From “Money is Evil” to “Money is Power for Good”

When I was growing up, I used to think money was evil. Nearly every message I absorbed from television, movies, and even the culture around me reinforced that belief. Rich characters were portrayed as cruel, selfish, and out of touch. Think of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons—a greedy, cackling billionaire who literally wanted to block out the sun. Or Regina George and her “Plastics” crew in Mean Girls, using status and wealth as weapons to hurt others. Countless movies cast the rich businessman as the villain: the factory owner exploiting workers, the landlord squeezing tenants, the tycoon polluting rivers for profit. Add to that the popular saying, “money is the root of all evil,” and it’s no wonder I grew up telling myself a money script that equated wealth with corruption.

There were exceptions, though. For a brief time, I was completely enchanted by Michael J. Fox in The Secret of My Success. In that film, money wasn’t just about greed—it came with energy, excitement, and joy. The fast-paced lifestyle, the friends, the humour, the adventure—it all looked intoxicating. Yet looking back, what I really wanted wasn’t the money itself. It was the experiences: the sense of possibility, the freedom, and the thrill of doing something bold. That distinction—between wanting money and wanting what money makes possible—took me years to really understand.

Interestingly, my parents never instilled in me the belief that money was bad. Both were teachers, living solidly middle-class lives, and today they enjoy a very comfortable retirement. They modeled stability, responsibility, and comfort—not extravagance, but certainly not deprivation either. They wanted the same for me. But here’s the rub: for many in my generation and the ones after, achieving even “comfortable middle class” has become a stretch. Housing prices, wages that don’t keep up with inflation, and the decline of pensions mean that reaching our parents’ lifestyle is no small feat.

My grandparents’ story really drives this home. My grandfather was a longshoreman with a union job, and my grandmother didn’t work outside the home. Despite being a single-income household, they had enough to raise a family, pay the mortgage, and spend months every year vacationing in Hawaii. Imagine that now! Today, the idea of raising a family on one income—let alone funding annual tropical getaways—feels nearly impossible for most.

So when did my money mindset begin to shift? It happened when I stumbled across a book—unfortunately I can’t remember the title—that introduced me to the idea of “money scripts.” The author explained that we all carry stories about money, often inherited from our parents, shaped by the media, and reinforced by our own experiences. These scripts guide how we see money, how we use it, and even how much of it we allow ourselves to earn. The book invited readers to reflect on those stories and ask: Are they serving you? Or are they holding you back?

That concept was a revelation. I realized that my script—that money was inherently bad—wasn’t universal truth. It was a story I had absorbed. And worse, it was a story that kept me small. I began to see the difference between a scarcity mindset (believing there’s never enough, that the system is rigged, that wanting more is greedy) and an abundance mindset (believing that money can grow, opportunities can expand, and wealth can be used to create good in the world).

Now, I don’t deny that the system itself has serious flaws. The fact that billionaires hoard unimaginable sums while children starve in famines was at the heart of my original money script. It made me feel like turning away from money was a moral choice. But here’s what I’ve come to understand: me rejecting money doesn’t change that reality. My opting out of wealth doesn’t redistribute it to those in need. In fact, the opposite is true. By embracing money, by earning it, growing it, and using it responsibly, I actually gain the ability to create change.

Money in the hands of good people can fund charities, launch businesses that treat workers fairly, support art and culture, and amplify voices that need to be heard. Money allows people to leave toxic jobs, invest in their communities, and have the time and energy to give back. That’s the good side of money—and the side I’m choosing to lean into.

Today, I’m working on embracing abundance. Not only for myself, but for others too. I want to encourage people to rethink their own money scripts, to release the old stories of shame or scarcity, and to welcome wealth as a tool for independence, influence, and joy. Because if more of us stop believing that money is inherently bad—and instead see it as a force we can wield for good—we really can change the world. This is why I am embarking on a money education mission: to help others make the most of their money so they can reap the benefits. Through blogs, workshops, and conversations, I want to empower others, and that is where the real difference will be made.

If this resonates with you, I’d love for you to follow along with my work, join the conversation, and keep an eye out for my upcoming workshops. Together, we can rewrite our money scripts—and use money as a tool for freedom, joy, and change.