The pursuit of riches at any cost is killing young black men

Black teenagers are being corrupted by the ideology that sparked the recession: an emphasis on money, regardless of the price

I was discussing life choices with a teenager in south London recently. "Get the money and then worry about what people say," he said. "It doesn't matter how you do it. Once you get enough money, they can't touch you." As I listened, I thought how much so many underprivileged black boys have in common with disgraced banker Fred Goodwin. It is not that disaffected young men have been ignoring society's advice as to how to achieve success. The problem is that, in their way, they have been following it assiduously.

In December, I was appointed as one of the national role models for Reach. This is a government-supported scheme aimed at raising the aspirations and attainment of black boys and young men. As the programme moves into its first summer, we are confronted by a difficult issue highlighted in a new report: "Black role models: which messages work?" It is based on research from the University of Kent and reveals that role models who emphasise their material success are more inspirational to young black men. Importantly, they were more likely to be emulated than those role models who focused on moral and social respect. So the report recommended that: "Role models could include concrete material achievements in their discussions with black boys and black young men as a way of reinforcing the 'value' of the role models." But is focusing on material gain part of the solution or the problem?

We had already noticed this phenomenon. The 20 Reach national role models are volunteers, chosen from hundreds of applicants to represent ordinary, accessible success – a fireman, a teacher, an accountant. So it was alarming when we realised that no matter how carefully we crafted our accounts about the importance of education or "giving back to our community", one topic always seemed to arouse the most interest among our young audiences: money. They were not alone. "We had another lawyer speak once to my Year 10 boys," a teacher told me. "They all thought it was boring until they saw his car and he told them how much he earned. After that, they loved it."

Initially, I rejected this way of appealing to boys, as a matter of principle. Perhaps romantically, I had always believed that the male role models who had influenced my life – friends, relatives, my father and my uncle, even historical figures – had not inspired me because of money. It was their principles: their love of family and community; and their dedication to worthy causes that captured my imagination and framed my ambition. But my objection goes beyond principle. Now, more than ever, it is important to challenge the prevailing orthodoxy that success and self-worth are defined purely by money, not play into it.

It is something that the black community has been grappling with for some time. One of the biggest-selling albums of the last decade was by US rapper 50 Cent. Its title, Get Rich or Die Tryin', speaks for itself. David Lammy MP, the minister for higher education, who was brought up by a single parent in inner London, suggests it reflects a deep-rooted problem: "Get rich or die trying is a language of fast cars and faster lives, a language that replaces the social values that once knitted communities together with a destructive law of the jungle, in which honour codes create the justification for pointless spirals of killing and revenge."

In tackling this problem, you must not only address the actions of those chasing the money, but also the mindset that drives them. A role model who diverts someone from becoming a ruthless, money-oriented drug dealer has done well. But unless the underlying values towards money are challenged, the person may simply become an equally ruthless banker or mortgage broker. That is why role models who use material success as the means for gaining young people's attention are taking a real risk. Difficult as it may seem to be, our goal must be to find other ways to excite and capture their interest.

This challenge is not unique to the black community. Society as a whole is having to come to terms with this form of money-obsessed materialism. My work as a barrister frequently involves dealing with people accused of terrorist offences, so it is ironic that the most pervasive, pernicious and destructive "extremist ideology", which I am confronting on a daily basis, is nothing to do with that. Rather, it is this extreme materialism, which prizes money and profit above all else, that exacts the highest social cost. "Get rich or die trying" merely articulates a much larger sociopathy. It is a form of the same behaviour that brought our economy to the brink of collapse last year and has cost us hundreds of billions of pounds. We must combat it together.

Second, in trying to find the right way to challenge this attitude, we should not lazily return to cliche. Hackneyed, idealistic accounts of morality and principle are not the answer. I have seen the young eyes glaze over, or the texting start, as you talk about working hard and "giving back". Most young people are not interested in a lecture on morality and austerity from an older person in a much more comfortable position than them. They want to know how they can live a similarly comfortable life.

So how do you combine an approach that is both positive and effective? Perhaps the key lies in the University of Kent's finding that what black boys and young men valued most from role models was realistic advice and practical guidance. That, more than anything, influenced their aspirations.

The best role models, it seems, are those who can impart practical life skills and give meaningful answers to real problems. I've watched Richard Reid, the firefighter, explain the fulfilment he gets from helping people. He is respected and admired for it. But it is his ability to answer the practical questions – the concrete ways the young men can weave what he has told them into their own lives – that truly engages them. "How long is the training?" "Does it matter if you have convictions?" Guidance on earning a living is one aspect of those important life skills, but it is not everything. Just like the testosterone-driven City trader, the gang member often overlooks life's most important aspects. Finding a way to cope with failure is at least as important as planning for great success. Similarly, coping with the difficulties of everyday life is more valuable for most of us than affording a big car. That is why role models like us are no substitute for the fathers, brothers, neighbours and teachers who can be daily mentors. But even in their absence, it is coherent practical advice that young men crave.

Which brings us back to the connection between the teenagers I encounter and the likes of Fred Goodwin. Wider society, government included, has frequently championed the sort of role models whose ruthless pursuit of money at any social cost has set a dysfunctional template. It is an extreme ideology that spills from the City's boardrooms to south London's housing estates. That teenager will always believe that the pursuit of money is the key to happiness, if society constantly reaffirms that to be the case.

The emphasis on material success has a limited value. What the other role models and I try to convey to young people is the importance of finding their own way to attain happiness and fulfilment while living straight- forward, ordinary lives. That is, after all, what most of us are still struggling to achieve.

Matthew Ryder is a barrister with Matrix Chambers