Transcription
There is a version of wealth that doesn't show up on Forbes lists. It doesn't tweet. It doesn't flex on Instagram. It doesn't even have a recognizable name most of the time because it was never built to be recognized. It was built to survive.
Statistically, 70% of wealthy families lose their fortune by the second generation. 90% lose it by the third. That number has held steady for over a century, across continents, across industries. Economists even gave it a nickname, shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations. Rags to riches to rags in 90 years or less.
And yet, a small number of families have broken that curse for four, five, sometimes eight generations. Not by getting lucky with one great investment. Not by avoiding risk altogether. They broke it because of how they managed cash. The boring, unglamorous, deliberately unsexy machinery sitting underneath the mansions and the art collections.
Today, we're opening that machinery up. By the end of this video, you'll understand the actual cash management architecture that old money families use. The structures, the psychology, the rules. And how pieces of it apply whether you have $10,000 or 10 million. Let's get into it.
Quick thing before we dive in. If you're the kind of person who wants to understand how money actually works behind closed doors, not the Instagram version, hit subscribe now. I break down one of these systems every week. And this one is dense, so you'll want to come back to it.
What old money actually means. Before we talk strategy, we need a working definition. Because old money gets thrown around loosely online to describe anyone in a cable-knit sweater standing near a sailboat.
Old money, in the technical sense used by wealth managers and sociologists, refers to families whose wealth predates the current generation by at least two or three generations. And critically, whose wealth has been actively managed as an institution rather than passed down as a lump sum to be individually spent. That second part is the whole ballgame.
New money treats wealth as a personal possession. Old money treats wealth as an entity, something closer to a small sovereign nation than a bank account. It has a constitution, the trust documents. A government, the family office or trustees. Citizens, the family members. A treasury, the investment portfolio. And this is the part most people miss, a deliberate engineered relationship between that treasury and the individual citizen's cash flow. This is the crucial distinction.
A lottery winner has money. A family like the Rockefellers, the DuPonts, the Cargills, or European dynasties like the Rothschilds or the Wallenbergs has a system that produces money indefinitely. And a set of rules governing how much of that production any single person is allowed to touch.
Think about it this way. If you inherit $5 million directly, you have $5 million. If you inherit an interest in a trust that holds $5 million and is designed to exist for 100 years, you have something completely different. You have a claim on a stream, not a stock. And that distinction is the seed of everything we're about to cover.
Old money families don't ask, "How much do we have?" They ask, "How much can this structure safely produce forever without ever touching the core?" That question, sustainable perpetual production without touching the core, is the entire philosophy. Everything else is implementation detail.
The central principle, preservation before growth. If you've spent any time in personal finance content, you've been trained to think about money almost entirely in terms of growth. Compound interest. Index funds. Beat the market. Get rich.
Old money families think about money almost entirely in terms of preservation. Growth is nice. Growth is secondary. The first and unbreakable rule is the corpus does not shrink. Corpus is trust language for the principal, the core body of capital.
In an old money system, the corpus is treated almost religiously. It is not there to be spent. It is not there to fund this generation's lifestyle. It exists to be handed intact or larger to the next generation and the one after that, indefinitely. This produces a completely different set of financial instincts than what most people are taught.
A typical financial advisor might tell you, "Your risk tolerance should decrease as you age because you have less time to recover from a downturn." Old money families apply something similar, but at the institutional level rather than the individual level. Because the entity is meant to live for a hundred plus years, it's overall risk tolerance is calibrated not to any one person's lifespan, but to multi-generational survival. That means heavy diversification, low leverage on core holdings, and a bias toward assets that produce reliable income, even if those assets underperform the S&P 500 in any given decade.
Here's a number that surprises most people. Many old money family offices target an annual portfolio return in the single digits, often just enough to outpace inflation, cover expenses, and grow modestly. That sounds unambitious compared to what you'll hear from finance influencers chasing 20 to 30% annual returns. But the math of preservation isn't optimizing for the best possible decade. It's optimizing for the worst possible decade, and the one after that, and the one after that.
A family chasing 25% annual returns is playing a different game than a family trying to survive six generations. High returns generally require high volatility and concentrated risk. Concentrated risk over a long enough timeline produces a catastrophic year, eventually, and a catastrophic year that hits the corpus is precisely the thing the entire system is built to prevent. So, old money accepts a lower ceiling in exchange for a floor that never breaks.
