You’ll hate this

After reading this column, my editor, Wally, said:

“I’m confident this piece will generate the greatest amount of hate mail you’ve ever received.”

Let’s see if he’s right …

Do you know what the easiest thing I could have done this week was?

Exactly what every other financial commentator has done:

Lean into the outrage about the budget.

Instead, I’m going the other way. And I’m probably going to piss a lot of you off. Starting with Brian, who wrote to me after what I can only imagine was a solid session on the La-Z-Boy with a few reds:

Scott,

I am just so sick of these incompetent bastards. This budget is just another giant Labor tax grab. People in the top 10% of income earners pay more than half the taxes. Half! Now Albo wants to be a 47% silent partner in every small business in the country. Why would anyone bother? Young people saving for a deposit in index funds? Taxed. Family trusts helping kids through university? Taxed. Small business owners who’ve spent decades building something? Taxed at rates that would make your eyes water.

New Zealand has no capital gains tax. Dubai has no capital gains tax. And our smartest young people are figuring that out real fast. You’ve got the platform, Scott. Let your followers know what’s really going on.

Brian

Bingo-bango, Brian!

You’ve sure got a lot of very big feelings.

Thankfully, I’m a father of four. I deal with big feelings before breakfast.

Let’s get into it.

Brian and I have a lot in common. I’m a high income earner and I pay a lot of tax. I come from a family of small business owners and I run one myself. And I bristle when I see politicians crowing about their economic credentials. The fact is, this is the highest-taxing Australian government since World War Two, and that spending is putting pressure on interest rates that every mortgage holder feels.

Yet what really worries me isn’t the tax take. It’s that our outrage meter seems to be stuck at eleven.

It feels like we’re drifting towards America, where everything is viewed through a political lens and everyone is absolutely furious all the time.

And if we get angry enough we might just end up with Pauline as our PM, and the greatest economic insight she’s ever had was asking “Why can’t we just print more money?”

(Seriously, look it up.)

Anyway, let’s deal with Brian’s three beefs.

Think of the poor kids!

Plenty of young people have written to me in a panic about the changes to capital gains tax. Many were planning to use their share portfolio as a house deposit.

My view?

The CGT change is not their biggest problem.

Let's say a young investor puts $50k into an Aussie index fund. Based on historical returns, it grows to around $72k over five years. Under the new CGT rules, they'd pay roughly $900 more tax when they sell. And depending on future returns and inflation, they might actually come out ahead.

The real problem is the share market dropping 40% and their $72,000 deposit becoming $43,000. Then it takes a decade to recover, while rents keep rising and they’re still at their parents’ place eating their Cheerios. That’s why my rule has never changed: do not save for a house deposit in the share market.

Introducing my new business partner!

Brian’s “47% silent partner” line was funny on social media the first 700 times. Now it’s just annoying. And it’s wrong. The small business CGT concession regime allows the vast majority of small business owners to halve or completely eliminate the capital gains tax they pay when they sell. It’s been there for years (though the thresholds need to be increased).

The real risk is using the tax rate as a reason not to back yourself. Building something from nothing, employing people, serving your community. It’s a hard life. It’s also one of the most rewarding things a person can do. Don’t let a meme talk you out of it.

The family trust

Okay, so this one stings. You see, my kids have been nothing but a spectacular financial loss since the day they arrived. I was counting down the days until they turned eighteen, when I could finally start distributing trust income to them and claw something back. And then the bloody government snapped that door shut just as my eldest was getting close to useful.

Yet it actually makes sense. The system lets wealthy families with good accountants pay less tax than nurses and tradies. That doesn’t pass the pub test.

Finally, if you spend enough time on social media (or listen to Brian) you may start to think that Australia is the highest-taxed nation on earth. Actually, we’re in the middle of the pack, but with a standard of living in the top handful of countries on the planet. The cops don’t shake us down (mostly). Our kids go to decent public schools (mostly). And if one of them gets sick, you don’t need a GoFundMe page.

