The Rich Don't Need You

And that's why they end up so alone

Unless you’re in the American South, chances are, if you drive around rich neighborhoods, you just won’t see many front porches. Sprawling backyards and houses that stretch up to third and fourth stories are normal. Gigantic lawns with curated grass and homes set back 50 yards is common. But the comfortable, cozy, worn-in front porch that lets you see the street and your neighbors is not a common feature in the architecture of the rich. And you know why? It’s because rich people don’t need you.

I only need you, Green Paper of Comfort

They don’t need to know their neighbors. They don’t need to interact with their proximal environment. It turns out that the wealthier you are, the more you get to have chosen relationships instead of default community. Decades ago, you had to know your neighbors, because these were the people that you went to school and work with or the people that you would eventually date and marry. Unless, of course, you went to private school or you went to boarding school, where your community is more of an intentional connection; a more exclusive binding tie than just being able to see their house from your mailbox.

We all hear that being rich is lonely, and isolationism is probably why. People are more like squirrels than we care to believe, and resource guarding leads to pushing other people away to protect your precious pile of riches. There’s a reason people who build secret bunkers are killed to keep the location secret and dragons guarding gold live in desolate caves. Once you have something worth protecting, you shrink away from the world to keep it safe. As you grow in your prosperity, it is vitally important to keep your world open to human connection, even at the expense of fully defending your shiny objects, so that you don’t wither away into a creature like Gollum. This is a sacrifice and a risk, but crucial to being alive. You cannot forget your roots.

Being independent is a great and worthy goal, but when taken to the extreme, it just means that you’re alone. Cohesive society demands personal sacrifice, in the same way that a nuclear family does. Part of the backfiring from wokeness that led to current American politics was the individualization of every single person that resulted in the breakdown of larger solidarity. People were not willing to bend for the greater good.

I’ve lived in quite a few very poor neighborhoods, and there is a default geographic tribalism that exists for safety because spreading resources and ensuring the security of the neighborhood block fell on everybody’s shoulders, like a Roman phalanx. At some point everybody needs somebody. Sometimes you’re the needer, and sometimes you’re the somebody. Being on good terms with your neighbor means that you can borrow a cup of sugar, that they’ll watch your house while you’re gone, they notice when your dog has escaped, and they’ll give you a call when your behavior is erratic. It turns out the more money you have, the less dependent you are on external cohesion. You have the resources to ensure that there is not a cup of sugar ever missing, that your fences are secure, and that your home in hidden. But there’s also no one around to call you out on being crazy, or to check your inner voice. When there’s only one voice swirling around in your head, it echoes. Your own voice gets louder, and reinforces itself, doubling down on forming your entire worldview. Humans don’t do well when left alone for too long.

There is a price to pay for social cohesion, but the annoyance of being in a supportive group outweighs the isolation of being alone. On your own, you never have to put up with people’s bullshit. Everything can be maintained to your exact comfort. In a group, you have to adapt and conform and sacrifice.

Hispanic families like mine love to say a million goodbyes before they leave, to circle their room, and to stay as late as everyone else is staying, often long into the night. Essentially sacrificing self for the collectivism for the group.

By doing so, you’re saying “I’m willing to participate in the cultural norms, so that I may stay in the group.” The group notices who leaves early, and are a little offended because the departing choose to prioritize their sleep (or their boredom) over paying homage to the collective group. There’s an unspoken agreement that we all sacrifice and maximize for each other because that’s how we get by, and to go against that is to rebel against group norms. Success and independence often means you stop needing the group and you prioritize your individualism, so you can cut ties. You don’t care about the judgments because they are not required for you to continue to survive.

That also comes with a feeling of betrayal from group participants. “Oh, you’re too good for us. You don’t need us.” To go one step deeper, what some of those in the group may think is, “I still need us. I have to stick around, but you can leave because you’re a little bit better than me. I depend on the collective resources, and you don’t. I am lesser and needier than you and I resent that mirror being held up to me.” Those who need to protect their own ego will push you away because of this. No, it’s not right or fair, but it exists. We’re human.

This phenomenon also happens when people have another form of wealth: high self-approval. People who need approval from external parties conform to the standards of the group because they’re dependent on it. Those who don’t need approval from the group are wealthier and are able to turn away the norms, forging their own path. A great and admirable goal in a vacuum, but do not walk that path so far that you lose sight of others. Artists seclude to be more in touch with their divine inspiration, but too much isolation severs your connection to the world and makes your life small. If all you do is choose personal preference and your own priorities, then you don’t make room for anybody else to comfortably exist. You become so thorny to interact with that it’s easier for others to just opt out.

A well-balanced life demands the toxicity of conformation. As we’ve seen in the past decade, when everyone is a special snowflake, there is no social cohesion. If you want to participate in society, you have to give even when it’s uncomfortable and even when it’s boring. To reap the rewards of connection, you have to pay the price of compromise. To stay connected and to validate other people’s existence because they deserve that too. Do not let your gold drive you so far underground that you lose sight of the light.

From me to you with love,

Alec

Note: No AI was used to write, edit, or otherwise modify this article.