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Dynastic Family Unity in Dante's Inferno

In Dante's Inferno we might meet a few families who had maintained their unity and their wealth across five or more generations by passing on the family values of avarice, cunning, cruelty, and control. Now they burn together in hell. Do we, as Morals Tutors, Family Dynamics Consultants, Secular Priests and modern day courtiers, do our billionaire clients any favors by setting them up for eternal damnation? Philanthropy, and concern for the body politic is not a 'family value,' it is the second Commandment - 'Love they neighbor,' broadly considered. We don't discover a family's moral and civic obligations by having them sort values cards, or create a mission statement to suit themselves. I know that what got written there is wrong, and is in fact reprehensible; I cannot deny I typed it, or heard it in my head like my own thoughts. My values are to go along to get along with those who pay me, or who might beat me with a stick. I only wish I could block these intrusive thoughts.

Audrey's Secret Subtext

A Trusted Advisor's work is never done. One step forward one step back. Preparing certain Heirs I could name would try the patience of a Saint.

Audrey, at nap time, tells Tutor she wants to "revisit" (a new word she picked up from Momma) her family motto: "Own Rule Save." (It is emblazoned on the family escutcheon under the earth floating in space).Tutor is exasperated. "No, Audrey, first we do the motto, then vision, then  mission, then strategies, then  tactics, then timeline, and metrics. We already put the motto on the Castle flag, kid. You have it flying over your toy box, too. It is even on your T-Shirt. We can't just go changing it. It doesn't really matter anyway; it is just public relations. Who cares, anyway?"

"It does so matter, Tutor, I care, and I want to add something," Audrey insists. "Why?," Tutor asks. "Because people, like Master Jack, are always picking on me because I a little," says Audrey. "Ok, so what are the three new words?," asks Tutor. Audrey clenching her right fist and pounding her left palm says, "And Get Even." So altogether the updated motto would read, "Own Rule Save And Get Even." Tutor notes that is a more grown up motto, to be sure. Without getting even with enemies it would be hard to own, rule, save the world. "But," he points out to Audrey, "you only get to have three official words, like Pepsi: People Planet Profit," "Momma says I can't have Pepsi because it makes me hyper and rots my teeth," Audrey says, but you are just trying to change the subject."

Audrey (you can imagine her in t-shirt, faded pink corduroy play pants, and athletic shoes) goes to her toy-box and gets her Rhinestone Tiara and Joan of Arc sword. "I shall be your Queen, Tutor, one day soon, and I want three more words. You are my Servant, Tutor and you will behave as one. I have spoken. Kneel!" So, Tutor thinking fast, kneels, and with grizzled head  bowed, confides in Audrey that the flag already has all six words. Audrey pulls her t-shirt out, looks down, and sees he is lying. "Do you take me for a Fool, Fool?" "No, your Highness, all six are there but 'And Get Even' is invisible! You looked and you could not see it, could you? That's because it is invisible. You were not supposed to know! But you are so so smart you imagined the very words that were always there!"

"Look, kid," Tutor continues, "I know you can't let people pick on you. Of course you have to get even. Who understands that better than I do? That is why Momma has a Dungeon. That is why she hired me, as your Body Guard and Mentor. That is why I have the cauldrons of fire down in the dungeon always heating up the red hot pokers. That is why we have vats of acid. That is why Momma keeps Seal Team 7. That is why she has litigators by the thousands on retainer. That is why she has her own Super-PAC. Nobody messes with Momma. But you don't fly that on the flag. People just know it. We call that a 'Secret Subtext,' ok? Half of the values have to be hidden. Otherwise it is not a real motto. You are not supposed to know that, yet. You are only 9.6. I wasn't supposed to tell you until you turned 21. But you are so smart and powerful, kid, you figured it out for yourself, so I had to tell you now!" Audrey is satisfied. "Arise, Tutor, thou servest me well, varlet." "Don't tell Momma I told you, ok?, Audrey, I am supposed to keep you in the dark about stuff like that until you are all grown up and ready to bust heads like Momma does on Wall Street. So pretend you don't know, ok? Pretend to be just a kid for now, ok?"

Audrey, satisfied with current state of silliness,  a Well Prepared Hare, has gone on to the next game, bouncing around the room like a rabbit, front paws extended. All is well in her world.

