I’m Teaching My Kids to Gamble

Hi Scott, 

Have you ever been to one of those arcades for kids where you tap your card, play giant-sized games and then get points in exchange for a very ordinary plastic prize at the end? They are outrageously popular. But, with the loud music, flashing lights and constant ‘ka-ching’ noise, I feel like they are just glamorised pokie machines for kids. I’m not going to lie, though, we’ve been and it’s fun!

Jessica

Hi Jessica,

I have four children so, yes, I have been to Crimezone many times.

Years ago their arcades were a drawcard, but in this era of Fortnite and World of Warcraft they’re the gaming equivalent of a flip phone.

Now you’re spot on — it’s basically a casino for kids now. 

But, instead of stumbling out broke with a hangover, parents walk out broke with a plastic whistle and a kid bouncing off the walls on a sugar high. That’s because the games look and sound — and have terrible odds — just like the pokie machines. 

And in that way they are not only teaching kids how to gamble — just like a casino, they’re coating it in a veneer of fun. But losing money isn’t fun. And that’s why the last time we went we bypassed slap trap alley and instead played ten-pin bowling, with the guard rails up!

(Timezone executives: please send your correspondence to complaints@getinline.com)

Scott

Romantic Comedy Gone Wrong

Dear Scott,

A financial advisory group keeps hounding me with promises of paying off my mortgage faster, using my tax, and retiring early. I’ve hung up on them multiple times, but I finally caved and booked a meeting. Is there any merit in what they’re selling, or is this just another costly sales pitch in disguise?

Sally

Sally,

Pull your bloody head in.

This ain’t a romantic comedy: ‘girl plays hard to get at the start, but eventually gives in, and they live happily ever after’. No, this is more like a horror movie. The guy on the other end of the line is a salesman, and he absolutely has a plan to pay off the mortgage quicker … but it’s his mortgage, not yours. That’s because he’s selling a complex, fee-heavy investment scheme that will make him a lot of money.

Do you want the fastest, safest way to pay off your mortgage?

Make extra repayments.

I know, not sexy. No one’s cold-calling to sell you that advice (except maybe a guy with no shoes). But you know what else isn’t sexy? Getting fleeced by a ‘wealth-building strategy’ that drains your actual wealth. 

So please cancel the meeting. You don’t need a sales pitch — you need a plan. So go to the library and get a copy of my book, and the next time he calls ask him to send you a photo of his bare feet.

Scott

Is AI a Giant Con?

Hey Scott,

I read an article by a leading researcher named Ed Zitron who debunks the hype around AI. He points out that, while companies like OpenAI claim their technology is revolutionary, they’re burning billions in losses. Even the mammoth Microsoft has poured in $13 billion and is still not seeing real profitability. Despite all the buzz, AI still struggles with accuracy, and most businesses aren’t making money from it. Zitron argues that AI’s biggest success so far is convincing investors it’s the future — while users are realising it’s often unreliable and expensive. So, is AI really the game-changing gold rush we’ve been told it is, or is it just another overhyped tech bubble waiting to burst? Should we be more skeptical about its long-term potential?

Daniel

Amen, brother!

AI is so overhyped it’s making the crypto bros blush.

Still, that’s just how the tech world works — every few years, it falls madly in love with the Next Big Thing, only to ghost it when a shinier obsession comes along.

Remember when 5G was going to change everything? Medicine, smart cities, your morning coffee — nothing was safe from the revolution. At Apple’s 2020 iPhone 12 launch, they dropped the word ‘5G’ sixty times in one presentation!

And now?

No one gives a G.

The people making serious money in AI right now are companies like Nvidia (selling computer chips), cloud computing giants, and consultants convincing companies they ‘need’ AI even if it doesn’t do much for them. 

Now, don’t get me wrong — AI is a fundamental technological shift. 

Yet here’s the reality:

ChatGPT has been around for less than two years. That’s toddler-aged technology. Impressive at times, sure, but it’s still eating glue and struggling with basic tasks.

The real breakthroughs? 

They’re probably 20 years away — when AI grows up, stops making stuff up and actually gets context, and businesses figure out how to turn it into real profit.

Yet that won’t stop Wall Street from pumping the bubble today.

Exhibit A: At the recent iPhone 16 launch, Apple couldn’t stop saying ‘Apple Intelligence’ — about as often as they dropped ‘5G’ four years ago. Just don’t ask Siri to set two timers at once. She’ll short-circuit like a 2001 Dell running 37 Chrome tabs.

Scott

My thoughts on the election

In the holidays, I spent $60 in fuel and tolls driving my thirsty ute across Melbourne … 

… to save $30 on a camping dunny. 

True story. 

That’s right, I literally burned more fuel than I saved … to buy a glorified bucket with a lid. (It’s for a camping trip – hey, we’ve four kids that aren’t strong enough to use a shovel.)

Yet I also scored four uninterrupted hours in the car with my 11-year-old son – a day of good chats and dodgy servo snacks. 

Priceless! 

As we drove out the farm gate, we passed what used to be golden paddocks where sheep would graze and old blokes would give you a dusty nod from the top of their tractors. 

Now? 

Sardine tins. Sold at caviar prices. 

The northern fringe of Melbourne — where we live — is growing faster than my inbox after a long weekend. But the roads? Still the same goat tracks, just with more SUVs and road rage. 

