In large, impersonal societies, it is difficult to gauge a person's character (virtue). Consequently, people seek status through easily observable metrics like wealth and achievement (success). This focus on quantifiable symbols of worth drives persistent status anxiety.

Existential angst is a luxury problem. A century ago, life's purpose was clear: survive. The comfort and freedom of modern life have removed physical struggles but introduced complex psychological ones, like finding meaning and identity, which are a hidden cost of progress.

For generations, increasing wealth allowed Western society to discard essential cultural norms like social trust and shared values. Now that economic growth is faltering, the catastrophic consequences of this "death of culture" are becoming fully visible.

Modern culture has transformed productivity from a performance metric into a measure of a person's deservingness and identity. This is dangerous because it falsely suggests hard work is the sole variable for success, ignoring systemic factors and harming well-being.

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.

When your entire sense of self is tied to your profession, you build a prison. Any threat to your work becomes a threat to your existence. A resilient identity is like a diversified portfolio, with investments in family, hobbies, and community, not just a single stock.

The popular goal of achieving financial independence to stop working is flawed. True happiness requires both independence (control over your time) and a sense of purpose (a reason to be productive). Lacking purpose after achieving financial freedom can lead to depression, as work itself can be a source of fulfillment.

When a defining career ends, the biggest struggle is often existential, not financial. Our culture fuses identity with profession ('what you do is who you are'), creating a vacuum when the job is gone. This leads to profound questions of self-worth, value, and purpose that transcend money.

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.