God Save Good Queen Audrey!

"Phil," The Happy Tutor wrote me yesterday, from the Castle by Sea, in Scotland, where he mentors the world's richest child, Audrey, age 9.6, a gifted red-haired hellion, "I respect that you are an American, reared to believe in your upstart democracy, but have you been following the presidential debates? Are you able, finally, to see that Aristocracy, capped by a capable Monarch, is far preferable, than rule by the rabble, of the rabble, for the rabble, whipped up by demagogues, in service to wealthy families who pull the strings?" I honestly don't agree with Tutor, who comes from an old family in England. I believe that though democracy is in decline, there may still some dim hope for a revival. But I take his point, that a world in which we are ruled by Good Queen Audrey, an heir who will inherit a controlling interest in the world, and whose motto is Own Rule Save, is not all bad. If Tess, her mother, continues to consolidate her gains, and gets good dynastic planning advice, and if Tutor gets Audrey's moral vision squared away, we may yet have a New Golden Age of Monarchy. For World Class Fools like Tutor and me, this would be a great career achievement; we would be the most important Court Fools in human history. We may not have democracy, but we can keep Carnival, and employ the Politicians in a Punch and Judy capacity. We could still have voting, if we wanted; it would not change anything, like now. But the votes, as expressing the will of the people, could go up to Queen Audrey who will decide what is best for us. She will take good care of what she owns. God Save Good Queen Audrey!

Sidebar on Extreme Wealth Planning - Insert in "Audrey Saves the World"

The field of what might be called "Extreme Wealth Planning" (for so called "flourishing families" with net worth in the hundreds of millions and up) is evolving from narrow but deep technical expertise, to humane learning as guidance system for advanced planning teams, or family offices, or multi-family offices. The new thought leaders have degrees, often in law or finance, but resting upon undergraduate and graduate degrees in fields like history, sociology, psychology, philosophy, and often divinity. Me, too. So it takes one to know one, and it takes one to call us out for what we are and for the dangers we are running. Be it said, I am drunkard, a coward, and an opportunist. Whatever gifts God has given me I have squandered. I would rather be wealthy than wise, and what am I now but broke and insane? Take my views below not as those of the Omniscient Narrator, that is a sorry joke, but as the wretched man in the dumpster. Diogenes with a hangover.

We are not the first society with concentrated wealth and an inner circle of gentlemen and ladies who advise it. Roman satire, English Augustan satire, the plays of Shakespeare, the vanitas tradtion in poetry and sermon, Castiglione's Book of the Courtier, Boethius, Dante's Inferno, Gogol's Dead Souls, the plays and stories of Chekkov, the paintings of Goya, all go the corruption of spirituality and humanity in service to great wealth. As we enter this field of forces offering up our learning, divinity degrees, therapy degrees, philosophy degrees, lit crit degrees, and ability as teachers, preachers, therapists, moral mentors, secular priests, and shamans, we should recognize the moral dangers. Shaman as Charlatan. Service to God and Mammon as simony, the mortal sin of selling holy things. We come also to the question of unconscious incompetence. We come to the question of professional standards. We come to the question of ego enlargement, grandiosity, and narcissism. We come to the question of credulity. We come to the questions taste, good and bad. We do not have the professional venues, nor standards, in which we call each other out, without giving offense. This bodes ill for the emerging field of humane wealth planning. The core virtue is humility. The first principal is "to do no harm." The best of cures for what ails us, the plague of ego inflation, is laughter. At ourselves first and foremost. We are on a Fool's errand and the funny part is how seriously we go about it, pending our pratfall.

I am very sorry I wrote that. I am sorry it even occurred to me.  I am going to be even more sorry, when I hit "Publish Now." I know I need help. Everyone tells me so. All the free advice a man could want. But will any of you, the virtuous and wise, with a billing rate of $5,000-10,000 a day, take the time to heal my soul, for free? I guess healing the rich is probably more highly leveraged, and could do more good. Every market clears at a price. And on the margins the trash piles up. Forgive me. I am not having a good day. Strong meds, alcohol and despair don't mix. I wish I had read less as a young man, or been less susceptible to it. Bits keep coming to mind, the voices of so many authors, and the muses, too, I think, or the fates, or the harpies, and they have driven me mad, I fear.

