Sometimes I commission something from a professional, and when it comes time to discuss the price, they say, lowering their voices a little, almost blushing, "I just don't like to talk about money." I've heard this several times, especially in the artistic or cultural sphere. And it surprises me. Because they say it as if talking about money were in bad taste. As if we were betraying some invisible code of dignity or professional purity.
Some even add that they should have someone take care of these things for them. That what they love is creating, writing, composing, performing, painting. And that the financial aspect is uncomfortable for them. I understand that feeling, but I think it's a profound misunderstanding. As if asking for money for the work one does automatically makes one less idealistic, less committed, less human.
Maybe it has something to do with my training as an economist. I don't just talk about money: I write about money almost every day! I've gotten used to it. But I still think this refusal to put a price on what one does is a misguided regret. A kind of inherited guilt, as if asking for compensation for our efforts were a sign of greed or supporting a materialistic and unethical world.
To anyone who feels this way, I have an idea: don't talk about money. Talk about value. Because work has value. Talent has value. Ideas have value. Creation, time, skill, experience—all of these have value. And money is just the instrument we use to recognize and transfer that value.
In the economy, money is defined by two essential functions: a medium of exchange and a store of value. Money is like a battery with energy inside. And inside that battery is personal energy. The energy of your effort. The value of your knowledge. The value of what you know how to do. Every time you get paid for your work, you're not cashing in bills; you're receiving batteries charged with everything you're worth as a professional.
So, no, we shouldn't be ashamed. Talking about money isn't talking about greed. It's talking about recognition. It's making the invisible visible: the entire process, the dedication, the learning, the hours that go into each service we provide.
What we should teach is not to be silent when talking about money, but to speak about it. To argue it. To defend it naturally. To put a price on value without fear, without guilt, without excuses. Because there's nothing to be ashamed of in the fact that our work has value. On the contrary. And if we speak naturally about the value we contribute, we also learn to occupy the place we truly deserve.
