The Three Kinds of Money
There's a certain form of money you can't spend on yourself.
I call it Alfa money — the kind that moves toward something bigger than the person who earns it. Not the money that pads your comforts or swells your accounts. Not the money that upgrades your lifestyle or feeds the ego's itch for more. This is money that funds repair and change. Money that feeds the roots, not the branches. The kind that helps mend the tear between people, place, and possibility.
But before we get to Alfa money, we need to understand its siblings: Beta and Gamma. Because most of us are confused about which game we're playing with our resources, and that confusion is making us miserable.
Beta Money: The Base
Beta money is survival money. Rent, groceries, healthcare, safety. It's the currency of "enough to be okay" — not thriving, not performing, just fundamentally secure. For some, this means $40k a year. For others, depending on location and circumstances, it might be $80k or $120k. The number isn't the point; the function is.
Beta money answers the question: "What do I need to sleep well at night?" Not in luxury sheets, but without the cortisol spike of wondering how I'll make rent. It's the baseline of dignity — being able to eat well, live somewhere that feels like home, and not have to think about money every time you need something basic.
The strange thing about Beta money is how invisible it becomes once you have it. People who've never worried about rent forget that housing security exists. People who've always had healthcare forget what it feels like to avoid the doctor because of cost. Beta money is the privilege of not thinking about money for life's essentials.
Gamma Money: The Trap
Gamma money is status money. It's the pursuit of wealth for ego, image, and the endless game of more. Gamma money whispers that you need the nicer car, the bigger house, the more expensive version of everything. It's radioactive in the sense that it tends to poison whatever it touches — relationships, values, peace of mind.
The research on this is stark: just priming people with images of money makes them less empathetic, less cooperative, more isolated. Gamma money doesn't just change what you buy; it changes who you become. It's the kind of wealth that makes you calculate human interactions like transactions, that makes you measure your worth against others' net worth.
But here's the insidious part — Gamma money often disguises itself as Beta money. "I need this bigger house for my family's security". "I need this luxury car for my professional image". "I need this investment account for my future". The need becomes real in the telling, even when it isn't.
I've watched people take their first $100k above true Beta needs and immediately convert it into Gamma spending. The money that could have been freedom becomes a new kind of prison. Now they need to maintain the lifestyle that money bought. Now they're working not for security but for the appearance of success.
The Gamma trap is thinking that more money will solve the problems that having money created in the first place.
Alfa Money: The Gift
Alfa money is purpose and principles money. It's the kind of resource that moves toward something larger than your immediate needs or wants. It funds repair, meaning, connection, and possibility. Alfa money doesn't ask "What can this buy me?" It asks "What can this change?"
In the economy of meaning, Alfa money is the only currency that matters. It's money spent on education that changes lives, art that shifts perspective, causes that address real problems, relationships that create trust between strangers. It's the money that builds things worth building and feeds what's worth feeding.
But Alfa money isn't about donation or charity. It's about recognizing that resources are meant to flow, not accumulate. It's about understanding that real wealth isn't what you can hoard but what you can catalyze.
The historical examples are everywhere. The Pacific Northwest potlatch ceremonies, where chiefs gained prestige by giving away wealth, not accumulating it. The Kula ring exchanges in Melanesia, where valuable shells circulated to build networks of trust that lasted generations. The Buddhist concept of merit — a spiritual currency earned through generosity that was considered more valuable than gold because, unlike money, it could be carried into the next life.
Even our modern disasters reveal this: when hurricanes hit or earthquakes strike, people spontaneously organize mutual aid networks. The profit motive disappears and something older emerges — the recognition that our real security comes from taking care of each other, not from what we've managed to accumulate for ourselves.
The Practice of Distinction
The problem isn't having money. The problem is not knowing which kind of money you're dealing with at any given moment.
Beta money requires clear boundaries. Know your number — the actual amount you need for genuine security and well-being — and protect it fiercely. Don't let Gamma creep turn your Beta foundation into a status project. Don't let lifestyle inflation convince you that luxury is necessity.
Gamma money requires conscious resistance. The culture will try to convert every dollar above your Beta needs into Gamma spending. It will convince you that you deserve the upgrade, that you've earned the indulgence, that more comfort equals more happiness. This is almost always a lie.
Alfa money requires faith in the invisible threads between us. It asks you to believe that what goes around comes around, not in some karmic accounting but in the simple recognition that we're all connected. When you fund something meaningful, you strengthen the web of relationships and possibilities that ultimately supports everyone, including you.
The most successful people I know have learned to keep these currencies separate. They have their Beta needs covered without drama. They resist most Gamma temptations without feeling deprived. And they find ways to channel resources toward Alfa purposes that align with their principles.
This isn't about being anti-money or anti-success. It's about being conscious of what money is for and what it does to us when we're not paying attention.
The Question That Changes Everything
Here's the question that's been shifting my relationship to resources: What kind of money am I holding right now?
Is this Beta money — resources I need for genuine security and well-being? Then I protect it, invest it wisely, and sleep well knowing my foundation is solid.
Is this Gamma money — resources I'm spending to feel important, look successful, or feed my ego? Then I pause and ask whether this purchase is making me more myself or less myself. Usually the answer is clear.
Is this Alfa money — resources I could direct toward something larger than myself? Then I ask what wants to be funded, what needs to be fixed, what meaning is created or waiting for support.
The distinction isn't academic. It's practical — taking the resources that flow through your life and using them consciously, with intention, in service of something worth serving.
Because here's what I've learned: there really is a certain form of money you can't spend on yourself. And when you start recognizing it, when you start treating it as the gift it is, you stop serving money, and start letting it serve something real. Not in your bank account, but in your relationship to what wealth actually means.
Money, it turns out, is like water. When it flows, it nourishes life. When it stagnates, it starts to toxify. The question isn't how much you have — it's whether your money is building trust, meaning, and repair, or just circling the drain of comfort and clutter.