Benjamin Franklin: The Expat on the $100 Bill
Long before “expat” became shorthand for a global professional, Benjamin Franklin understood something that remains true today: sometimes you have to leave home to help build what home can become.
There is a curious irony on the American $100 bill.
Benjamin Franklin never served as president of the United States. He was never a general. He never commanded an army or occupied the White House.
Yet his face appears on the highest-denomination Federal Reserve note commonly circulating in American life.
Perhaps that is fitting.
Because Franklin was something more unusual than a conventional American statesman. He was an inventor, publisher, entrepreneur, scientist, diplomat, civic organizer, writer, investor, and—by the standards of his century—an extraordinary global citizen.
He was, in many ways, an American expat.
And he spent some of his most consequential years away from America.
Before America Had a Country, Franklin Had a World
Born in Boston in 1706, Franklin left home as a teenager and eventually established himself in Philadelphia.
That alone made him something of a self-made migrant.
But Franklin’s ambitions extended far beyond the city where he built his fortune.
In 1757, he sailed for Britain as Pennsylvania’s agent, beginning what would become an extended period living in London. He returned to America in 1762, but later went back to Europe in a much more consequential role.
In 1776, as the American colonies moved toward independence, Franklin crossed the Atlantic again.
This time, he wasn’t simply traveling for business.
He was representing a country that did not yet fully exist.
Franklin became America’s leading diplomatic representative in France, where he spent nearly nine years.
Think about what that meant.
There was no telephone.
No internet.
No commercial aviation.
No modern banking system connecting continents in seconds.
An Atlantic crossing could take weeks. Letters could take months. Information moved at the speed of ships.
Yet Franklin operated across borders with extraordinary effectiveness.
He understood that America’s future depended not only on what happened on American soil, but on relationships, capital, commerce, technology, ideas, and political alliances abroad.
That sounds remarkably modern.
The Original Global Networker
Franklin arrived in France carrying something more valuable than a business card.
He carried a story.
He presented the American cause to European society and cultivated relationships among French intellectuals, aristocrats, merchants, scientists, and political leaders.
And Franklin understood the power of reputation.
He became famous in France.
His image appeared on portraits, prints, medallions, snuffboxes, and other objects. His fur hat and deliberately plain appearance helped create an image of the homespun American philosopher.
Franklin effectively became a brand.
But unlike the modern influencer economy, his influence wasn’t measured in followers.
It was measured in relationships.
He built credibility with people who could help change the trajectory of a young nation.
France ultimately became America’s critical ally during the Revolutionary War, providing military assistance, financing, supplies, and naval support.
Franklin played a central diplomatic role in securing and maintaining that relationship.
His time abroad demonstrated a principle that remains relevant for modern expatriates:
Living internationally isn’t simply about adapting to another country. It can be about connecting countries to one another.
An Expat With a Job to Do
Franklin’s life abroad also challenges the romanticized image of the expatriate.
He wasn’t in France merely for adventure.
He had a mission.
He negotiated.
He wrote.
He cultivated alliances.
He managed political relationships.
He represented American interests.
He dealt with money.
He navigated cultural differences.
He worked within a foreign political and social system while trying to advance the interests of the place he came from.
In other words, he was doing something many modern expatriates do every day.
He was living between worlds.
And that position gave him an unusual perspective.
Franklin could look at America from Europe—and Europe from America.
That distance mattered.
Sometimes leaving home gives you a clearer understanding of home.
The Scientist Who Crossed Borders
Franklin’s global identity wasn’t limited to diplomacy.
His intellectual life was international long before the phrase “global community” existed.
His experiments with electricity attracted attention throughout Europe. His scientific work was read and discussed internationally.
He corresponded with scientists and intellectuals across borders and participated in the growing international exchange of knowledge that helped define the Enlightenment.
Franklin’s famous experiments with electricity weren’t simply American achievements.
They were contributions to a global scientific conversation.
This is another important characteristic of the great expatriate:
You don’t merely take your talents abroad. You bring ideas back and forth.
Franklin was constantly importing and exporting knowledge.
He learned from Europe.
He shared American discoveries with Europe.
He observed institutions abroad.
He brought ideas home.
He connected people who otherwise might never have met.
In today’s language, Franklin wasn’t simply participating in a global economy.
He was participating in a global knowledge economy.
Living Abroad Changed America
Franklin’s years overseas also changed the way he understood society.
He encountered European cities, institutions, industries, universities, financial systems, political structures, and social customs.
He saw both their possibilities and their limitations.