And what about the top 10% of taxpayers that Brian is so upset for?

We’ll be fine.

After all, we’re the wealthiest people in the country.

Living in one of the wealthiest countries in the world.

At the richest time in human history.

Life is good, Brian, especially when you log off.

Tread Your Own Path!

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Your Questions & Answers

• Am I Financially Abusing My Brother?

• No Show Albo

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Am I Financially Abusing My Brother?

Hi Scott,

My brother just divorced his nasty wife. She had access to all his accounts, blew through a $180,000 inheritance, ran up $25,000 on his credit card, and towards the end wouldn’t even let him touch his own debit card. He’s now living with me. He’s on a disability pension and can’t work. I manage his accounts, have set up his savings, and have tried to teach him the basics. He says it’s too hard. My sister accuses me of making it worse. Am I doing more harm than good?

Caring Sister

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Hello Caring Sister,

Your brother is lucky to have you.

Your sister doesn’t sound nice, but she does have a point.

(How’s that for having it both ways?)

Now, before you throw me across the room, I know your intentions are completely different from his nasty ex-wife’s. You love your brother. She didn’t. But, from where he’s standing, someone else is still controlling his money, his savings, and his decisions.

Now your bro doesn’t need to become the next Warren Buffett. He just needs to learn to stand on his own two feet again, but that won’t happen while you’re transferring his surplus savings for him.

Think about how this plays out long term. Your brother grows increasingly dependent on you. You grow increasingly resentful … and neither of you need that. 

My advice?

Keep helping him with the basics. Set him up with one simple account, show him how to use his card, and then step back. Let him make small mistakes with small money. That’s how people learn. And then, when the settlement comes, he’ll be ready to move out and start his new life. That’s good for him, and great for you.

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No Show Albo

Scott,

As a man who lost the family home because of my gambling addiction (a shame I live with every day), and as a father whose teenage son ‘plays’ fantasy football and gets emails and ads from sports gambling companies, I was bitterly disappointed that the government tried to bury their inaction on gambling ads. Did you get a reply from the Prime Minister?

Daniel

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Hi Daniel

I wasn’t expecting a reply, and old Albo didn’t disappoint!

He’s the most powerful man in Australian politics. He had the backing from both sides of politics, and the people – nearly three-quarters of parents (myself included) reported being bothered by their kids being exposed to gambling ads.

He had the ability to stand up and say:

“We’ve got a huge gambling problem on our hands, and the beginning of that problem is that sport is a gateway to gambling: today for three in four kids it’s a normal part of sport. That’s crap. I’m the Prime Minister of this country and I’ve had enough. No more bloody ads.”

But he didn’t.

The lobbyists won, the kids lost.

The odds never change.

Thanks for reading.

Scott.

Barefoot’s Take on the Budget

A spinner from the Housing Minister’s office called me a couple of weeks ago:

“The Minister would like to invite you to Canberra to attend the Budget. There are a few changes we’re going to announce that, let’s just say … we think you’ll be very interested in”, he purred.

“Yeah, yeah. You blokes always say that. What’s the date again?” I asked, turning off my tractor.

“It’s the 12th of May”, he confirmed.

I pulled up my calendar.

On the 12th of May I had one all-day event scheduled:

“Colonoscopy.”

Yes, I’d booked an anal probe, completely forgetting my other Canberra clean-out with Dr Jim Chalmers.

Seriously, this column writes itself. (It would be funny if I wasn't completely TERRIFIED.)

It gets better though. As I lay on the cold operating table on Tuesday, my backside blowing in the breeze, the anaesthetist appeared hovering over my head:

“I just want to say I’m a huge Barefooter. Your book changed my life. You took some time off the column, but I’m glad you’re back. Now go to sleep … deep sleep …”

Meanwhile in Canberra, as a nation we collectively clutched our coits as Dr Jim pulled on his rubber gloves.

