Why Are We Obsessed With Each Other’s Money?

Not long ago, money was a subject wrapped in silence. It was whispered about in private, never discussed at parties. Today, it’s everywhere. From Hannah Williams’ viral TikTok salary interviews to Refinery29’s Money Diaries, financial transparency has gone mainstream. It’s no longer enough to wonder what your coworkers make; now, people document every payday ritual, every budgeting hack, and even their exact rent down to the dollar. In a world where financial security (and eggs) feels increasingly out of reach, is knowing what everyone else earns and spends empowering, or is it just sending us into a spiral?

The Rise of Financial Voyeurism

Talking about money was once a social taboo. Sure, we grumbled about taxes, but asking a friend their salary? Off-limits. This silence wasn’t just cultural – it reinforced power dynamics, keeping financial control in the hands of employers and institutions. For many, especially women, it perpetuated economic dependence and kept conversations about wages, wealth, and financial autonomy out of reach.

Then the internet cracked everything open. Glassdoor made salaries searchable, and social media turned financial transparency into a cultural movement. What began as anonymous spreadsheets listing journalist salaries evolved into financial storytelling – largely led by women, who have been opening up conversations about how much we make.

But our curiosity goes beyond paychecks. Caleb Simpson’s viral videos – where he asks strangers, "How much do you pay for rent?" – have millions of views. A Wall Street trader shrugs and says, $8,500 a month. A student in Bushwick confesses, “$900–but I don’t have a door.” The appeal is obvious: We want to compare, to gawk, to validate our own choices.

Even payday has become an event. Scrolling through your FYP will reveal creators refreshing their banking apps at midnight, filming their budgeting breakdowns, and labeling envelopes with color-coded precision. Their comment sections explode with reactions – some empathetic, some envious, some downright resentful. Yet, what starts as openness can quickly become performance.

It’s not just TikTok, actually. Substack has become a goldmine for this genre. Take Feed Me’s Love and Romance survey, a candid deep dive into the absurdities of modern dating where power, money, and ego collide. From $250 first dates to sugar daddies with strange requests, it’s equal parts cringe-worthy and fascinating. Or look at Erika Veurink’s income breakdown that spiked her subscriptions, Laura Reilly’s cost-per-use analyses of her purchases from 2023, which happens to be her third most popular letter of all time, or Lindsey Stanberry’s The Purse, dedicated to the messy, real-life intersection of money, motherhood, work, and relationships. Confirmation: I’m not the only one with an appetite for raw, unfiltered financial content.

Why We Crave Financial Transparency

Our obsession with money isn’t just about curiosity–it’s about survival. In a world where homeownership feels out of reach and wages stretch only so far, knowing how others make it work isn’t just entertainment – it’s financial literacy.

There’s also a deep psychological pull. Social comparison is hardwired into us, and money has always been a status marker. But while previous generations hid their salaries, Gen Z and Millennials want clarity. If a peer in the same job makes $10K more, that’s a sign to negotiate. If someone with a lower salary manages to travel constantly, maybe there’s a credit card hack worth learning.

Then there’s the community aspect. Watching others struggle with rent, wrestle with student loans, or make a case for buying iced coffee for mental health fosters a sense of camaraderie. It transforms personal finance from a lonely burden into a collective experience.

The Dark Side of Oversharing

For all its benefits, financial transparency has its risks. Comparison can be motivating – but it can also be crushing. While some creators share the raw realities of debt, low wages, and financial anxiety, others present a carefully curated version of success.

But transparency doesn’t always equal honesty. One person’s rent breakdown might include help from wealthy parents – but they don’t mention it, unless it’s for an article in New York Magazine. The result? A feeling that everyone else has it together – except you.

Moreover, sharing receipts online might feel empowering, but it also opens the door to judgment, backlash, and even scams. And not all transparency is created equal. A white, heterosexual software engineer revealing their $90K salary might be knowledge, but that doesn’t fix the systemic wage gaps faced by others.

Perhaps the most unsettling side effect of financial oversharing is the culture of resentment it fuels. One Redditor, a 28-year-old former marketer from San Francisco, admitted to The Cut that she scrolls snark communities just to vent about influencers who earn six figures for what she sees as "minimal effort." For her, these forums aren’t just entertainment – they’re validation for her cynicism.

The resentment is not toward broken systems, but toward individuals who seem to be winning. Instead of inspiring action, it’s deepening personal frustration. So, after all this openness, how much has really changed?

What’s Next for Financial Transparency?

Well, some companies are “embracing” pay transparency, courtesy of the new laws. But systemic change is slow, and for now, people will keep turning to their apps to figure out where they stand.

The success of Money with Katie and Girls That Invest – each with over 10 million downloads – proves that this isn’t just a trend. Because in an economy where money feels more out of control than ever, seeing how someone else is making it work feels like the closest thing to control we can get.

And I get it.

When I started my career, I was told you shouldn’t work for money. That talking about salaries was tacky. I had to learn the hard way that knowing what others make matters. The first time I saw someone in my field earning $25K more than me, I went straight to my boss and asked for a raise (I did not get it.) The first time I saw someone put $4,000 toward rent, I felt wildly lucky to still have my 2021 lease. These moments of comparison can be infuriating – but also instructive (like when I invested in Nvidia in 2022 because I saw online that I should!)

At the heart of financial transparency is the idea that knowledge is power. But like any form of power, how we use it matters. If it helps us push for fair wages, demand transparency, and make smarter financial decisions – great. But if it just leaves us resentful, anxious, and drowning in comparison, then maybe it’s time to step back.

The answer, much like our paychecks, depends on how we choose to use it.