As we hit peak-hour gridlock, my son let out a theatrical sigh.

“Perfect,” I said. “More time to read election billboards.”

We passed Clive Palmer glaring down at us blowing his own trumpet.

“Is that our version of Donald Trump?” my son asked.

“Sort of. If Trump was raised on talkback radio and meat pies.”

As we snaked our way down the highway we passed billboards of ‘dead-eyes’ Dutton, and ‘tiptoe’ Albo. Seriously, these two have all the charisma of suburban accountants debating depreciation schedules. 

“All the billboards mention the cost of living”, remarked my son.

Spot on, mate.

And the biggest cost? The roof over our heads — rent or mortgage. That’s where the squeeze is. 

Australian homes are now some of the least affordable on Earth. And to afford them we’ve racked up world-class debt. Back in the mid-2000s, the average house cost four times the average income. Now it’s more than eight.

It’s clear that we’ve priced ordinary Australians out of their own neighbourhoods.

So what are the bold economic plans we’ll be voting for in the election?

Well, Labor wants to slash deposits to 5 per cent. Which is as dumb as it is dangerous. Remember, the US subprime crisis was created by politicians making it easier for broke people to buy homes. 

Not to be outdone, Dutton, the so-called economic conservative, is promising to allow first home buyers to raid their super and write off their mortgage interest. 

It’s madness. 

Both policies are like turning up at an auction and handing everyone a suitcase full of cash. It doesn’t make homes cheaper. It just lets buyers bid higher — and history shows they always do.

And the result?

It drives house prices higher. It drives rents higher. 

It seems like both sides have designed their housing policies to fit on a highway billboard: 

Big font. Feel-good slogan. Eye-roll logic. Paid for with borrowed money. 

And in doing so they’ve turned the great Australian dream into a financial trap. (Welcome, postcode povvos!)

After a long day of driving we got the portaloo and made it back home. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that our national housing plan was cooked up in the same aisle as the dunny bucket: cheap, flimsy, and bound to leak. 

Tread Your Own Path!

Our First Marital Spat

Hey Barefoot!

My husband and I have had our first marital spat. Ironically, over whether to insure my engagement ring. He knows that I’m pretty hopeless with my belongings, but now after four years of not losing it I've made a case to reallocate the $550 annual insurance fee elsewhere. Please mediate and help us decide whether to insure or not to insure!

Sarah

Hi Sarah

You’re insuring a ring for $550 a year?  

It must have so many carrots the Easter Bunny has put it on his wish list.

Now I’m sure you understand this, but you’re fighting about something that is purely emotional. It’s not logical to wear the price of a second-hand HiLux on your finger ... but hey, no judgement.  

Welcome to marriage!

Most home and contents insurance policies already cover your ring – but only up to a certain amount, often just $1,000. If your rock’s worth more (say, $10,000), you’ll need to specify it on your policy and cough up for the higher premium. That means getting a valuation certificate and jumping through a few hoops. It sounds like that’s what you’ve done.

Now, let’s get practical.  

If you rarely take the ring off, and don’t live in Purf, there’s a very good chance you’ll never lose it.

However, let’s look at the worst case scenario and you do lose it.

You’ll feel terrible. Your husband will be angry (and he’ll very likely use it as ‘exhibit A’ in any future fights you have).

Will you rush out and buy the exact same ring? 

Maybe. 

Will replacing it make you feel better? 

I don’t think so. That’s a sunk cost – both financial and emotional.

My advice? 

Save the insurance money. Instead, each year spend that money on booking a cheeky Airbnb, share a bottle of red, and toast to a lab-grown diamond if the worst happens. Cheaper, shinier, and no ethical guilt. And remember: the size of the rock has nothing to do with the strength of your marriage. (But correctly stacking the dishwasher? That’s another story.)

Scott

The Dim Sim of Australian Politics

Hi Scott,

I’m 32, a teacher, and renting with my boyfriend (also a teacher). We’re working hard and saving where we can, but the idea of owning a home in Melbourne still feels out of reach. We don’t have rich parents or guarantors – my mum also rents, and my partner’s parents are still paying off their home. I was doomscrolling property news (as you do) and saw an article quoting a speech by Opposition Housing Minister Michael Sukkar and the Liberals’ plans to ease lending rules to help buyers without the Bank of Mum and Dad. You’re the only finance person I actually trust – does this mean anything for people like us, or is it just pre-election noise?

Penny

Hi Penny,

Michael Sukkar is the Dim Sim of Australian politics – hot on the outside, cold in the middle – and his ideologically driven policies are a weird mix of soggy cabbage and mystery meat that will make you chunder. 

Here’s the soy sauce:

When you apply for a home loan, the bank checks if you can afford it even if interest rates go up.

Right now, the government regulator makes them add 3% to the current rate – just to be safe. 

So if the rate is 6% they test whether you could still make repayments at 9%.

It’s called a ‘stress test’ – and it’s there to stop people getting in over their heads if (or, let’s be honest, when) rates rise. And, as a financial counsellor, I think it’s a thoroughly sensible policy that keeps the screws on bankers.

Dim Sim disagrees.

He argues that by lowering the buffer first home buyers would be able to borrow more. Which is true.