There's an old saying inside family offices. The first generation builds it. The second generation grows it. The third generation's job is simply not to destroy it. That's not a joke. It is often written in slightly more polite language directly into trust documents as the explicit standard of care trustees are held to.
Here's a question for you. Pause for a second and drop this in the comments. If you had to choose between a strategy that could make you rich in 10 years, but might also wipe you out, versus one that guarantees modest compounding security for 50 years, which would you actually pick? Be honest. I'll read some of these later in the video.
The architecture, trusts, holding companies, and family offices. Let's get concrete. What does this actually look like on paper?
One. The trust. The trust is the foundational legal tool. In its simplest form, a trust is an arrangement where a grantor transfers assets to a trustee, who manages those assets for the benefit of beneficiaries according to a written set of rules.
Old money families use trusts not primarily to avoid taxes, though that's a real function, but to remove the assets from any single person's direct control. This is the mechanism that actually breaks the shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves cycle. If the third generation heir cannot personally access or sell the core assets, they also cannot personally destroy them through bad decisions, addiction, divorce, lawsuits, or simple carelessness.
Some families use what's called a dynasty trust. A trust structure specifically designed to last for multiple generations, sometimes indefinitely in states or jurisdictions that allow it. Every dollar placed inside is meant to compound for a century or more, generating income for beneficiaries along the way, but never being fully distributed.
Within the trust, there's often a distinction between income and principal. Beneficiaries frequently have a right to income generated by the trust's investments, dividends, interest, rental income, but no right to the principal itself, except under specific, narrow circumstances defined by the trustee, such as education, medical need, or starting a business.
Two. The family office. Once a family's assets reach a certain scale, they often establish a family office, essentially a private company whose only client is the family. A family office might employ accountants, investment managers, estate attorneys, tax specialists, real estate managers, and sometimes even household staff coordinators, philanthropic advisers, and family psychologists.
The largest, oldest fortunes use single family offices built exclusively around them. Smaller old money families, those with tens of millions rather than billions, often use multi-family offices, which pool several families' assets to share the cost of this professional infrastructure, while still maintaining separate accounts and separate rules for each family.
The family office's core job, in cash management terms, is running what's essentially a miniature central bank for the family. It manages the flow of cash from investments into a controlled pool, and from that pool out to individual family members, according to rules the family has agreed on. Rules we'll get into in the next section.
Three. Holding companies and investment vehicles. Many old money families also operate through holding companies, legal entities that own shares in operating businesses, real estate, or investment funds, rather than the family owning those assets directly. This does a few things. It centralizes decision-making. It provides liability protection. A lawsuit against one asset generally can't reach into the others, and it creates a clean, auditable structure for passing ownership to the next generation without physically dividing up individual properties or business units.
Picture it like this. Instead of five siblings each owning 1/5 of a farm, a ranch, an apartment building, and a stock portfolio, a messy, conflict-prone arrangement, the family creates a single holding company that owns all four assets, and the five siblings each own 1/5 of the company. Decisions get made at the company level, professionally, rather than through five individual owners squabbling over a farm none of them actually wants to run.
If this is starting to click for you, if you're seeing why the structure matters as much as the money itself, do me a favor and hit that like button. It genuinely helps this video reach more people who are trying to actually understand wealth instead of just watching flashy content about it.
Okay, let's keep going because the next part is where it gets really interesting. How much cash individual family members are actually allowed to touch.
The allowance system, how much cash actually reaches a person. This is the part almost nobody talks about and it's arguably the most important piece of the entire puzzle. Old money families deliberately structurally limit how much cash any individual member can access. Even members who are on paper worth tens of millions of dollars.
Here's the mechanism. Say a family trust generates 4% in annual income from its investment portfolio. A common rule sometimes called the 4% distribution rule, a cousin of the retirement planning concept with the same name, is that only that income not the principal gets distributed to beneficiaries each year. If the trust holds $50 million and earns 4% that's $2 million a year split among however many beneficiaries the trust covers. An individual grandchild might receive a fraction of that. Enough to live extremely comfortably but nowhere near enough to make a life-altering reckless purchase that could damage the family's overall position.
