price as the main measureMoney can tell us how much someone is willing to pay for something. It cannot tell us how much that thing is worth to people and society.
1. The Problem with the Old Model
Money was created to make the exchange of goods and services easier. It means we do not have to swap a sack of grain for a pair of shoes or produce everything we need to live ourselves.
For thousands of years, it was one of the most useful tools in the development of civilisation. The problem begins when a tool intended to serve people starts deciding what we consider important.
The modern world increasingly judges people, organisations and activities through the lens of money. A company's worth is measured by its profits. The value of work by its pay. A product's value by its price. A person's success by their bank balance.
As a result, many decisions are no longer guided by the question “Is this good for people?” but by the question “Is this profitable?”
If making a less durable product is more profitable than making one that lasts, the market often chooses the less durable option.
If selling a medicine to a small group of wealthy people is more profitable than making it available to everyone who needs it, the market chooses the more lucrative option.
If cutting down a forest is more profitable than protecting an ecosystem, the financial calculation very often points away from society's long-term interests.
Money measures exchange value very well. It is much less effective at measuring the value of health, security, social relationships, quality of life or the natural environment.
This raises a fundamental question. Does the fact that something generates a high profit automatically mean it has great value for people and society?
Never before have we had so much knowledge, technology and productive capacity. We can produce food for billions of people, treat diseases once considered incurable and communicate instantly with the other side of the world. Yet access to many of the things people need still depends above all on how much money they have.
That is why more and more people are beginning to ask not how to acquire more money, but whether money is still a good measure of what truly matters.
2. Why It Once Made Sense
For most of history, money was an extraordinarily useful tool.
It made exchanging goods easier, allowed people to compare the value of products and services, and enabled cooperation between strangers.
In a world of limited communication, small local communities and modest organisational capacity, it was an enormous step forward.
It helped societies move from simple exchange to more complex economic structures. It allowed people to specialise in what they did best and then exchange the fruits of their work with others.
It accelerated trade, the development of crafts, investment and larger collective undertakings.
For many centuries, money increased societies' capacity to organise production, work and exchange.
In this sense, money fulfilled its historical role.
It was one of the tools that made modern civilisation possible.
3. Why It Is No Longer Enough
Money is a highly effective tool for exchange. It tells us how much someone is willing to pay for a product, service or resource. The problem is that price and value are not the same thing.
Prices emerge in markets through supply and demand. They primarily express the relationship between the availability of goods and people's willingness to pay a given amount. They tell us much less about whether something is good for people, society or the environment.
As a result, a money-based system primarily rewards the ability to generate revenue, rather than actual usefulness. Necessary and valuable work may be poorly paid, while activities that offer little social benefit can generate enormous profits.
The greater the role of money, the more often decisions about health, education, the environment, security and social relationships are judged in terms of financial return. A tool created to support people gradually becomes the criterion that determines what we consider important.
A further problem is that many things essential to quality of life have no natural market price. Social trust, a sense of security, family bonds, a healthy environment and psychological wellbeing cannot easily be priced. Yet they underpin every society.
Price answers the question: “How much is someone willing to pay?” Real value answers the question: “What benefit does this bring to people, society and future generations?” The answers are not always the same.
4. Examples from the World
The COVID-19 pandemic provided one of the clearest examples of the gap between money and real value. In many countries, it suddenly became apparent that society depended above all on doctors, nurses, paramedics, care workers, drivers, warehouse staff and food suppliers. Their work proved essential to the health and safety of millions. Yet many of these occupations have long been paid far less than professions involving capital trading or speculative activity.
Comparing a paramedic with a stockbroker illustrates the point. A paramedic acts to protect people's lives, health and safety. It is hard to imagine a modern society functioning without that work. Yet a paramedic's pay is often many times lower than the earnings of people who trade financial instruments. This does not show that either profession is unnecessary. It shows that pay is not the same as the real social value of the work being done.
A similar mechanism can be seen in healthcare. Every year, thousands of fundraising campaigns are organised to pay for treatment for children and adults. In many cases, the doctors, medicines, medical technology and knowledge needed to save a life already exist. The problem is not the absence of a solution, but a lack of money to access it. A person dies not because medicine cannot help, but because they cannot afford the help.
This is a stark example of a human creation becoming more important than its creators.
The same pattern is clear in environmental protection and the production of goods. Food grown with fewer chemical inputs is usually more expensive than mass-produced food. Products designed to last for years often cost more than disposable goods or those that wear out quickly. The paradox is that choices more beneficial to human health and the environment can be less accessible precisely because they cost more.
The contemporary economy also offers many examples of deliberately shortened product lifespans. Consumer electronics, household appliances and some digital devices are increasingly designed to require replacement after a few years. For manufacturers, this means more sales and higher revenue. For people and the environment, it means greater use of raw materials and energy, and growing amounts of waste.
Price also very often fails to reflect a product's actual quality. Goods with similar production costs can sell for vastly different prices. Market value is frequently determined by branding, prestige, marketing or customers' willingness to pay a particular amount. Price therefore primarily reflects supply and demand, rather than durability, quality or usefulness.
This mechanism is also visible in infrastructure design. Modern roads, buildings and other infrastructure are usually designed to optimise costs rather than maximise durability. This means balancing expected service life against the expenditure an investor is willing to accept. From an economic perspective, this is rational. From the perspective of long-term value to society, it is not.
All these examples point towards a similar conclusion. Money is very effective at helping to organise the exchange of goods and services, but it does not guarantee that decisions based on financial calculations will also be the best decisions for people, society and the environment.
All these examples lead to the same conclusion. Money is good at measuring purchasing power and the level of demand. It is much less effective at assessing what truly matters for health, quality of life, society and future generations.
