What do you think?
Rate this book
Uneasy Street: The Anxieties of Affluence
A surprising and revealing look at how today's elite view their own wealth and place in society
From TV’s “real housewives” to The Wolf of Wall Street , our popular culture portrays the wealthy as materialistic and entitled. But what do we really know about those who live on “easy street”? In this penetrating book, Rachel Sherman draws on rare in-depth interviews that she conducted with fifty affluent New Yorkers―including hedge fund financiers and corporate lawyers, professors and artists, and stay-at-home mothers―to examine their lifestyle choices and their understanding of privilege. Sherman upends images of wealthy people as invested only in accruing and displaying social advantages for themselves and their children. Instead, these liberal elites, who believe in diversity and meritocracy, feel conflicted about their position in a highly unequal society. They wish to be “normal,” describing their consumption as reasonable and basic and comparing themselves to those who have more than they do rather than those with less. These New Yorkers also want to see themselves as hard workers who give back and raise children with good values, and they avoid talking about money.
Although their experiences differ depending on a range of factors, including whether their wealth was earned or inherited, these elites generally depict themselves as productive and prudent, and therefore morally worthy, while the undeserving rich are lazy, ostentatious, and snobbish. Sherman argues that this ethical distinction between “good” and “bad” wealthy people characterizes American culture more broadly, and that it perpetuates rather than challenges economic inequality.
As the distance between rich and poor widens, Uneasy Street not only explores the real lives of those at the top but also sheds light on how extreme inequality comes to seem ordinary and acceptable to the rest of us.
From TV’s “real housewives” to The Wolf of Wall Street , our popular culture portrays the wealthy as materialistic and entitled. But what do we really know about those who live on “easy street”? In this penetrating book, Rachel Sherman draws on rare in-depth interviews that she conducted with fifty affluent New Yorkers―including hedge fund financiers and corporate lawyers, professors and artists, and stay-at-home mothers―to examine their lifestyle choices and their understanding of privilege. Sherman upends images of wealthy people as invested only in accruing and displaying social advantages for themselves and their children. Instead, these liberal elites, who believe in diversity and meritocracy, feel conflicted about their position in a highly unequal society. They wish to be “normal,” describing their consumption as reasonable and basic and comparing themselves to those who have more than they do rather than those with less. These New Yorkers also want to see themselves as hard workers who give back and raise children with good values, and they avoid talking about money.
Although their experiences differ depending on a range of factors, including whether their wealth was earned or inherited, these elites generally depict themselves as productive and prudent, and therefore morally worthy, while the undeserving rich are lazy, ostentatious, and snobbish. Sherman argues that this ethical distinction between “good” and “bad” wealthy people characterizes American culture more broadly, and that it perpetuates rather than challenges economic inequality.
As the distance between rich and poor widens, Uneasy Street not only explores the real lives of those at the top but also sheds light on how extreme inequality comes to seem ordinary and acceptable to the rest of us.
328 pages, Hardcover
First published August 29, 2017
201 people are currently reading
5845 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 181 reviews
December 26, 2019
Wow, I learned a lot from this book. In Uneasy Street: The Anxieties of Affluence, Rachel Sherman interviews a bunch of super rich people living in New York City about their wealth and how they experience it. She draws a lot of intelligent, astute observations from the interviews. At the same time, her writing feels readable and accessible to a general audience, such that I always felt entertained and never bogged down by jargon or unnecessarily complex words. Some observations from her interviews include how rich people will try to enact a lot of individualistic and internal behaviors and attitudes to alleviate their guilt about their privilege, how they often try to lump themselves into the middle class when they are indeed not part of the middle class, and how they make upward or downward comparisons which affects how they talk about money. Here’s a quote about the upward or downward comparisons I found fascinating:
“Because privilege is always relative, [interviewees’] orientations had a lot to do with which kinds of other people they compared themselves to. People like Ursula, whom I call ‘upward-oriented,’ downplayed their advantages by comparing themselves to others in a similar position or to those who had more. In fact, they were more likely to locate themselves, implicitly and sometimes explicitly, ‘in the middle.’ They tended to recognize privilege only indirectly, using euphemisms such as ‘lucky’ or ‘fortunate.’ They talked less about money unless I asked them directly about it, and they expressed fewer conflicted feelings about privilege per se… ‘downward-oriented’ people, like Keith and Karen, on the other hand, were more likely to describe themselves as privileged and to talk about people with less. They also talked more frankly about money and described struggling with feelings of discomfort about their advantages.”
I appreciated so many of the insights Sherman garners from these interviews. One theme that stood out to me includes how a decent amount of the participants felt so uncomfortable explicitly naming their wealth privilege, even though they all pretty much knew they had it. As Sherman touches on, this theme reminded me so much of white privilege and how white people hesitate to name their privilege because they often feel that having privilege implies they have not worked hard – an untrue sentiment. Sherman does a fantastic job of capturing the extent to which participants in this book would try to legitimize and justify their wealth in response to the guilt they feel instead of focusing on structures and systems that enabled their wealth. I also loved how she captured the gender dynamic in which wealthy men were more likely to try to control their wives’ income, whereas when women earned more than men women did not exert as much control, which reflects both a sexist gender dynamic as well as a conflict between the couple that takes their attention away again from broader systems that perpetuate economic inequity.