Some families go further and use a unit rust structure distributing a fixed percentage of the trust's total value recalculated annually rather than actual income earned. This smooths out volatility. In a bad year distribution shrinks somewhat rather than the trust being forced to sell assets at a loss to cover a fixed payout.
Crucially, many trusts include spendthrift clauses. Legal provisions stating that a beneficiary's interest in the trust cannot be assigned, sold, or seized by creditors before it's distributed to them. This protects the family's wealth even if an individual member gets sued, goes bankrupt, or goes through a messy divorce. Their personal creditors simply cannot reach the trust's core assets. Only whatever has already been distributed into that person's personal account.
There's also often a staged distribution schedule tied to age or milestones. It's extremely common to see structures like a beneficiary receives income only until age 25, a portion of principal at 30, another portion at 35, and full access, if ever, not until 40 or later. The logic is straightforward and frankly backed by a fair amount of behavioral research. People in their early 20s, even brilliant responsible ones, are statistically far more likely to make catastrophic financial decisions than people in their 40s. Old money families essentially build a time delay into their own genetics.
Beyond the formal trust rules, many families layer in informal cultural rules that are just as powerful. It is extremely common in old money households for children to be given comparatively modest allowances growing up, not because the family can't afford more, but because the family wants the child's relationship with everyday spending to be calibrated to normal life, not to the size of the family's total net worth. Stories abound of old money heirs who worked ordinary summer jobs, who were expected to save for their own extras, who didn't learn the full scope of the family's wealth until they were adults and demonstrably responsible.
This is a strategy, not an accident. If a child grows up believing that money is effectively infinite, their spending instincts calibrate to that belief. And those instincts don't magically recalibrate once they're handed real control of serious capital. So, the family manages the information about the wealth's scale almost as carefully as it manages the wealth itself.
It's worth pausing on just how counterintuitive this is compared to popular assumptions about generational wealth. Most people picture heirs living lives of total unstructured excess, unlimited credit cards, no accountability, no boundaries. In genuinely old money households, the opposite is often closer to the truth. The excess, where it exists, tends to be reserved for the family's collective long-term projects, the estate, the foundation, the business, rather than for any single individual's discretionary spending. A grandchild might grow up in a house worth tens of millions of dollars while receiving a weekly allowance not meaningfully different from a middle-class household's, precisely because the house belongs to the trust and the allowance is calibrated to build character rather than to reflect net worth. The mansion is the family's. The allowance is the lesson.
This is exactly the kind of detail that gets lost in most wealth content online. The psychological engineering behind the financial engineering. If you want more of this, deeper dives into how real financial systems actually work, subscribe and tap the notification bell so you don't miss the next one.
All right. Let's talk about where all this cash actually goes once it's released.
The three bucket allocation philosophy. Old money cash management typically organizes wealth into what you can think of as three broad buckets, each with a different job, different risk profile, and different time horizon.
Bucket one, the core permanent capital. This is the corpus we discussed earlier, the untouchable perpetual base. It's typically allocated conservatively, a diversified mix of blue-chip equities, high-grade bonds, real estate, and sometimes a modest allocation to alternative assets like private equity or timberland. The explicit goal for this bucket isn't maximum return. It's durability. Many family offices describe their target for this bucket not as beat the market but as preserve real purchasing power across a century, which, after accounting for inflation, taxes, and periodic recessions, is a genuinely difficult target that requires real discipline to hit.
Bucket two, the income stream. This is the layer designed to generate the cash that actually gets distributed to living family members. Dividends, rental income, interest payments, and business distributions. It's managed somewhat more actively than the core bucket, but the mandate is still income reliability over growth speed. You'll often see heavy allocations here to dividend aristocrats, companies with multi-decade histories of increasing dividends, commercial real estate with long-term leases, and municipal bonds, which in the US offer tax-advantaged income, a meaningful consideration for families in the highest tax brackets.
Bucket three, opportunistic {slash} venture capital. Here's something that surprises people. Old money families are not universally risk-averse. Many allocate a deliberately small slice of the overall portfolio, often somewhere in the single-digit percentage range, to high-risk, high-reward opportunities. Venture capital, early-stage private companies, speculative real estate development, or new business ventures championed by younger family members. The logic is elegant. This bucket is explicitly sized so that even a total loss doesn't meaningfully damage the family's overall position. But a major win can meaningfully add to it. It also serves a second, less obvious purpose. It gives ambitious younger family members a sanctioned outlet for risk-taking and entrepreneurial energy, channeling it away from the core wealth and into a contained space where mistakes are affordable and successes are celebrated.