But let’s think about it for, say, six seconds:

Lowering the buffer would mean everyone could borrow more – so they would – and all that would do is drive up housing prices even further. 

Sukkar’s plan is like eyeing off the last rubbery dim sim that’s been sitting in the servo steamer since last Sunday. Penny, I know you’re hungry, but if you swallow what Sukkar is selling, well, just make sure you have a hazmat suit handy, a toilet roll in the freezer, and a plumber on standby.

(For the record, I have been equally unimpressed by Labor’s ‘Help to Buy’ first home owners scheme.)

Scott

What I’m doing with my money

It’s 5am. 

I’m at the farm, sitting here at the kitchen table, staring at my screen …  and watching the US stock market get absolutely hammered. It has plummeted close to 5% since I went to bed last night, in response to Trump’s ‘Liberation Day’ tariffs.

Journalists and media pundits absolutely live for days like this. There are so many ‘bloodbath’ headlines. So much clickbait casserole. So much ‘breaking news’. 

And every article is saying pretty much the same thing: Trump’s tariff plan is stupid. That it will plunge the US economy into a deep recession. That it will have devastating impacts around the world.

Scared yet?

Look, it makes total sense that you may be thinking to yourself:

“This is a really uncertain time to be investing. None of this sounds good. Maybe I should just sell my shares and move my super to cash until this clears up.”

Well, let’s talk about that.

I have a coffee in my hand. The kids are still asleep. It’s just you and me. Today I’m going to tell you what I plan on doing with my own money. But, before I do, let me give you my take on the Trump tariffs.

First, this is not meant to be sound (or sane) economic policy – it’s a negotiating strategy. Trump views the world in terms of winning and losing, and he wants every country on earth to lose, so that he (and America … but mostly he) wins.

Second, and even more importantly, he’s just told every American that the global system is rigged, and that America is being unfairly treated. 

Now, I don’t think that’s true. In fact, since World War II, free trade has lifted more people out of poverty than at any other time in history. Yet facts don’t matter. 

Besides, this line of argument gives Trump someone to blame when the economy tanks: he had the guts to stand up to the global bullies – it’s their fault, not his.

Third — and let’s be honest, most predictably — he’s keeping the world’s attention glued to him like a toddler with a tambourine.

So, back to you.

You’ll hear people say that now is a very ‘uncertain time’ to be an investor.

Yeah, nah.

The truth is that it is always an uncertain time to risk your money. If you think it’s safe, you’re simply not paying attention. However, what history teaches us is this: the price you pay for earning long-term life changing compound gains is having to stomach short-term uncertainty.

And here’s the thing about trying to protect yourself in the share market: you don’t just have to be right once – you have to be right twice. First, you’ve got to guess when the market will fall further. Then you’ve got to guess the exact moment to jump back in. And spoiler alert: no one rings a bell when it’s safe to invest again. (Just ask the people still waiting to buy back in after the Covid crash.)

So what should you do instead?

Simple. My advice hasn’t changed since I wrote The Barefoot Investor.

If you’ve got a home loan, focus on boosting your super contributions to 15% and pay off your mortgage like your future depends on it – because it does. That’s the plan. Boring? Maybe. But it works.

Then, in the final three years before you retire – whatever age that is for you – consider getting your super fund to invest your future employer contributions in cash. The goal is to build up a buffer of three to five years’ worth of living expenses (after any pension payments you may receive), so when the market drops you don’t have to stress or sell. You’ve got time on your side.

As for me? I’ve paid off the home loan. So every month – rain, hail, or full-blown Trump tantrum – I throw money into three low-cost index funds. The louder the noise, the cheaper the shares.

Tread Your Own Path!

Slim Dusty and the Nine-Year-Old

Dear Scott,

My name is Imogen. I’m nine years old and live in Melbourne. I was camping with my country cousins at Christmas when my uncle made me a deal: he’d give me $50 if I could learn and recite one of his favourite Slim Dusty songs.

It’s a poem by Henry Lawson called ‘Peter Anderson & Co’. I had to recite it by heart by 10 January 2025. It was tricky at first, but I got there – and I won the $50! (I gave my little sister $10 because she helped me.) My uncle said I should invest the rest. Scott, do you have any ideas for what company I could own a share in? I love animals! Please could you write back with some ideas? My mum  reads your column – maybe you could put your suggestions in there? Also, I’ve read Barefoot Kids – it’s the best!

Imogen

Hey Imogen,

I’d never heard of the song, so I looked up the lyrics. They went for three pages (!), with lines like:

See if you can raise a drink, old man, I’m feelin’ mighty bad

Hot and sweetened, nip o’ butter, squeeze o’ lemon, Pete, he sighed.

That’s just weird!

Yet good on you for memorising it – you certainly earned your pineapple.

So here’s what I think you should do with your forty bucks.

First, given your love of animals, I think you should donate $10 to a local animal shelter or the RSPCA. Even $10 can help buy two warm blankets for a puppy, cover food for a cat for nearly a week, or pay for a microchip that helps a lost pet find its way home.

Second, ask your parents (or your uncle) to help you google “kids’ investing apps”. Plenty of them let you start with just a few bucks, so you can use your other $30 to invest in Aussie shares. That’s right: you’ll own a slice of a real company – like Woolies, Coles and the banks.

