In today's world, having money has allowed people who are extremely uncool to think that they're cool and carry it like that. People who really are cool and people who really are artists and have ideas have to literally turn in their cool card to society just to make it past the age of 28.

Money buys coolness, talent pays the price

There's something genuinely disorienting about how wealth has become a shortcut to credibility. Money can now buy the appearance of coolness—the right clothes, the right events, the right associations—without any of the actual substance underneath. Meanwhile, people who are genuinely creative or interesting often face a strange social penalty for it. The musician stays broke. The artist questions everything. The person with real ideas doesn't fit neatly into whatever's trending.

What makes this observation sting is how it describes a real generational trap. By your late twenties, you're supposed to have optimized yourself into something marketable and stable. Authenticity starts feeling like a luxury only the wealthy can afford to display casually. If you're not rich enough to be eccentric, being genuinely weird or uncommercial just reads as unsuccessful. You trade your actual interests for a version of yourself that works better on a LinkedIn profile.

The darker part is recognizing how this shapes who succeeds and who doesn't. The people with resources can afford to be themselves while the ambitious ones with actual talent often have to become smaller versions of their ideas just to survive. It's not about jealousy—it's about noticing that the scoreboard we use to measure someone's worth has become almost completely disconnected from whether they actually matter.