This three-bucket approach is, in many ways, the institutional scale version of advice you've probably heard before. Don't put all your eggs in one basket. Don't invest money you can't afford to lose. And keep your speculative bets small relative to your overall position. Old money families didn't invent this wisdom, but they operationalized it with a level of structural discipline that individual investors rarely achieve. Because for them, breaking the rule isn't just a bad personal decision. It's a violation of a duty owed to generations that haven't been born yet.
Which of these three buckets do you think you're currently over invested in personally? Core, income, or opportunistic? I'm genuinely curious how this maps onto regular people's actual habits. Drop it in the comments. I read everyone.
Real estate as the anchor asset. If there's one asset class that shows up disproportionately in old money portfolios across every country and every era, it's real estate. And understanding why reveals a lot about the underlying philosophy.
Real estate has several properties that make it uniquely suited to multi-generational preservation. It's tangible. It can't evaporate the way a company can go bankrupt or a currency can collapse. It produces income through rent, which fits neatly into the income bucket we just discussed. It tends to hold value reasonably well against inflation since replacement costs and rents generally rise with the broader price level. And it's illiquid in a way that counterintuitively becomes a feature rather than a bug for this kind of family. Illiquidity makes it much harder for any single beneficiary to impulsively sell off a piece of the family's core holdings.
Old money families frequently hold real estate, not as a collection of individually owned houses, but as a portfolio, commercial buildings, agricultural land, timberland, sometimes entire city blocks, managed by professional property managers under the family office or holding company umbrella, generating steady rental income that flows back into the income bucket.
There's also a defensive logic at play. Land, in particular, is one of the few assets that is extremely difficult to make disappear through mismanagement. A stock portfolio can be sold off in an afternoon by an impulsive decision. A family's ancestral farmland, held for eight generations, is psychologically and often legally much harder to liquidate. There's friction built into the asset itself, on top of whatever legal friction the trust structure adds.
It's worth noting this isn't just an American or European phenomenon. Land holding as the anchor of generational wealth appears across cultures and centuries, from British landed aristocracy to Japanese merchant families to agrarian dynasties throughout Latin America and Asia. The specific legal wrapper differs by country, but the underlying instinct, hold hard assets, generate steady income, resist liquidation, shows up again and again wherever wealth has actually survived multiple generations.
There's also a tax dimension that makes real estate particularly attractive to these long horizon structures. In many jurisdictions, real estate offers depreciation deductions that can offset taxable income even while the underlying property is appreciating in actual market value. A mismatch between paper losses and real gains that sophisticated family offices use deliberately. Real estate held within certain trust and partnership structures can also be transferred to the next generation with valuation discounts applied for lack of control or lack of marketability, meaningfully reducing the tax cost of passing ownership down. None of this is exotic or secretive. It's publicly available tax law, but it requires the kind of dedicated professional attention that a family office is specifically built to provide and that an individual investor juggling a full-time job rarely has the bandwidth to fully exploit.
Beyond the numbers, there's a quieter reason real estate persists across old money portfolios generation after generation. It's an asset people can physically stand on. A stock certificate doesn't give a 12-year-old any felt sense of what the family actually owns. A working farm, a historic building downtown, or a family compound does. Several family governance advisors describe physical property as a kind of teaching tool in its own right, a tangible entry point for explaining stewardship, maintenance, and long-term thinking to heirs who are still years away from being handed a spreadsheet full of ticker symbols.
The psychology and education of heirs. We've covered the legal and financial architecture, but old money families will tell you, if you can get them to talk candidly, which is rare, that the structures only work if the people inside them are prepared to respect them. And that preparation is treated as seriously as the financial planning itself.
Many families implement what's essentially a formal curriculum for heirs. This can include structured financial education, starting in the teenage years, real conversations about the family's investment philosophy, how the trust works, what their eventual responsibilities will be. Some families require heirs to work in an unrelated industry for a period before joining any family business or family family office role, specifically so they build a sense of competence and identity independent of the family's wealth. Others require heirs to sit on the boards of smaller family investments or philanthropic entities early on, essentially serving an apprenticeship in stewardship before they're given authority over anything significant.
