Dwain Northey (Gen X)

When Parker Brothers first introduced Monopoly to the public in 1935, it was meant as a game — a way to pass the time during the Great Depression, offering people the fantasy of buying up property, collecting rent, and ultimately dominating the board. Yet, for nearly 90 years, this “game” has served as a subtle but constant cultural lesson for generations of Americans: the only way to win is to own everything. There’s no prize for cooperation, no reward for modest success, no satisfaction in simply doing well — victory requires crushing your opponents into bankruptcy and controlling every possible square.
This message, while seemingly harmless in a family game night setting, has seeped into the American consciousness far deeper than most people realize. The Monopoly mindset — that your worth is measured by accumulation and your success by domination — has shaped how we approach business, politics, and even personal ambition. We’ve raised generation after generation to equate “winning” with taking as much as possible, regardless of who loses. It’s not hard to see how this translates into the corporate boardrooms, housing markets, and political systems we have today.
In many ways, America’s economic culture has become a real-life Monopoly board. The billionaires who own vast swaths of industry aren’t all that different from the player who snags Boardwalk and Park Place early in the game. Ordinary people — the ones stuck with Mediterranean Avenue and low-value properties — are left paying rents they can’t afford, with no chance of catching up unless the big players allow it. And just like in the game, the end result isn’t an even distribution of resources; it’s one person, or one small group, owning everything while everyone else is wiped out.
Globally, this has colored how the world views Americans. To many, we’re not seen as collaborators or partners — we’re viewed as relentless competitors, unwilling to share, always angling for the deal that benefits us most. Our national psyche, steeped in the idea that domination is the only true success, has fostered an image of the U.S. as a country obsessed with winning at all costs. That doesn’t just hurt our reputation; it undermines global trust and cooperation.
Perhaps it’s time we rethink the lesson we’ve been teaching since 1935. Winning shouldn’t mean having it all — it should mean making sure everyone has enough. Otherwise, we’re just playing the same game over and over, and the rest of the world is watching us gloat over a board they never wanted to be part of.