The Giving Way to Happiness: Stories and Science Behind the Life-Changing Power of Giving

For both advisors and donors, Jenny Santi, CAP, has written an eloquent, informed, and empathetic account of giving. Her focus is very wealthy donors, including hedge fund managers, high tech leaders, and celebrities, but she is not focused on wealth, nor on the management of it. She is focused on joy, or fulfillment. Working in this odd niche (philanthropy around the globe), starting young, she has observed the many ways that giving is a balm for old wounds, or antidote to depression, or a cure for the blahs of having all needs met. Where other talk about results, or the tools and techniques of giving, Jenny has research the psychology of happiness, altruism, kindness and care. Yet, I suspect, she saw in donors that joy, before she began to research the neuroscience. Where many are awed by wealth or obsequious to it, Jenny is almost like philanthropy-fan, who just loves the whole topic. Her informants have opened up to her, it seems, because she has entered imaginatively into their world, seeing them as they see themselves, as agents for the good. The final chapter, "Your Turn: The Action Plan for Happy Giving,"  is my favorite. Jenny begins that chapter with a list of the frustrations many givers feel, when a gift does not mesh with their passion, aspirations, family traditions, moral identity, and life history. Then, in the closing pages she more or less blurts out the best short list of pointers I have seen on creating a heartfelt, compassionate, effective and satisfying giving plan. Certain points are ones I have not heard before, "Find your Tribe," for example, and "Accept Gratitude." Jenny's credentials and experience (as banker and now and independent philanthropic consultant) are stellar, but what comes across is her humanity. (She has taken the credential I teach, Chartered Advisor in Philanthropy, and I am proud of it. The best part of being a teacher is when the student becomes the teacher's teacher.) An excellent book to learn from, if you are a donor, and a fine book for financial advisors to pass on to clients, to help them think through their own philanthropy.

Auditing Audrey's Worth as a Person

Well, Master Jack is not in the Dungeon for using the B-Word, but he is not exactly in Momma's good graces, either.  He is in a grown up version of a "time out," confined to his quarters, as most Trusted Advisor, above the Buttery. Tutor, as Interim Morals Tutor, has been studying  Family Wealth, a classic Text for Advisors to Uber-Wealth, to help keep Audrey in the chips, and her heirs, too, for at least 100 years, a basic hurdle for any dynasty, and far less than her predecessor in the Old Castle, whose family went back to before the time of Shakespeare.

To preserve Dynasty wealth must serve the Family' excellences or virtues. Otherwise Wealth will be squandered. The first step, then, in preserving Momma's Dynasty is an Audit of Audrey's Four Capitals. Tutor goes to the Easel with the Flip Pad. Audrey, under the terms of her plea bargain, after the Annie Oakley incident, is condemned to one hour a week of these Morals Tutorials, from a "qualified moral authority," who better than The Happy Tutor, an ordained Monk, and good friend of Rabelais and Friar Tuck, too, for that matter, if you go back far enough.

"Ready, Pumpkin? I have to find out what you are really worth so I can help you become an even bigger asset to your family than you already are. We can do that either by increasing your Worth, or decreasing your Liabilities. Got that?"

Audrey has learned a new trick, "boinking." She may have learned it from the seditious Selma, the kid from the kitchens. Anyway, to "boink," Audrey opens her jaw wide, and uses her knuckles to boink the top of her skull, producing a hollow reverberation, as if a coconut were emptied of milk, then tapped, boink, boink.

To signal her comprehension of the Learning Objectives, Audrey boinks her empty noggin.

"So, Audrey, first we have your Financial Capital. What do you own at this point?"

Audrey has the remainder of her allowance, $8 in small grubby bills, and her lucky penny. She owes no one anything so that is a net amount. Tutor makes a T-Chart entry accordingly.

"But Audrey is Wealth your only Capital? Do you have more assets than just money?"

"Boink boink" Audrey goes,  shaking her head.  

"No, no, no, kid, you have other Capitals, too. Like you have Social Capital. Remember when Momma had the all the Presidential Candidates come to the Castle and do a debate to entertain Master Jack and his friends, who pitched pennies and made them dance? That is her social capital. Her connections. How she gets things done. And she has much more. Everyone wants to trade favors with Momma. And she is a patron of the Arts, she gets the best singers and dancers, and clowns to entertain us. Well, that might be artistic capital, but I am keeping this simple, because you are just a kid. What is your social capital? Do you have any?"