Pretty grown-up stuff.

And you know what’s cool about that?

You’re memorising this stuff when you’re nine – most people don’t hear the tune until they’re 59. You are going to be so wealthy. I can feel it.

Finally, your uncle sounds like a fun guy. Why not challenge him back? If he can memorise Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake It Off’, tell him you’ll give him $1!

Scott

Cup of Coffee Tax Cut?

Hi Scott,

I’m a mum of two toddlers and watched the Budget hoping for something meaningful. The tax cuts are fine, but $5 a week won’t stretch far with the way groceries and rent are going. The Treasurer says we’ve turned a corner economically – is that really the case, or just pre-election spin? I’m trying to make good decisions for our family, but it’s hard to know what to believe. Would love your take.

Narelle

Hi Narelle,

There was nothing meaningful in the Budget.

The main takeaway?

Don’t look to the government for help – they’ve got enough problems of their own.

Yet, as you’re a mum of two toddlers, let’s talk about your occupational drug of choice:

Coffee.

I’m writing this in a café, newspapers spread out, reading headlines like:

“Labor’s ‘top-up’ tax cut is enough for a coffee – and a brazen pitch for votes.”

Bulldust!

I just paid $6 for a macchiato.

(Yes, my coffee order sounds very … Melbourne. But my doctor says I need to ease off the cappuccinos – something about my belly turning into a buddha.)

Six bucks for a watery espresso with a tablespoon of froth!

So, no, the tax cut’s not even covering your caffeine. And I doubt voters will give a frappuccino about it either – especially with the average price of a coffee tipped to hit $7 within six months.

Why?

Three reasons:

Wholesale bean prices have doubled in the past year.

Café rents and power bills are skyrocketing.

And high staff costs. Sunday rates mean your man-bun barista is on $39/hour (and even then the poor bloke still can’t afford his rent!).

And that’s why it’s been a brutal year for your local café, Narelle.

Higher prices mean more people will bring it from home, grab a servo brew … or skip it altogether.

And that is why nearly one in 11 hospitality businesses have shut shop in the last 12 months.

So, Narelle, has the economy turned the corner?

Not if the price of coffee is anything to go by. It’s a frothy little sign that things are still running hot!

Scott.

The one thing I won’t tell my son

My 11-year-old son was in his jim jams reading Harry Potter.

“Get out of bed – I want you to watch the Budget with me”, I urged.

“What’s the Budget?” he said with a yawn.

“Hurry up, it’s starting now on Channel 2.”

“What’s Channel 2?” he asked innocently.

Kids these days.

Now, even though he’s still in primary school, I figured he’d be a good proxy for what the average Aussie thinks. (Then again, this week his school had ‘Maths Day’ and to celebrate he took it upon himself to cut his chicken sanga in the shape of pi, so maybe not.) 
 
Anyway, with a few clicks he managed to find ABC streaming.

“Parliament House is like Hogwarts … just without the magic”, I joked.

To his credit he dutifully watched the young wizard (Jim Chalmers) try and cast his spell over voters. When it was finally over and all the politicians were celebrating and slapping each other on the back, I switched off the TV and asked him what he thought.

“Well, he didn’t talk much about climate change and sustainability. And there also wasn’t much about artificial intelligence or robotics. I mean, clearly that’s the future”, he said.

Yes it is.

AI and humanoid robots are going to reshape the world more than the iPhone did. Climate change is going to punch a hole through the economy and the planet. And my son is going to live through the upheaval. This will be his reality.

Yet you wouldn’t know it listening to Jim on Tuesday night.

He did the same old Ctrl-C, Ctrl-V trick that every Treasurer has been doing for decades:

Tax more.

Spend even more.

Cross your fingers and hope China keeps buying rocks.

Jim told us he’s thinking about the future – but what he really means is the next four weeks (leading to the election), not the next forty years.

Still, I was curious to find out if my little maths man had picked up on the numbers that Jimbo spat out.

“Did you catch how much the government debt is, mate?” 

“Was it a billion?” he guessed.

“Ah, no. It’s set to hit $1 trillion dollars next year”, I said.

Silence.

“How many zeros are there in a trillion Dad?”

I actually wasn’t sure, so I got out my iPhone and asked ChatGPT.

“There are 12. Another way of thinking about it is that it’s one million million dollars”, I said.

“And do they have a plan on how they’re going to pay that money back?” he asked.

“Actually, no. In fact, they’re planning on adding to the debt over the next 10 years”, I said.

“Wow”, he said, in a way only an 11-year-old could. 

And with that my little Harry Potter went off to bed. 

Now it was a school night and I didn’t want to give him nightmares, so I avoided telling him the truth:

It’s highly likely he’ll spend the rest of his life paying off this debt.

Tread Your Own Path!

How Low Can My Shares Go?

Hi Scott,

I stupidly put $9,000 into shares before Trump, when prices were high, but now they’ve gone backwards! Yikes! I haven’t sold them (yet), but I’m just wondering how low can they go? Obviously these tariffs and trade wars are biting, but will it end? And how can we tell when the lowest point is reached? And will it ever recover?

Helen

Hi Helen, How low can your shares go? Well, my back-of-the-envelope calculations say that you’re down about … $700. Boo. Bloody. Hoo. Helen.

