an emergency fund for employees, coining a new phrase and philosophy, “conscious capitalism.” He offered the following explanation:
“I am now 53 years old and I have reached a place in my life where I no longer want to work for money, but simply for the joy of the work itself and to better answer the call to service that I feel so clearly in my own heart.”
So that’s John Mackey’s wealth story. That’s his why, his meaning. His philosophy regarding money and wealth.
What’s yours?