Audrey stares empty faced like a girl whose brains have been emptied from her skull.

"Listen, you have Rex? Right?"

"Boink."

"And Momma?"

"Boink"

"And me?"

"Boink?"

"Anyone else?"

"Boink, Boink"

"Is it someone I know?"

"Boink"

"Master Jack?"

Silence, catatonic stare.

"Is it a grown up?"

Silence

"A kid?

"Boink."

"Is it Selma?"

"Boink, boink, boink."

"So, you have social capital. Does anyone hate you?"

"Boink"

"Master Jack?"

"Boink, Boink"

"Well he is just mad because you got him in trouble on purpose with Momma. He will get over it. So, let us say you have net positive social capital. Now we come to your Intellectual Capital. Do you know anything at all?

"Boink,"

"Well it sure sounds empty, so let us agree that your Intellectual Capital is zero. I mean you probably know some stuff that is true and some that is not. So let's call it even, shall we?

"Boink, Boink,"

"So now we must assess your spiritual capital, ok? Do you know right from wrong? Sort of? How about the Ten Commandments? Do you like any of them? Love Momma? God? How about coveting? Are you ever greedy? No? How about Owning the Whole World, isn't that greedy?"

"No! Tutor," says Audrey, rubbing her sore skull, "I don't want to own the world to be greedy. I want to own it so I can rule it and save it, like I saved Rex, right boy?"

Tutor looks at the clock. Officially, she has 52 minutes left in the Punitive Hour, but he is out of moral-sounding ideas. So, he teaches her the basics of poker. At the end of the hour, she is up from $8 dollars to $11. Gaming might be considered a vice, but it is a pretty good business too, for a kid who wants to own, rule, and save the world as it really is.

Lost and Found

Where is Audrey? The hope of the world, a menace to herself and others, has disappeared. Has she once again commandeered a boat and gone to IHOP on the mainland? Has she drowned in the sea? Could she be all the way down in dungeons, so dark and dank? Could she have been kidnapped? Is she being held for ransom? The Security Team, formerly Seal Team 7, are scrambled on air and sea, and beneath the sea.

Where is Audrey? Rex, if only he were a bloodhound. Well, at least he is a dog. Tutor gives Fred, the bedraggled purple monster,  to Rex to put him on the scent. Rex, proud of his role as potential rescuer, sniff and hunts, up and down the stairs, catching the scent. Down, they go, he and Tutor, down the winding stairs from the Royal Quarters, down to the classroom and Chapel level, down to the Esteemed Guest Quarters, down to the Great Hall level adjacent to the Library and Trophy Room, down to the Kitchens, then down to the Servant's Quarters, then down to the upper dungeon level, and Tutor's cell, then lower, lower, into the darkness, far below sea level, where Tutor thought he could hear screams, but it was just his bad conscience, and the memory of "Tutorials" for the disloyal and the wicked long dead. Then up the staircase, Rex leading and straining on his leash, on the scent..... into the kitchen. Tutor thinks he spies Audrey from a distance, standing up straight, her back against the broom closest. But no, it is not Audrey at all. A girl her age and size to be sure, but not Audrey. This other kid has brown skin, black hair, and big dark eyes. That is Selma, the daughter of the cook's assistant, Luciana. Does Selma know where Audrey is? She shakes her head, no. She does not. For sure? No. But Rex is going wild sniffing, and scratching at the broom closet, pawing on his hind legs, yelping, tail wagging furiously. "Selma, is Audrey hiding in there?" "No," Selma lies. "She is not." But when the closet is opened, who is there standing up tall, but Audrey herself. "I missed you, too, Rex." Reunion is the sweetest affirmation of self.  To be gone and to come back. The Prodigal Kid has returned, though as Wise Master Jack points out, a good kid would never have hidden herself in the first place, putting the whole Security Team into high alert, at considerable cost to the Exchequer.

"Don't send me back to the middle class!, O please, not the middle class, O please!" pleads Audrey.  Now this time, it is Wise Master Jack who loses it, and shouts, "You ungrateful little bitch....." And, Momma hears the "B-Word," and now it is Master Jack on his knees begging not to have to return to the Middle Class, as Audrey snickers and dances with glee.

