If I’m honest about … generosity
My husband has a theory about billionaires.
The minute someone’s net worth crosses into billionaire territory, they should have one month to get themselves back under the threshold by giving the excess away. If they don’t, they lose the lot.
He has thought about this extensively. There is clearly a policy document somewhere in his head, along with rules for enforcement and a probably unnecessary amount of consideration about what happens to the money afterwards.
I find it amusing and idealistic, but as arsehole billionaires get richer, destabilise the economy, wreck the planet and detonate creative ventures, I think he might be onto something. The world doesn’t need billionaires.
I say this as someone who is not remotely close to being one. We have four kids, we’re self-employed and one of us works in the arts, which is a particularly charming way to make a living if you enjoy running a business on the whiff of an oily rag.
We do just fine. We pay our bills. We have family holidays when possible, although nobody is confusing them with a Kardashian itinerary. If we want something expensive, we save for it. Recently, we’ve paid for two ACL surgeries, which is an excellent way to witness how that desired walk-in robe upgrade becomes new knees.
We have a nice life. And one of the things I like about having a nice life is being able to give some of it away. We donate to causes we care about. When there are local fundraising drives or appeals, we contribute what we can. It’s never a large sum but it’s always something.
Generosity isn’t only money. Often, it’s time or expertise. It’s helping someone work something out because you happen to know how. It’s giving someone your Saturday afternoon when they really need the help. Sometimes it’s a meal dropped at a neighbour’s door, or picking a child up because you’re already going that way.
None of this feels particularly virtuous. It’s simply part of being in a family, a friendship group, a community. Which is why I find our obsession with billionaire philanthropy slightly odd. We have somehow decided that the pinnacle of generosity is becoming unimaginably wealthy and then giving some of that money away.
Enter Dolly Parton.
She grew up in poverty in rural Tennessee, one of twelve children in a family with very little money. Her belief in books and education became the basis for one of her most extraordinary acts of generosity. The Imagination Library.
The idea is beautifully simple. Children receive a free book every month from birth until they start school, regardless of their family’s circumstances. What began in Dolly’s home county has grown into an international program distributing millions of books. Imagine being a kid and having a book arrive in the letterbox every month!
There’s something about that which hits me right in the chest. A child doesn’t have to know their family is struggling and the family doesn’t have to explain why they deserve help.
Dolly used her wealth for good not evil!
She supported students through graduation payments and covered tuition for her Dollywood staff. When devastating wildfires tore through Tennessee in 2016, she established a fund to help families who had lost their homes.
Dolly’s philanthropy was personal. She understood the communities she supported and remained closely connected to the people her money was intended to help. Her wealth was useful because it converted into something tangible: a book in a child’s hands or money helping a family rebuild after disaster.
That, to me, is generosity at its best.
I understand the argument for billionaires being the biggest donors. Someone with an enormous fortune can fund medical research, establish foundations and write cheques that make an immediate difference. Those things matter.
Source Honestly, fellas, do something useful for society!
What troubles me is the idea that we need billionaires to solve problems for the rest of us. I would rather live in a society where generosity is spread widely. Spare money is given to someone who needs it. A person with useful knowledge shares it. We look after the people around us because we can make something easier for them.
Most of us will never have a billionaire’s or Dolly’s wealth but we can still give what we have. The gift might be tiny from our perspective and enormous from someone else’s.
My husband’s theory, when you strip away the comedy of his imaginary Billionaire Enforcement Agency, is really about the idea of enough.
How much money does a person actually need? At what point does having more stop making much difference to your own life?
I suspect the answer is different for everyone. I do like the idea of a life where there is enough to look after your own family and still have something left over for someone else.
Dolly Parton did something useful with her wealth, and her legacy lives on far beyond her music.
Perhaps that’s the lesson. We don’t need to aspire to billionaire wealth so that one day we can become generous. We can start with what we have.
And if my husband ever gets his billionaire policy in front of the Federal Treasurer, I’ll be sitting beside him. Mostly for entertainment. Also because I think he might be onto something.
Kylie
xx
