The Bogumil Baranowski interview: “Treat everyone with care”
- Bogumil Baranowski grew up in communist Poland before moving to New York to work for a firm managing multigenerational family money.
- His professional experience taught him valuable lessons about the human side of wealth management over the long term.
- Among the concepts that have shaped Baranowski’s investment philosophy is the idea of “giving with warm hands.”
Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of getting to know Bogumil Baranowski.
Bogumil is, on paper, an investment advisor with nearly two decades of experience, the voice behind the Talking Billions podcast, and the author of several books on money, legacy, and living well. But titles don’t quite capture him. He’s part philosopher, part wealth whisperer — equal parts curiosity and calm.
In this Long Game conversation, we go deep — into childhood memories, Eastern European inflation, reluctant heirs, cold-hand inheritance, and how to build a life that actually feels rich.
Eric Markowitz: What drives your podcast and what have you learned from your guests about “the long game”?
Bogumil Baranowski: I think I’ve just always been curious about people. Even before I started my podcast, before I worked in investing, I was always asking people about their lives. When we travel, if we have a guide showing us a temple, I want to know: What’s your life like? Where did you learn English? How did you find this job? And they tell me a story. One guy told me he got his start at a fancy hotel, then went off on his own. It’s just my curious bone. I have to know.
The podcast is really just a space that gives me permission to go deeper. If you look at the episodes, about half are about investing — “tell me how you read a balance sheet” — and the other half are about how money interacts with us, how we interact with money. I just released an episode with Rochelle Khanna. She works with families and used to work with prisoners. She said the experience rhymes. Being in a literal prison and being in a psychological or emotional prison — it’s similar. Even if you leave the prison, the prison follows you. Or you might not even be in a prison, but you feel like you are. That opened my eyes.
Eric Markowitz: So you’re curious about the people behind the portfolios.
Bogumil Baranowski: Exactly. I want to understand what it would mean to grow wealth from $2 million to $10 million. What would that do for you and your family? Why does it matter? I’ve had people say, “I’ll give you a million to manage; it means nothing to me.” And I told them, “If it means nothing to you, why would it mean anything to me? I’m probably not the manager for you.”
What I notice is that the principles are often universal, but the way people arrive at them is shaped by their life experience. Usually it starts with a childhood story. That’s why I always kick off my interviews by asking about their early days. Some people are uncomfortable with that because they’re used to interviews that begin with, “I went to Harvard, then Goldman, now I run a fund.” But I can read that on your website. What I want to know is: why have you spent the last 35 years showing up every single day managing other people’s money?
And people tell me stories they’ve never told anyone. When they say, “Nobody has ever asked me that question that way,” that’s when we find their original “why.” That’s the moment. It helps me relate to them. It gives the audience a chance to get to know someone beyond their official resume. I want to know: Why do you care? Why do you keep showing up? Because it’s not about the money anymore.
Eric Markowitz: You like to ask questions that get to the story of how someone got to where they are. So let me turn it on you: what’s a story from your upbringing about your relationship with money and people?
Bogumil Baranowski: I grew up [in Poland] in a household with two doctors. My dad was really busy, and I’d go to the hospital and sit in his office. He’d pull out a typewriter and say, “Just hang out here.” I started writing little stories about kids from kindergarten. I didn’t write about toys or games. I wrote little profiles: who was funny, who was always late, who kept their clothes neatly folded. I was observing. Not judging — just observing.
Money, though — money was a peculiar phenomenon. In communist Poland, the stores were empty. Even if you had money, you couldn’t spend it. The dollar was seen as gold. In the ’50s, owning dollars was a crime. By the ’80s, it was technically illegal, but tolerated. We had government stores where you could spend dollars. So when I came to New York and pulled a dollar from my pocket, it was surreal. It felt like spending a gold bar.
Poland went through massive change when I was around ten. The economy opened up. Investments came in. The whole country changed. By that age, our habits are already formed. I grew up seeing money as something abstract. It changes definition. It shifts. Poland even changed its currency. They removed four zeros because inflation had gotten so bad they couldn’t fit the numbers on the bills.
