Someday I want to be rich. Some people get so rich they lose all

Hear the clever voice of Rita Rudner, master of wit, who declared: “Someday I want to be rich. Some people get so rich they lose all respect for humanity. That's how rich I want to be.” At first, it appears only a jest, a light-hearted twist of irony. Yet beneath the laughter, her words reveal a profound reflection on wealth, humanity, and the dangerous seduction of abundance. For she points to the strange truth that when riches overflow, the soul is often tested—and too many fail, losing sight of compassion and respect.

The meaning of her jest is double-edged. On the one hand, it is humorous, mocking the absurdity of desiring riches so vast that one could become blind to the value of others. On the other, it is a sharp critique of how wealth without humility can corrupt. To lose respect for humanity is to sever oneself from the very fabric of community and compassion that gives life its meaning. Rudner’s irony makes us laugh, but it also makes us think: why do so many who gain the world forget the people within it?

History provides many examples of this truth. Consider the life of Croesus, king of Lydia, whose wealth was legendary. He believed his riches made him the happiest of men, yet when asked by the wise Solon, he was reminded that true happiness lay not in wealth but in virtue and in the end of life well-lived. Croesus, consumed by his riches, later faced ruin and defeat. His story is an echo of Rudner’s joke: that wealth without respect for life and humanity is a hollow treasure, easily lost.

Yet the story of Andrew Carnegie shows another path. One of the richest men of his time, he amassed great fortunes through industry. And though many criticized his methods, in the latter part of his life he turned his wealth toward the building of libraries, schools, and foundations. In doing so, he remembered humanity, and his riches became not only a monument to himself but a gift to generations. Thus, the choice lies always before the wealthy: to forget humanity or to uplift it.

The origin of Rudner’s remark lies in the tradition of comedy, which has long been a mirror for society’s excesses. Like the jesters of old who spoke truth to kings under the cloak of laughter, she uses humor to reveal the folly of human desire. To say she wishes to be “that rich” is not truly to wish for arrogance, but to expose the absurdity of it. Her words remind us that the pursuit of wealth is often blind, and that unchecked, it can lead to the loss of what is most precious: our connection to one another.

The lesson, child of tomorrow, is this: seek not wealth that blinds you, but wealth that opens your eyes. If riches come to you, let them be tools of compassion, not chains of arrogance. Remember that money can buy comfort, but it cannot buy respect, love, or meaning. To be truly “rich” is not to lose respect for humanity, but to deepen it—to use your abundance to serve, to uplift, and to leave behind a legacy of good.

To live by this wisdom, cultivate humility in prosperity and generosity in abundance. If fortune blesses you, share it; if it passes you by, do not envy those who have it, but measure wealth by the richness of your spirit. Honor those who serve you, care for those in need, and never let possessions make you forget the value of people. For the true treasure of life is not stored in gold, but in the bonds of respect and love we give to others.

Thus, the wit of Rita Rudner endures. “Some people get so rich they lose all respect for humanity. That's how rich I want to be.” Let us laugh, yes—but let us also learn. For in her jest lies wisdom: riches without respect are ruin, but riches with humanity can transform the world. May you choose always the latter, and may your wealth—whether of coin, of love, or of wisdom—be a blessing, not a curse.