Seriously, if you’ve going to invest, you should be prepared for your shares to (temporarily) be cut in half. 

It’s happened before! 

Yet here’s the key: the market has always bounced back, and then gone higher. And that is why we invest: it’s because the share market really is the greatest wealth-building tool in history … but only if you allow your money to keep compounding.  So, here’s your three-step survival guide:

First, only invest in index funds with money you don’t need for at least five years.

Second, have enough Mojo – cash in a savings account – so you can sleep at night and not panic sell.

Finally, be like me – only check your shares once or twice a year. You’ll be much happier and wealthier for it.

Scott

Should I Marry a Kind Loser?

Scott,

I have my own company that’s worth a bit of money, and I own my own home and car. I earn $250,000 a year. However, I’ve been dating a guy for about two years who doesn’t have anything. He earns the minimum wage, can’t save, and is consistently struggling. Everyone I know keeps telling me to leave him. Yet he is the kindest soul and my best friend – he’s had a really rough upbringing and just keeps hitting bad luck. Still, I’m scared he is going to live off my back the rest of my life. I’m 30 now, and I want to get married. But should money be the deciding factor in this relationship?

Mary

Hi Mary

Let me be clear: I’m a finance guy, not a relationship coach.

To me, dating is like shopping at IKEA: everything looks cute and stylish under those soft Scandinavian lights. You stroll through the aisles, picturing how perfect it’ll be in your home.

Marriage is like dragging the flatpack home, realising the instructions make no sense, and discovering – halfway through assembly – that you’re missing three screws and the whole thing is lopsided.

Right now, your guy is that wobbly, half-built Billy bookcase – no savings, no financial stability, and no clear plan. Maybe he can pull himself together. Yet you’re not his Allen key, Mary. 

If he truly loves you, he’ll prove it. Hand him The Barefoot Investor and give him three months to get a better job, start saving, and show he’s serious about building a future with you. What if he can’t?

Well, you know what to do with wonky furniture that won’t stand up on its own – dump it on the nature strip and move on.

Scott

My fight with the government

The teenager stood in front of me, holding my burrito, shaking her head.

“We don’t accept cash – use your card”, she instructed, in the same tone that I use when my parents ask whether it’s ‘safe’ to download the latest update on their phone.

“But I don’t have a card!” I pleaded with the fast-food worker.

She scanned my face, looking for clues, for a good 10 seconds. 

I wanted to tell her that I was doing an experiment of using only cash for a week, and that I was in fact a successful financial expert. And also that I was really hungry. But I didn’t do any of those things. I just stood there like an idiot.

“Can you call someone?” she said, her expression changing from annoyance to pity.

“I don’t have a phone on me. And even if I did … my wife wouldn’t help”, I whined.

No burrito for Barefoot!

Look, this week has been a pain in the rump. 

As in literally: I’ve had a huge bulge in my pockets from lugging like a kilo of coins. 

“Why are you jingling like Captain Feathersword, Daddy?” asked my four-year-old one evening.

Argh, me harties!

Yet, as I went to bed that night, all that jingling got me thinking: 

How much does it cost to create our cumbersome coins?

So the next morning I called up the Royal Australian Mint. 

And that’s where things got really … minty. 

After days of getting ghosted multiple times, I finally got on to an executive from the Mint.

“Your request is currently with the privacy department … because it’s commercial in confidence”, she said patronisingly.

“Commercial in confidence? Who the hell are you competing with, the Vietnamese dong?!” I joked.

She did not laugh.

Look, I get why they don’t want people asking pesky questions about the cost of coins. After all, the Mint is basically the Blockbuster Video of the Australian Government. According to the Reserve Bank, in the 12 years to 2022, cash transactions plummeted from over 60% to just 13% (and that’s the dude in the singlet in front of you at the Aldi checkout).

The result is that not only is the Mint producing way fewer notes and coins, it’s flowed on to their bag boys, Armaguard, who are broke. (The company is now acting like a homeless dude begging for money outside of Woolies. Got some change, bro?)

“You are not the first journalist to ring up and ask for this information. They call up every week. We don’t give it out”, said the Mint executive dismissively.

So that was that.

Except this Blockbuster bureaucrat didn’t know she was up against Capt’n Feathersword! 

So I immediately called up the Minister responsible for the Mint, Andrew Leigh.

“How much does it cost to create our coins?” I asked the Minister’s office.

“If the Mint won’t tell you, we can’t tell you. What the Mint says is gospel”, the Government spinner said dismissively.

I took a deep breath and said calmly:

“No, your Minister is God and he writes the gospel. And I think taxpayers have a right to know how much our coins are costing us.”

She took a deep breath and snapped:

“What was your name again? Is this for a podcast? How many followers do you have?” 

“I’m the Barefoot Investor. Look me up.”

The next day I got a very friendly, and apologetic, text from her boss (MP Andrew Leigh):

“Scott, I’m sorry the Mint wasn’t able to get you the figures you were after. As you’d appreciate, the Mint makes the call themselves on issues like disclosing costs.”

Actually, Minister, I don’t ‘appreciate’ highly paid bureaucrats deciding they’re too important to answer to the people who pay their salaries. This ain’t North Korea. Yet.