And he brought those observations back into his American worldview.
This is one of the most underrated benefits of living abroad.
An expatriate becomes a comparative observer.
You begin noticing that the way your home country does something isn’t necessarily the only way to do it.
You see different approaches to education.
Healthcare.
Banking.
Business.
Government.
Architecture.
Transportation.
Family life.
Trade.
Culture.
And eventually you start asking a powerful question:
What could we bring home?
Franklin spent much of his life asking versions of that question.
The Expat Who Helped Build a Nation
Franklin returned to America in 1785 after his long diplomatic service in France.
By then, the United States was independent.
But the work wasn’t finished.
The country still needed institutions, trade relationships, political structures, and an international identity.
Franklin participated in the Constitutional Convention in 1787, becoming one of its most recognizable delegates.
He was already in his eighties.
His international experience gave him a perspective that few Americans possessed.
He had spent years looking at the emerging United States from the outside.
He understood that America’s success would depend not only on its internal political system but also on its place in the world.
That perspective became part of his legacy.
Why Franklin Belongs on the $100 Bill
There is another reason Franklin is an especially interesting person to find on American currency.
Money itself is international.
It crosses borders.
It connects economies.
It represents trust.
And Franklin understood money unusually well.
He was a printer and publisher. He understood commerce. He built businesses. He invested in civic institutions. He thought about trade and economic development.
He also understood something that modern entrepreneurs know intimately:
capital follows relationships, opportunity, and trust.
During the American Revolution, securing foreign financial and military support was essential.
Franklin’s diplomatic work helped connect the emerging American economy and political system with European power and capital.
The man eventually placed on the $100 bill was therefore not merely an American who happened to travel.
He was an American whose ability to operate internationally helped shape America’s future.
The First Generation of Global Americans
Today, millions of people live outside the country where they were born.
They are entrepreneurs.
Doctors.
Engineers.
Artists.
Investors.
Teachers.
Executives.
Students.
Parents.
Digital workers.
And increasingly, families with homes, careers, assets, and relationships spanning multiple countries.
The word expatriate can sometimes sound temporary—as though someone is merely passing through.
Franklin’s life suggests something more complicated.
Living abroad can become part of who you are.
It can change how you think.
It can expand your network.
It can change your ambitions.
And it can give you the ability to operate across cultures rather than inside only one.
Franklin never stopped being American.
But spending years abroad made him a different kind of American.
A globally minded one.
The Original “Expat Entrepreneur”
Franklin also represents another idea that feels remarkably contemporary: the entrepreneur as a connector.
He wasn’t confined to one profession.
He moved between publishing, science, civic institutions, commerce, diplomacy, and politics.
He created organizations.
He built networks.
He exchanged information.
He monetized knowledge.
He invested in communities.
And he used relationships to create things that were larger than himself.
That multidisciplinary approach looks surprisingly similar to the modern entrepreneurial ecosystem.
Franklin wasn’t building a startup in Silicon Valley.
He was building something much harder:
a new society.
And he did it partly by operating across borders.
What Franklin Can Teach Today’s Expat
Franklin’s story offers a lesson that goes beyond American history.
The expatriate experience can create a unique form of human capital.
You learn how to navigate unfamiliar systems.
You develop cultural fluency.
You build international relationships.
You become comfortable with uncertainty.
You discover new markets.
You encounter different ways of solving problems.
And perhaps most importantly, you learn to see your own country differently.
The greatest expatriates don’t simply leave home.
They create bridges between homes.
Franklin was one of them.
The Man Behind the Portrait
There is something almost amusing about seeing Franklin’s face on a $100 bill.
The portrait makes him look permanent.
Almost monumental.
But the real Franklin was constantly moving—between cities, countries, disciplines, ideas, and worlds.
He was born in Boston.
Built his career in Philadelphia.
Spent years in London.
Spent nearly a decade in France.
Negotiated with European powers.
Corresponded across continents.
Returned to America.
Helped shape a new nation.
And left behind a legacy that still travels around the world.
The $100 bill travels too.
Perhaps that is why Franklin is such a fitting figure for a global generation.
His face crosses borders every day.
His ideas crossed borders centuries ago.
And his life reminds us that being from somewhere does not mean you have to live your entire life in one place.
Sometimes the person who leaves home can become one of the people who helps define it.
Benjamin Franklin wasn’t just a Founding Father.
He was an early American global citizen.
And perhaps, in the language of the twenty-first century, he was one of America’s greatest expatriates.
The original expat on the $100 bill.