As someone with a good amount of inherited wealth reading this book made me reflect more on my own privilege and how I can confront and use it. For example, a small part of me is tempted to write – but my parents are immigrants and they worked hard and sacrificed, or I’m definitely not as wealthy as the people in this book – but instead I will acknowledge my inherited wealth for what it is instead of trying to use upward-comparison or legitimizing logic to minimize it. I do wish Sherman shared about her own class background and other relevant social identities; I’m not sure what the norms are in sociological research, but in qualitative psychological research it’s often the norm for researchers to state their own identities so we can understand how those identities may have affected the interviews. I’m also curious for if Sherman has more specific recommendations for how wealthy people can use their class privilege to deconstruct the systems that perpetuate it, in addition to what she alludes to in the book.
Overall, highly recommended for those interested in an intelligent and well-written examination of the affluent and class privilege. I’ll end this review with a quote from a later section of the book about a broader takeaway from Sherman’s research findings:
“However, I think the larger political task highlighted by these findings has less to do with prescribing how wealthy people should act and more to do with deconstructing this logic of legitimate privilege, which focuses on individual actions and measures behavior feeling, not distribution, with a moral yardstick. What would happen if we stopped distinguishing between individual good and bad rich people and engaged questions about a more egalitarian distribution of material and experiential resources? What would it mean, for example, to say that we should be critical of the fact that J. K. Rowling is a billionaire – regardless of how she came by her fortune, how she spends it, or whether she gives it away – just on the basis of the idea that such wealth is inseparable from extreme inequality, which is both pernicious to society and itself immoral?”
“Because privilege is always relative, [interviewees’] orientations had a lot to do with which kinds of other people they compared themselves to. People like Ursula, whom I call ‘upward-oriented,’ downplayed their advantages by comparing themselves to others in a similar position or to those who had more. In fact, they were more likely to locate themselves, implicitly and sometimes explicitly, ‘in the middle.’ They tended to recognize privilege only indirectly, using euphemisms such as ‘lucky’ or ‘fortunate.’ They talked less about money unless I asked them directly about it, and they expressed fewer conflicted feelings about privilege per se… ‘downward-oriented’ people, like Keith and Karen, on the other hand, were more likely to describe themselves as privileged and to talk about people with less. They also talked more frankly about money and described struggling with feelings of discomfort about their advantages.”
I appreciated so many of the insights Sherman garners from these interviews. One theme that stood out to me includes how a decent amount of the participants felt so uncomfortable explicitly naming their wealth privilege, even though they all pretty much knew they had it. As Sherman touches on, this theme reminded me so much of white privilege and how white people hesitate to name their privilege because they often feel that having privilege implies they have not worked hard – an untrue sentiment. Sherman does a fantastic job of capturing the extent to which participants in this book would try to legitimize and justify their wealth in response to the guilt they feel instead of focusing on structures and systems that enabled their wealth. I also loved how she captured the gender dynamic in which wealthy men were more likely to try to control their wives’ income, whereas when women earned more than men women did not exert as much control, which reflects both a sexist gender dynamic as well as a conflict between the couple that takes their attention away again from broader systems that perpetuate economic inequity.
As someone with a good amount of inherited wealth reading this book made me reflect more on my own privilege and how I can confront and use it. For example, a small part of me is tempted to write – but my parents are immigrants and they worked hard and sacrificed, or I’m definitely not as wealthy as the people in this book – but instead I will acknowledge my inherited wealth for what it is instead of trying to use upward-comparison or legitimizing logic to minimize it. I do wish Sherman shared about her own class background and other relevant social identities; I’m not sure what the norms are in sociological research, but in qualitative psychological research it’s often the norm for researchers to state their own identities so we can understand how those identities may have affected the interviews. I’m also curious for if Sherman has more specific recommendations for how wealthy people can use their class privilege to deconstruct the systems that perpetuate it, in addition to what she alludes to in the book.
Overall, highly recommended for those interested in an intelligent and well-written examination of the affluent and class privilege. I’ll end this review with a quote from a later section of the book about a broader takeaway from Sherman’s research findings:
“However, I think the larger political task highlighted by these findings has less to do with prescribing how wealthy people should act and more to do with deconstructing this logic of legitimate privilege, which focuses on individual actions and measures behavior feeling, not distribution, with a moral yardstick. What would happen if we stopped distinguishing between individual good and bad rich people and engaged questions about a more egalitarian distribution of material and experiential resources? What would it mean, for example, to say that we should be critical of the fact that J. K. Rowling is a billionaire – regardless of how she came by her fortune, how she spends it, or whether she gives it away – just on the basis of the idea that such wealth is inseparable from extreme inequality, which is both pernicious to society and itself immoral?”
July 3, 2020
Originally published in 2017, Rachel Sherman's nonfiction book, "Uneasy Street: The Anxieties of Affluence," was not a book I enjoyed reading. At all.
This is a book about how the upper-middle class and upper class perpetuate systemic inequality. They do this through voting choices, lifestyle decisions, education and neighborhood segregation, as well as perpetuating certain classist myths, especially the myth of meritocracy and the idea that those born into poverty "deserve" their fate.
"Uneasy Street" is a book that could honestly come with a trigger warning for anyone who grew up in the income bracket beneath the middle class. If you grew up in poverty, this is going to be a hard book to read. I know it certainly was for me.
Sherman grew up in the upper-middle class, and it *is* rewarding to see, by the end, how much she recognizes her own internalized classism illuminated in her interview subjects, and how difficult it was for her to see her own beliefs in the oppressive, upper-class values being shared. Sherman's analysis on this point is very subtle, but to a careful reader, the truth is certainly there.
