Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
How often have we heard this phrase?
And yet, we seem to have misconceptions about what it truly means.
On its face, this message is an edict that success is double-edged. It states that making it big means selling our soul. It tells us that who we are and who we want to be are forever incompatible.
Because once we attain a position of influence, our vantage point shifts. We conveniently forget what life was like before the climb.
All we see is our position on the summit. And we are determined to hold on to that spot.
We are immensely powerful. And we are thoroughly corrupted.
The prophecy fulfills itself.
And yet, the prophecy is a myth.
Across America, there is an uneasy divide.
This divide is Red States versus Blue States. It’s farmers in overalls versus Wall Street bankers in fancy suits. It’s bright city lights versus one-horse towns.
We have many ways to explain what forms this chasm. Political ideologies. Education systems. Community surroundings.
But I think there’s a better explanation.
I believe the fault lines form between those who aspire for influence and those who repel its grip.
For we are all aware of the perils of power. And we are cognizant of the unsavory ways it can transform us.
We’ve read the slogans. We’ve heard the cautionary tales.
And yet, some of us find ourselves drawn to power’s radiant glow, much like moths to a flame. All while others avoid it like the plague.
This explanation might seem crude. Rudimentary even. But it incorporates the great American X-factor: Mobility. It explains the rush of people heading to the big city to make their fortune. And it defines the counter-rush of city-dwellers heading to the suburbs for simpler living.
Our relationship to power flows both ways.
This leads to another question: What exactly is power?
It seems like a simple query at first. And yet, answers are lacking.
For power is an abstract concept, devoid of visualization.
There is no universal symbol, such as a sunburst for light or a heart for love. There are just the cultural vessels we have defined — in particular, wealth and fame.
Each of these vessels seem to fit the mold at first. Those who accumulate vast sums of money have plenty of options on how to spend it. Those bestowed with fame can bend fawning followers to their will.
And yet, one of them has proven far more corrosive than the other.
Greed is good.
This is the most iconic line from the 1987 movie Wall Street.
The film — and its antihero, Gordon Gecko — serves as a stark portrait of the ills of capitalism, wealth and fortune.
The implication is straightforward. Those who accumulate money will seek to double their returns at all costs, transforming from full-fledged members of society into sociopaths.
Sometimes, this portrait comes to life in horrifying detail. But not always.
There are more than 600 billionaires in the United States. Some of these names you know. But a bunch of others you probably don’t.
Why is that?
Could it be that our brains can only process so much information at once? Maybe.
But I think there’s more to it than that.
You see, some brash billionaires do put their name out there, letting their wallet or their ambitions inflate their ego. But many others resist such temptation. They try and live as anonymously as those with fewer commas on their balance sheets.
Sure, their clothes might be fancier than ours. And they might never know the struggle of living paycheck to paycheck. But they are far from the embodiment of Gordon Gecko.
In their case, greed is not good. In fact, greed is not part of the equation.
Fortune might not change everyone it touches.
But fame? Fame most certainly will.
We can lurk in the shadows, even with loads of cash in the bank. But once everyone knows our name, our lives are destined to profoundly change.
For fame is elusive. It can overtake us in an instant. But it doesn’t last for long.
The easy in, easy out nature of notoriety comes from our fragile attention spans. Humans are stimulated by novelty, and we seek it at every turn. Something that captivated us yesterday thoroughly bores us today.
These forces are wonderful news for those seeking to have their name in lights. They can help accelerate the rise to notoriety.
But once those people reach the pinnacle of fame, they’ll find those same forces working against them. The tide is rolling in. And the next big thing is charging full speed at them, ready to bury them alive.
No one who’s achieved such glamour wants to feel the humility of irrelevance. No one in this spot wants to see their star burn out.
And so, the newly-gilded fame-erati do what they can to hang on to their notoriety. They become belligerent. They pander. They toss aside rules of decorum.
And in the process, they lose every sense of who they were before the bright lights found them. They find themselves corrupted to the core.
One can still find balance when bestowed with great wealth. But fame? There is no redemption for fame.
I don’t aspire for wealth or fame.
Having enough to get by is sufficient for me. The virtues I espouse and the company I keep matter far more than any power or influence I might attain.
Yet, I feel confident that if I were to come into wealth, I would handle it appropriately. I would remain true to myself and to my values. I wouldn’t let my new net worth change my outlook.
Wealth isn’t enough to corrode the life I’ve built. But fame most certainly is.
I don’t feel like I’m all that different from others in this sense. I feel that most of us could take the mantle of fortune without evolving into monsters.
So, it’s time to dismantle the myth tethering power and corruption.
Notoriety might be doomed to the status of poison pill. But prosperity needn’t suffer the same fate.