Those who are of the opinion that money will do everything may reasonably be expected to do everything for money.

The price you pay for believing everything's for sale

There's something almost musical about the way this observation catches us in our own logic. If you genuinely believe that money solves every problem—that it's the real currency of meaning, success, and happiness—then you've essentially promised yourself away. You've become someone who can be moved, motivated, or compromised by the right price tag, because consistency demands it.

The tricky part is that most of us don't hold this belief cleanly. We tell ourselves money isn't everything while simultaneously organizing our lives around getting more of it. We stay in situations we hate, compromise on values we claim matter, betray people we care about—all for financial security or advancement. Then we feel confused about why we're compromised. Franklin's point isn't really about greed; it's about recognizing the price you've already paid by holding money as your highest principle.

The freedom isn't in despising money. It's in knowing what else you value enough to occasionally say no for. Once you've established that certain things—your integrity, your time, your relationships—aren't for sale at any price, money returns to being what it actually is: useful, but not ultimate. That clarity tends to make people less desperate, more principled, and often paradoxically more successful.