I finished this book a few months ago, and I honestly can't remember how often the word "classism" even appears on the page. It might not even be part of this book. Similar to examining racism or ableism, naming oppressive systems, even in a nonfiction text such as this one, is often taboo. Since most books are purchased by people who might "see themselves" in the affluent subjects Sherman interviews, she takes great care not to condemn anything that appears in this book. Sherman expresses great sympathy and consideration for everyone she interviews. If you are afraid that this book might openly discuss classism, please, have no fear. This is a gentle, considerate examination of the daily struggles of upper-class U.S. citizens.
I learned a lot from this book, but not always from what was *on* the page. I learned an incredible amount from what went *unspoken* in this book. "Uneasy Street" was a dark, brutal read for me. Rather than "seeing myself" on the page, reading this book was like listening to antebellum slave owners sitting on a veranda, sipping lemonade, and casually chatting about how hard they work to deserve what they have, and all the struggles they face as slave owners, and how there is always one massively-rich plantation owner in town who makes it clear to them that they are not really "rich" at all, just middle-class slave owners struggling to get by.
While reading this book, I listened to a few upper-middle class and upper-class podcast hosts interview Sherman about "Uneasy Street" on their show, and the hosts I listened to all expressed deep sympathy for the people Sherman interviewed. The hosts I listened to often expressed the following: "Oh, these poor affluent people, suffering anxiety over their wealth. They should spend more time in therapy so they stop feeling any need to justify their privilege when they are asked direct questions about their wealth. They should just be able to say, 'Yes, I worked hard for all this, and I deserve it,' and not feel the least bit squeamish about income inequality at all."
If you find yourself agreeing with those statements, then you are definitely the target audience for this book.
If the word "classism" is a filthy word in your household, the kind of word that should *never* be uttered, you are definitely the target audience for this book.
I am glad that I read this book. It is dry, repetitive, and I wish it had come with a trigger warning, stating it was "by the middle class, for the middle class." But even so, it was a good read for me. I found it horribly insightful, due to all of the things that were carefully, deliberately left unsaid.
Five stars.
This is a book about how the upper-middle class and upper class perpetuate systemic inequality. They do this through voting choices, lifestyle decisions, education and neighborhood segregation, as well as perpetuating certain classist myths, especially the myth of meritocracy and the idea that those born into poverty "deserve" their fate.
"Uneasy Street" is a book that could honestly come with a trigger warning for anyone who grew up in the income bracket beneath the middle class. If you grew up in poverty, this is going to be a hard book to read. I know it certainly was for me.
Sherman grew up in the upper-middle class, and it *is* rewarding to see, by the end, how much she recognizes her own internalized classism illuminated in her interview subjects, and how difficult it was for her to see her own beliefs in the oppressive, upper-class values being shared. Sherman's analysis on this point is very subtle, but to a careful reader, the truth is certainly there.
I finished this book a few months ago, and I honestly can't remember how often the word "classism" even appears on the page. It might not even be part of this book. Similar to examining racism or ableism, naming oppressive systems, even in a nonfiction text such as this one, is often taboo. Since most books are purchased by people who might "see themselves" in the affluent subjects Sherman interviews, she takes great care not to condemn anything that appears in this book. Sherman expresses great sympathy and consideration for everyone she interviews. If you are afraid that this book might openly discuss classism, please, have no fear. This is a gentle, considerate examination of the daily struggles of upper-class U.S. citizens.
I learned a lot from this book, but not always from what was *on* the page. I learned an incredible amount from what went *unspoken* in this book. "Uneasy Street" was a dark, brutal read for me. Rather than "seeing myself" on the page, reading this book was like listening to antebellum slave owners sitting on a veranda, sipping lemonade, and casually chatting about how hard they work to deserve what they have, and all the struggles they face as slave owners, and how there is always one massively-rich plantation owner in town who makes it clear to them that they are not really "rich" at all, just middle-class slave owners struggling to get by.
While reading this book, I listened to a few upper-middle class and upper-class podcast hosts interview Sherman about "Uneasy Street" on their show, and the hosts I listened to all expressed deep sympathy for the people Sherman interviewed. The hosts I listened to often expressed the following: "Oh, these poor affluent people, suffering anxiety over their wealth. They should spend more time in therapy so they stop feeling any need to justify their privilege when they are asked direct questions about their wealth. They should just be able to say, 'Yes, I worked hard for all this, and I deserve it,' and not feel the least bit squeamish about income inequality at all."
If you find yourself agreeing with those statements, then you are definitely the target audience for this book.
If the word "classism" is a filthy word in your household, the kind of word that should *never* be uttered, you are definitely the target audience for this book.
I am glad that I read this book. It is dry, repetitive, and I wish it had come with a trigger warning, stating it was "by the middle class, for the middle class." But even so, it was a good read for me. I found it horribly insightful, due to all of the things that were carefully, deliberately left unsaid.
Five stars.
August 31, 2018
By the time I finished reading the first page, I was overcome with the feeling that something was missing. Oh, right, it's that my expectations have been warped by the way we discuss the rich in popular culture. Rachel Sherman didn't write this book with the purpose of making fun of the upper class. It isn't a parody. Though at times it certainly reads like one, and I can't help but feel that it's because we've been conditioned to expect it and accept it.
