Deviant theory
By Dana Wilde

I have a theory. Actually I have a lot of theories, as my family and colleagues
will nervously tell you. But this theory, I think, is more closely tuned to planet
Earth than others.
My theory is this: Most people are nowhere near as interested in money as we're
led to believe.
This is what I mean:
Huge numbers of news stories are about money, on the assumption that's what
we want to hear about. But how many people actually care about the $10.4 billion
ExxonMobil made in three months? That number is barely real. But what does get
people's attention is the feeling that some of the money was simply stolen. It's not
the money, but the theft that matters. When a millionaire donates millions for
sports programs, we are bombarded with dollar figures; but it's not the money
that interests most people - it's the generosity.
A couple of years ago the British government issued a report saying global
warming threatens the world's economy. The goal was to get America's attention
on the climate before a "disaster … in our lifetime." This is a new argument:
concede it's a truth we all hold as self-evident that the economy (i.e., money) is
more important than the environment, and reason that protecting the
environment prevents damage to the economy.
Of course, some people just love money itself. Good for them. That's their
business. But the trouble is, some of them work hard to convince the rest of us that
money is our main interest, too. Somehow, surrounded by it, we assume it must be
true.
But I think the endless talk of money fatigues most people. It seems fascinating at
first, but it gets repetitious and boring, like pornography. This column today is
getting boring because it has yet to mention a single image from the natural world
where we actually live.
For decades, many teenagers have been enraged without knowing why. Part of it
is because they're bored, and one reason they're bored is because adults teach
them the goal of everything they do is to make money. Playing in the school band
builds your resume, which leads to college, which leads to a job, which is the last
detour to acquiring money. But what could be more boring to a 17-year-old whose
inner life is awakening and by reflex seeking human meaning, and for whom
music has revealed itself to be powerfully meaningful? The meaning of playing in
the school band is that it might lead to a good-paying job? Get away from me.
My theory is that most people remember the feeling that music is more
meaningful than money long after they leave school. But since the love of money
is upheld all around them as a virtue, they feel a civic duty to parrot the notion.
Even though they know (although it's impolite to say so) that the love of money
has damaged sports, politics, music and most of what it touches in any quantity.
Having interests that supersede money is not deviant behavior. It's what you're
doing that's meaningful, and where your thoughts and feelings live while you're
doing it.
I find the bombardment of stories about money wearying. The universe is
immense. We have responsibilities to it that are more real than the cash. A handful
of stars have changed the way I live. In my trees whole worlds are in play. After
listening to them sing for years, I'm pretty sure birds are conscious beings. Not one
of them has a penny.


© Dana Wilde 2007
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