So, in the words of that old slapper Will Smith, I think it’s high time I get ‘jiggy with it’ and tell you what I really think:

Not only am I a huge fan of cash, I actually believe it is worth the cost to taxpayers to keep it circulating. 

Here’s why:

First, because it’s part of our national identity, and our security.

Case in point: Sweden has gone all in on having a cashless society – so much so that they’ve got the lowest amount of physical cash floating around of any countries in the world. But guess what, they’re now having second thoughts. 

In November 2024, the Swedish Ministry of Defence sent every household a cheery little brochure entitled ‘If Crisis or War Comes’, advising citizens to withdraw and use cash regularly, keeping at least a week’s worth on hand in various denominations – because if cybercriminals or hostile nations decide to pull the plug on digital payments, tapping your card won’t buy you any Swedish meatballs. 

In other words, if the Vikings are worried about a digital apocalypse, maybe it’s time to stash a few pineapples under the mattress.

Second, because it’s an awesome visual aid for teaching kids the value of a buck.

And, finally, because the people who really run Canberra – the Australian Tax Office – despise cash, since it can’t be tracked. They want every payment to be electronic so they can suck up all that data and feed it through their AI supercomputers to track our every financial move.

Besides, this week’s bureaucratic bulldust is exactly why we should never surrender cash.

Tread Your Own Path!

I’ve Been Bawling My Eyes Out

Hi Scott,

I’m in the middle of this cyclone in Queensland. I have just found out I’ve been scammed after reading your ‘scam the scammer article’. I’ve been bawling my eyes out and I’m writing this with blurred vision. They drew me in with all the tricks you described. Even worse, I applied for a short-term loan on the scammer’s platform to trade but have not paid this loan back. I’m afraid they will come for me and want their money. Is this possible? I hope you can help in answering this question as I am not doing so well emotionally because of this.

Christina

Hey Christina,

I’m really sorry you’re going through this. I can only imagine how overwhelming it must feel, especially with everything else happening around you.

So I have bad news and good news:

The bad news is that you’re right – it’s a scam. Any money you’ve put in is gone and, unfortunately, there’s no way to get it back.

The good news? The ‘loan’ they roped you into doesn’t actually exist. They have no legal power over you, and you don’t have to pay them a cent.

Now there are three things I need to do:

One, block the scammers on WhatsApp, Facebook, and anywhere else they try to contact you.

Two, reach out to IDCARE (idcare.org) – they’ll help you with support and online security.

Finally, pick up when I call you later this week – I just want to check in on you.

You’ll get through this and come back stronger. Promise. 

Scott

Bridget Jones Scores $900

Hi Scott, 

I love your columns and still use your buckets 10 years after reading your book. I’ve saved and paid off my debts, but your email today was perfect timing. Last week, I put on my Bridget Jones big girl pants, called my insurance company, and questioned a $500 premium hike. After seven years of loyalty I was ready to switch, and they offered me a $900 discount – cheaper than any other quotes I had. I danced around my kitchen with joy! Thank you for empowering me to question big companies and say, “That’s not good enough, I want to pay less”.  

Kathryn

Hey Kathryn, You, my friend, just pulled off the ultimate power move – pants on, phone in hand – and now you’re $900 richer. And you’re not alone – I’ve been inundated with stories of people saving hundreds with my five-minute call. Now, a quick Public Service Announcement (PSA): Some readers pointed out that turning off auto-renew could mean forgetting to renew altogether. Don’t stress – your insurer will remind you. Yet, just to be safe, set a phone reminder for 11 months from now so you can rinse and repeat the savings next year.

Scott

Markets Crashing

“Grab your dressing gowns … we’re going on a magical mystery farm field trip”, I announced to the kids.

Their little eyes lit up as we trekked out of the house, through the gate, past our rapidly evaporating dam, and down to our 200,000-litre rainwater tank.

“How much water is in our tank?” I asked the kids.

My eldest started knocking the side of the tank – and found it was as hollow as Albo’s re-election pitch.

“It’s practically empty!” he gasped.

“Exactly!” I cried.

And so, with my little troops lined up in their jimjams, I went into full ‘Drill Sergeant Dad’ mode:

“And do you know what that means?” I said, eyeballing each of them.

“No flushing the toilet anymore?” giggled my four-year-old.

“No, that’s disgusting! It means that, until we get a good rain, you’re all sharing a bath!” I said sternly.

End of field trip.

Welcome to life on the farm.

“Farmers in Western Victoria grapple with the worst drought conditions in almost two decades”, said a headline from the ABC last week.

Uh-huh.

The article continued:

“BOM senior meteorologist Zhi-Weng Chua isn't seeing any drought-ending rain in the forecast.”

What a … BOM-mer!

Yet hang on a minute, how does the Bureau of Meteorology know what the weather will do in a month’s time?

They don’t!

And this is exactly like the share market right now.

“Aussies super in freefall because of Trump” …

“Fortunes lost in blink of an eye” …

“Markets are in crisis today as Donald Trump’s reign sparks terror across America. And we might not be able to escape the fallout” …

… screamed the headlines this week.

Holy Hector!

Yet another, way less exciting, way of writing that headline would be:

“Stocks have fallen to levels not seen since …  last August.” 

I know, I know, I’m hitting you with the sensible stick. And the question you really want to know is … is this the start of a much bigger Trump slump that will actually see your super in freefall?