If the last few years in America have taught us anything, it's that the rich are scapegoats. We can blame them for anything. And it's totally PC! Their problems don't matter because they're rich person problems. Remember, it was okay to poke fun at the "trust fund kids" who ended up stranded on an island without food and medical care at the disaster that was the Fyre Festival. While certain publications I subscribe to sufficiently cover topics that the rich care about, they rarely go deeper than the standards- taxes, business, real estate, and hobbies that are low hanging fruit for bad jokes.
When I saw this book mentioned in a Bloomberg article, I started thinking. You know, for all of the ways the rich are portrayed, I can't recall anybody making an effort to study what their lives are actually like. It's most effectively communicated by a book like this, because any visual media form will immediately cause the underlying research to be overwhelmed by, well, visuals. Focusing entirely on the rich aspect of the rich and famous goes a long way in promoting objectivity as well. In other words, this is as good as we're ever going to get.
So, not surprisingly, it turns out that the author had a really hard time finding rich people who wanted to talk about their finances. In fact, what I gathered from the end was that she initially told a lie regarding what the main topic of the interviews was (hint: it wasn't actually home renovations, but great cover story!). She nearly exclusively interviewed housewives. They ranged from former investment bankers, to inheritors of eight-figure fortunes, to relatively ordinary people (with rich husbands), all with the commonality of being wealthy and having recently completed or currently undergoing home renovations. Some had no idea about their finances, while others materially lied about their home values to make themselves seem poorer.
You may expect that the book consists of rich people complaining about problems that are mostly just problems relative to other rich people. Your expectations wouldn't be entirely wrong. The one indisputable issue that rich people have that others don't is how to raise a child who doesn't grow up to be an entitled stereotype. Some think that setting up a trust fund that doesn't start paying out until the child's late twenties is part of the solution, while others remarked how they made a big deal of it whenever they flew business class so their kids didn't start taking it for granted. Others bemoaned the fact that there were too many bad examples of flagrant entitlement in the private schools they sent their children to. None mentioned the effectiveness of the parent being a strong role model in a child's life. (reviewer's note: having come across my fair share of these children, I subscribe to the belief that it becomes significantly harder to raise a child who is 1. Hungry and 2. Not emotionally defective once a family exceeds the upper-middle-class bracket. All bets are off if inherited money plays any significant role in this.)
A constant theme in the book is the lengths the rich go to to make themselves seem not rich. But, really, after a while, many of the 'anxieties' aside from child rearing and dynamics of power in married couples seem contrived. Much of it sounds good on paper (and, yeah, Rachel Sherman can write), but I fear that the author was treated primarily as a therapist. These rich people said things that made themselves feel good in a confessional setting. While they certainly spoke to some deeply-rooted insecurities, I don't believe that their decision-making processes are anywhere near as heavily influenced by the beliefs that were shared with the author.
Also, while those with high seven-figure net worths deserve criticism for claiming not to be rich, I'm not sure a couple pulling $250k in Manhattan is bound to be suffering from anything other than a serious case of keeping up with the Joneses (and paying a mortgage they can barely afford). The wide variety of financial situations is appropriate, but it all boils down to how interesting each subject is. Is s/he delusional? Believable? Willing to open up and go on a diatribe? On average, how many times is the word 'like' used in each sentence? Does s/he come off as entitled while musing about entitlement?
All food for thought, though, in a big picture sense, Uneasy Street left me quite hungry. The author did everything she could but was struck driving the bus for too long while the self-righteous subjects fumbled nearly every question.
See this review and others on my blog
If the last few years in America have taught us anything, it's that the rich are scapegoats. We can blame them for anything. And it's totally PC! Their problems don't matter because they're rich person problems. Remember, it was okay to poke fun at the "trust fund kids" who ended up stranded on an island without food and medical care at the disaster that was the Fyre Festival. While certain publications I subscribe to sufficiently cover topics that the rich care about, they rarely go deeper than the standards- taxes, business, real estate, and hobbies that are low hanging fruit for bad jokes.
When I saw this book mentioned in a Bloomberg article, I started thinking. You know, for all of the ways the rich are portrayed, I can't recall anybody making an effort to study what their lives are actually like. It's most effectively communicated by a book like this, because any visual media form will immediately cause the underlying research to be overwhelmed by, well, visuals. Focusing entirely on the rich aspect of the rich and famous goes a long way in promoting objectivity as well. In other words, this is as good as we're ever going to get.
So, not surprisingly, it turns out that the author had a really hard time finding rich people who wanted to talk about their finances. In fact, what I gathered from the end was that she initially told a lie regarding what the main topic of the interviews was (hint: it wasn't actually home renovations, but great cover story!). She nearly exclusively interviewed housewives. They ranged from former investment bankers, to inheritors of eight-figure fortunes, to relatively ordinary people (with rich husbands), all with the commonality of being wealthy and having recently completed or currently undergoing home renovations. Some had no idea about their finances, while others materially lied about their home values to make themselves seem poorer.
