In The Adolescent (1875), Fyodor Dostoevsky gives us Arkady Dolgoruky, a young man trying to locate his center of gravity while orbiting a family system organized around wealth, power, and the capricious authority of a charismatic father. Arkady’s psychic and relational life is distorted by a persistent conflation: his father is his father’s money, and to love or hate one is to love or hate the other. In this confusion, admiration sours into resentment, and longing for connection hardens into hostility toward both the man and the fortune that defines him.
Written a century and a half ago, the novel anticipates with eerie precision the struggles of many contemporary clients whose lives are structured around great wealth. Today, these Arkadys appear in our consulting rooms as next-generation inheritors, heirs, and heiresses charged with carrying forward a dynastic legacy, and partners who have married into complex, ruling families. Outwardly, these clients inhabit worlds of access and abundance; inwardly, they describe an emotional topography marked by groundlessness, anxiety, depression, and feeling trapped in a life that is supposed to look like winning.
Clinically, these clients present with addictive, mood, personality, and relational disorders that interrupt healthy individuation and stall the work of maturation. They speak of feeling “stuck” and furious—elevated and envied by the outside world, yet privately infantilized, emasculated, or disempowered, their agency eclipsed by the sheer mass of the family enterprise. In this regard, they are simultaneously over-seen and unseen: scrutinized as representatives of the dynasty, but rarely met as separate, independent, and emerging selves.
It is about disentangling the patient’s self-concept and psyche from the family’s capital and cultural mythology.
In our clinical work with these clients, a systemic lens has proven essential. The tools of systemic and interpersonal therapies, combined with research on the intrapsychic, interpersonal, and cultural dimensions of an identity of wealth, help us understand that these struggles do not arise in a vacuum. They are the predictable outcomes of living within a powerful financial and symbolic system in which love, money, and belonging are woven so tightly that questioning one feels like betraying all. Within this frame, treatment is not simply about symptom reduction; it is about disentangling the patient’s self-concept and psyche from the family’s capital and cultural mythology.

Our task, as marriage and family therapists privileged to work at this intersection of mental health and wealth, is to help our clients accommodate and assimilate an identity of wealth into a stable, resilient self-concept, rather than organizing their whole being around either the idealization or the repudiation of money. We accompany them as they take up the normal developmental tasks of the mornings of their lives—work, love, creativity, ethical responsibility—not as extensions of the family balance sheet, but as authors of their own stories. When this process succeeds, privilege becomes less a burden or accusation and more one of several tools with which to build a coherent and ethically engaged life.
Just as Dostoevsky understood that the real battles of maturation are waged within and resolved through a narrative and interpersonal process, we too need to use our craft to guide our clients on a reparative journey. In the consulting room, we echo this insight by using the therapeutic relationship to turn our clients’ attention from external markers of success—net worth, reputation, legacy—toward their relational and psychic needs. In this regard, the work is to move our clients from being objects in someone else’s story of greatness to becoming subjects in their own unique and unfolding text.
By creating a culturally humble therapeutic alliance with these clients, in which they are seen as vulnerable human beings rather than objects of privilege, we are invited to see what is usually defended against: where entitlement conceals fear, where grandiosity defends against shame, where loyalty to the family system has suffocated loyalty to the self. We learn to recognize the subtle ways hostility toward wealth manifests—not only in overt rebellion or conspicuous rejection of privilege, but also in passive-aggressive under-functioning, stalled careers, self-sabotaged relationships, and a stubborn refusal to grow up. We learn to see these external behavioral manifestations not as moral failings but as misdirected attempts to wrest back authorship in a system that has claimed copyright on the client’s life.

The work is demanding—for the clinician and the client alike—precisely because it asks both parties to stay present in a field where money has long been used to anesthetize, intimidate, or seduce. Yet all things of genuine value resist shortcuts. When a person embedded in a powerful financial system begins to claim authorship of their own story, something profound occurs—wealth loses its status as a verdict on their worth and becomes, instead, one element in a larger moral and psychological project. In that shift, the most toxic expressions of pathology soften, and in their place, we can witness the emergence of strength, resilience, grit, and a renewed commitment to deploying privilege in the service of repair rather than repetition of harm.
Arkady’s dilemma is, in this sense, a timeless one. It belongs to anyone raised inside a story of exceptionalism and power who finds themselves asking whether it is possible to be both fully human and unmistakably privileged. The answer our clinical work suggests is yes—but only if wealth is disentangled from the literal and figurative father, from the family myth, and from the cultural illusions that money can substitute for love, meaning, or a self.
For those of us working at the nexus of psychology and wealth, this is the invitation and the obligation of our time. If you are a clinician encountering these patients at the edges of your current competencies, now is the moment to deepen your systemic and cultural literacy around wealth and its discontents. And if you are a next-generation inheritor, a partner in a powerful financial family, or a professional advising such systems, consider this your call to step into a different kind of conversation—one in which wealth is no longer the protagonist, but a supporting character in a life story that finally, and rightly, belongs to you.

Dr. Paul Hokemeyer is a licensed marriage and family therapist who holds a Clinical Fellow designation from AAMFT and is a graduate of the Global Leaders in Healthcare program at Harvard Medical School. His book, Fragile Power (Hazelden, 2019), has become the seminal resource for therapists seeking to develop cultural humility and competency in working with clients of wealth, and his work has been featured in a wide variety of international media outlets, including the Financial Times, The World Economic Forum, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal.
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