IN the aftermath of last week’s hailstorm in Islamabad, social media was filled with images of shattered car windows and dented roofs.
But amidst the collective sighs of despair, an interesting pattern emerged: the internet’s empathy seemed to flow generously toward owners of smaller and more modest cars, while luxury car owners were met with a collective shrug—or worse, a smirk.
“Oh, they can afford it,” some commented, as if wealth automatically comes with an immunity to misfortune or a lack of feelings.
This phenomenon is not new.
It is a microcosm of a broader societal attitude: a simmering disdain for the wealthy.
But why do we hate rich people?
Is it envy?
A sense of justice?
Or perhaps as Karl Marx might argue, the inevitable result of a class struggle embedded in the deep roots society?
Karl Marx, the 19th-century philosopher and economist argued that societies are fundamentally divided into classes: the bourgeoisie (the wealthy, who own the means of production) and the proletariat (the working class, who sell their labour).
According to Marx, this division creates an inherent power struggle.
The rich, by virtue of their wealth wield disproportionate influence over politics, culture and even morality.
They are seen not just as individuals, but as symbols of systemic inequality.
In this context, the disdain for the rich is not just personal, it is political.
Thus maybe, when a luxury car gets damaged in a hailstorm, it is not just a car—it is a symbol of excess, of privilege and of a system that many feel is rigged against them.
The owner of the modest car on the other hand, becomes a symbol of resilience, of the “everyman” struggling against the odds.
Okay, let us not give ourselves too much credit.
Sometimes, our disdain for the rich is less about systemic inequality and more about good old-fashioned envy.
The German word “schadenfreude” captures this perfectly– the pleasure derived from someone else’s misfortune.
When a billionaire’s yacht sinks or a millionaire’s car gets dented, it is hard not to feel a tiny, guilty thrill.
After all, they have so much—surely they can afford to lose a little?
This envy is often masked as moral superiority.
“They’re probably corrupt,” we tell ourselves.
“They do not deserve it.
” But deep down, it is not just about what they have—it is about what we do not!
Another layer to this disdain is the skepticism towards the idea of the “self-made” millionaire.
While some wealthy individuals have indeed worked hard for their success, many others have benefited from inherited wealth, systemic advantages or sheer luck.
This undermines the narrative that wealth is a reward for hard work and fuels the perception that the rich are undeserving of their privilege.
Returning to the hailstorm in Islamabad, Imagine the scene: a modest Suzuki Mehran parked next to a gleaming Mercedes-Benz.
The hailstones come down like divine retribution, smashing both the cars equally.
The Mehran owner posts a tearful video on social media and gathers thousands of sympathetic comments and offers of financial help.
The Mercedes owner posts the same video and is met with comments like, “Must be nice to have a car worth more than my house.
”It is almost as if we believe that wealth should come with a side of invincibility.
If you are rich, you are not allowed to complain.
Your problems are not real problems.
And if you dare to show vulnerability, you are met with scorn rather than sympathy.
On the other hand, of course, being rich does come with undeniable privileges like access to better healthcare, educationand opportunities.
But it also comes with its own set of challenges.
So, why do we hate rich people?
The answer is complex–a tangled web of envy, systemic inequality and moral judgment.
But perhaps it is time to untangle that web and approach the issue with a little more nuance—and a lot more empathy.
After all, wealth does not make someone inherently good or bad.
It does not make their problems any less real or their feelings any less valid.
Because at the end of the day, everyone is just trying to weather the storm!
—The writer is contributing columnist, based in Islamabad.