You may expect that the book consists of rich people complaining about problems that are mostly just problems relative to other rich people. Your expectations wouldn't be entirely wrong. The one indisputable issue that rich people have that others don't is how to raise a child who doesn't grow up to be an entitled stereotype. Some think that setting up a trust fund that doesn't start paying out until the child's late twenties is part of the solution, while others remarked how they made a big deal of it whenever they flew business class so their kids didn't start taking it for granted. Others bemoaned the fact that there were too many bad examples of flagrant entitlement in the private schools they sent their children to. None mentioned the effectiveness of the parent being a strong role model in a child's life. (reviewer's note: having come across my fair share of these children, I subscribe to the belief that it becomes significantly harder to raise a child who is 1. Hungry and 2. Not emotionally defective once a family exceeds the upper-middle-class bracket. All bets are off if inherited money plays any significant role in this.)
A constant theme in the book is the lengths the rich go to to make themselves seem not rich. But, really, after a while, many of the 'anxieties' aside from child rearing and dynamics of power in married couples seem contrived. Much of it sounds good on paper (and, yeah, Rachel Sherman can write), but I fear that the author was treated primarily as a therapist. These rich people said things that made themselves feel good in a confessional setting. While they certainly spoke to some deeply-rooted insecurities, I don't believe that their decision-making processes are anywhere near as heavily influenced by the beliefs that were shared with the author.
Also, while those with high seven-figure net worths deserve criticism for claiming not to be rich, I'm not sure a couple pulling $250k in Manhattan is bound to be suffering from anything other than a serious case of keeping up with the Joneses (and paying a mortgage they can barely afford). The wide variety of financial situations is appropriate, but it all boils down to how interesting each subject is. Is s/he delusional? Believable? Willing to open up and go on a diatribe? On average, how many times is the word 'like' used in each sentence? Does s/he come off as entitled while musing about entitlement?
All food for thought, though, in a big picture sense, Uneasy Street left me quite hungry. The author did everything she could but was struck driving the bus for too long while the self-righteous subjects fumbled nearly every question.
See this review and others on my blog
March 20, 2018
This reads more as paper for graduate studies in Sociology than a discussion about any moral implications of economic disparity in America. It is a bit clumsy and repetitive but it makes it's point (over and over again). A horrifying look at the modern day Marie Antoinette's.
May 5, 2019
I was hoping this book would be good because I think it's a fascinating premise--sort of an academic "housewives" book. But no, it's just a catalogue of interview responses from people without much analysis. And she also does too much lumping--making $500k is not the same as making billions. So wile 500k is super duper rich, I think it would be much more interesting if she had broken apart the stories based on wealth.
January 9, 2020
I didn’t think I’d enjoy this book as much as I did. In fact, I thought I could skip the rest after reading the introduction, which read like a summary of findings.
Sherman’s true talent lies in her expose of the wealthy’s unwillingness to acknowledge the structural systems that allow them to enjoy their comfortable position. She critiques their justification of privilege with deservingness (hard work earning their money) and philanthropy. She argues we should stop distinguishing between “good” and “bad” rich individuals, and instead demand more economic equality across the board.
While the nosy in me enjoyed the peek into the financial lives and mindsets of NYC’s richest families, I walked away with much more. Anyone interested in sociology needs to read this.
Sherman’s true talent lies in her expose of the wealthy’s unwillingness to acknowledge the structural systems that allow them to enjoy their comfortable position. She critiques their justification of privilege with deservingness (hard work earning their money) and philanthropy. She argues we should stop distinguishing between “good” and “bad” rich individuals, and instead demand more economic equality across the board.
While the nosy in me enjoyed the peek into the financial lives and mindsets of NYC’s richest families, I walked away with much more. Anyone interested in sociology needs to read this.
April 20, 2018
Interesting main point— that with so much inequality people with privilege must work hard to justify their privilege through hard work, constrained consumption, and being polite. Being a person with class privilege myself I found the descriptions apt and insightful, and agreed with the main thrust of her book, that no one ‘deserves’ their privilege just like no one ‘deserves’ their poverty. The levels of inequality we are experiencing today are dangerous and morally wrong. If I feel this way I should spending my energy to make political change rather than working to seem like a ‘worthy’ rich person. I also found the exploration of the situations of stay at home mothers with high earning husbands troubling.
June 10, 2022
Came here from Such a Fun Age because I thought the Alix character was extremely well-written, and when Reid credited a lot of her insight to this sociological study, I had to know more. It's a fascinating and rare qualitative look at some rich New Yorkers thoughts about being rich: how they compare to others (some going so far as to essentially call themselves the ever-indefinable and catch-all "Middle Class"), what were morally legitimate ways to spend their money versus what was a luxury, spousal relationships depending on who had the money/power, inherited versus earned money, raising kids etc. Fascinating. Some guilt and angst, lots of contradictions and rationalizations. My main gripe was that it got very repetitive and could have been edited to about half the length without losing any breadth.
July 2, 2021
Such a Fun Age led me to this book, and I'm so glad. The book blurb does a very good job of summarizing Sherman's findings, so I will only add to her argument - taken from her Conclusion - against the ethical distinction between "good" and "bad" wealthy:
This focus on distinctions among individuals draws attention away from institutions and social processes such as the systemic unequal distribution of resources...What would happen if we stopped distinguishing between good and bad rich people, and engaged questions about a more egalitarian distribution of material and experiential resources?...[Major problem is that the] idea that people deserve resources based on individual moral affect and action is broadly taken for granted in the United States.Besides her main argument, I was struck by a few more things: (1) how her interviewees created narratives to inhabit their privilege in a morally worthy manner (which is understandable: who doesn't want to feel good about themselves?); (2) how attitudes about spending depended upon the source of wealth (earned vs. inherited) and the nature of labor (e.g., unpaid work of SAHMs; homework of children); and (3) how silence about affluence is similar to white people's unwillingness to discuss race and privilege. I also appreciated the discussion of her sampling (households whose income was over $250K - the top 5% of the U.S. in 2010 - then later focusing on people who were in the middle of renovating their homes) and limitations of her study, such as an inability to consider the impact of factors like race and sexual orientation.
