Andrew Bolt: James Packer’s state of mind proves super wealth can be a hazard
Despite James Packer’s billions of dollars and a luxury life on the open seas with a seeming freedom from it all, a close look at the man proves money cannot buy happiness, writes Andrew Bolt.
Andrew Bolt
Don't miss out on the headlines from Andrew Bolt. Followed categories will be added to My News.
Billionaire James Packer spoke to a casino inquiry this week from his 354-foot superyacht, cruising in the Pacific. Symbolically unmoored.
And anyone watching him — so halting, so sweaty, so puffy, so humbled, and so, so sad — would say he’s welcome to it all.
The billions. The boat. The luxury life on the open sea and the seeming freedom from everything. Who’d want all that if it meant having to be Packer?
I’m not saying Packer would be happier if he was poorer. But if you wanted proof of one of the great cliches — that money does not buy happiness — check him out.
I’ve met the casino entrepreneur a handful of times, and lunched with him once. He took me on a private tour of his VIP facilities, and proudly pointed out features like hidden air jets to protect dealers from cigarette smoke.
I liked him and was impressed by something I’ve noted in all the billionaires I’ve met — his sharp eye for the telling detail, and his quick grasp of the maths of a good bet.
But he seemed to tow a dark cloud. I have the merest fraction of his wealth and power, but felt sorry for him then, and feel sorrier now.
This week Packer appeared via video link at an inquiry checking whether Crown, of which he owns 37 per cent, is fit to hold a gaming licence in NSW for its casino in Barangaroo.
It has not gone well. For instance, Packer admitted Crown had operated an unlicensed business in China in an unofficial office. The inquiry’s head also declared “it is about time” Crown took a lead in refusing to deal with firms linked to organised crime.
Worse came when the spotlight turned on Packer himself.
Packer admitted he should have told shareholders two years ago why he’d resigned from Crown’s board — because of mental illness.
He also admitted he’d behaved shamefully by sending a threat — so far kept secret — to a financier who’d pulled out of a deal in 2015.
Asked why authorities could then trust in his “character and integrity”, the glassy-eyed Packer replied: “Because I am being treated for my bipolar disease ... I was sick at the time.”
It would be wrong to assume Packer’s depression was triggered by his sometimes difficult relationship with his famous father, the imperious Kerry Packer.
Who knows what really causes that condition, which has sufferers swinging from euphoria to the blackest night?
But there is another factor, perhaps related, which I suspect damaged James Packer. The wealth.
Packer always struck me as a soft-hearted man in need of love, but trained by father and business to be hard.
Worse, his wealth makes every person he meets somehow suspect. What do they really want from him? Why do they laugh at his jokes?
It’s a hazard for all the super-rich, but heart-wounded Packer strikes me as particularly vulnerable.
Look at his strange courtship with singer Mariah Carey. Packer became so infatuated that he proposed to her and gave her an engagement ring reportedly valued at $10 million.
But what was Carey’s game? The couple split up after nine months of engagement, yet Carey didn’t mention Packer in her memoir.
This week she cruelly explained: “If it was a relationship that mattered, it’s in the book. If not, it didn’t occur. We didn’t have a physical relationship.”
What bond isn’t strained by too much money? Packer and sister Gretel fought bitterly over their father’s inheritance.
Packer has also divorced twice, including from the mother of his three children, and brawled in the street with his then best friend, David Gyngell, who was infuriated by Packer’s tumultuous private life.
Another relationship fractured. But with so much money, who knows what’s solid? You feel you could do anything, no limits, no lectures.
Yet we all need moorings. Packer searched for some in faith. He toyed with Scientology, and moved to Israel.
He seemed to me a man wanting to find something that really matters. He looks like he still hasn’t found something bigger than himself, and despairs.
True, I’m not close to Packer so may read things in him that are more in my mind than his.
Still, I look at him and shudder. The poor man. You can storm the world looking for great things to conquer — greater than your father did.
Yet all you need may be back home. The small rituals, quiet virtues and ties that bind. Things you find in a happy home, not a stormy world.
Originally published as Andrew Bolt: James Packer’s state of mind proves super wealth can be a hazard