If I Were A Rich Man

A certain kind of rich man afflicted with the symptoms of moral dandyism sooner or later comes to the conclusion that it isn't enough merely to make money. He feels obliged to hold views, to espouse causes and elect Presidents, to explain to a trembling world how and why the world went wrong. -Lewis H. Lapham, editor and writer.

Unfortunately, that's not the whole story. Too often he begins to believe that he actually knows something. Something beyond what it was that helped him make (or inherit) money. And others believe it, too. His self-delusion is shared by those yearning to be like him.

The most important men in town would come to fawn on me!
They would ask me to advise them,
Like a Solomon the Wise.
"If you please, Reb Tevye..."
"Pardon me, Reb Tevye..."
Posing problems that would cross a rabbi's eyes! (From Fiddler on the Roof, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick)

That's the problem. If you're rich, people think you know something, and so do you. And if you're rich you can afford a platform from which to proclaim your message.

That's not the only platform of course. Friends, Romans and countrymen eagerly lend their ears to those whom they admire – very often stars in entertainment, or heroic athletes. For some reason we automatically attribute wisdom to those we idolize, even if for reasons completely unrelated to the issue in question.

What's in a name? Everything. People buy Air Jordans^®; they take beauty advice from super models, and political advice from movie stars. Sometimes a familiar name and an admired personality can attract followers. We're a wannabe society and we imitate those who are rich or beautiful or famous. Sometimes, though not very often, the famous are also wise. Ronald Reagan's popularity won him the governorship of California and, with the experience and platform that office gave him, he moved up to the Presidency, and did reasonably well for our country in that position. Most of the time, however, prominence or stardom is unassociated with good sense. (Think Sean Penn, Jane Fonda, and Dennis Rodman.)

And, while also often lacking good sense, the media control people's thinking on a wide variety of subjects. They have the broadest platform of all, and even though most people claim that they don't trust journalists and the press, their sources of information – right or wrong – sway voters. As do those with loud voices.

We're easily influenced. We may claim to be independent thinkers, but if we hear something often enough and loud enough we believe it. And if what we hear is something we already believe, if our biases are confirmed, we become deaf to counter-arguments, no matter how logical they may be. In a time of dissatisfaction, a populist with a loud voice becomes the spokesman for the disillusioned; and the means for advertising his opinion – money, notoriety, and a loud voice, for example – trump experience, tact, and wisdom. He thinks he has all the answers, and his followers believe him.

And it won't make one bit of difference if I answer right or wrong.
When you're rich, they think you really know!

Sheldon Harnick was as much a philosopher as a lyricist. And he was certainly a perceptive viewer of human nature. Hidden in his homily about the situation in eastern Europe so much earlier, he described a danger to American society; indeed, a reality about all societies. It is our assumption that those who succeed – or are believed to have succeeded – know everything, and that we know nothing. But some of those “successes” are the know-nothings. And if we can get beyond our own disillusionment, we can see that.