July 26, 2021
Fascinating, unsettling, and ambivalent about the range of the rich it profiles. I grew up in an environment similar to the one described here, and continue to struggle with how to understand my own privilege and combat the narratives of wealth my family actively and inadvertently propagated. So I felt both recognized and uncomfortable when seeing what stories the rich peddle to justify the inequities in this country. It’s provocations were actually more engaging than some of the theory.
abandoned
August 27, 2018The rich are different from you and me. But they don't really want to feel different, at least not in the ways that matter. So, being that we live in a modern Gilded Age, people go through all kinds of mental acrobatics to live with themselves.
That's my takeaway from the first 2 chapters of the book (which I won't give a star rating, since I abandoned it.) It's an interesting line of inquiry, but the heavily academic and analytical nature of the book strangled any possibility of narrative. And, absent an interesting narrative, there's only so much rich-person hand-wringing I have patience for.
The author bent over backwards to not reveal her subjects' delicate identity, to the point where, she said, the same couple might get different pseudonyms at different stages of the book. (Otherwise some reader, after finding out that a couple renovated their Upper East Side condo in 2012 and purchased a ranch in Colorado the year after, might use this information to look at public records and figure out who they are, the horror.) Again, this is very common, and good, practice in academia. But it got me thinking about how journalists approach wealth, with a delicacy and deference that we don't afford to other groups. And then at this point I closed the book because it made me too depressed.
That's my takeaway from the first 2 chapters of the book (which I won't give a star rating, since I abandoned it.) It's an interesting line of inquiry, but the heavily academic and analytical nature of the book strangled any possibility of narrative. And, absent an interesting narrative, there's only so much rich-person hand-wringing I have patience for.
The author bent over backwards to not reveal her subjects' delicate identity, to the point where, she said, the same couple might get different pseudonyms at different stages of the book. (Otherwise some reader, after finding out that a couple renovated their Upper East Side condo in 2012 and purchased a ranch in Colorado the year after, might use this information to look at public records and figure out who they are, the horror.) Again, this is very common, and good, practice in academia. But it got me thinking about how journalists approach wealth, with a delicacy and deference that we don't afford to other groups. And then at this point I closed the book because it made me too depressed.
January 23, 2021
This was a qualitative sociological study about New Yorker’s attitudes to their own extreme wealth. It had some interesting points, such as how these people frame themselves as deserving of their wealth and the mental hoops they jump through to occupy their privilege ‘legitimately’, also how even the very wealthy like to position themselves as ‘in the middle’ by drawing attention to those wealthier than themselves and not ‘seeing’ those below them on the social strata. The exploration of the power dynamics between wealthy couples and how they change dependant on who is earning/who is an inheritor/gender was also a good read. Lots of interesting stuff. However, these points are all very laboured and made again and again, leading to quite a repetitive read. Whilst the book is short, the repetition makes it quite a laborious to get through. There is also a weird amount of emphasis on home renovation in the study that feels out of place; renovation was apparently the ‘cover’ study the author used to gain access to these very wealthy people and ask them questions, I.e. she told them she was doing a study on home renovation and how it affected couples. All in all I think this would have made a better long news paper article than a meandering and repetitive short book.
February 4, 2024
It's so hard to find anyone willing to talk about money and class, so I appreciate this study as a counterpoint to books like Nickel and Dimed about people living in the lower working class. The only comparable study I can even think of is the Jon Ronson essay for GQ Amber Waves of Green, but that was so much less detailed. This book gets into everything about the lives of the affluent from childrearing to household division of labor to political and philanthropic contributions.
I do wish, as the author acknowledged, that there was a broader or more representative sample rather than the small snowball sample used. The sample is more politically liberal and progressive, is more wives than husbands, and is specific to New York. But I have sympathy for how difficult it was already even to get this one. I'm kind of amazed at the questions she managed to get answers to.
The book is academic, and has entire sections on methodology and sampling, so be prepared to skim some parts if social science research isn't your thing.
I do wish, as the author acknowledged, that there was a broader or more representative sample rather than the small snowball sample used. The sample is more politically liberal and progressive, is more wives than husbands, and is specific to New York. But I have sympathy for how difficult it was already even to get this one. I'm kind of amazed at the questions she managed to get answers to.
The book is academic, and has entire sections on methodology and sampling, so be prepared to skim some parts if social science research isn't your thing.
August 1, 2024
I returned the book unfinished to the library and don't think I'll check it out again. I was interested because a close friend's child had to read this for a college seminar on Privilege, and it is interesting to me that her subjects feel quite stressed about money even though they have it in general abundance. This reminded me a bit of another read from a while ago- "Dream Hoarders" by Richard Reeves (much longer title). My takeaways from both: that people's perception of themselves as haves or have nots, and how they compare themselves to others (having a lot but not as much as that person versus having a lot which is so much more than other people) impacts how much they do for those with much less than them, and how much stress they end up feeling about their own situation or spending. I think these are all the result of capitalism and have to admit, I wonder if we would be better off as a whole with a slightly different system.