The changes to negative gearing and capital gains will make property investing less attractive. I’m happy to cop that if it takes a bit of heat out of house prices. My kids need somewhere to live one day. So do yours.

He also tightened the squirrel grip on trusts and capital gains tax. But you’ve already read a thousand boring headlines about all this since Tuesday so I won’t go on. 

Yet here’s what I actually think mattered:

The Government did not touch the two tax-free foundations of the Barefoot Steps: your family home and your super. In other words, even though some rules changed on Tuesday, the Barefoot plan did not.

Finally, I know this is a lot. But if you’ve been sitting on the fence about calling your doctor and getting a full ‘Barnaby Joyce’, just make the call. Book it in. It’s the same rule as investing: the best time to pull the trigger is when you’re terrified.

Tread Your Own Path!

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Your Questions & Answers

• Albo Buried This on Budget Day – Let’s Dig It Up

• We Are Going Under … 

• Against All Odds

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Albo Buried This on Budget Day – Let’s Dig It Up

So I didn't make it to Canberra this week. Yet it turns out that Albo and I had something in common this week: we were both busy burying things somewhere the sun don’t shine. So, for the first time ever, I'm flipping the script — I’m not answering the first question, I'm asking it!

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Dear Anthony,

All the headlines this week are asking whether you lied about negative gearing. I don’t care. You saw an opportunity and you took it. Good on you.

Here’s my question: why couldn’t you be bold when it came to our kids?

Australians are the world’s biggest gambling losers – forty percent worse than the country that comes second. That doesn’t happen by accident. It requires fresh-faced kids. And over a third of 12- to 17-year-olds are already gambling. Gamblers Anonymous is now seeing teenagers at its meetings.

The late Labor MP Peta Murphy handed you 31 recommendations, and her dying wish was urgent reform. You had bipartisan support. You sat on it for 1,050 days. Then, while every journalist in the country was buried in the budget lockup and I had a camera up my clacker, you quietly slipped it out.

Now, you could have gone on The Today Show and said:

“These companies have hijacked our sport and they’re targeting our kids. I’m banning the ads.”

(And I think every parent in the country would have fist-pumped their Weet-Bix off the table, even the ones who love a punt.)

But you didn’t.

Is it any wonder voters are done with the party machine? You’re the most powerful man in the country, Anthony. You just proved you can be bold when you want to be.

So why not for the kids?

Scott

We Are Going Under … 

Dear Scott,

My husband and I are both 53, earning $120,000 each. Our 18-year-old is at uni and still lives with us. We have two younger boys (16 and 14) with ADHD, both on medication, both seeing specialists, and studying with tutors because they have difficulties at school. The medical bills are brutal.

We owe $35,500 in unpaid school fees and carry a $1.25 million mortgage. Fifty percent of our income goes to the mortgage alone. Some months we spend more than we earn. On top of that, both my husband and I have some pretty serious medical issues – and yet we’ve been skipping seeing specialists for fear of even higher bills. My husband took a new job to earn more money, but he’s not sure it will last. The tension at home is constant. We yell at each other about cheese.

We’ve seen a financial counsellor, who told us nothing new. We have tried the Barefoot buckets but there is not 10% left to put in any bucket. We don’t know whether to sell the house, rent it out, hold on, or let go. Scott, we are drowning. Please guide us.

Maria

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Hi Maria,

I want to share something with you.

Many years ago, at a deserted beach, I got caught in a rip.

It happened so gradually I didn’t notice at first. I thought I was in control. Then I realised I was moving steadily out to sea.

At first, I panicked. I screamed and waved at the lone surfer on the shore. I stripped off my clothes, thinking it would help me stay afloat. It did. But only for a minute.

Then I got so tired I remember thinking I couldn’t go on. That I’d just let the waves take me.

