The Misguided Mantra of the ‘Temporarily Embarrassed Millionaire’

By LONNIE KING

I know a lot of good people—hardworking, middle-class folks like me—who get really fired up when anyone suggests raising taxes on the ultra-wealthy. Not just skeptical. Not just cautious.  But, fired up. Like it’s a personal attack…on them. 

I’ve worked with them.  I’ve worked for them. They’ve been friends. They’ve been colleagues. Some are definitely even blood relatives.

But, I’ll be honest: I just don’t get it.

My wife and I make a decent living. We’ve worked hard, paid off debt, helped support our adult kids when they needed it. We’re not rich, but we’re not scraping by either. We’re doing pretty well by most standards. 

And yet, even at our income level, we’ve never once needed to hire a tax attorney, create an offshore account, or worry about how to shelter millions in capital gains.

That’s not our world. Nor is it the world of our friends.

But when conversations come up about asking billionaires—people with more money than they can reasonably spend in three or four lifetimes—to pay a little more in taxes, a surprising number of my peers respond as if we’re the ones being targeted.

That’s when I remember one of the truest lines I’ve ever read:

“Socialism could never take root in America—because the poor see themselves not as an exploited proletariat, but as temporarily embarrassed millionaires.”

That quote has been attributed to John Steinbeck (or possibly Canadian author Ronald Wright). Having read a little Steinbeck, it sounds like him.  But it doesn’t really matter who said it.

It’s the truth.

The Psychology of the Temporarily Embarrassed Millionaire

In America, we’re raised not to see ourselves as working class or vulnerable. We’re taught to believe we’re on our way up. That even if things are tight now, success is just around the corner. One promotion. One lucky break. One smart investment.

“We’re not millionaires yet, but…”

So, when someone proposes raising taxes on the super-rich, it doesn’t just sound like a policy change—it sounds like an obstacle in the path to a dream we’ve been told is ours to chase.

That’s what makes it feel so personal.

To admit that we’ll probably never be in the top 1% feels like giving up. So, we defend the system that serves the 1%, hoping we’ll get there in time to enjoy the perks.

We oppose policies that could help us now, just in case they might hinder us later—you know, when we’re rich. Which, let’s be honest, most of us won’t be.  At least not that rich.

But…that’s not a failure. That’s just the math. Still, as long as we’re clinging to that identity of “temporarily embarrassed millionaire,” we’re carrying water for people who don’t even know we exist—or care about the real-world issues that people deal with—while undercutting the very things that would make life better for the people we actually are.

The Myth We’ve Been Sold

Certain cable news pundits, podcast hosts (I see you, Dave Ramsey) and tax-shelter millionaires have made a fortune convincing ordinary Americans that billionaires are job creators, that taxes are theft and that government programs are just handouts for people who won’t help themselves.

And yet here we are—paying our fair share, worrying about retirement, supporting our families, and hoping Social Security is still solvent by the time we get there. Meanwhile, the people with the most resources hire accountants and lobbyists to ensure they pay less.

Now…you MUST hear me when I say this: this is not about wealth envy or economic ideology.

It’s about fairness.  And if we really want to make America great, fairness has to be the driving force.

A Different Dream

I don’t hate rich people. I don’t want to punish success.  I still aspire to be wealthy myself—it’s literally why I play the lottery every week.  But seriously, I don’t think it’s a sin to want to accumulate wealth.

I do think it’s a sin to hoard it and not to do good with it.

And for that reason, I want a system that’s honest. I want a society that doesn’t ask nurses, teachers, single parents, and small business owners to carry the tax burden while billionaires dodge it with shell companies and creative bookkeeping.

And more than anything, I want us to stop confusing wealth admiration with wealth protection.

We can still believe in opportunity. We can still strive. But let’s stop pretending we’re one step away from needing a yacht tax deduction. Let’s stop defending a club we’re not in—and probably never will be—at the expense of the people and places we love.

Because maybe the real American Dream isn’t about becoming a billionaire.

Maybe it’s about living a decent life without pretending you’re someone you’re not.