December 30, 2024
This was a thought-provoking qualitative study and I appreciate how thoroughly Sherman describes her methods and choice points throughout the book. Most of my thoughts are captured in Thomas' review , but here are a couple others. I agree with the author's summary that moralizing and considering privilege/wealth/affluence only on an individual basis is somewhat unproductive considering our society's conception of worthiness and privilege. There is something structurally supporting a society where a couple can have immediate ACCESS to over $250,000, let alone millions, if needed and be preoccupied with scarcity. I also found it fascinating to think about what Sherman offered about how perceived (and real) inequities in one's relationship can obscure where you stand relative to others. It's worth noting that affluent women, namely White women, who feel surveilled by their husbands about essential purchases may focus on those inequities and the conditions of privilege (and the consequences of not abiding by them). It is also not an excuse. I don't know know what the answers are, but I do believe Sherman got us closer to them by asking better questions and identifying nuanced themes.
January 19, 2024
This took me about a year to read. This is not because the book was bad but because I didn't find the subject matter as interesting as I thought I would. I really had to force myself to get through this book.
My main takeaway was that, by and large, rich parents are like non-rich parents: they want the best for their kids. They want their kids to be good people (respectful, hard working, not snobby, etc.) I believe that one summary that I read on Goodreads by Candice Brusuelas perfectly stated the contents of this book: "interesting, but not revelatory."
I found the informants likable and somewhat relatable.
My main takeaway was that, by and large, rich parents are like non-rich parents: they want the best for their kids. They want their kids to be good people (respectful, hard working, not snobby, etc.) I believe that one summary that I read on Goodreads by Candice Brusuelas perfectly stated the contents of this book: "interesting, but not revelatory."
I found the informants likable and somewhat relatable.
August 23, 2020
As someone who grew up in a lower middle class setting and, as an independent adult, lived below or at the poverty line until very, very recently, I wanted to read about the people with the greener grass and was hoping this book would give me a little forced perspective so that I could stop resenting the upper-middle and upper classes so much; I'm trying to work on not judging an entire group of people by their loudest members. I was not disappointed.
The way this book handles the wealthy as a subset of people but without either looking down upon them nor placing them on a pedestal was exactly what I had been hoping for. The neutral tone helped me learn a lot about this subset of society without the flash and chaos of something like Keeping Up with the Kardashians or the dull conceit and coldness of watching politicians in the media.
Were there times I kinda wanted to reach through the book and slap an interviewee? Sure was. And were there times when I heard myself muttering "must be nice" derisively under my breath before I even realized I was thinking it? Absolutely. But the important part was that this book humanized a subset of society that I had, up to this point, blindly resented and disliked for their extravagance without ever actually knowing anyone who belonged to the group.
I think anyone who makes less than six figures a year should read this book just like I think anyone who makes six figures or more per year should read Emily Guendelsberger's "On the Clock: What Low-Wage Work Did to Me and How It Drives America Insane" because we can never expect to understand or fully respect one another as fellow Americans or, hell, fellow humans if we don't try to wear one another's shoes for a day.
Anyway, tl;dr this book was take enlightening and I definitely recommend it!
The way this book handles the wealthy as a subset of people but without either looking down upon them nor placing them on a pedestal was exactly what I had been hoping for. The neutral tone helped me learn a lot about this subset of society without the flash and chaos of something like Keeping Up with the Kardashians or the dull conceit and coldness of watching politicians in the media.
Were there times I kinda wanted to reach through the book and slap an interviewee? Sure was. And were there times when I heard myself muttering "must be nice" derisively under my breath before I even realized I was thinking it? Absolutely. But the important part was that this book humanized a subset of society that I had, up to this point, blindly resented and disliked for their extravagance without ever actually knowing anyone who belonged to the group.
I think anyone who makes less than six figures a year should read this book just like I think anyone who makes six figures or more per year should read Emily Guendelsberger's "On the Clock: What Low-Wage Work Did to Me and How It Drives America Insane" because we can never expect to understand or fully respect one another as fellow Americans or, hell, fellow humans if we don't try to wear one another's shoes for a day.
Anyway, tl;dr this book was take enlightening and I definitely recommend it!
January 23, 2022
Rich people talking about how they are trying really really really hard to not be assholes while being rich.
Flippancy aside, the problem we all face (including someone like myself who lives well below the federal poverty level and exclusively on welfare because of severe chronic illness) is that we keep treating the problem of moralizing capitalism as if it is solely an individual responsibility. We all (or most of us) feel discomfort with how unfair it all is. While I'm poor in the US, I still live a lifestyle that would be considered very comfortable to half the planet. I'm wearing pajamas made with cotton picked with child labor, processed and then sewn by exploited adult labor. The laptop on which I type this is made of coltan, dug up by child labor and then processed and made into computer by exploited adult labor. Our entire material comfort exists because of the suffering of other people. The more material comfort we enjoy, the more suffering has gone into that comfort. And yet, opting out of that material comfort individually may make us feel less guilty but, in the end, does nothing to end that suffering. So, what to do? For Sherman's subjects, the answer is to focus on feeling less guilty, trying to constrain that comfort a bit, and being nice.
Of course, we could all band together and work to make a system that requires far less suffering. But that will also mean less comfort, especially for those at the top. And we have to all do it together or we'll simply each be guilty but comfortable alone.