That’s where you are right now, Maria. There are no boats coming. No one else can make this call. But if you're asking me what I'd do in your situation, here's the lifejacket:

Sell the house. Rent. Demolish the debt. Regroup.

You couldn’t afford it even if every one of you was in perfect health. But you’re not. Every person under your roof needs medical treatment, counselling, or extra tuition. These are needs, not wants.

And the private school? You’re paying overdue fees and private tutors. If they can’t get your kids across the line without backup, what are you actually paying for?

One rate rise, one car noise, one bad day at the new job, and you get sucked under and don’t come back up. You’re skipping seeing specialists for fear of bills. That terrifies me more than the mortgage.

Right now you have choices. That won’t always be true.

Reach out and grab the lifejacket, Maria.

Before the rip takes you.

Against All Odds

Hi Scott,

I’m a 25-year-old woman looking for help with my super. I was kicked out of home when I was 16, and due to this I have no parental figures to ask for guidance. After all that trauma, I’ve finally got to a place where I’m financially stable (mainly thanks to your book, The Barefoot Investor, which has been a godsend). I’m now looking to set myself up for retirement. I’m wanting to know what’s the limit to insurance on my super fund. How much in weekly fees for insurance is too much? I’ve got just under $30,000 in my super fund. I work a blue-collar job (parts and accessory fitter). I’m unsure what cover I need and what fees I should settle for. Please help, and thank you.

Sarah

Hey Sarah,

It sounds like the trauma you faced as a kid has defined you, in a good way. You want security, and from the questions you’re asking I have absolutely no doubt you’ll never be financially vulnerable again.

You are a winner.

Now, to your question:

Blowing out 25 candles kickstarts your super fund charging you for default insurance cover.

Is it worth it?

Bloody oath. Default insurance super starts off pretty cheap, around $300 a year for a combined policy that covers you for dying, being left totally disabled, or losing your income if you need extended time off work.

Of course, without kids or dependants you don’t have to worry too much about dying … it’s the cover for being ‘nearly dead’ (disability, loss of income) that’s important for you.

You got this.

Thanks for reading.

Scott.

Are you okay?

“Don’t make me stop this car!” I roared at the kids in the back. And then, for possibly the first time ever, I actually followed through.

I stopped the car. The kids froze.

I took a long breath, looked out the window, and noticed a half-boarded-up pizza joint.

“Let's get some pizza”, I said.

Inside, it was empty. No phones ringing. No music. Just a tired woman behind the counter with tattooed-on eyebrows, staring straight through me.

“One family-sized Margherita, please."

We sat at faux-wood tables while I flicked through a Woman’s Day magazine:

From October 1987.

The headlines were perfect:

“Take 2 inches off your hips in 2 weeks.”

“Which makeup colours make you prettier?”

“AIDS HYSTERIA: How much fear makes sense?”

Every second page was an ad for ciggies, or pictures of women in leotards smoking Alpine menthols.

The magazine smelled like the vinyl backseat of our old Ford Falcon. Warm. Faded. Casually sexist.

This week, an ANU study found nearly three in five Australians believe that life was better 50 years ago … and I was holding their evidence.

Okay, so let’s not pretend 1987 was all apricot chicken. HIV/AIDS was coming for everyone. The devil had slipped secret messages into AC/DC songs (if you played them backwards), and kids risked getting square eyes watching too much Scott and Charlene (ask your parents).

Yet flicking through those musty pages I was struck that there was nothing on side hustles, investment properties, or the hand-wringing of how your kids will ever afford a home.

Makes sense.

Back then a house cost about three times the average income. A family home was something you worked towards, and paid off – then set your sights on a shiny new Commodore.

Yet just as that magazine was hitting the printing presses … everything changed.

The share market crashed. 

Interest rates rocketed to 17%. The economy did the Locomotion. Finance hit the front pages, and never left.

And then? Well, then came the biggest borrowing binge in history … and it’s still going strong 40 years on.

Houses now cost a staggering ten times the average income.