5. What Research and Practice Tell Us
Its Effects on People
Research shows that money is more than a medium of exchange. It can affect how we see ourselves, other people and social relationships.
Psychologists Edward Deci and Richard Ryan showed that lasting wellbeing rests primarily on autonomy, relationships, competence and a sense of meaning. Money can motivate action, but does not in itself create fulfilment or happiness. [source]
Research from the MIDUS project found that people who placed very high importance on money scored lower across many dimensions of psychological wellbeing. The greater the importance attached to money, the poorer quality of life could be. [source]
Further research points to something even more troubling. Kathleen Vohs, Nicole Mead and Miranda Goode showed that simply reminding people of money reduced their inclination to ask for help and to help others. Those who had been reminded of money were more likely to choose to work alone and keep a greater distance from other people. [source]
Agata Gąsiorowska's research suggests that focusing on money can increase self-centredness, a sense of control and a belief in one's own agency, while weakening the ability to take another person's perspective. In this sense, money can act as a powerful psychological reward that directs attention towards the self and personal goals. [source]
Research by Paul Piff and colleagues, published in PNAS, goes further. Across a series of studies, people with more resources were more likely to break rules, cheat, lie, accept unethical behaviour and pursue their own interests at others' expense. The authors also highlighted the role of more favourable attitudes towards greed. [source]
Researchers at SWPS University note that even exposure to money can activate a market-oriented mindset: a way of thinking based on calculation, self-interest and maximising personal benefit. This mindset can weaken a sense of community and encourage people to treat relationships as transactions. [source]
Research by Jordi Quoidbach and colleagues found that greater wealth may be associated with a reduced ability to enjoy simple everyday experiences. Money may therefore expand our possibilities while making us less receptive to small, tangible sources of happiness. [source]
Research on materialism points to an even deeper problem. Organising life around money, status and possessions is more often associated with lower life satisfaction, greater anxiety, loneliness and poorer wellbeing. Meta-analyses confirm that the more importance people attach to materialism, the harder it is to find a lasting sense of fulfilment. [source] [source]
Research on inequality shows that a system based on accumulating money also creates social costs. A meta-analysis of 26 studies found an association between greater income inequality and a higher risk of depression. This suggests that money affects not only individuals, but may also worsen the mental health of entire societies. [source]
At its darkest, the logic of profit fuels activities that destroy lives. Kidnapping for ransom, drug trafficking and human trafficking show that when people are subordinated to economic gain, they can be treated as sources of profit rather than as human beings. The UNODC describes human trafficking as the exploitation of people through force, deception or coercion for profit. [source]
We can therefore ask whether money is merely a neutral tool. A growing body of research and examples suggests that, when it becomes the main measure of success, it can intensify selfishness, greed, social distance and transactional thinking, making relationships subordinate to the pursuit of profit.
Its Effects on the Things We Make
Research on the life cycle of road surfaces shows that more durable solutions can reduce material use, repair frequency, maintenance costs and environmental impact over the long term. Every repair requires more asphalt, aggregates, energy, fuel and labour for repairs and infrastructure maintenance. Yet in practice, options with lower initial costs are often chosen, even if they require more repairs and consume more resources over the years. [study] [source]
A similar mechanism operates in product design. In many industries, selling the next product matters more than maximising the durability of the one already in use. This is known as planned obsolescence: designing goods so that, after a certain period, they need to be replaced or superseded by a new model. From a sales perspective, this increases manufacturers' revenue. For people and the environment, it means greater consumption of resources and energy, and more waste. [source]
The same logic can be seen in fashion. Research on “planned fashion obsolescence” shows that frequent changes in trends do not arise solely from people's practical needs. Fashion becomes a mechanism for encouraging people to replace clothes sooner, even when the garments they already own still serve their purpose. Some purchases therefore respond not to an actual need, but to pressure to fit current market trends. [study]
This mechanism extends far beyond clothing. Similar patterns appear in the automotive industry, architecture, interior design and public spaces. Markets tend towards standardisation and the production of a limited range of models because this lowers costs and increases profitability. People gain more choice between brands, but not always between genuinely different solutions. Many products are therefore designed primarily for financial return, rather than maximum durability, individual needs or long-term social value. Instead of adapting solutions as closely as possible to people's diverse needs, markets often offer a limited range of designs that can be manufactured cheaply and sold on a mass scale.
We tend to imagine that a world without money would be more restricted, less varied and less efficient. Yet many constraints we now consider natural arise precisely because design is subordinated to costs, sales and profitability — the logic of money.
We are so used to these constraints that we often stop noticing them. We no longer ask what would be best for people and the world, but what is just good enough to be produced and sold at a profit.
6. The Essence of the Change
If the only problem were the unequal distribution of money, a fairer distribution within the existing system would be enough.
If the only problem were a lack of money, increasing its supply would be enough.
But the problem runs deeper.
Money does more than mediate exchange. It can shape our thinking, social relationships, motivation and moral decisions. It can intensify self-focus, weaken empathy, place greater weight on self-interest and turn human relationships into transactions.
If even exposure to money can activate a mindset of calculating gains and losses, it is difficult to expect the problems generated by this mechanism to disappear while money remains the central organising force of all social life.
That is why the essence of the change is not to improve money.
Nor is it to replace one currency with another.
It is to move gradually away from money as the main tool for organising social life.
The ultimate direction is a society in which money is no longer needed.
This does not mean abandoning technology, production, exchange, planning or cooperation.
It means building ways for people to meet their needs without making access to everything depend on having money.
If the most precious things in life — health, relationships, security, knowledge, trust and a sense of meaning — have no price that truly reflects their worth, why do we still allow a tool created solely for exchange to determine the direction of our civilisation?