Flippancy aside, the problem we all face (including someone like myself who lives well below the federal poverty level and exclusively on welfare because of severe chronic illness) is that we keep treating the problem of moralizing capitalism as if it is solely an individual responsibility. We all (or most of us) feel discomfort with how unfair it all is. While I'm poor in the US, I still live a lifestyle that would be considered very comfortable to half the planet. I'm wearing pajamas made with cotton picked with child labor, processed and then sewn by exploited adult labor. The laptop on which I type this is made of coltan, dug up by child labor and then processed and made into computer by exploited adult labor. Our entire material comfort exists because of the suffering of other people. The more material comfort we enjoy, the more suffering has gone into that comfort. And yet, opting out of that material comfort individually may make us feel less guilty but, in the end, does nothing to end that suffering. So, what to do? For Sherman's subjects, the answer is to focus on feeling less guilty, trying to constrain that comfort a bit, and being nice.
Of course, we could all band together and work to make a system that requires far less suffering. But that will also mean less comfort, especially for those at the top. And we have to all do it together or we'll simply each be guilty but comfortable alone.
July 23, 2018
Good interviews, dull analysis. A promising book that was ultimately a slog read. It was hard to get a sense of the interviewees' personalities and keep the storylines straight as they were always interspersed with didactic pondering.
July 27, 2024
Said I wasn’t going to read nonfiction during bar studying, but I saw this mentioned at the back of Such A Fun Age, so here we are. Would recommend. It’s the kind of book that reminds you to take a hard look at your life and appreciate all the advantages you have. It’s fascinating seeing, through a purely descriptive lens (though there were a few catty lines/footnotes), the ways these people justify and grapple with having so much and spending so much, and also the discomfort and dissonance that being so wealthy in such an unequal world engenders. How they maintain self-images consistent with being ‘unentitled,’ ‘normal,’ and ‘prudent,’ but also how they worry about ensuring their children will also appreciate how fortunate they are. What was most fascinating of all, however, was seeing those same tendencies and traits reflected in myself, and reckoning a bit more with my own privilege and all the structural advantages that allow me to leverage and maintain that privilege.
October 25, 2023
This book does what it does very well - sets out to understand the patterns in how Americans with an abundance of money rationalize their entitlement to that money through invoking hard work, awareness of their luck (but not acknowledgement of structural advantages), “responsible” consumption, gratitude, niceness, and “giving back”, and in the process obscure the structural supports for socioeconomic inequality.
It was fascinating, and at times uncomfortably close to home, even though my household wouldn’t have qualified for this study.
It was also… very academic. Which is what it is! But not my favorite style of book, hence the 4 stars.
I heard of this book while listening to the first episode of the podcast Classy, which was also fascinating and recommended (and less academic).
Excellently narrated on audio.
It was fascinating, and at times uncomfortably close to home, even though my household wouldn’t have qualified for this study.
It was also… very academic. Which is what it is! But not my favorite style of book, hence the 4 stars.
I heard of this book while listening to the first episode of the podcast Classy, which was also fascinating and recommended (and less academic).
Excellently narrated on audio.
February 7, 2021
More like 3.5. I think it was a really great idea. I like that the author really made very wealthy people answer questions that they might not have ever been asked otherwise. I was very annoyed at the people making $500,000+ calling themselves upper middle class lol.
The reason for a lower rating was because it was quite repetitive.
The reason for a lower rating was because it was quite repetitive.
June 20, 2022
Fascinating look into the minds of affluent households living in New York City.
While not scientifically rigorous and more of a series of interviews, the themes in this book made me think about who deserves wealth, what legitimizes wealth from societal expectations, and how familial and gender dynamics interact with wealth.
While not scientifically rigorous and more of a series of interviews, the themes in this book made me think about who deserves wealth, what legitimizes wealth from societal expectations, and how familial and gender dynamics interact with wealth.
January 8, 2025
Not the fault of the author at all, but this read became almost too infuriating to finish at times. It was difficult to read about how the 1% thinks about their own financial state to the point that many of them wouldn't say that they're "rich". The revelation that was most upsetting to me was the idea that there are winners and losers and they shouldn't feel bad that they happen to be some of the winners. The complicity was pretty appalling especially when we collectively have the power to make bridge narrow the gap between the haves and have nots. The read was illuminating and well written though so I still thought this was a solid read.
February 6, 2021
A thoughtful/valuable thesis and genuinely fascinating depiction of the power of rationalization.
October 26, 2021
3.5
an interesting sociological look at how the rich view and interpret their wealth. could feel very repetitive at times.
an interesting sociological look at how the rich view and interpret their wealth. could feel very repetitive at times.
August 25, 2023
Fantastic read; really helped me frame how to think about how I think about money, wealth, and socio-economic "place"
October 12, 2020
I chose this because it was quoted at the beginning of "Such a Fun Age" by Kiley Reid, and I was intrigued.
It's an academic study, but I liked it and thought it was interesting. However, after the first 3 chapters, I felt like I'd gotten the point. The "Methodological Appendix" at the end was one of my favorite parts.
It's an academic study, but I liked it and thought it was interesting. However, after the first 3 chapters, I felt like I'd gotten the point. The "Methodological Appendix" at the end was one of my favorite parts.
January 18, 2021
Really interesting material but hard to read due to the dry, academic writing style.
October 2, 2023
Mostly a sociology book, but highly fascinating psychoanalysis makes up for the dry academia parts
Displaying 1 - 30 of 181 reviews