Every year we borrow more, we stress more, and we lie awake wondering how our kids will ever afford something as basic as a roof over their heads.

On paper we’re wealthier. But we’ve never been in more debt, or more stressed and depressed.

The pizza came. It was horrific. The kids looked at me. I looked at them, and said: “You get what you get and you don’t get upset.”

They had no choice but to eat what they were served. That’s how life works!

Tread Your Own Path!

Your Questions & Answers

• My Husband’s $100,000 Gambling Debts

• Is HESTA Super Going Broke?

• Welfare Check: Are You Okay, Barefoot? 

My Husband’s $100,000 Gambling Debts

Hi Scott,

Over the last four years I have paid nearly $100,000 dollars of my husband’s gambling debts. He still has $55,000 dollars to pay on a personal loan, and he says he needs $6,000 immediately to tide him over. He refuses to show me evidence of his transactions – I suspect he owes more than he is telling me. My salary goes into the offset account but he keeps his account separate.  If I don’t pay his debts, he stops paying for groceries and stops contributing to the mortgage. I turn 50 this year. I am afraid for my emotional and financial wellbeing, and for that of our son.  However, I don’t have the family or social support to separate immediately. I am trying to get my head around this situation without losing myself.  I need to protect myself and my son financially while I work out what to do. I would really appreciate your help.

Sally

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Hi Sally,

You must be absolutely exhausted.

Here’s the brutal truth: this isn’t over. It won’t stop until he puts his hand up and gets help. And even then it’s a long, hard road back through the financial wreckage this has caused.

You are dealing with a disease that is designed to take every cent it can get its hands on. I see the damage it causes every day.

My advice?

It’s time to be ruthless. For your son.

Do not pay another dollar towards your husband’s gambling debts.
Do not give him any money. Pay the bills yourself.

As long as you keep covering for him, this will continue.

Then, make two appointments. First, call a financial counsellor (National Debt Helpline: 1800 007 007) and get a plan in place to protect yourself. Second, see a family lawyer so you can understand your options.

Hope is not a strategy. You’ve carried this for four years. That has to stop. And it starts by getting the right people around you. Reach out to me this week, and I’ll help.

Is HESTA Super Going Broke?

Hi Scott,

I’m so mad at my super fund, HESTA, right now. I’m 44 and I’ve been with them for years. I have $250k with them, but I’m ready to jump ship after recent reports that their administrator (Grow Inc) has significant debt. Not to mention the argy-bargy HESTA put a lot of members through when they switched to said administrator last year.

I have no trust in their ability to safeguard and invest my super anymore. But I also found out that Vanguard Super also uses the same administrator, so I’m nervous about moving my funds just to land in the same pot of trouble.  Am I being too hasty? Or has HESTA bollocksed it up enough to warrant a move?

Cheers,

Sash

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Hi Sash,

Your money in HESTA is safe.

However, I’ll leave it to you to decide whether you want to put up with their half-arsed service (and why Vanguard recently decided to YOLO with Grow).

Could you imagine if CommBank came out and said:

“In an effort to save us a bit of dough, we outsourced our entire customer administration process to a dinky little outfit … and it appears they’ve stuffed things up. So you won’t be able to access your bank accounts for the next seven weeks. Starting now.”

They’d be taco meat by Tuesday.

Well, that’s effectively what HESTA said (and did) last year!

My view?

Super funds have got their outsourcing completely arsed about:

They spend thousands of millions each year flying around the world first class trying (and failing) to pick winning investments. (This despite the fact that the evidence is unequivocal: they should outsource their investment decisions to a low-cost index, and return those thousands of millions of dollars to our accounts).

Yet they have outsourced the very thing that their customers need: reliable, safe and seamless access to their money! This explains why rolling over your super fund is harder than getting a council permit to build a shed.

It’s a total disgrace.

Welfare Check: Are You Okay, Barefoot?

