What do U.S. presidents and your everyday person have in common? Turns out, more than you think, especially when it comes to money. Megan Gorman’s All the Presidents’ Money pulls back the curtain on the financial lives of America’s leaders, revealing a side we rarely think about: their finances. From massive debt to savvy investments, from marrying rich to stock market blunders, this book proves that being president doesn’t make you immune to the highs and lows of managing money.
Presidents: More Relatable Than You’d Expect
When we think about presidents, we tend to picture larger-than-life figures making crucial decisions about the future of the nation. What we don’t imagine is them lying awake at night worrying about overdue bills or getting bad advice from a stockbroker. But Gorman shows us that even the most powerful people in the world had their own financial battles—and sometimes, they lost.
Take Harry Truman. There’s this myth that he was the poorest president, and while he certainly wasn’t swimming in cash, it was more about his anxiety over money than his actual situation. He was a frugal guy, yes, but he also struggled with the same kind of late-night worries about his savings that so many of us do.
Then there’s Calvin Coolidge, who made a classic mistake: he trusted his stockbroker at the worst possible time. In 1930, when the stock market was still spiraling downward after the crash, Coolidge doubled down on stocks. The result? Not exactly the financial legacy you’d hope for from someone nicknamed “Silent Cal.”
Financial Wins and Faceplants
Not all presidents struggled, though. Some had serious financial game. Herbert Hoover, for example, made a fortune as a mining engineer long before he got into politics. He’s proof that brains and hustle can pay off, even if his presidency didn’t exactly go down in history as a roaring success. Gerald Ford was another winner in the financial department, playing it smart with investments and living comfortably well after his time in office.
And then there’s George Washington. Yep, America’s first president knew how to make moves—marrying Martha Custis, a wealthy widow, definitely helped him secure his spot among the financially stable Founding Fathers. Gorman doesn’t sugarcoat it: Washington played the game and played it well.
On the flip side, there’s Thomas Jefferson, one of the most brilliant minds of his time, who just couldn’t get a handle on his finances. Despite his intellect and accomplishments, he left behind a mountain of debt. It’s a reminder that even being the author of the Declaration of Independence doesn’t mean you’re immune to living beyond your means.
Modern Presidents and Money
What’s fascinating is how times have changed. Early presidents like Jefferson or Madison had no way to cash in on their legacy once they left office. For them, there were no book deals, no lucrative speaking engagements, no Netflix documentaries. Contrast that with Joe Biden, who spent years living modestly but finally found financial stability through publishing deals and other opportunities after serving as vice president.
Gorman does a great job of weaving these stories together to show how the economic landscape has evolved. Presidents today have a much easier time monetizing their experience after leaving office, but that doesn’t mean they’ve all been financially savvy. Each story feels unique, but together they paint a fascinating picture of how America’s leaders have navigated wealth, risk, and even financial disaster.
Why This Book Works
Here’s the thing about All the Presidents’ Money: it’s not just a history lesson, and it’s definitely not a dry recounting of financial stats. Gorman has a knack for storytelling, and she makes these presidents feel human. She doesn’t just give you the facts; she gives you the emotions behind them—the anxieties, the ambitions, the missteps, and the moments of triumph.
Her writing is conversational but still packed with detail. For example, when she describes Coolidge’s stock market loss, you can almost feel his regret. And when she talks about Lyndon B. Johnson’s shrewd business deals, you can’t help but admire his boldness, even if you don’t love everything about him as a person. It’s a mix of humor, empathy, and historical insight that keeps you turning the pages.
Big Lessons in Small Details
What’s especially cool about this book is how it connects to real life. Sure, most of us will never be president (or anywhere close), but their financial stories are surprisingly relatable. Gorman breaks down how things like education, connections, and even sheer luck played into these leaders’ money decisions. It’s a reminder that while some factors are out of our control, the choices we make—good or bad—have ripple effects.
And let’s be real: it’s also kind of comforting to know that even the most powerful people in the country have made the same mistakes we have. Trusted the wrong advice? Jefferson did that. Lived beyond your means? Truman’s been there. Took a big financial risk and lost? Hello, Coolidge.
The Bottom Line
If you’re into history, personal finance, or just love a good story about people figuring things out (or failing spectacularly), All the Presidents’ Money is a must-read. Megan Gorman manages to make a topic like presidential finances feel fresh, engaging, and relevant. You’ll come away not only with a better understanding of these leaders as people but also with a deeper appreciation for how money shapes lives, no matter who you are.
It’s fascinating, it’s funny, and it’s packed with moments that will make you pause and think, Wow, even George Washington had to hustle. Whether you’re a history buff, a money nerd, or just curious about the personal lives of presidents, this book has something for you. Plus, it’s a good reminder that no one—no matter how powerful—is immune to financial stress.
So go ahead, give it a read. You’ll laugh, you’ll learn, and you might even pick up a few lessons for your own financial journey. And at the very least, you’ll come away knowing that even presidents can mess up a budget. That’s got to be worth something, right?