The Most Bedraggeld of Stuffed Animals

Purple, not quite clear what kid of animal, fur dirty, stringy and greasy - Where did the stuffed animal come from, clutched by Audrey at bedtime, her lovely expensive toys neglected? Why is this filthy purple monster her new favorite, to accompany her everywhere? A mystery that must remain a mystery, because Audrey is not telling. "Did you find it outside the Castle somewhere?," Tutor asks. She shakes her head, no. "Did someone give it to you?" She just looks, face stony, toy clutched. "What is the animal's name?" Long pause. "Fred." "Do you think Fred needs a bath?" Momma from her easy chair says, "Fred needs more than a bath, he needs fumigation. Where did you ever find Fred?" But no intel is forthcoming. Secrets make a self. Even a kid gets to have some. So, Fred joins Rex, two of kind, as guardians at the top (Fred) and bottom (Rex) of Audrey's bed.

Strange kid in Paradise

 A lot has been happening in the Castle by the Sea, so I will just fill you in with a few quick notes. For one, Tutor found Audrey in tears, not of grief, but of rage yesterday, about 4 pm. She had been having her Mandatory Morals Tutorial with Wise Master Jack, SVP of the Private Client Services, on loan from The Wealth and Wisdom Division of The Bank of Wealth Bondage. (Audrey was sentenced in Juvenile Court to "Morals Tutorials weekly from a person of impeccable probity," after the Annie Oakley incident at her school, as an alternative to detention in a reform school.) Master Jack had her write The Family Values on the Blackboard over and over. "Own Rule Save." After about three iterations, Audrey blew up and said, "When I own and rule the world, I am going to save it," then she pointed at him imperiously, "from assholes like you!" Wise Master Jack said that if she keeps that up he is going to have her deported back to the middle class," where the lost girls like her belong.

Tutor asked her why she is so mad. She said, "Because Master Jack made me mad. That makes me mad at me. I want to make him mad so he has to go back to the middle class. Tutor, what is the middle class? What happens to kids there? Do I have to go back? Will Momma come, too? I don't want to go back to the middle class. I want to stay here in the Castle with you, Momma, and Rex."

Tutor assures her that with net worth of 51% of the world's assets, to be held in Trust at the Fiduciary Services Division of  The Bank of Wealth Bondage until the Trump of Doom, there is zero chance she will spend even one moment of her life in the middle class. "Don't worry about it, kid;  the Master Jacks of this world come and go. Vast wealth is eternal. You can buy all the wisdom you need, Pumpkin, now you have an allowance. How much wisdom do you want?" Audrey snuggles into Tutor's lap. "I got my lucky penny, would that be enough?" "That is more than enough, kid, now give it here, and I will sing you a song that Rabelais, the Court Physician, taught me years ago in this very Castle by the Sea. It has some bad language, though, so don't tell Momma I taught it to you, ok? Well it should be ok, because it is in Greek. Keep the penny. This song is priceless...." And he began to sing this drinking song from the old days. (As you can easily see, it does not contain bad language, though it does reference pagan gods.)

Ζεὺς μὲν τῆσδε πόληος ὑπειρέχοι αἰθέρι ναίων
  αἰεὶ δεξιτέρην χεῖρ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἀπημοσύνῃ,
ἄλλοι τ᾽ ἀθάνατοι μάκαρες θεοί· αὐτὰρ Ἀπόλλων
  ὀρθώσαι γλῶσσαν καὶ νόον ἡμέτερον·    760
φόρμιγξ δ᾽ αὖ φθέγγοιθ᾽ ἱερὸν μέλος ἠδὲ καὶ αὐλός·
  ἡμεῖς δὲ σπονδὰς θεοῖσιν ἀρεσσάμενοι
πίνωμεν, χαρίεντα μετ᾽ ἀλλήλοισι λέγοντες,
  μηδὲν τὸν Μήδων δειδιότες πόλεμον.
ὧδ᾽ εἶναι ἄμεινον, ἐύφρονα θυμὸν ἔχοντας    765
  νόσφι μεριμνάων εὐφροσύνως διάγειν
τερπομένους· τηλοῦ δὲ κακὰς ἀπὸ κῆρας ἀμῦναι,
  γῆράς τ᾽ οὐλόμενον καὶ θανάτοιο τέλος.