Hey Scott, just wanted to check in. Haven't seen any newsletters or articles in the Herald Sun lately. RUOK? Missing your wise words.

Deb

Hi Deb,

Thank you for checking in ... and to the many readers who wrote asking the same thing.

I can confirm I am okay!

I've been writing this column for 23 years. When my first son was born, I asked my editors if I could take school holidays off to spend time with him. They reluctantly said yes.

Twelve years on, I'm still holding that boundary. In fact, it's even more important to me today. After all, I only have six more years with him at home.

That's wealth to me.

Thank you for reading.

Scott.

I’m Disappointed in You, Barefoot

Scott,

I was disappointed with your response to the teacher last week. Why not provide a real solution when you are asked? The ASX School trading game is a lot of fun and can be done in a safe way to encourage kids to get a taste of investing. I would have thought you would jump at sharing a low cost, safe way to learn how to invest.

Denise

Hi Denise,

The ASX school trading game is, in my view, redic-or-us.

Students get a virtual $50,000 and have 10 weeks to trade stocks throughout the school day.

What does that teach kids?

That investing is basically gambling. Just without the sports.

That is monumentally wrong. It’s dangerous. It’s poisonous. After all, if investing were a 10-week sprint, Warren Buffett would’ve retired at 14.

The ASX should shut it down and leave the gambling grooming to Sportsbet.

The best way to learn to invest is to actually do it. Take some pocket money — as little as $25 — and put it into a low-cost index fund. Google “kids investing app” and you’ll find plenty of options.

At the same time, plant an apple tree in the backyard.

Watch both grow.

That’s investing.

I Changed Out of My Nightie for This?!

Hi Scott,

I’m a 55-year-old disabled pensioner who hadn’t been clubbing in decades … but a few weeks ago I did. Guess where all the ‘cool kids’ hang out now? The pokies room. Not the dance floor or the bar — the poker machines! Rows of very, very young people feeding note after note into flashing machines. They weren’t drinking or talking, just glued to the screens. At closing time I heard teenagers told to come back tomorrow to collect winnings because the tills were closed. One said if she came back she’d “just feed it straight back in”.  When did clubbing turn into silent gambling sessions? What is the so-called Community Gambling Fund actually doing? Do parents realise this is where their kids’ pay packets are going? Who regulates this, and who fixes it? This was Hervey Bay. Have you been clubbing lately?

Jil

Hi Jil,

Jackpot!

If I asked people to pick who was the pokie player – you or the young girl saying she’d feed her winnings straight back in – most would pick you.

They’d be wrong.

If you think pokies are an old person’s vice, think again. Young people aged 18–34 are now the demographic most at risk of gambling harm in Australia.

 According to the Australian Gambling Research Centre, among young men who gamble 71% show signs of harm. For young women, it’s 55%. When it comes to poker machines, nearly nine in ten young pokie players are classified as at risk.

Nine in ten.

That’s why I have a saying with my kids every time a gambling ad comes on:

“Gambling is for losers.”

Then I make them repeat it back.

“Gambling is for losers.”

Look, Australia has the highest gambling losses per capita in the world.

We didn’t get here by accident.

We willingly addict our kids while pokies companies and sports betting lobbyists grease the palms of politicians who kill any reform that might threaten the cash flow.

You know what really gets me?

Most Aussies want it reined in. Poll after poll shows it.

Yet the truth is that politicians are the biggest winners from this misery.

And until that changes, nothing changes.

Schooling the Teacher

Dear Scott,

I am a secondary school teacher, and I have two questions:

Would you come and speak to Year 10, 11 and 12 students about the problems of gambling and how to save using your methods?

Do you have any recommendations about where I can learn to trade? I’ve looked at a few but they seem to want to sell, sell, sell once you pay the initial $7,000.

Haley

Hi Haley,

Thanks for your questions, but I think you’ve got them back to front.

