That’s the verdict of Sir James Goldsmith, the financier turned politician. A new convert to the Socialist Party, perhaps? Unfortunately, no. When Sir James says that money is irrelevant, he means he has so much of the stuff that he couldn’t spend it all if he tried, he is worth £1,200 million. However, this hasn’t stopped him from making the effort, and he recently pledged £20 million to the campaign for a referendum on the European Union and its single currency, thereby donating irrelevant money to an irrelevant cause.
Sir James’s offensive comment was quoted in the Sunday Times's eighth annual tribute to Britain’s super rich, published in April. This year’s wallow in the cream of the capitalist class appraised the fortunes of five hundred fat cats, worth collectively a staggering £70 billion. This figure is a massive 28 percent higher than that of last year, the highest total since the survey began in 1989:
“Britain’s rich became more than £15.5 billion richer in 1995 in what proved to be a vintage year for personal wealth creation. "
Recalling your miserly two or three percent pay rise (assuming you got a rise at all), you may be forgiven for wondering how you managed to miss out on this bonanza. For most of us, of course, it was more likely to have been a “vintage year” for debt, job insecurity, negative equity and the inexorable struggle to make ends meet. You may be wondering just how the fortunate few came by their even greater wealth. Was it hard work? Thrift? Fiddling their expenses? On the contrary; they didn’t actually do anything:
“A rare combination of record stock market performance, a sharp increase in land prices, a steady rise in art values and a thriving market in the sale of companies has created a sudden improvement in the lot of the rich. ”
If only you’d sensed that thriving market in the sale of companies, you could have got yourself down to the local car boot sale and unloaded a few of those old companies you’ve had cluttering up the garage for years.
Richer and richer
Yes, it’s a funny old world isn’t it?
There you are, packing in the overtime to cam a few extra quid, while Hans Rausing has seen his wealth rise by a stratospheric £880 million—and that’s following his retirement! In fact the average increase in assets amongst this tiny group was £30 million. There were so many millionaires with bigger fortunes queuing to get onto the Sunday Times list that the threshold for entry had to be raised from £25 million in 1995 to £35 million this year. And if these estimates seem astounding, bear in mind that they do not include cash in private accounts!
So what are your chances of joining this well-heeled band? Even less than your chances of winning the lottery:
". .. no lottery winner has yet made it to the 500 despite . . . rollover jackpots. Until a . . . winner emerges to claim £40m, the most that a winner can hope for is to scrape into the top 1,000 where the bottom line in our database is £10m. Not a bad sum but not serious money."
No, not serious money. If you want to play with the big boys (and they are mostly boys—only 8 percent are women), you won’t be taken seriously without at least thirty five million to your name.
The big boys are people like David Sainsbury, of the supermarket giant, who is worth £1.26 billion. His “salary” rose from £311,000 to £389,000 last year, a cool 25 percent increase. Not that impressive, some might say, for the boss of Britain’s leading grocer. However, this didn’t include his whopping £37.5 million share of the company’s dividends. Interestingly, Sainsbury is quoted as saying: “If I vote at the next general election, it will be for Tony Blair.” Confirmation, if any were needed, of whose interests “New” Labour represents.
Other top dogs include Viscount Rothermere the newspaper publisher, whose family’s wealth tops £1 billion, and there are “unconfirmed reports that his personal wealth in cash alone matches that sum”. Then there is the Duke of Westminster, worth £1,650 million, who “tries to stay in touch with the harsher side of life”. Apparently, he recently took his two children to a drug rehabilitation project “to show them what it was like”. It’s a bit like us going to visit a stately home to see how the other half lives, but instead of pleasure by proxy, the Duke likes a little pain by proxy, just in ease he’s deprived of the pleasure of knowing just how stinking rich and privileged he is.
Different world
Not all aristocrats have fared as well as the Duke, however. The aristocracy of course is no longer in the position of ascendancy that it once was, and incomes for many have reduced dramatically in recent times. If you’ve fallen on hard times lately, you may be eager to hear how these pillars of the community have coped; they do, after all, have much more substantial commitments. Well, the answer can be very simple:
“Though landowning aristocrats no longer dominate the 500 list, they will not disappear completely for several generations. As Simon Howard has shown with his stewardship of Castle Howard in North Yorkshire, it simply takes the auction of one £5 million painting to provide enough liquidity for some years . . ."
So there you have it. You know' those ugly old Van Goghs and Picassos which are making your drawing room look untidy? Get them along to the boot sale with your old companies and you’re quids in.
One of the interesting things about the Sunday Times’s survey is its raison d'etre. It’s difficult to ascertain whether it’s aimed at envious poorer readers, who may drool over the enormous fortunes enjoyed by others, or if it’s aimed at the people who actually feature in it, so that they might also envy those with bigger wads, while at the same time feeling superior to those with less. For many it’s a double-edged sword: if they’re not included they complain, yet when they are included they still complain that they’re either under- or overvalued, depending presumably on whether they are tax exiles or not.
Clearly, the people in this survey inhabit a different world, a world that the rest of us can barely imagine. Many inherited their wealth, while the majority are “self-made” men. Defenders of capitalism try to persuade us that entrepreneurs have acquired their money through some sort of super-human effort, and that they deserve more than the rest of us. But there are only twenty-four hours in a day; only so much work that any one person can do; and whose contribution is more valuable? The entrepreneur who chooses to work ten or twelve hours a day, or the farmer, or miner, of fitter, or firefighter? No matter how hard a worker toils, they will never be rich—but somebody else will. Yes, the fortunes of the wealthy are indeed the results of hard work: yours and mine.
The Sunday Times has at least cleared up a little problem for the government: the whereabouts of the mythical “feel-good factor”, for which the Tories have been patiently waiting to persuade a jaded electorate to vote for them. The feel-good factor is alive and well and living with Britain’s rich, while the feel-conned factor, as ever, stubbornly resides with the working class.
Nick Brunskill
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