I met families whose wealth went back hundreds of years. Some even dated back to the time Beethoven was writing his symphonies. I thought, “How did they do that? How did they survive all the turmoil?”
Even traveling around Europe pre-euro, I had a dozen currencies in my pocket. Germany, France, Sweden — they all had their own. I collected coins. Money fascinated me.
I remember this moment — I was in Vienna at a gas station with my dad. He filled up our tiny Fiat and said the amount of money he just spent on gas was equal to what he made in a month as a doctor in Poland. That stuck with me. It was a clear mispricing. That planted the seed for me to try to understand money. I started reading books about business in high school. I visited an old textile mill, and I was mesmerized. Why would someone build such a huge building to make things? Why was it abandoned? I learned about the family behind it — they funded schools, a theater. Their story stayed with me.
Then I discovered Peter Lynch’s One Up on Wall Street and eventually moved to New York. I got hired by a firm managing multigenerational family money. That’s when it all clicked: economy, money, business, legacy. I met families whose wealth went back hundreds of years. Some even dated back to the time Beethoven was writing his symphonies. I thought, “How did they do that? How did they survive all the turmoil?”
Eric Markowitz: And what do you see as the through line in those families?
Bogumil Baranowski: It’s never just one decision. It’s a collection of smart decisions over 80 or 100 years. Internally, families have to be intentional. Externally, they have to survive wars, inflation, confiscation. There has to be a framework. First, they need to invest the money productively. Many begin with one business, then diversify. They may hold stocks for 70, 80 years. That portfolio becomes the vehicle of continuity.
But then there’s the human side. You need to prepare each generation. And there’s no one-size-fits-all. Sometimes parents expect the son to take over, but it’s the daughter who steps up. Or someone grows into the role later. That reluctant leader often turns out to be the best one. And the handoff has to happen with intention.
There’s a moment when the wealth creator realizes: this money isn’t really mine anymore. It’s subtle but powerful.
Jay Hughes talks about giving with warm hands. That concept changed the way I think about it. Give while you’re still around. Include the next generation early. Make it personal.
Eric Markowitz: My uncle does that. He’s given me watches over the years. He always says he wants to give with warm hands. It’s a beautiful concept.
Bogumil Baranowski: It makes such a difference. I asked a room full of wealthy families, “When you tip at a restaurant, do you do it with warm hands?” The way you sign that receipt matters. People can tell. Imagine what that means for family wealth. If a kid finds out about their inheritance from a stranger reading a document in a lawyer’s office, it creates a cold, impersonal feeling. That’s not how you pass on values.
Eric Markowitz: Right. We assume wealth transfer is like handing off a baton. But it should be a slow and loving process.
Bogumil Baranowski: Yes. And there’s a moment when the wealth creator realizes: this money isn’t really mine anymore. It’s subtle but powerful. Once that happens, they start asking better questions: “When I’m not around, how do we ensure continuity?” And that’s when you can begin to build something lasting.
Eric Markowitz: And what about your own family?
Bogumil Baranowski: My wife and I don’t have kids yet, but we have nieces and nephews. We talk about these things. When they visit, I ask questions about how they think about money. I want them to be prepared if anything ever comes their way.
Honestly, it’s like investing. Sometimes it’s easier to define what you don’t want. In investing, I avoid leverage, questionable management, declining industries. Same with families. You don’t want a scenario where someone learns about a trust from a lawyer they’ve never met. That creates distance, mistrust.
Eric Markowitz: I love how you think about relationships. It’s not transactional. And I think that’s the real lesson — capitalism doesn’t have to be extractive. It can be generative. Your whole philosophy reminds me of that Fred Rogers quote: “Be kind. Be kind. Be kind.”
Bogumil Baranowski: That’s the spirit. Whether it’s a taxi driver or an investor, treat everyone with care. Introduce them to someone, send them a client, ask how their day was. That builds trust, which compounds. And when the time comes, those relationships are what matter most.
Eric Markowitz: That’s the long game. Thank you, Bogumil.
