About 50 years ago, Walter Mischel a psychologist did an experiment at Stanford University, where he was a professor. In this experiment, 5 year-olds were given a marshmallow or some other treat, and told they could eat it immediately—but if they waited 15 minutes, they could have two.

The experiment sought to test the variations in delayed gratification in young children. Some twenty years later, another much more disputed experiment, made the controversial claim that the longer a child could wait before eating the marshmallow, the better their chances at succeeding in life—better SAT scores, fewer behavioral problems, fresher breath, and a clearer complexion—well, not the last part.

I remember seeing video of these kids sitting in front of that marshmallow. Some ate it as soon as the person in the white coat walked out of the room. Others had strategies for distracting themselves, so that they could hold out for the second treat—talking to themselves, acting like the marshmallow sitting on the table in front of them wasn’t there. And I remember thinking, “I was totally an eat-the-marshmallow-right-now sort of kid.”

When I was a kid, if it was between you and me and some candy—well, let’s just say, I hope your health insurance is paid up.

I remember my mom taking my brother and I to the bank to open a savings account. This was, of course, supposed to teach us the value of setting a little bit of money aside on a regular basis. After some lengthy period of time, we could then withdraw our small fortune and use it to buy something really great—a new bike, or a baseball glove, or a down payment on college tuition.

I didn’t get to the end of the week before I was pestering my mom to take that five bucks out of my savings account—because, do you know how much candy five dollars would buy in the 1970s?

She didn’t let me take it out, though, and I didn’t put any more in. So there’s a bank account somewhere in western Michigan that with the interest on $5 over forty years is now probably worth somewhere north of $5.12. So, if I can ever track that down, retirement is going to be pretty cushy.

I wasn’t much of a saver. I’m better about it now, but it sure took long enough. The pressure for instant gratification is persistent and cruel.

Lots of people find themselves in that boat, though. Credit card companies, pay-day lenders, shady used car salespeople, sketchy mortgage brokers take advantage of the cruel pressure; they all rely on the fact that so many people need help badly enough now that they’ll agree to just about any terms to get it.

But there are other people out there, willing to put off experiencing the good stuff now for the promise of some amazing deal somewhere on the distant horizon. You know what I’m talking about, right?

My grandpa and grandma Penwell worked their whole lives to save up money to leave their children—my grandfather a farmer and my grandmother a beautician. Never took a vacation in sixty years of work. The only vacation my grandpa ever took was to drive his pickup truck down to Tennessee and help Susan and I move back to Michigan.

And we said—as I’m sure many of you have said to your parents and grandparents—“Spend the money, for crying out loud! Go some place. Enjoy yourselves a little. After all, you’ve earned it.”

No such luck. My grandpa got Parkinsons, and somebody made some bad investments for my grandma after he died, and it was all gone. All those years, saving up for a big payoff that never came.

There’s a philosophical argument in there somewhere. Do you live as hard as you can today because you’re not promised tomorrow? Or do you put off satisfaction with the belief that it’ll all pay off somewhere down the road in some future jackpot?

Which kind of person are you? Are you an eat-the-marshmallow-now kind of person, or a wait-to-get-two-marshmallows-sometime-later kind of person?

This isn’t just an academic, first year philosophy major question either. We have to make real life decisions based on whether we’re going to look for as much enjoyment as we can right now—since tomorrow’s not guaranteed to any of us—or are we going to risk putting off pleasure now so that we can enjoy a larger reward later?

We know the “smart” thing, don’t we?

Capitalism (and the religion that thrives under capitalism) much prefers a longer term investment strategy. The folks who wear Brooks Brothers suits and carefully shepherd their brokerage accounts have a habit of looking down their noses at people who appear not to be able to think past the next meal—calling them impulsive, short-sighted, and lazy.

But poverty is not for the squeamish and the indolent. It’s hard work having nothing and wanting more.

These paragons of economic virtue see people hungry for bread for the day and wonder to themselves: “Why don’t these people think ahead? Why don’t they plan better? Why don’t they make better choices?”