In every civilisation, gods have been imagined with imperfections. They were powerful yet fallible, capable of anger, jealousy, error, and repentance. These flaws never reduced their divinity; instead, they made gods more human, more understandable. Yet in today’s world, a strange reversal has taken place. God may be questioned, criticised, or even rejected—but money is rarely doubted. It stands beyond fault, beyond scrutiny, clothed in a false aura of moral perfection. In the modern social order, money has achieved what no god ever did: unquestioned authority.
Money itself is lifeless, a mere tool. Yet society treats it as though it carries virtue within it. The one who possesses money is instantly elevated. People bow before wealth, often without asking how it was acquired. A rich person’s words are considered wisdom, their decisions labelled visionary, and their lifestyle admired as a symbol of success. Behaviour, honesty, and character fade into the background. Wealth becomes the ultimate certificate of credibility.
This worship of money is visible in everyday life. Consider how society reacts to a wealthy businessman accused of fraud. The first instinct is disbelief, followed by justification: “He is too successful to do something wrong,” or “This is how business works.” Even if wrongdoing is proven, the condemnation is often soft, temporary, and forgettable. The wealth remains, and with it, respect. Money acts like holy water, washing away ethical stains.
On the other hand, look at the honest individual who struggles financially. A hardworking teacher, a sincere farmer, or a principled clerk may live with dignity, yet society rarely celebrates them. Their honesty is taken for granted, their integrity unnoticed. If they fail financially, they are judged harshly. Their poverty is seen not as a systemic issue or a consequence of fairness, but as personal incompetence. In the cruel logic of wealth-worship, honesty without money is a weakness, not a virtue.
This contradiction reveals a deep moral distortion. When gods made mistakes, they were punished, questioned, or forced to atone. But when money is involved, mistakes turn into “business decisions” and crimes into “calculated risks.” Money, unlike god, is never blamed. The fault is always redirected—towards the system, the market, or circumstances. Wealth remains untouched, sacred, and blameless.
Popular culture reinforces this illusion. Films glorify the rich anti-hero, media headlines celebrate billionaires as icons, and success stories rarely discuss ethical compromise. Children grow up learning that being rich matters more than being right. The message is subtle but powerful: morality is optional, wealth is essential. In such a world, money becomes the measure of truth, not truth the measure of money.
The irony is that money has no conscience. It does not care whether it builds schools or destroys forests, whether it feeds the hungry or fuels exploitation. Yet society treats it as morally superior to the human being who earns it honestly but modestly. This is like worshipping the sword while forgetting the hand that holds it. Money is merely a medium, but we have turned it into a judge.
History offers countless examples of this blindness. Empires built on wealth collapsed despite their riches. Individuals celebrated in their time for power and money are later remembered for their cruelty and corruption. Yet each generation repeats the same mistake, mistaking wealth for worth. We forget that money cannot feel shame, cannot show compassion, and cannot take responsibility.
Perhaps the most tragic consequence of this belief is its impact on human relationships. Respect becomes transactional. People are valued not for who they are, but for what they own. Friendships, marriages, and social bonds are influenced by financial status. The human being disappears behind the balance sheet.
To say that money has no faults is not to praise it—it is to expose society’s failure. Money is neither good nor bad, but our blind reverence makes it appear flawless. When even god is allowed imperfection but money is not, we have misplaced our sense of judgment.
True civilisation will begin the day we reverse this illusion—when wealth is questioned, honesty is rewarded, and character is restored to its rightful place. Until then, money will remain the only god without faults, and humanity will continue to pay the price for worshipping it.
