Rich men's sons are seldom rich men's fathers.

Hear the piercing wisdom of Herbert Kaufman, who wrote: “Rich men’s sons are seldom rich men’s fathers.” These words are not about wealth alone, but about the inheritance of character, the loss of struggle, and the quiet decay that comes when comfort replaces hunger. Kaufman speaks not of gold, but of grit — for it is not fortune that makes a man great, but the fire that drives him to create it. The son born into ease often forgets the storms that shaped his father. He inherits the treasure, but not the toil; the result, but not the reason. Thus, the circle of rise and fall continues — the strong build, the soft squander, and the world renews itself through hardship.

The origin of this quote lies in Kaufman’s reflections on ambition and decline, written during the early twentieth century — an age of titans, of self-made men who built empires with their hands and vision. He saw how wealth, once earned, too easily became a cushion that dulled the edge of determination. The fathers, hardened by adversity, created greatness; their sons, raised in abundance, too often forgot the struggle that had once been the source of strength. Kaufman’s words are both warning and prophecy: unless each generation learns again the value of work and humility, the tower of prosperity will crumble under the weight of complacency.

The ancients knew this truth well. Hesiod, the Greek poet, wrote of the Five Ages of Man — the Golden, Silver, Bronze, Heroic, and Iron. He spoke of how each generation declined from the virtues of the last, until man became weaker, more selfish, more forgetful of the gods. So, too, did the Romans warn of decadence: the sons of conquerors became soft philosophers, content to dine on luxury while their empire decayed. This is the rhythm of history — wealth without wisdom becomes weakness, and success without struggle becomes seedless. It is not gold that sustains greatness, but the discipline of those who remember what it cost to earn it.

Consider the tale of Cornelius Vanderbilt, the steely magnate who built his fortune from nothing — born to a poor ferryman, he worked day and night until he commanded the seas and rails of America. Yet, within two generations, his heirs had squandered much of that fortune. They built mansions instead of industries, threw parties instead of building enterprises. The power that had been born of necessity faded in the arms of indulgence. As Kaufman foretold, the sons of rich men rarely become fathers of new wealth; they live in the glow of what was, not in the forging of what will be.

There is, in this truth, a quiet lesson about the nature of struggle. Hardship is the furnace in which greatness is tempered. Without it, the spirit grows idle; the mind loses its edge. The father, through labor, becomes wise; the son, through ease, becomes complacent. Yet this is not fate, but choice. Every generation has the chance to rise anew — to reclaim hunger, discipline, and purpose. It is not wealth that corrupts, but the forgetting of how it was won. The son who honors his father’s sweat will not lose what was gained; the son who scorns it will soon be ruled by others who still remember how to work.

To every man and woman who inherits success, Kaufman’s words are both a challenge and a calling: Do not rest on the labor of others. Earn your name again. For wealth that is merely held fades like dust, but wealth that is earned, through effort and imagination, multiplies the soul. The true inheritance is not money, but mindset — not gold, but grit. If your father built an empire, your task is not to guard its walls, but to build higher.

So let this be your lesson, O listener of the ages: never fear struggle, for it is the mother of greatness. Let your children see you labor, and teach them not what you have, but how you became. Guard them not from the world’s challenges, but from the softness that forgets their purpose. For the measure of a man is not in what he inherits, but in what he builds anew.

Thus, Herbert Kaufman’s wisdom stands as a mirror for all generations: “Rich men’s sons are seldom rich men’s fathers.” The cycle of creation and decline is not destiny — it is discipline. Let each new heart choose the harder road, and each new hand take up the tools of its own making. Then the lineage of greatness will not fade, but endure — not because of wealth preserved, but because of character reborn.