Wants versus needs
More of the former, fewer of the latter.
One of my challenges penning these little posts is resisting the temptation to vent about everything. My problems are, uniquely, my problems: I’m not sure anyone wants to hear about my annoyance with increasingly picky eBay buyers (it’s a site for used stuff, guys) or my ongoing disbelief at the rudeness of Whole Foods shoppers.
In the grand scheme of life, these barely rate as problems. And the fact I view them that way speaks to something I’m fortunate to enjoy: the relative financial, emotional, and physical health to be consumed by trivialities. Because a big percentage of people in this country—including many people I know—simply don’t have that luxury.
First, a plug: if you’re not reading
here on Substack, you should. Her latest column, “We Don't Need 'Self-Help,' We Need Support,” fused a bunch of my disparate thoughts around the conditions that facilitate a healthy life. That’s been top of mind as the search begins for a place to resettle on the east coast where my boys can grow up closer to their mom’s family, be safe, and attend good schools.1Reading Powers’ column, though, made me appreciate how fortunate I am to be able to think so strategically. Like many of us with first-world problems, I’m much more consumed with how to optimize my life (while leaving a little room for magic) than worrying about how my sons keep a roof over their heads, food on the table, and clothes on their backs. For a huge number of Americans, life is about sheer survival.
“A new workout, a ‘clean’ eating regime or a meditation practice can’t make a person healthy in an unhealthy environment,” Powers wrote. “No amount of therapy or prayer will erase the chronic stress of a two-hour commute, lack of childcare, medical debt, or loneliness. Walkable cities and towns would do more for our physical and mental health than a thousand wellness books. The fact is, happy and healthy people don't just happen. They are created by the culture in which they reside.”
She cites
’s The Year of Living Danishly, which details Russell and her husband’s experience escaping burn out in London by moving to Denmark. Yes, the income taxes there are around 57%. But, Powers notes, that “seems a small price to pay for a sense of wellbeing.”“The government guarantees pretty much anything you can think of: health care, higher education, day care, a year of paid maternity and paternity care, unemployment insurance guaranteeing 80 percent of your wages for two years, and more paid vacation days in a year than many Americans get in a lifetime,” she writes.
I could go down a rabbit hole here about how the United States is fundamentally a poor country filled with rich people, or the destructiveness of late-stage capitalism and America’s obsession with individualism (both of which Powers addresses). But one thing I took from the Danish experience was a little broader: the benefit of removing needs from your life wherever possible.
The same concept struck me as I read the latest newsletter from another favorite commentator, Scott Galloway. He spoke about how real wealth comes from reaching a point where income from sources other than work (such as interest on savings or the appreciation in the value of real estate) exceeds how much you spend.
“If your passive income is greater than your burn, you don’t need to work (though you may want to), because you don’t need the compensation to pay your expenses. That’s wealth,” Galloway said in an excerpt from his upcoming book, The Algebra of Wealth.
I’d apply the burn rate concept to emotional health. When I was younger, I had needs I thought required filling, especially around being with someone whose needs I could adopt as my own and “fix.” Now that I’m older, have children, am settled in my career, and have a clearer sense of self, my emotional burn rate has dropped precipitously. That’s freed me to focus on what I want—from how I show up as a father, brother, and son to how and where I live, what I look for in a partner, and what I value professionally. It has dramatically altered the dynamic of my life, as well as its quality.
“It's nearly impossible for individual decisions or behaviors to be the defining factors in many people’s lives because the systemic problems are so huge that they dwarf sincere efforts made at an individual level,” Powers wrote. “Average Danes have much more freedom than Americans to make choices to change their lives precisely because their government and society at large offer so much support.”2
This isn’t to suggest Denmark has all the answers, nor that there aren’t other serious problems. One big one is conflating needs and wants: The Daily Valet3 last week reported on money dysmorphia: a “phenomenon that occurs when someone has a distorted or insecure view of their financial standing no matter what it truly is, leading them to make poor monetary decisions.” It cited a Bloomberg study where 25% of people earning more than $175,000 a year described themselves as “very poor,” “poor,” or “getting by but things are tight.” A big culprit? Social media, natch.
“There’s this perception that you have to portray yourself as successful and that means having an expensive watch or nice car and that is so untrue,” certified financial planner and Life Planning Partners founder Carolyn McClanahan told CNBC. “You have to make sure you are happy. Stuff isn’t going to make you happy.”
The solution? Reducing my financial and emotional burn rate. It’s forgetting about keeping up with the Kardashians, living within my means, and taking care of my needs so I can focus on my wants. And even if I don’t quite get what I thought I wanted, I have a sneaky suspicion the Rolling Stones were on to something: I might find it’s just what I need.
A note about whatever this is …
After writing a few thousand articles for newspapers and magazines, I spent a long time trying a bunch of other stuff. I guess I figured what came (relatively) easily must by definition be less valuable, so I wandered in the corporate wilderness, becoming increasingly frustrated and doing work that felt increasingly lousy.
Sometimes with age comes wisdom, and I’ve realized finding something (relatively) easy ain’t a bad thing. So, this is a space where I’m resurrecting writing for myself, on topics weird and wild and wonderful.
Posts will appear when the mood takes me, but I do try to be consistently inconsistent—sometimes it’ll be a couple of days between drinks; sometimes a week. But if you subscribe, you’ll get a email letting you know I’m ranting. Again.
I absolutely recognize the privilege of being able to focus on what I want because my needs are taken care of. It’s not something I take for granted.
This touches on something I’ve never understood here in the US: why the business community doesn’t rise up as one to advocate for single-payer healthcare. Healthcare in America is generally tied to employment—no job means no healthcare, so health benefits are a critical factor when people make decisions about which job to take (or not). A single-payer system would dramatically reduce costs for American business while encouraging greater entrepreneurship and employment dynamism. Or, put another way, greater freedom. What’s not to like?