Most people are reluctant to let anyone else know how much money they’re earning. However, there are some exceptions. In one example where I experienced such inappropriate secrecy, it had a surprising effect on those involved. Although never a career (lifer) Navy guy, I spent a half-dozen full-time active duty years during two wars, and another decade as a part-time Reservist. There was never any reason to hide our incomes from each other. We all knew what a petty officer third class with two years of service was earning, and what a rear admiral with 30 years would see in his much fatter paycheck.

Of course, there were other dollars involved, such as flight pay, sea duty pay, dependent benefits and other add-ons, but we all knew fairly accurately what everyone else in the Navy was earning. Of course, as with civilian income, pay differences could create the usual ambitions, envy and griping, but we in the service usually accepted the status quo.

However, the Navy pulled a disturbing glitch concerning pay that happened when I was what was called a Weekend Warrior. While in college, I was member of a Naval Reserve Air Group. We flew and did other duties once a month over a weekend, and earned the equivalent of four days’ pay. Additionally, we went on active duty full time for two weeks during summers. In my first years as a Reservists, we were handed our paychecks at the Naval Air Station at the end of each quarter.

Then, without previous warning, the Navy decided to mail the paychecks to our home addresses. The potentially disastrous result was that wives suddenly knew what their husbands were being paid, and for many, it was a very surprising amount. Some of the higher ranking pilots in our air group earned several thousand dollars per quarter in base pay, plus more for flight status. Add to that the two-weeks’ active duty money, and a Reserve officer’s annual Navy income could be formidable.

Earlier, when Reservists had picked up their paychecks on the base and cashed them before they went home, some had told their wives their pay was much lower. For instance, a lieutenant commander on flight status could be earning $15,000 a year as a part-time Navy officer, while continuing his full-time civilian career.

He may have told his wife his annual Navy pay was $5,000, and brought that smaller sum home. The problem wasn’t only the fibbing about the amount, but the sneaky plan also put suspicions in the wives’ minds about what the part-time Navy officer was doing with the money she hadn’t known about. They could only guess, and in too many cases, their guesses were absolutely right. There were girls, bars and more girls all within a couple of miles of the Naval Air Station.

That funny and sad Navy experience is just one example of how some of us practice the cultural taboo of keeping our incomes secret. After my Navy time, and for most of the next 25 years in corporate business, I managed a division of 40 people. I received their paychecks every Friday morning. In some divisions, the managers just lined everyone up and handed out the checks, with no care that the amounts on each were clearly visible to anyone who cared to look. However, I made sure to seal each check in an envelope before my employees got theirs.

I believed people had the option to decide whether or not to keep their incomes confidential. The first reason is simply they have the right to privacy and secrecy. The second is that when employees in the same shop or office are able to compare their paychecks with others, it can only cause jealousy and all other kinds of disruptions. The same applies in many other situations when nosy people demand to know what others are earning.

Of course, whatever the current culture is, I don’t recommend that family members abuse the practice to keep their incomes hidden from each other, as with the fibbing Navy Reservists. However, other than the Internal Revenue Service, all people have the right to answer anyone asking about how much money they’re making with: mind your own damned business.