Well, the honest answer is that I have no idea. However, what I do know is that the world has faced much bigger threats than Trumpty Dumpty and his untrusty sidekick the Muskrat:

Like World War I, World War II, the Great Depression, the Spanish flu, the Vietnam War, the Korean War, the Holden Captiva, the Global Financial Crisis, Covid. 

And, throughout all that, since 1900, the Aussie share market has had 101 ‘up’ years and 24 ‘down’ years.

When you look at the yearly returns over that time, what stands out is there weren’t that many years where there were thumping gains, or wipeout losses. 

So, predictably, the clickbait headlines are dead wrong: ‘freefalls’ simply don’t come around very often. Instead, most years are pretty boring – averaging around 10%–20% gains.

Put another way, if you chipped $1 into the share market in 1900 you’d unfortunately be dead by now. However, your great-grandkids would be able to buy a (semi) decent joint in Sydney: that buck would have grown to $4.2 million.

Okay, so that’s the history. Yet we live in the here and now, where sophisticated algorithms are programmed to scare us so we devote the best years of our lives staring at their overlords’ ads.

Well, here are my best tips for surviving this market drought:

Many years ago I sold all my individual shareholdings and moved to low-cost index funds, and then deleted the ‘Stocks’ app on my phone to stop me from doom scrolling share prices throughout the day.

It worked. 

Here’s the irony, though: over the past couple of months I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve been checking the BOM app at least five times a day. So this week I deleted it.

After all, do I have any control over when it will rain next?

No!

(Okay, sure the thought of doing a naked rain dance in the middle of the paddock crosses my mind every so often, but on the whole I’m much happier not having the lack of rain a constant depressing reminder in my pocket.) 

Besides, am I so stressed out that I would actually consider selling the farm?

Hell no!

Truth is, I see my share portfolio exactly the same way I see the farm: 

I don’t really care about the price of my farm, only the bumper crop of dividends that the land delivers me each and every year. That’s why, in addition to automating my regular share purchases, I now rarely check my portfolio of index funds, and I am much happier for it. 

So that’s my first tip: don’t check share prices. Just don’t.

Second, don’t listen to forecasters (as Judge Judy once quipped: “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining!”). 

Finally, understand that this downturn will not last. 

Know that it never lasts. 

In fact, what history does show is that the larger the downturn, the higher the future returns. Or, in other words: don’t throw your babies out with the bathwater.

Tread Your Own Path!

The Poo Test

Hi Scott,

Thanks for the Swedish Death Cleaning column last week. I suspect this is going to be a repeat in your inbox but here goes anyway: have you heard the new approach to culling? It’s called the ‘poo test’. You ask yourself: “If this had poo on it, would I wash the poo off to keep it?” If the answer is ‘no’, then donate it or toss it out.  I think it resonates well, especially with kids. Keep up your awesome work. 

Linda

Hi Linda,

Actually, my inbox was not inundated with people talking about the ‘poo test’.

In fact, you were the only one.

Look, I love a good decluttering hack as much as the next guy. (You should’ve seen the actual response to Swedish Death Cleaning – my inbox was practically hyperventilating with excitement.)

But your poo test? My kids were even grossed out by this one, and they’re surrounded by sheep poo!

Whatever happened to good old-fashioned “Does this spark joy?” or “Would I buy this again today?” I mean, imagine applying this test at Myer: 

“Would you like this salad spinner?”

“Hmm … if it had poo on it, would I wash it?”

“Please leave the store.”

Here’s to doing some Swedish Death Cleaning and then sending all that unwanted clutter to the local opp shop – clean.

Scott.

The Uncomfortable Wife

Hi Scott,

I own my home, have five of my own children still at home, and recently married a second time. My new husband does not want to combine our money or have the same accounts, and he wants to keep everything separate. He has no assets, savings or superannuation. He works on commission, and he is 10 years off retirement age. He contributes here and there, but l feel uncomfortable. Should l get a prenup now? 

Felicity

Hi Felicity,

This ain’t your first rodeo … so why are you acting like a rodeo clown?

You may think this guy is a puny pony, but he is every bit the bucking bronco:

He has no assets, no savings, no super, no reliable income … and no plan. 

My worry is that he’s likely to turn around one day and decide to launch you into the cheap seats. 

After all, he says he wants to keep money separate – yet he enjoys the use of your assets and doesn’t contribute consistently?

Easy, horsey!

It’s time you pull the reins in on this bloke and lovingly drive your spurs deep into his guts. 

Here’s how:

Book in to see a family lawyer today.  

Now, you can’t get a prenup after you’re married! So the legal document you need is a Binding Financial Agreement (BFA) – and you should absolutely get one. Also, update your will and estate plan to protect your kids. 

Felicity, you do not need permission to protect yourself and your kids. Enjoy the ride.

Scott.

Are You Okay?

“Are you okay? If you need a hand with anything, call.”

I stared at the text while I stood ankle-deep in a kiddie pool, orange juice in hand. 

I was at a kids’ birthday party. The sender? A farmer who lives 20 clicks from me.

Then Liz came out with her party hat on and said:

“There’s an out-of-control fire near the farm … and the wind is blowing in the wrong direction.”