There's a recurring theme in how old money families talk about wealth internally, the language of stewardship rather than ownership. A member of the family is taught to see themselves not as someone who owns the wealth, but as someone temporarily responsible for it. A caretaker whose job is to pass it along in at least as good condition as they received it. This reframing does something psychologically powerful. It changes the emotional relationship to spending. Spending down the core isn't just financially risky. Inside this framework, it's framed almost as a moral failure, a betrayal of ancestors and descendants alike.
Family meetings, sometimes formal annual gatherings, sometimes quarterly, are another common feature. These aren't just social occasions. They often include actual reviews of the family's financial position, discussions about upcoming major expenses, philanthropic decisions, and sometimes structured conflict resolution processes, since disagreements between siblings and cousins over money are unsurprisingly one of the most common threats to these structures surviving intact.
Prenuptial agreements are another under-discussed piece of this puzzle. In old money families, prenups are frequently treated as simply a standard unemotional part of getting married, not a sign of distrust, but a structural necessity to ensure that assets held in trust for the family remain protected in the event of divorce. It's telling that many family trusts are specifically drafted to be divorce-resistant by design, holding assets in ways that keep them outside the marital estate entirely, regardless of what a prenup does or doesn't say.
If you know someone building or managing family wealth, or honestly, anyone who's a parent trying to figure out how to teach their kids healthy money habits, this section alone is worth sending to them. Go ahead and share this video with them now. I'll wait.
Philanthropy as a cash management tool. Here's a piece that surprises people who assume philanthropy is purely altruistic. For old money families, structured giving is also a deliberate cash management and wealth preservation tool. And understanding this doesn't make the generosity less real. It just reveals how integrated it is with everything else.
Family foundations and donor-advised funds serve several practical functions simultaneously. They provide meaningful tax deductions, reducing the family's overall tax burden in ways that free up more capital to remain invested in the core buckets. They create a legitimate structured outlet for the family's income beyond the core distributions. A way to deploy capital meaningfully without it flowing into an individual's personal spending. And they often serve as another training ground for younger family members who frequently their formal involvement in family finance by sitting on the foundation's board, learning to evaluate grant proposals, manage a smaller lower stakes investment portfolio, and exercise fiduciary judgment before they're given any authority over the family's core wealth.
There's also a legacy dimension that's hard to overstate. A family foundation, once established and properly funded, can outlive every person who created it, carrying the family's name and values forward for generations, sometimes centuries, independent of what happens to any individual member's personal finances. Some of the most recognizable charitable foundations in the world today were originally seeded by individual family fortunes generations ago, and continue operating as major philanthropic forces long after the founding families direct business interests have changed dramatically or dissolved entirely.
In cash flow terms specifically philanthropic giving also functions as a pressure release valve. Extremely wealthy families generate more income than any reasonable number of people could res sponsibly spend on personal consumption. Rather than letting that surplus sit idle get taxed inefficiently or worse get distributed in ways that erode the discipline of younger family members it gets rerouted into philanthropic capital doing good in the world while simultaneously reinforcing the family's core values around restraint and stewardship.
The modern evolution how old money is adapting. It would be misleading to present all of this as static or unchanging. Old money families that are still thriving today have had to evolve significantly. Family offices increasingly incorporate alternative assets that didn't exist or weren't accessible a generation ago. Private equity funds hedge fund allocations and more recently measured exposure to newer asset classes as they mature and develop clearer regulatory and custodial infrastructure.
Many family offices have also become considerably more sophisticated about tax strategy across international jurisdictions since modern old money families are frequently spread across multiple countries. There's also a generational shift in values showing up inside these old structures. Younger heirs are increasingly pushing for impact investing, directing portions of the family's opportunistic bucket toward companies and funds that align with environmental or social goals alongside financial return. Rather than resisting this outright, many family offices have created formal channels for it, essentially giving the next generation a sanctioned space to express these values without destabilizing the core preservation mandate, echoing the same contained risk-taking logic used for entrepreneurial ventures.
Digital privacy and security have also become a much larger part of the picture. Old money families, historically protected by simple discretion and lack of public visibility, now have to actively manage their digital footprint, cybersecurity around family office systems, and protection against increasingly sophisticated fraud and social engineering targeting wealthy families specifically.