If you sign up for a $7,000 program and begin trading, you will learn all you need to know to teach your young students about the problems of gambling.

The Worst Question EVER

Hi Scott,

My adult son posed a hypothetical question the other day: what happens if someone dies and they have a huge gambling debt? Sadly this is the reality for many young men today. Is the debt something that needs to be paid out of the deceased person’s will? We are fortunate to not have this situation but he knows young men with babies who do! Thank you. We all love your books and columns and value your advice so much!

Sharron

Sharron,

Stop what you’re doing right now and go and find your son.

When the two of you are alone, I want you to ask him the following question without flinching:

“Have you ever thought about killing yourself?”

Don’t fill in the silence. Let him answer. Maintain eye contact.

The best case scenario is that I have completely overreacted, and everything is totally fine.

The worst case scenario is too heartbreaking, and too final, to walk back from. 

Don’t mess around with hypothetical questions like this – treat it as a warning signal.

I’ve spoken to enough heartbroken parents who would give anything to have that awkward three-minute conversation.

Whatever he says, let him know that you are there to support him with anything he’s going through.

If he dismisses you, feel free to give him my details, and I will help him, confidentially, and free of charge.

Good luck.

One more thing: 

If you’re reading this and thinking “bloody hell, that’s me” – stop suffering in silence. You don’t have to do this alone. Pick up the phone and call 1800 858 858. The people on the other end of that line have heard it all before. They won’t judge you. And they actually know how to help. It’s free, it’s confidential, and they’re there 24/7. Sometimes the hardest part is just making the call. My advice? Do it anyway.

Scott

The worst question

I woke up at 4:30am and stumbled to the kitchen. 

Through sleepy eyes, I spotted a handwritten note on the fridge from my eldest son: 

"Why are you doing this to me? The pain is unbearable! And for what!?"

He’d just been fitted for braces and was evidently having a hard time breaking up with popcorn.

Now, we live in the country, so I thought we’d get country prices. Wrong. Ten grand. That’s what it cost us. That’s more than I spent on my first three cars combined! And yet they were the same tram tracks that kids had in the 80s, just ten times the ticket price!

Look, I’m no tooth fairy, but it looks simple enough: thirty cents of wire, a few dobs of Supa Glue, and a tiny ratchet they tighten monthly. My fencer could probably do it (though at $150 an hour it’d cost the same anyway).

I was having a bad week.

Yet it was about to get worse.

That morning I received a very serious email about last week’s column. I’d written about MoneyMe, a tadpole lender that looked at a couple spending $92,000 on a wedding and thought, “This is perfect marketing material”. Ribbit! They were so angry they cc’d all my bosses at the newspaper.

BAM! 

They demanded that their branding be taken off social media mentions, and included an itemised list of things they wanted “corrected” for the record.

(Oh for godsakes. I felt like I was in the dentist’s chair. Someone give me some happy gas!)

“We’ll make a couple of tweaks”, said my editor.

“Fair enough”, I said.

“... but there’s nothing to stop me writing about them again this week”, I thought to myself. 

“They’ll love that.”

That night, as my son slurped his soup, he looked as miserable as me. 

Here’s what I told him:

“Mate, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but some pain is actuallly worth it.”

And so is calling out financial products that trap people in unnecessary debt, even if it means angry emails. Because, unlike braces, bad financial decisions don’t come off in two years. They can wire your life shut for a decade.

Tread Your Own Path!

Sorry, But Your Son is a Loser

Hi Scott,

I've had a recent shock after checking my 16-year-old's bank statement. He's been gambling over the last 6 months and had about 9 different betting accounts! I assumed he had stolen his Dad's ID to open them, but when I logged in to close them down, all he had used was our name and date of birth, then his email and phone number – easy as. The reason he had so many accounts was that each new sign-up gets you free bets.

