The Art of Money Getting by P. T. Barnum
If Samuel Smiles’s Self-Help is the originator of the genre made by the financial, social, psychological gurus, this breezy little pamphlet by P. T. Barnum — showman, entertainer, huckster — is the genre’s early-stage distillation. Barnum believes very firmly in making money. A man who lived and worked has he did could hardly say anything else. And he talks in the manner of rich men nowadays who insist in their own paid courses or books that their life’s crowning glory would be making you rich, not them.
Greed, for want of a better word, is good, Barnum more or less writes: because men ought to identify their talents and to use them, for the good of others but for their own good best of all. And why, on its face, would that be wrong?
Just as one meets, in Luddite, imbecile Britain today, quite a lot of people who believe that having any exposure to the stock market is a terrible risk, or a sin, or something else, so too, one assumes Barnum encountered people in his own day who were afraid of wanting to earn money.
It might be immoral; it might be greedy; it might be covetous, such people may have thought. But Barnum is a showman. Always eager to win over a crowd. He knows how to give himself some moral cover.
Barnum quotes Benjamin Franklin often. Likewise, quotes the stories of Solomon from the Old Testament. Wise Puritans who made their money by interest, Barnum says, were no less holy than their coreligionists who made theirs by toil. Barnum must introduce, he thinks, his readers to many concepts. They must be taught very basic accounting. That it is reasonable to spend less than one makes and to put the remainder aside.
They must be taught that if someone earns more than you, you should not seek to match them in expenditure and extravagance. That the children of privilege often spend their money foolishly, because they have not had the experience of having to earn it for themselves. He believes that the smoking and chewing of tobacco must be bad, at least as much for the health as for the wallet. Meanwhile, it is a good thing to read the papers, for there is information in them, and things are happening so fast in these days of steam ships and telegraphs that a canny businessman would want to know what it is that’s going on around the world.
And you should treat your customers well — as you would like to be treated — and do your job well. And on customers, be prepared take their rudeness and insults. They are paying you at least in part to be rude to you without getting a rude word back, or a punch to the face.
As for good, solid workers of yours, keep them, pay them within limits if that is what they want you to do. But be prepared to fire them for being impertinent and asking for more than their labour would justify.
Much of Barnum’s advice is, of course, extreme in its simplicity. He introduces his readers to the concept of the false economy. He tells them that a debt for no reason is a sad event, a millstone, but that debt taken to earn money later might be no bad thing. He assures people that they should find what kind of work they have a particular genius for — and everyone must have one — and that anyone sane must do everything now, today, that can be attempted now and not put off. Think of the stars, he says: excelsior! And think not of the gutter.
Others of his pieces of advice are more interesting. Barnum believes profoundly in advertising. A man must put in at least eight adverts, he says. The first one is missed by the customer. The second and third are seen but not examined. Perhaps the fourth, a man might mention to his wife. It is only after quite a few that the advert is actually read; and it is the steady trickle of continuous advertising that will accompany any eventual purchases, and give the customer confidence in your good faith.
Much of this advice is ordinary. But of course, in the theoretical world in which it could be followed, this book would possibly do a reader some good.
A reader who took Barnum at his world would never get into ruinous debt, would work superhumanly hard, would be respected at whatever trade he took up — which would without doubt be the thing he was put on earth to do — would make prudent investments and savings, would be not a lender as he was not a borrower, and would have moderate and economic habits. He would not smoke or drink his money away. Such a person would no doubt get money, and would possibly keep it. Not in large amounts, perhaps — life is cruel; but there are chances in this world some fail to take, and there is only so far a nation of moderate businessmen can go on the road to great prosperity.
Such a man might do well. But only if he followed the guru’s rules. Only if he did precisely as he was told.