I nervously sipped my juice while my family gave me my marching orders: 

I was told to go home and collect a stuffed cheetah, two teddy bears, and a prized poster of Kysaiah ‘Kozzy’ Pickett. Oh, and the passports. (“Dont’ forget the the damn passports!”)

I’ll be honest, as I drove back to the farm I was slightly freaked out. 

Still, a lot of people all over Australia have been feeling this way lately: with the cyclone, floods and fires (thankfully the fire near our place was eventually contained). And even if you haven’t – you sure as hell have been burned by your insurer. As one Barefooter wrote to me recently:

“Our home Insurance has tripled – from $400 per month to over $1,200. Why is no one talking about this?! You can't even get a mortgage without having insurance, so there is no way out!”

Sheizenhowzen! 

Over a third of insurers have increased prices by more than 15% in the last year (the worst hikers according to CHOICE were Kogan, RAC and Honey). 

Now that doesn’t sound too bad right?

Well, hold my OJ:  

In a recent ‘shadow shop’, CHOICE found the biggest price difference between identical home and contents insurance policies wasn’t double or even triple … it was TWENTY TIMES.

Blitzenschnauzer!

Okay, so here’s what I want you to do.

First, load up Mr Inbetween on Binge (thank me later), grab your preferred brew, get your phone out of your pocket, and take prime position on the La-Z-Boy. We’re going to do some multi-tasking.

1. Grab your home and contents policy (or just contents if you’re renting) and find your ‘sum insured’ – that’s the total amount you’re covered for. Write it down.

2. Next, google three quotes. 

3. Right-yo, it’s time to get off the recliner. Grab your phone and film your place like you’re making a true-crime doco – open cupboards, dig through drawers, and don’t forget the garage. If you ever need to claim, this footage will be worth its weight in gold.

4. Then walk outside and act like a meth-head casing the joint: Do you have a yappy dog? Deadbolts on the door? Security cameras? Note down anything you’ve done to Fort Knox your home.

5. Then call your insurer and follow this script:

You: “Hi, my name is [Your Name] and I’m really struggling to afford my home and contents insurance policy. I’d like to discuss how we can reduce my premium. My policy number is XYZ.”​

Insurer: “I’d be happy to help.”​

You: “After a lot of research, I’ve found comparable coverage from other insurers at more competitive rates. Additionally, I’ve implemented several safety measures in my home, such as [consult your meth-head list]. Given these factors, I’m seeking a reassessment of my premium.”​

Insurer: “Let me review your policy and see what adjustments we can make.”

Cue condescending loop of a voiceover woman saying “Your call is important to us".

Insurer: “Thank you for your patience. Based on the information provided, we can offer a premium reduction of [amount].”​

You: “I appreciate that. However, considering the competitive quotes I’ve received, plus the safety enhancements I’ve made, I believe there’s room for a more substantial reduction. Additionally, I’m willing to increase my excess, which should further lower my premium by at least an additional 10%.”

Insurer: “I understand. Let me see what more we can do.”​

James Blunt’s “You’re Beautiful” plays.

Insurer: “After further review, we can offer an additional discount, bringing your new premium to [new amount].”​

You: “Now we’re talking. Send me that in writing and we’re good.”

Insurer: “Done! Anything else?”

You: “Yes, please cancel my auto-renew immediately.”

Insurer: “Are you sure? That’s how we screw you next year.”

In the time it takes you to watch the first episode of Mr Inbetween, you should be able to save yourself hundreds and potentially thousands of dollars.

There’s only one thing left to do. My final instruction is to send me an email at scott@barefootinvestor.com and tell me how much you saved. I’ll report back next week. 

Tread Your Own Path!

My Mother Is Acting Like a Teenager

Hi Scott,

I’m nearly 18 and the only one bringing in money for my family. Mum’s been out of work for 17 years – tried a job but quit due to bullying. Dad pays minimal child support and, despite cutting costs, we’re drowning in bills. Mum ‘borrowed’ $1,700 from my savings, leaving me with $2,100, and now she and my sister want to start a clothing business. I’ve started a part-time job, but I feel pressured to cover our expenses. I get $200 a fortnight from Centrelink and I’m expecting a $20,000 injury payout that I wanted to invest. I love Mum, and she’s sacrificed so much, but I’m about to start uni and I have my own goals. How do I support my family without sacrificing my future?

Kelly

Hi Kelly

First of all, I just want to take a moment to recognise how awesome and mature you are: there are very few 18-year-olds who would have the insight and emotional intelligence to write me a letter like you’ve just done. 

Now it sounds like the roles are reversed in your household: your mum is acting like a teenager and you are playing the role of the responsible adult. That’s a lot to take on, but I have the sense that you’re up to the challenge, Kelly.

Here’s what I’d suggest.

First, protect that payout. A $20,000 windfall at your age is life-changing. Consider sticking it in a locked-off term deposit, or in a low-cost share index fund, where it’s out of reach but still growing. Whatever you do, don’t let guilt drain it away.

Second, sit down with your mum and lay out the hard truth: you’re going to uni, you’re not funding the household anymore, and she needs a real job, not a business gamble.

Finally, you’re about to start your adult life. Set up your Barefoot Buckets, save aggressively, and focus on uni. Helping isn’t giving your family money – it’s showing them what real financial responsibility looks like.

Good luck!

Scott.