What hasn't changed, notably, is the core philosophy. Preserve the corpus. Control the flow. Educate before you empower. Structure before you distribute. The tools have modernized. The underlying logic, the thing that actually prevents the 90% failure rate, has remained remarkably consistent for well over a century.
Why most fortunes still don't survive. The common failure points. Given everything we've just covered, it's worth pausing to ask an uncomfortable question. If this playbook is so well understood, why does the 90% failure rate still hold up so consistently?
Wealth advisors who study this closely point to a handful of recurring failure points. And almost none of them are about bad investments. The single most cited cause isn't market performance at all. It's breakdown in communication and trust between family members. Studies on multi-generational wealth transfer consistently find that a large majority of failures stem from disputes, poor communication, or a lack of shared purpose among heirs, rather than from poor portfolio management or excessive taxation. A trust document can be airtight on paper and still fail in practice if the people governed by it don't trust the trustee, resent a sibling's larger distribution, or were never actually taught why the rules exist in the first place.
The second major failure point is unprepared heirs. Not unintelligent heirs, just heirs who were handed authority without ever being walked through the responsibility that comes with it. A brilliant doctor or engineer can be a genuinely poor steward of a nine-figure trust if nobody ever taught them the difference between personal spending and institutional stewardship. This is precisely why the education before empowerment piece we covered earlier isn't a nice-to-have. Families that skip it tend to be the families whose wealth doesn't make it to the fourth generation.
The third failure point is simply family growth out pacing the asset base. A fortune that comfortably supports two children can fracture badly by the time it's supporting 20 grandchildren and 40 great-grandchildren, each expecting a lifestyle proportional to the family name rather than to their actual fractional share. Families that survive long-term tend to explicitly plan for this dilution, reinvesting aggressively enough in the core bucket to keep pace with the family's own population growth, treating headcount essentially as another form of inflation the portfolio has to outrun.
What regular people can actually borrow from this? You don't need $50 million or a family office to apply the underlying logic here. Let's translate it down.
Separate your corpus from your income even informally. You can build your own version of a trust's discipline simply by mentally or literally in separate accounts, dividing your savings into a never-touch long-term bucket and this is what I actually spend bucket, refusing to let good months in the spending bucket bleed into the untouchable one.
Build your own three-bucket system, a core of boring diversified low-cost index investments, a modest income-generating layer, a small strictly capped percentage, many financial planners suggest somewhere around 5 to 10% allocated to higher-risk bets you're genuinely willing to lose entirely, whether that's individual stocks, a small business idea, or something more speculative.
Delay full access to windfalls. If you receive a large inheritance, bonus, or settlement, consider deliberately structuring your own access to it. For instance, keeping the bulk of it in a less liquid, harder to touch account for a mandatory cooling off period, rather than letting the entire sum sit somewhere you could spend it on impulse next week.
Treat major financial decisions as family decisions, not individual ones. If you have a partner or family depending on the outcome. Old money's family meeting concept scales down surprisingly well to a monthly household budget conversation.
Separate your children's daily experience of money from your actual net worth, whatever that net worth is. The instinct to calibrate spending habits to normal ordinary life, rather than to your current bank balance, is one of the more transferable lessons here, and it costs nothing to implement.
None of this requires generational wealth. It requires the willingness to impose structure on yourself before a crisis forces it on you, which frankly is the entire secret old money families figured out, and regular financial advice rarely emphasizes enough.
If even one of those five points is something you want to actually implement, don't just nod along and close the tab. Write down which one right now in the comments. Public commitment is genuinely one of the most effective behavior change tools there is, and I want to see what you're taking from this. And if you found this valuable, subscribe, because next week I'm breaking down exactly how family offices structure their investment portfolios, asset by asset, the actual percentages, the actual instruments. You won't want to miss it.
The families who've held on to wealth for a century or more didn't do it because they were smarter investors than everyone else or luckier or more talented at picking stocks. In most cases, they weren't. What they did was build a system that didn't depend on any single person's discipline, brilliance, or good judgment in any given year. A system that assumed people would make mistakes, get divorced, go through reckless phases, disagree with each other, and protected the wealth from all of it anyway.
That's the actual lesson buried under all the mansions and the trust funds and the old family names. It was never really about the money. It was about the structure around the money, built patiently generation after generation by people who understood something most of us only learn the hard way. That money doesn't stay in a family. Systems do.
Thanks for watching. I'll see you in the next one.