The Biltmore Effect

Biltmore is splendid. Nonetheless, the largest private residence in the United States, it is, unfortunately, no longer a home. Too expensive to maintain as a family dwelling, it has devolved into a tourist attraction.

Constructed by George Washington Vanderbilt, it is a monument to his ego and a warning of what happens when wealth goes to a person’s head. The grandson of Cornelius Vanderbilt (the architect of his family’s fortune), George was a man of leisure and limited vision.

Sadly, we Americans may need to learn a lesson from his spendthrift ways. No doubt George believed that his inherited wealth would remain intact for the indefinite future. Yet even though his grandfather had amassed more riches than any of his contemporaries, these were insufficient to sustain a determined effort to live in utmost luxury.

We too, as a people, seem hidebound to squander our patrimony. Having been born into the richest large nation in world history, we too seem to believe that we can afford whatever we desire. For many of us, our inherited advantages are treated as a God-given birthright.

Consider the deficit crisis. The numbers don’t add up, but for millions of on-lookers there is no impending emergency. They seem to assume we can keep borrowing ad infinitum. The young, in particular, often regard the wealth their predecessors created as theirs to do with, as they will.

For the radical young—you know the ones who spark street riots—work is something other people do. Their job, because they are better and brighter than the rest of us, is to instruct their elders on the evils of capitalism so it can be dismantled.

Meanwhile, their parents and student loans support the protestors. That these funds had to come from somewhere does not intrude into their reveries of a perfect society. Fancying themselves as intellectuals, they cannot imagine dirtying their hands in the grubby details of earning a living.

Recently some of these rabble-rousers have been demanding not only free student loans, but free housing, food, and clothing. Naturally, they are not looking for modest accommodations. To the contrary, they expect handouts commensurate with what many received when they were children.

Still, the Biltmore Effect appears also to corrupted many of those who should know better. Too many full adults—people who are actually engaged in earning a living—are prepared to take seriously the blandishments of demagogic politicians, such as Barack Obama.

Too many potential voters appear not to have projected ahead the consequences of unrestrained spending policies. Somehow the money available to the federal government is deemed unlimited. Much like the scions of wealthy families, they cannot conceive of the faucet running dry.

It would be well, however, for us to remember that Britain, Spain, and France are no longer the superpowers they once were. Having grown complacent after years of dominance, they too squandered a glorious patrimony.

We are no different. Our self-satisfaction can be as damaging as was theirs. When Obama accuses Paul Ryan of proposing draconian spending cuts because Ryan is not increasing the budget as quickly as the Democrats desire, on-lookers had best get out their calculators.

Those who imagine that there is always enough cash to append just one more room to the house will eventually find they can no longer afford to live in it. No one’s pocketbook is bottomless. Not even the beneficiaries of an incredibly wealthy, and generous, federal uncle.

Political consultants tell the candidates they must lie to the American people. They say that even though voters claim to want a balanced budget, they are not prepared to endure genuine limitations in expenditures. Like George Washington Vanderbilt, they want what they want when they want it.

Too bad! If we too cannot deal with fiscal realities, then one day we too may need a new place to call home.

Melvyn L, Fein

Professor of Sociology

Kennesaw State University