A financially comfortable friend has set up a GoFundMe for vet bills. Is this socially acceptable? | Leading questions

A friend, who I believe is financially comfortable, set up a GoFundMe page to pay for vet bills for their sick dog while on holiday overseas.

The family appears to be financially comfortable; both adults have good jobs, own two cars, have all the latest gadgets like expensive bikes and sporting equipment, take an annual holiday overseas and domestic holidays throughout the year, and live in a big house in a well-to-do area.

Is it socially acceptable to ask for money publicly in these circumstances?

Eleanor says: I’ll never forget someone posting their household expenses as proof it’s hard to get by on two six-figure incomes. By the time they’d paid for holidays, two cars, private school fees, insurance, extracurriculars, the mortgage and savings, there was nothing left!

They really did think this was proof they weren’t well-off. I suppose in some sense they’re right. Once you use your money to secure your financial future and have a high quality of life, you don’t have a Scrooge McDuck pile left over.

Point of story: moving up the wealth hierarchy moves your sense of what’s normal. Comparison looks up, not down, so people lose track of how many people they’re above. What they first experienced as an advantage slowly starts to seem like background. It’s possible your friends feel and are genuinely burdened – “we can’t cover this!” – in a situation other people would covet. And importantly, we don’t know their finances. They may not be liquid, precisely because of the holidays and the house and the equipment.

But in the ethics of asking for and giving money, it’s important that money isn’t just money. It has social meaning. Money talks, in the sense that it says things.

What it says isn’t always exhausted by how much people have. It may be important for the less well-off child to take their parents to dinner because that says “thank you”. Or for colleagues or dates to split the bill, because that means neither owes a debt of gratitude. Or to help pay for your child’s wedding even though they could afford it themselves, because that feels significant as a parent.

Where we go wrong is when our interpretations of what money says differ. Somebody thinks they’re being generous; others experience their largesse as domineering. Somebody – like a newlywed drafting the gift registry or, possibly, your friend – thinks they’re making it possible for people to give them money without any expectation of receiving it. Others experience that same action as tone-deaf and entitled.

If money talks, what does their GoFundMe actually say?

They might feel as if it says one thing: “Something unexpected happened, we’d be touched if anyone wanted to contribute.” You might feel as if it says another: “We expect you to cover our bills.” One is an appeal to friendship, the other is an appeal to need.

In fairness, a GoFundMe isn’t means-tested. They can ask, and other people can say no. In their social circle, they may be the least well-off, which would change the dynamics of making this ask.

They’re the authority on what they meant when they uploaded this, but they don’t get to be the authority on what everybody else hears. Meaning isn’t determined solely by our intentions. Their motivations might have been totally benign at the same time as their impact was gauche.

Asking for money introduces a question that nobody had beforehand; why should I help pay for this? They may think that’s a mean-spirited question, if they intended this as an appeal to friendship. But it’s a question they’ve invited people to ask, and you’re allowed to decide your own answer.