USUALLY, the words “love” and “money” are not expressed as a pair, except to disparage the inappropriate mixing of the two. Love of money is something else, a bit more acceptable. What’s wrong with materialism? Well, it’s only dubious as an expression of affection.
Relationships are somehow diminished when characterized as mercenary. The adjective after all refers to being motivated only by material gain. As a noun, a mercenary is a soldier for hire serving in foreign armies. Though even regular soldiers under their own flags get a wage (the root literal meaning of mercenary), they are considered patriots. Even if paid, regular soldiers are elevated to a status higher than those fighting merely for money. The difference lies in the latter’s penchant to change allegiances when lured by higher fees. Pirating, in the corporate context of jumping to another company for a bigger car, smacks of mercenary leanings. (Do you need a bigger car when working from home?)
With the rise of outsourcing and the increasingly contractual nature of employment, attachments are being defined by monetary considerations. Company loyalty can now seem quaint and outdated, replaced by the more commercial motivation of a transaction. The gig economy is project based, and paid accordingly. No emotional ties are expected.
The attributes of company loyalty, so nostalgically missed by some, can be lopsided in favor of the employer. Management may require commitment in terms of longer work hours, flawless performance, and an always-on accessibility. Not all companies reward such dedication. Whining about being underpaid for demanding conditions can be dismissed as being too mercenary — is money all you think about? Sometimes, it crosses my mind, Sir.
Should monetary concerns necessarily be viewed as devaluation of dedication to either a job or a relationship?
Even relationships with lifetime partners have a financial dimension. The terms “breadwinner” and “provider” refer to the financial ability of a partner to consistently meet the daily costs of living and afford life’s amenities. Even in a DINK (Double Income, No Kids) family which sometimes includes a dog, the assignment of fiscal responsibility is clear. One paycheck covers utilities and groceries, the other handles travel, car acquisition, home mortgage, club dues, and plumbing repair. Clothes and kicks (sneakers to you) are charged to the appropriate user on separate credit cards.
The more obvious financial strings have to do with transactional relationships. The oldest profession of landscape architecture (not the one you might have been thinking of) involves the exchange of cash for services rendered. This transactional nature of cash-for-service is theoretically bereft of emotional traction. And yet a personal intimacy is possible too, even if unexpected. One can get overly dependent on a landscape gardener, especially when the flowers bloom in wild abandon at the touch of her green thumb. Thus, what starts out as a merely transactional and uninvolved horticultural relationship can lead to the unchartered waters of proprietary possessiveness and an ever-clingier neediness — you have to come here right now and check on my bonsai garden.
Only friendship perhaps is free of financial strings. Except for splitting the bill for lunch or maybe a joint trip abroad, the financially uncomplicated relationship of friends provides a stress-free setting. This is the reason why introducing a financial aspect to the relationship, as in going into business with friends or borrowing money from them (a friend in need is a pest) complicates what was an otherwise comfortable situation.
When a lifelong friend, by some freak of fate like an acquisition or merger, becomes one’s boss, the once easygoing intimacy is redefined. A financial angle is interlaced with a hierarchical strand involving performance rating and budget targets. Such a combination is sure to blur the material and the immaterial — we used to ride the jeepney together from school.
Maybe, financial strings are just realities we choose to ignore. There is some discomfort in putting a relationship in a commercial perspective, even when it is partly in that category.
There are financial strings attached to certain relationships, especially when these are extended. These should be made clear from the start, and brought up without any embarrassment. Ignoring these financial attachments leads to a clash of expectations. Then, the story often has a bad ending… with no sequel in the works.
Tony Samson is Chairman and CEO of TOUCH xda
