Since 2004, I have stood in the street, naked in all weather, by the Dumpster out behind Wealth Bondage, providing values based planning to any wealthy person who passes by, and to many who don't. I operate on a pay-it-forward model. That is, I give away my moral advice pro bono publico, in the hopes that the wealthy person who has a mind shift (i.e. repents of his or her Bondage to Wealth) will see fit to double back and give me some kind of award, maybe a genius grant, or at least enough for a cup of coffee. So far, having counseled (by chasing their limos or yelling at the television set in the department store windows, or talking quietly and reasonably to their picture in the newspaper) Presidents of Great Nations, CEOs of Fortune 100 Companies, the Strumpets of the Media, and my fellow Advisors in Philanthropy my net receipts are $0 dollars, three bottles thrown at me, and more beatings than I care to count. This in a nation that prides itself on family values, and in a profession where aligning meaning with money is the name of the big dollar game.
Why do people give alms to the merest beggar, but not to a moral philosopher down on his luck? Asked that question, Diogenes replied, "Because they think they may one day be lame or blind, but never expect that they will turn to philosophy." I myself am sometimes aghast that I have sunk so low. If I get clean and sober maybe I can get a job mentoring wealthy convicts in some half way house. "Well," say the rich, when I ask for a handout, "virtue is its own reward." Meaning, "Get lost!" I should have gone for the MBA.