The Surprising Power of Wanting Less

What if the most important financial question isn't, "Can I afford this?" But "Can I afford to want this?"

It’s a strange question. But the wisest people throughout history—philosophers, artists, and saints—all seemed to understand that the less you need, the freer you become. And freedom might be the most valuable thing money can buy, or, more accurately, the most valuable thing not needing money can buy. As Ryan Holiday writes in Discipline is Destiny, “When we desire more than we need, we make ourselves vulnerable.” The question is: vulnerable to what?

THE UNBRIBABLE MAN Around 290 BC, Rome’s greatest general was Manius Curius. He’d been elected consul three times. He’d defeated the Samnites. He’d driven King Pyrrhus out of Italy. By any measure, he was one of the most powerful men in the ancient world.

So when the Samnites wanted to sway him to their side, they sent ambassadors with expensive gifts, and gold and silver. The kind of gifts that turned most men’s heads. But they found him in his farmhouse kitchen, roasting turnips over the fire.

Curius barely looked up as they walked in. He refused their gifts and told them something they never forgot: “A man who can be satisfied with this kind of meal has no need for gold. I’d rather rule over those who possess gold than possess it myself.”

The bribers left empty-handed, not because Curius was too virtuous to be tempted, but because he’d already built a life where their offer held no power. He had what he needed. Their gold was useless against a man who genuinely didn’t want it.

A generation later, the Roman statesman Cato studied Curius obsessively. He’d often visit Curius’s old farmhouse and walk the modest property, marveling that a man of such accomplishment had lived so simply. Cato understood what Curius had discovered: every want is a potential chain. And the fewer chains you wear, the freer you are.

Every want is a potential chain. And the fewer chains you wear, the freer you are. THE UNTOUCHABLE PRISONER It can be easy to dismiss this as ancient Stoic philosophy, but in the twentieth century, a boxer named Rubin “Hurricane” Carter proved the same principle in one of the most powerless situations imaginable: a prison cell.

In 1966, at the height of his boxing career, Carter was wrongfully convicted of a triple murder he didn’t commit. He was sentenced to three life terms in a New Jersey prison.

For 19 years, he maintained his innocence. And for each of those long 19 years, he looked for any way to preserve his dignity and autonomy within those walls.

His strategy was to strip himself of every comfort the prison offered. No pillows. No radio. No TV. No recreational privileges. Nothing extra.

Why give up the few comforts available to him? Because he knew each one was a handle. If he enjoyed the radio, guards could take it away. If he valued TV time, they had leverage over him. If he needed anything the prison system provided, they could use it to control him.

But by voluntarily surrendering those comforts first, Carter removed every point of leverage. There was nothing left to threaten, nothing left to take. In one of the most controlled environments on earth, he found a strange kind of freedom.

“They can incarcerate my body,” he told The New York Times, “but never my mind.”

HOW WANTS BECOME CHAINS Here's the key that most of us miss: Every want is a potential handle.

The more you need, the more leverage others have over you. Employers know you can’t quit if your lifestyle requires your salary. Lenders know you’ll comply to protect your credit. Advertisers know exactly which fears and desires make you click “buy now.”

Your own anxiety uses your wants against you, whispering that you can’t take that risk, can’t make that change, can’t follow that calling, because you need what you have.

But when you genuinely need less, those handles disappear.

Just to be clear, this doesn’t necessarily mean living in poverty. Michelangelo was certainly not austere; he died one of the wealthiest artists in history. But he carefully avoided the lavish gifts his wealthy patrons dangled in front of him. He didn’t want to owe anyone. He even refused to accept a salary for designing the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica. For Michelangelo, real wealth wasn’t the money in his accounts. It was the freedom to create without strings attached.

You can have much and still be free as long as what you have doesn’t have you.

THE TREADMILL WE BUILD FOR OURSELVES But here's the uncomfortable flip side. Ryan Holiday puts it bluntly:

“No one is having less fun than an overextended, overcommitted person with debtors at their door or a high-paying job they can’t afford to lose. No one is less free than the person trapped on the treadmill, moving faster and faster but going nowhere.”

That treadmill might appear successful from the outside. But if you can’t step off, is it really freedom?

This is where the spiritual stakes become unavoidable.

WHEN GOD CALLS, AND YOU CAN’T ANSWER A pastor friend of mine once tried to hire someone for ministry. The candidate knew that God had called him to the position. It wasn’t a question of gifting or desire. God had made it clear.

But he couldn’t take the job.

His debt payments required a salary the church simply couldn’t match. Between car payments, student loans, half a dozen credit cards, and a mortgage stretched to the limit, there was no margin left. Even though he felt called, he wasn’t free to answer the call. He had already obligated himself to other masters.

As we all know, Jesus said you cannot serve two masters. And we usually think of this in terms of loving God versus loving money. But I believe there’s a brutally practical dimension too: every financial obligation is a master demanding our service. And if we’re fully obligated elsewhere, we may not be free to say yes when God calls.

THE PRESCRIPTION JESUS GAVE This is why Jesus prescribed “letting go” to two wealthy men in the Gospels, and why their different responses led to such different outcomes.

The Rich Young Ruler came to Jesus and asked what he needed to do to inherit eternal life. Jesus told him to sell his possessions and give to the poor.

Then this wealthy man walked away sad. He had great wealth, but that great wealth had him.

Then there’s Zacchaeus. After encountering Jesus, he voluntarily declared that he would give half his possessions to the poor and repay anyone he had cheated fourfold.

And Jesus’ response was, “Today salvation has come to this house.”

THE QUESTION ISN’T, “DO YOU HAVE TOO MUCH?” THE QUESTION IS “ARE YOU FREE?”

The difference wasn’t the amount. It was the grip.

The Rich Young Ruler couldn’t release his hold, and he remained enslaved. Meanwhile, Zacchaeus opened his hands, and he found freedom.

Personally, in this instance, I believe Jesus wasn’t primarily trying to help the poor, though that mattered too. But He was seeking to free these men from the chains that kept them from following Him fully.

The Apostle Paul understood this freedom when he wrote, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances... whether living in plenty or in want” (Philippians 4:11-12).

This wasn’t passive resignation. I see this as Paul’s superpower. Because when you can be content with little, you become free from both the seduction of more and the fear of less.

THE INVITATION

So what does this mean for you and me today?

This isn’t an invitation to guilt. It’s an invitation to freedom. The question isn’t, “Do you have too much?” The question is “Are you free?”

Free to give generously when prompted. Free to take a risk when called. Free to walk away from Pharaoh’s gold if God is leading you to the wilderness. Free to answer when God calls, even if the salary is smaller.

I love how Vernon Howard put it, “Our freedom can be measured by the number of things we can walk away from.”

Every want you eliminate is a chain you break. Every need you release is a handle you remove. The less you desire, the richer you are. The freer you are. The more available you become to the only Master worth serving.

So before you upgrade your lifestyle, stretch into that bigger mortgage, or say yes to the obligation that will require the salary you can’t walk away from, it might be worth asking: What will this cost me in freedom?

This article was published in our Faithful Steward magazine, a quarterly publication filled with encouraging stories, biblical teaching, and practical tools to help you grow as a wise and joyful giver. If you'd like to begin receiving Faithful Steward, consider becoming a FaithFi partner.