On people who grew up poor and made money
Apr. 1st, 2026 09:38 pmScott D. Clary writes in Facebook -- https://www.facebook.com/scottdclarypage/posts/pfbid0232hvAAbxvByTjaMYB3Y1jKj8oSRRroWZUZTG1SbK7STQEGLpLmm6F7UotSW4y4pRl :
I've noticed people who grew up without money talk about it differently than people who grew up with it. Not better or worse. Just differently. The ones who didn't have it think about losing it. The ones who did think about having more of it. Same bank account, completely different relationship.
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In another Facebook entry, Scott D. Clary also writes -- https://www.facebook.com/scottdclarypage/posts/pfbid0XBwjUHZg7iJJjNboEZkjzxiHJUMsH4yn1fzgTTdXh76e2h68F6Gk1nG8SQuWV8N6l :
I've noticed that people who grew up poor and made money often have a harder time enjoying it than people expect. The anxiety doesn't disappear when the number changes. It just finds a new shape. The relationship with money was formed before the money arrived. It takes deliberate work to update it.
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Well, there is something to it in my case, too. But I am a mathematician, not a businessman; so for me good life means having good working conditions rather than having money. Good working conditions presume a modest, but sufficient salary, good social atmosphere at work, and the freedom to pursue my research interests as I see fit, with minimum of extra duties.
I grew up in difficult circumstances (even if it was not literally "a question of money"), and knew difficult times later in my life as well. Now my working conditions are reasonably good. The result is that, yes, I am not thinking about getting even better working conditions. A larger salary, a bigger grant, more fame and glory, etc. I am not interested in that. I want to keep what I have.
A half of my work efforts is intended to provide me with some security, in terms of the good times staying and the bad times not returning. That's what the number "74 peer reviewed publications" and other such similar numbers are supposed to help me with. Another half of my work efforts is intended to help my most important ideas to survive and flourish after I am dead. That's what I write my books for.
I've noticed people who grew up without money talk about it differently than people who grew up with it. Not better or worse. Just differently. The ones who didn't have it think about losing it. The ones who did think about having more of it. Same bank account, completely different relationship.
***
In another Facebook entry, Scott D. Clary also writes -- https://www.facebook.com/scottdclarypage/posts/pfbid0XBwjUHZg7iJJjNboEZkjzxiHJUMsH4yn1fzgTTdXh76e2h68F6Gk1nG8SQuWV8N6l :
I've noticed that people who grew up poor and made money often have a harder time enjoying it than people expect. The anxiety doesn't disappear when the number changes. It just finds a new shape. The relationship with money was formed before the money arrived. It takes deliberate work to update it.
***
Well, there is something to it in my case, too. But I am a mathematician, not a businessman; so for me good life means having good working conditions rather than having money. Good working conditions presume a modest, but sufficient salary, good social atmosphere at work, and the freedom to pursue my research interests as I see fit, with minimum of extra duties.
I grew up in difficult circumstances (even if it was not literally "a question of money"), and knew difficult times later in my life as well. Now my working conditions are reasonably good. The result is that, yes, I am not thinking about getting even better working conditions. A larger salary, a bigger grant, more fame and glory, etc. I am not interested in that. I want to keep what I have.
A half of my work efforts is intended to provide me with some security, in terms of the good times staying and the bad times not returning. That's what the number "74 peer reviewed publications" and other such similar numbers are supposed to help me with. Another half of my work efforts is intended to help my most important ideas to survive and flourish after I am dead. That's what I write my books for.


