The subjective experience of suffering can be worse for those who are poor amidst extreme wealth (e.g., homeless in San Francisco) than for those in an environment of shared, absolute poverty. The constant, stark comparison of one's own failure against others' success can create a mental anguish that outweighs objective material hardship.
Happiness isn't dictated by your objective situation but by the context you place it in. A Nokia phone is amazing until you see an iPhone; poverty is a state until you see wealth next door. Freeing yourself from constant comparison is key to finding intrinsic contentment.
The distorted perception of one's financial health, or 'money dysmorphia,' is not exclusive to the financially insecure. A significant portion of Americans earning over $100k annually do not consider themselves wealthy, revealing a stark disconnect between financial reality and perception fueled by online comparisons to extreme wealth.
The depression of someone chasing wealth is often buffered by the hope that money will solve their problems. The true psychological danger comes *after* achieving financial success, when you realize your non-money problems persist. This can lead to a profound and debilitating sense of hopelessness.
Despite living with unprecedented wealth, many in the West feel a 'cost of living crisis.' This is because human happiness is dictated by a narrow frame of reference—we compare ourselves to our immediate peers, not to the global population or to past generations. Our sense of well-being is relative, not absolute.
Historically, financial comparison was contained within socioeconomically similar neighborhoods. Social media removes these geographic and social barriers, constantly exposing individuals to global, hyper-affluent lifestyles. This distorts the perception of 'normal,' making luxury seem common and fueling widespread feelings of financial inadequacy.
A major source of modern anxiety is the tendency to benchmark one's life against a minuscule fraction of outliers—the world's most famous and wealthy people. This creates a distorted view of success. Shifting focus to the vast majority of humanity provides a healthier perspective.
The discomfort felt by those from lower-income backgrounds around the wealthy is not just envy, but a deep-seated frustration. It stems from the belief that those who grew up with money can sympathize but never truly empathize with the constant stress and lack of a safety net that defines life without it.
Unprecedented global prosperity creates a vacuum of real adversity, leading people to invent anxieties and fixate on trivial problems. Lacking the perspective from genuine struggle, many complain about first-world issues while ignoring their immense privilege, leading to a state where things are 'so good, it's bad.'
This concept, 'prevalence-induced concept change,' shows that as significant problems decrease, our brains don't experience fewer issues. Instead, we expand our definition of a 'problem' to include minor inconveniences, making neutral situations seem threatening. This explains why comfort can paradoxically increase perceived hardship.
In a truly meritocratic system, failure isn't attributed to bad luck but is seen as a reflection of personal inadequacy. This removes external explanations for struggle, making failure profoundly shameful and psychologically damaging compared to cultures that believe in fate.