Yesterday, again today, and very often I have had to confront the following unthought parodox in the minds of the ultra-affluent, who have made their money via well run business, "by the numbers." To a person they tell me:
- Metrics in business and fundraising, for that matter, are essential. It is the new social economy. Run it like a business, stupid!
- "Don't handle me, don't manage me, don't treat me like an ATM. Begin with learning a bit about me and my story, learn about my family and my beliefs, enlist me as a partner in the work, and help me achieve my vision for me, my family, and my community. Take your time, listen and reflect. Don't use me as if I were a tool. Immerse yourself in me and my world."
Up against these potential mega-donors are fundraisers with degrees in divinity, counselling, music, the arts, who have been routinized, beaten down, and trained to act like rinky dink package selling financial services reps, making cases, making asks, answering objections.
Yesterday, it was mega buck business minded man saying, "Hear my story before you jerk me around with your fundraising or sales routines." Today it was fundraisers, hearing my idealistic message who were cautioned by the convener who invited me, "Yes, what Phil says is fine, but remember your boss will test you by the metrics."
Metrics for Thee, Autonomy for me?" What could make more sense to a wealthy busines person than that? Totally consistent. Wealth Bondage here. Wealth Bondage there. Wealth Bondage everywhere. Under the boot, until you are promoted to kiss it. I only wish I could get that promotion! I know after 40 years of routinizing myself and servility as a minion reporting to minions that I have earned at least one lick of the Boot of all Boots, she who rules us all. Just to listen to her life story, her gospel of wealth, would be bliss. To enroll in her dream of a better life in a better world would fulfill the purpose for which I was put on earth. Get back to your fucking cubicle, you moron! This stupid fantasy of yours is theft of company time. You have as much chance of being my Trusted Boot Kisser as you have of becoming Pope. If I catch you blogging again on company time, you are out on your ass." Must scoot. Back to work ghostwriting her acceptance speech for Humanitarian of the Year at Davos.
My best advisor friends manage their psychic enonomy thus: "We should treat all well, we should relieve all human suffering." And then they start with the nearest billionaire, and not having yet relieved all suffering among billionaires, they have not yet worked on down to the suffering of centa-millionaires.
If moral philosophy were a dash board, and if religion were a dashboard, the idiot lights would be flashing red. This engine is going to seize up. You cannot run it this hot, by metrics, until the pushrod shoots through the engine wall and right through your own vitals. Ease up, breath, and recognize that the ameliorating the endemic suffering of billionaires is a God-Given signal, like rising seas - it won't end well. It is not a new Rennaissance; it is a sin against the holy ghost. Sorry, my computer is fading to black. I think she pulled the plug. I should have learned. How many lobotomies until I am at last well adusted? Hope it is covered under Cobra.