Magical Thinking #1: The Wealth Proximity Effect  

(or, The Idiot’s Guide to Getting Rich by Osmosis)  

The Delusions That Keep Us Broke: A Field Guide to Magical Thinking  

Magical thinking is humanity’s favorite self-inflicted mind trick. We all do it. Why? Because it gives us the illusion of progress without requiring any real effort. It lets us believe we are inching closer to our dreams when, in reality, we are standing still, luxuriating in fantasy while time slithers past.  

At its core, magical thinking is the belief that wanting something badly enough makes it true. Another term for this is wishcasting—a term as ridiculous as the behavior it describes. And wishcasting comes in many flavors, but let’s start with a classic:  

Magical Thinking #1: The Wealth Proximity Effect  

(or, The Idiot’s Guide to Getting Rich by Osmosis)  

There exists a particularly intoxicating delusion that simply hanging out with rich people will, by some mysterious process, turn you into one of them. Like a low-budget fairytale, this belief holds that being in the presence of wealth allows its golden aura to absorb into your pores, triggering a financial metamorphosis.  

According to this theory, the very air surrounding the wealthy is infused with prosperity particles. One need only breathe deeply in their presence, and voilà—greatness is imminent. Just be patient. Success is coming. Any day now.  

This explains why some people strategically position themselves near wealth, convinced that proximity equals inevitability. They take jobs in luxury-adjacent fields—selling overpriced real estate, running high-end boutiques, caddying at exclusive golf courses—believing that if they orbit enough millionaires, one of them will eventually fling a golden opportunity their way.  

It rarely happens.  

Instead, they spend years rubbing elbows with the elite, never quite realizing they are the hired help in someone else’s fantasy. They stand in expensive rooms, shake hands with power brokers, sip cocktails at galas—and still leave every night in the same used Honda, wondering when their “big break” is coming. Spoiler alert: it’s not.  

And then there are the hangers-on, the social parasites who aren’t rich, but know people who are, and assume this entitles them to special treatment. Ask any service worker who their most obnoxious customers are, and they won’t tell you actual celebrities. No, the worst offenders are friends of celebrities’ relatives, those barely-adjacent nobodies who wield their flimsy connection to fame like a scepter. They are not rich, nor famous—but, God help you, they believe they should be treated as if they were.  

I know real estate agents and mortgage lenders who are constantly broke, yet radiate the delusional confidence of future billionaires simply because they play golf with rich people. They engage in high-energy wealth cosplay, convinced that their friendships with actual millionaires mean they are so close to striking it big.  

They never do.  

But that’s the power of magical thinking—it keeps them perpetually convinced that success is just around the corner, even as they sink deeper into the quicksand of reality.