Wise heads say that money is important only when you haven’t got any — there are other kinds of wealth that matter so much more.
The wise heads are talking twaddle, as a simple experiment proves: accost the first person you see today who looks moderately solvent, and ask them to lend you 50 quid till Thursday. The money, since they appear to possess an elegant sufficiency of the stuff, shouldn’t be a problem.
But there will be problems, intractable ones. You’d have more luck finding someone in the street willing to donate you a kidney than lend you ‘half a ton’. And if anybody does say yes, run: you’ve been sized up by a payday shark who will arrange the loan at 4,500 per cent and come calling for ten grand or your kneecaps at the end of the month.
Even the ultra-rich can never feel relaxed about money. In fact, as How To Be A Billionaire (Channel 4) revealed, they are obsessed with spending it in ways that emphasise its importance. Money matters, and therefore vast sums must matter vastly.
Indian multi-billionaire Naveen Jain, for instance, rises at 4.30am every day to tackle his emails. His money is so important, it won’t even let him sleep. Jain is investing his fortune in a space programme that will establish a commercial route to the moon within ten years.
This venture, he believes, will make him trillions of dollars. Jain didn’t spell out why a moon link would be so lucrative, but he did own a large collection of space rocks, so perhaps he plans to start quarrying.
He did have a pre-packaged answer to the title question: if you want to make a billion, solve a $10 billion problem and take a ten per cent fee. But the documentary wasn’t really interested in analysing the mechanics of making a mint — it just enjoyed looking at these people and relishing how odd they were.
Jain worked hard at appearing humble and sane, but in unguarded moments he looked like a Bond villain planning his latest nuclear arsenal inside a volcano.
When he explained how his financial muscle made him an unstoppable force on the meteorite market, a manic giggle was gurgling in the back of his throat.
At least he enjoyed his cash. Russian media mogul Dmitry Itskov looked utterly miserable. He spent his life traipsing from one anonymous hotel room to the next, with no friends, no family, and only an illusion of electronic immortality to keep him company.
Dmitry was spending his billions on brain transplant research, with the goal of ‘uploading his consciousness’. He didn’t seem to be getting much for his money — shoddy robotic heads, bad video graphics and flakey hangers-on who didn’t sound very convincing when they told him: ‘I don’t think you’re crazy, I think you’ve got a vision.’
Russians are meant to be depressive, of course, but Dmitry was working too hard at it.
As he checked into another low-budget hotel, you couldn’t help feeling he’d have been happier as a travelling shoe salesman — at least he’d have sensible targets to meet.
He should check into the L’Ambiance hotel in Bodrum, Turkey: it might cure him of his fondness for cheap accommodation. Joe Crowley of Holiday Hit Squad (BBC One) paid a visit, and found a resort that could make a Russian gulag look inviting.
The pool was so polluted that you couldn’t see the bottom. Puddles of vomit were encrusted on the patio. Open sewers ran under rusting manhole covers.
And the kitchen was worse. Every hygiene crime you’ve ever pictured in your worst nightmare of a foreign holiday was committed here — leftovers reheated day after day, vats of food lying open on shelves, unsealed tins growing mould in the cupboard. When the brochure said meals were all-inclusive, it didn’t say that what they included was every bacteria known to science.
Holiday Hit Squad is overlong, an hour of flaccid griping that ought, at most, to be 30 minutes of pungent consumer journalism.
But at least it showed us why Naveen Jain is right to head for the moon. Anywhere’s better than Bodrum.
The wise heads are talking twaddle, as a simple experiment proves: accost the first person you see today who looks moderately solvent, and ask them to lend you 50 quid till Thursday. The money, since they appear to possess an elegant sufficiency of the stuff, shouldn’t be a problem.
But there will be problems, intractable ones. You’d have more luck finding someone in the street willing to donate you a kidney than lend you ‘half a ton’. And if anybody does say yes, run: you’ve been sized up by a payday shark who will arrange the loan at 4,500 per cent and come calling for ten grand or your kneecaps at the end of the month.
If I was a rich man: How to Be A Billionaire's Naveen Jain, the Indian entrepreneur
Even the ultra-rich can never feel relaxed about money. In fact, as How To Be A Billionaire (Channel 4) revealed, they are obsessed with spending it in ways that emphasise its importance. Money matters, and therefore vast sums must matter vastly.
Indian multi-billionaire Naveen Jain, for instance, rises at 4.30am every day to tackle his emails. His money is so important, it won’t even let him sleep. Jain is investing his fortune in a space programme that will establish a commercial route to the moon within ten years.
This venture, he believes, will make him trillions of dollars. Jain didn’t spell out why a moon link would be so lucrative, but he did own a large collection of space rocks, so perhaps he plans to start quarrying.
He did have a pre-packaged answer to the title question: if you want to make a billion, solve a $10 billion problem and take a ten per cent fee. But the documentary wasn’t really interested in analysing the mechanics of making a mint — it just enjoyed looking at these people and relishing how odd they were.
Jain worked hard at appearing humble and sane, but in unguarded moments he looked like a Bond villain planning his latest nuclear arsenal inside a volcano.
QUALITY TIME OF THE WEEK
Graham Linehan opened his new sitcom Meet The Walshes (BBC2) with a truly funny moment. As twenty-something Ciara was trying to enjoy a candlelit soak, her mother was banging on the door: ‘What do you want the light off for when you’re in the bath? You’ll drown!’
At least he enjoyed his cash. Russian media mogul Dmitry Itskov looked utterly miserable. He spent his life traipsing from one anonymous hotel room to the next, with no friends, no family, and only an illusion of electronic immortality to keep him company.
Dmitry was spending his billions on brain transplant research, with the goal of ‘uploading his consciousness’. He didn’t seem to be getting much for his money — shoddy robotic heads, bad video graphics and flakey hangers-on who didn’t sound very convincing when they told him: ‘I don’t think you’re crazy, I think you’ve got a vision.’
Russians are meant to be depressive, of course, but Dmitry was working too hard at it.
As he checked into another low-budget hotel, you couldn’t help feeling he’d have been happier as a travelling shoe salesman — at least he’d have sensible targets to meet.
Holiday Hit Squad with Joe Crowley, Angela Rippon and Helen Skelton
He should check into the L’Ambiance hotel in Bodrum, Turkey: it might cure him of his fondness for cheap accommodation. Joe Crowley of Holiday Hit Squad (BBC One) paid a visit, and found a resort that could make a Russian gulag look inviting.
The pool was so polluted that you couldn’t see the bottom. Puddles of vomit were encrusted on the patio. Open sewers ran under rusting manhole covers.
And the kitchen was worse. Every hygiene crime you’ve ever pictured in your worst nightmare of a foreign holiday was committed here — leftovers reheated day after day, vats of food lying open on shelves, unsealed tins growing mould in the cupboard. When the brochure said meals were all-inclusive, it didn’t say that what they included was every bacteria known to science.
Holiday Hit Squad is overlong, an hour of flaccid griping that ought, at most, to be 30 minutes of pungent consumer journalism.
But at least it showed us why Naveen Jain is right to head for the moon. Anywhere’s better than Bodrum.
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