Lately, I’ve been reflecting on my relationship with the intangible aspects of life; material, relationships, resources, and especially money. This reflection isn’t new, but recent conversations have clarified my thoughts. It seems like, in the world we have built, money is the dominant factor in determining success (even though it shouldn’t be).

During a recent interview regarding social entrepreneurs and their journey of acquiring funds/loans, someone remarked something along these lines: There’s a reason why certain information remains inaccessible. If the tricks of the trade were made accessible, the aura of exclusivity around those who hold power and money would vanish.

This thought resonates across contexts, whether it’s about knowledge, resources, or capital/finances I have come to recognize that power thrives on dependency and inaccessibility ensures a hierarchy where few control the many.

I was raised with the privilege of understanding money through stability. We always had a steady flow of resources, which made saving a habit rather than a choice. Saving, in turn, allowed me to project my future months ahead, even years. When I graduated and started earning, I learned the importance of filing taxes. This grounding in financial planning gave me a preconceived notion that strategic foresight, especially with numbers, is the foundation of success. But is it?

Another powerful insight during the interview that stood out was that numbered projections are tangible, so they’re easy to measure. But what about the intangible elements of life and business, the very essence of humanity like love, community, or affirmation? Numbers fail to quantify their worth.

This is the crux of the dissonance between financial modeling and capitalist frameworks. The focus on measurable metrics often marginalizes the immeasurable aspects of life; the ones that truly matter. Financial modeling, though useful, can become a tool of reductionism, valuing only what can be quantified and disregarding the qualitative, soulful, and human.

Yet, here we are, using these models to predict the future, make decisions, and define success. While they provide clarity, they also perpetuate a world where the intangible; connection, trust, and love, takes a backseat to what fits into a spreadsheet.

I have been exploring theories like Doughnut Economics, which critiques our current financial model for its over-reliance on factors like profit maximization. This model drives many systemic inequalities and environmental challenges faced today because it fails to account for the broader, interconnected systems that sustain life. Doughnut Economics, proposed by Kate Raworth, suggests an alternative: a framework that balances essential human needs with the planet’s ecological limits, aiming for a safe and just space for all.

While lenders and decision-makers measure returns strictly in numbers, who is measuring the return on intangibles like security, safety, and equity? These aspects, though harder to quantify, are critical to a truly sustainable and equitable future. Ignoring them perpetuates a cycle where success is defined narrowly, leaving the most vital human and ecological needs unmet.

I am not against financial planning. It has immense value. But when it becomes the sole arbiter of success, we lose sight of what truly enriches life. Perhaps it’s time to rethink what we measure and how we define success which is not by numbers alone but by the unquantifiable impact we have on each other and the world.