The wealthy Chinese parents sending their scions to special classes for the kids of rich business owners might want to reconsider whether the returns on this investment will please them.

There are 10 of these courses offered in China, including two in Beijing at Peking and Tsinghua universities. No doubt the sheen of respectability these two prestigious schools lend to the courses makes them very attractive.

However, there's no guarantee that spending 40,000 to 668,000 yuan on these courses will help turn anyone's offspring into accomplished business executives, or instill enthusiasm for the family enterprises.

In fact, it's surprising that supposedly experienced business people can be convinced of the value of this so-called education.

It has the hallmarks of a product, not an education.

The entrepreneurs selling the alleged benefits of these expensive courses have succeeded in creating a "need" for them through the classic marketing ploy of manipulating insecurity.

Under the guise of offering advantages, suggestions of dire consequences for failing to buy get whispered into unwary ears: "You don't want your child to fail. Your business might suffer after you're gone. Your rivals probably all are exploiting this opportunity. Good parents do everything they can for their child. Don't be the only one left out!"

Elder entrepreneurs, ask yourselves: Did costly courses on Confucianism and Mao Zedong's military thinking make you successful? Did a lack of expensive instruction about venture capital or wilderness survival training prevent you from being successful?

In addition, reflect upon the fact that all the information offered in these courses is already available in many places, for much less money.

It may be that newly wealthy Chinese are more susceptible to this type of blarney because it hasn't been pitched here previously.

Until recently, there just weren't that many rich people in China. In developed countries, however, the market for wealth-enhancement programs is well developed. It ranges from implausible get-rich-quick schemes advertised on match-book covers ("Make up to $5,000 a month at home!") to slickly packaged materials brimming with reassuring testimonials by happily enriched customers.

In this market, Robert Kiyosaki occupies a special niche, and exemplifies how the wealth-advice business can make people rich.

Kiyosaki, an American of Japanese descent, wrote a best-selling book called Rich Dad, Poor Dad. He compared and contrasted the lessons he learned from the two father figures in his life. One, his real father, was a hard-working, poorly paid government worker. The other was the wealthy father of a friend.

The poor dad would say things like, "I work hard for my money." The rich Dad would say, "My money works hard for me." By age 9, wrote Kiyosaki, he had decided to pay strict attention to whatever rich Dad said.

His best-selling book was only the start of a financial advice empire that includes books, DVDs, workshops, websites and even a board game for youngsters called Cash Flow. One of his websites lists Donald Trump as a partner in his efforts.

The people most likely to get rich from get-rich advice are those selling the advice. It's always cloaked, of course, in language of higher purpose than merely coarse money-grubbing. Kiyosaki, for example, writes on one of his websites, "My mission on this earth is to elevate the financial well-being of humanity."

A final warning, rich parents. Type the words "Rich Dad Poor Dad scam" into your search engine's browser. A lot of people raise questions about the value of Kiyosaki's advice.

I don't know who's right. But if I had 40,000 to 668,000 yuan to invest in my child's future, I'd buy US Treasury bills. They're not trendy. But they have a long track record of success and a guaranteed return - a good lesson to learn.