Vulcan Mind Meld (For Audrey's Standardized Testing)

Audrey had been “tested” by Master Jack who was her Home Schooling Teacher after the Annie Oakley incident at 4th grad prep school, leading to Audrey being expelled, and just avoiding the Terror Watch List. No school will have her now. Master Jack, before Tutor got to the Castle, had given her age appropriate standardized English and Math tests, of 100 questions, multiple choice, four possible answers per question. On English she got a score of 1 out of 100. The lowest score on record worldwide. On math she managed a 0 out of 100, on the multiple guess format, for the Advanced Placement. Jack has told Tess she is, technically speaking, a “high functioning idiot.” She cannot be taught. All help is remedial. How sad that a math genius like Tess has a math-idiot for a child! Master Jack will Prepare the Heir, which is his job and calling, but allowances must be made for Audrey's mental deficiencies. Jack can only do so much.

Tutor tells Tess he can “fix” Audrey's brain within the hour, in fact within the next few minutes. Asked how, he says, “Vulcan mind meld.” Derision greets him from Jack. Tess assumes he is playing the Fool, as is his wont.  So, to show seriousness, Tutor bets Master Jack one month of their respective stipends ($15,000 a month honorarium for Jack as Most Trusted Advisor, Secular Priest, and Mentor to Heir vs. Tutor’s monthly stipend of $100, as Catholic Friar in Residence, World class Fool, and Surrogate Dad) that Audrey will, after a mind meld, score in the top 1% in the world for test takers her age. Jack to proctor and grade. All fair and square. Game on!

Tutor then absents himself and joins Audrey in her room. Master Jack is her “Mentor” and nemesis. There is little she would not do to frustrate him. (“He calls me Princess, don’t ever, ever do that! You can call me Pumpkin if you have to, but not Princess, ok? Promise?”) So, Tutor explains the bet and whispers to her how the Vulcan Mind Meld works. High fives!

Momma and Jack enter for the moment of truth, Jack with two tests in cellophane and one number 2 pencil, and his gold pocket watch. (He is old school.) Tutor bends his head down, down towards Audrey's red haired skull. When he touches her skull with the tip of his grey head, an enormous charge must have leapt between them like a spark, given how Audrey twitches, writhes and dances about, totally stunned, groaning and swooning like someone healed of a brain tumor at an old time revival. Then she sits down, holding her lap-desk, a melamine top attached to a green beanbag. Her feet, are outstretched. Tutor, to maintain the massive electric current, sits with his big feet touching hers.

Jack, scowling like The Evaluator he is, provides the math test, cautioning Audrey not to break the seal until so instructed. She has two hours. Any questions? None, it seems. “You may now break the seal.” Audrey does. Removes the wrapper, and does nothing, She just sits there. Then Tutor feels her left foot pressing on his right foot, like an accelerator, pedal to the metal. The kid becomes a blur of intensity. Eyes slitted, hand zipping along, tongue protruding, like when Rex chases a tennis ball. She is bubbling in answers faster than you can see, no thought, none, must be totally random. In four minutes, finished. “Done, Sir!,” she says in her best Shirley Temple voice. Another day, another mockery made of authority. But it is her future, if she wants to throw it all away. Jack sniffs and shakes his head sadly at Momma, as if to say, “I told you she was intransigent.”

Then the scene repeats with the English test.

Finished Audrey assumes her “ready for fun or trouble” pose, crouching down with her bottom below her knees, front paws raised. From this pose she can be a rabbit bouncing, or she can crook elbows and waddle like a duck. She waits, pistoning up and down, for her exam results,  as Master Jack applies the stencil. “My God!,” he exclaims, “She got a 99 on the English test.” Audrey goes rabbit mode, bouncing up and down the room so fast. Then Master Jack exclaims, “No! She got a 100 on the math.” These are the highest scores in human history. Audrey enters  duck mode, waddling up and down in front of Master Jack, who loses all control and chases her from the room, shouting, “You little jerk! You sandbagged me…. A month’s salary…. I am going to take it out of your hide…..”

Tess looks at Tutor. “Mind-meld?” “Yes, Madame, your daughter has already taught me a lot.”