I had two fathers, a rich one and a poor one. One was highly

educated and intelligent. He had a Ph.D. and completed four years

of undergraduate work in less than two years. He then went on to

Stanford University, the University of Chicago, and Northwestern

University to do his advanced studies, all on full financial scholarships.

The other father never finished the eighth grade.

Both men were successful in their careers, working hard all their

lives. Both earned substantial incomes. Yet one always struggled

financially. The other would become one of the richest men in

Hawaii. One died leaving tens of millions of dollars to his family,

charities, and his church. The other left bills to be paid.

Both men were strong, charismatic, and influential. Both men

offered me advice, but they did not advise the same things. Both men

believed strongly in education but did not recommend the same course

of study.

If I had had only one dad, I would have had to accept or reject his

advice. Having two dads offered me the choice of contrasting points

of view: one of a rich man and one of a poor man.

Instead of simply accepting or rejecting one or the other, I found

myself thinking more, comparing, and then choosing for myself. The

problem was that the rich man was not rich yet, and the poor manwas not yet poor. Both were just starting out on their careers, and

both were struggling with money and families. But they had very

different points of view about money.

For example, one dad would say, “The love of money is the root

of all evil.” The other said, “The lack of money is the root of all evil.”

As a young boy, having two strong fathers both influencing me

was difficult. I wanted to be a good son and listen, but the two fathers

did not say the same things. The contrast in their points of view,

particularly about money, was so extreme that I grew curious and

intrigued. I began to start thinking for long periods of time about

what each was saying.

Much of my private time was spent reflecting, asking myself

questions such as, “Why does he say that?” and then asking the same

question of the other dad’s statement. It would have been much

easier to simply say, “Yeah, he’s right. I agree with that.” Or to simply

reject the point of view by saying, “The old man doesn’t know what

he’s talking about.” Instead, having two dads whom I loved forced

me to think and ultimately choose a way of thinking for myself. As a

process, choosing for myself turned out to be much more valuable in

the long run than simply accepting or rejecting a single point of view.

One of the reasons the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, and

the middle class struggles in debt is that the subject of money is

taught at home, not in school. Most of us learn about money from

our parents. So what can poor parents tell their child about money?

They simply say, “Stay in school and study hard.” The child may

graduate with excellent grades, but with a poor person’s financial

programming and mindset.

Sadly, money is not taught in schools. Schools focus on scholastic

and professional skills, but not on financial skills. This explains how

smart bankers, doctors, and accountants who earned excellent grades

may struggle financially all of their lives. Our staggering national debt

is due in large part to highly educated politicians and government

officials making financial decisions with little or no training in the

subject of money.

Today I often wonder what will soon happen when we have

millions of people who need financial and medical assistance. They

will be dependent upon their families or the government for financial

support. What will happen when Medicare and Social Security run

out of money? How will a nation survive if teaching children about

money continues to be left to parents—most of whom will be, or

already are, poor?

Because I had two influential fathers, I learned from both of

them. I had to think about each dad’s advice, and in doing so, I

gained valuable insight into the power and effect of one’s thoughts on

one’s life. For example, one dad had a habit of saying, “I can’t afford

it.” The other dad forbade those words to be used. He insisted I ask,

“How can I afford it?” One is a statement, and the other is a question.

One lets you off the hook, and the other forces you to think. My

soon-to-be-rich dad would explain that by automatically saying the

words “I can’t afford it,” your brain stops working. By asking the

question “How can I afford it?” your brain is put to work. He did

not mean that you should buy everything you want. He was fanatical

about exercising your mind, the most powerful computer in the

world. He’d say, “My brain gets stronger every day because I exercise

it. The stronger it gets, the more money I can make.” He believed that

automatically saying “I can’t afford it” was a sign of mental laziness.

Although both dads worked hard, I noticed that one dad had a

habit of putting his brain to sleep when it came to finances, and the

other had a habit of exercising his brain. The long-term result was

that one dad grew stronger financially, and the other grew weaker. It

is not much different from a person who goes to the gym to exercise

on a regular basis versus someone who sits on the couch watching

television. Proper physical exercise increases your chances for health,

and proper mental exercise increases your chances for wealth.

My two dads had opposing attitudes and that affected the way

they thought. One dad thought that the rich should pay more in

taxes to take care of those less fortunate. The other said, “Taxes

punish those who produce and reward those who don’t produce.”One dad recommended, “Study hard so you can find a good

company to work for.” The other recommended, “Study hard so you

can find a good company to buy.”

One dad said, “The reason I’m not rich is because I have you

kids.” The other said, “The reason I must be rich is because I have

you kids.”

One encouraged talking about money and business at the dinner

table, while the other forbade the subject of money to be discussed

over a meal.

One said, “When it comes to money, play it safe. Don’t take

risks.” The other said, “Learn to manage risk.”

One believed, “Our home is our largest investment and our

greatest asset.” The other believed, “My house is a liability, and if your

house is your largest investment, you’re in trouble.”

Both dads paid their bills on time, yet one paid his bills first while

the other paid his bills last.

One dad believed in a company or the government taking care

of you and your needs. He was always concerned about pay raises,

retirement plans, medical benefits, sick leave, vacation days, and

other perks. He was impressed with two of his uncles who joined the

military and earned a retirement-and-entitlement package for life

after twenty years of active service. He loved the idea of medical

benefits and PX privileges the military provided its retirees. He also

loved the tenure system available through the university. The idea

of job protection for life and job benefits seemed more important,

at times, than the job. He would often say, “I’ve worked hard for the

government, and I’m entitled to these benefits.”

The other believed in total financial self-reliance.

He spoke out against the entitlement mentality and how it created weak and financially needy people. He was emphatic about being financially competent. One dad struggled to save a few dollars. The other created investments. One dad taught me how to write an impressive resumé so I could find a good job.

The other taught me how to write strong business and financial plans so I could create jobs.

Being a product of two strong dads allowed me the luxury of

observing the effects different thoughts have on one’s life. I noticed

that people really do shape their lives through their thoughts.

For example, my poor dad always said, “I’ll never be rich.” And

that prophecy became reality. My rich dad, on the other hand, always

referred to himself as rich. He would say things like, “I’m a rich man,

and rich people don’t do this.” Even when he was flat broke after a

major financial setback, he continued to refer to himself as a rich man.

He would cover himself by saying, “There is a difference between

being poor and being broke. Broke is temporary. Poor is eternal.”

My poor dad would say, “I’m not interested in money,” or

“Money doesn’t matter.” My rich dad always said, “Money is power.”