Money doesn't mind if we say it's evil, it goes from strength to

Hear the haunting words of Martin Amis, whose pen carved truth into the illusions of modern life: “Money doesn’t mind if we say it’s evil, it goes from strength to strength. It’s a fiction, an addiction, and a tacit conspiracy.” These words are both warning and revelation, exposing the strange paradox of wealth. For though men curse it, though sages declare it vile, though scriptures warn of its snares, still money thrives, indifferent to judgment, moving silently through all nations like an invisible king.

Amis calls it a fiction, for money itself is nothing but paper, metal, or now the unseen digits of a screen. It has no value except the value we agree to give it. Yet this fiction rules over kings and peasants alike. Empires rise and fall upon its currents. The soldier fights, the farmer toils, the merchant schemes—all because of this shadow made real. And though we know it to be an invention of men, still we bow before it, as if it were a god.

He calls it an addiction, for money intoxicates the heart. A little satisfies for a moment, but soon more is desired. Like the opium that enslaves the body, wealth enslaves the will. Men betray their friends, nations betray their ideals, families crumble, and wars ignite—all for the lust of accumulation. History overflows with examples: the greed of colonial empires plundering continents, the fever of Wall Street that led to the Great Depression, the ruthless hands of oligarchs gripping nations in chains. Each time, men knew the danger, yet they hungered still, unable to resist.

Amis declares it also a tacit conspiracy, for all of society plays along with the lie. We know money has no soul, no inherent worth, yet we build our lives around it. We teach children to chase it, we measure success by it, and we judge others by how much of it they possess. It is an agreement none dare break, for to step outside it is to risk starvation or obscurity. Thus, we conspire together to maintain the fiction, each person pretending it is real, until reality itself bends to the illusion.

Consider the Roman Empire in its decline. Gold once poured from conquered lands, but as the empire weakened, the treasury grew empty. To hide the truth, coins were debased, filled with lesser metals. The fiction of money continued, but the people soon felt its hollowness as bread grew scarce and trust eroded. Rome fell not only to barbarians but to the collapse of its monetary illusion. This stands as a lesson: the power of money endures only while belief in it holds.

Yet Amis’s words do not demand despair. They call us to awareness. To recognize that money is a fiction is to strip it of its enchantment. To know it is an addiction is to guard ourselves from slavery. To see it as conspiracy is to resist letting it define our worth. The wise may use money, but they will never worship it. The fool worships it, and in doing so becomes its servant.

Let this be your lesson: live not for money, but for virtue, for wisdom, for love. Let money serve as a tool, but never allow it to become your master. Measure yourself not by what you possess, but by what you create, what you give, what you endure with dignity. Build communities where generosity is greater than greed, and where strength is drawn from shared purpose rather than hoarded wealth.

Thus is the teaching: money is nothing but an illusion made mighty by belief, an addiction fed by desire, and a conspiracy woven by all who play along. Break the spell. Use it wisely, hold it lightly, and live for that which endures when the fiction fades. For no coin, no bill, no number in the bank can outlast the true treasures of the soul.