A week later at the bank, I discovered my 18-year-old son had also been gambling. All the money from his birthday two months earlier – over a thousand dollars – was gone. I am so disappointed and upset. I have prided myself on always having the difficult conversations with them about sex and drugs, and we have discussed gambling lots over the years.

Mary

Mary,

This made my blood BOIL.

Do you know what makes this just so utterly outrageous?

The fact that it's so completely normal!

It ain't just your boys, Mary:

One in three kids aged 12–17 are already gambling, according to the Office of Responsible Gambling's 2020 Youth Study.

One in three!

Yet it makes perfect sense when you think about it.

After all, we are a nation of gambling addicts.

Each year we rack up the largest losses in the world, per head.

That doesn't happen by chance.

It requires a society that willingly allows its young people to be groomed by gambling companies.

That's the truth, and it's disgusting.

"Teenage brains are … more sensitive to rewards than potential risks. This helps explain why young people, aged 18 to 29, have the highest rates of gambling problems", says Professor Sally Gainsbury from Sydney University.

Too many young men kill themselves because of their gambling problems.

Anthony Albanese knows this, but he refuses to stand up for them.

Nor do our sporting codes.

In fact, they take their money.  

Yet even though our politicians are weak as piss, the gambling lobby is here to help us Mary.

No, really.

The Australasian Gaming Council (AGC) is pushing for schools to introduce financial literacy programs that educate students about responsible gambling. In fact, they've even produced a guide book for teachers.

Hang on, why would a gambling lobby want this?

Maybe because they see it as a recruitment drive.

"One of the risks of these education programs is that it may introduce gambling as a 'risky' activity to students who may not have otherwise given it much consideration", argues Professor Matthew Rockloff, the head of the Experimental Gambling Lab at Curtin Uni.

In other words, telling young, rebellious, risk-taking boys about a way to take risks could … influence them to take those risks. (Like they see their dads do each weekend. It's almost like a rite of passage, right?)

Now, as you may know, I am obsessed with getting financial education in schools.

Yet if I was going to include a section on gambling in my financial school program it'd look a little different to the gambling lobby's.

Here's how I'd do it:

I'd explain that my program is not funded by gambling companies, so I won't be using the weasel words "responsible gambling". (Seriously, can you imagine if kids were taught at school about "responsible smoking"?)

Instead, I'd use the simple reframe that I use on my own kids: "Gambling is for losers."

Every time my kids are hit with a gambling message, whether it be watching the footy, on the radio, or a YouTube video, I immediately reverse the brainwashing by saying aloud: "Gambling is for losers".

Finally, I'd tell them this truth:

The rich men running these betting companies spend millions of dollars each year manipulating you.

They flood social media feeds, they hijack your favorite sport, they hire actors, comedians, influencers and celebrities, all for one single aim:

To get you to bet.

Why?

Because the more you gamble … the more you lose … and the more money they make.

They're busy building themselves a bigger mansion. And it's paid for by your losses.

So, the most rebellious thing a teenage kid could do is to not bet.

To send a message to these suits to bugger off.

To tell them you know their game is up:

“Gambling is for losers”.

Look, adults betting is their business, but when the gambling industry sets its sights on our kids, all bets are off. 

Of course the gambling industry will argue they’re not targeting kids. 

So why are they on TikTok? 

And who did they have in mind when they created bets like, how many Taylor Swift's new album will be #1 for, who will win Dancing with the Stars, or whether Timothee Chalamet and Kylie Jenner will get engaged (I have no idea who they are, but I hope they find love).

My view?

If any company is caught letting a minor bet, they should be immediately shut down.

Mary, I'm sorry this has happened to your family.

It's time we bet on our kids.

My week from hell

Right now I'm surrounded by more nuts than a fruitcake. 

I have legal letters firing around from a column I wrote last week (more on that next week). 

My daughter just ordered some baby goats (a replacement for the pony), which is going to end badly. 

I have Argentinian backpackers learning to drive my tractor (they keep screaming '¡la concha de la lora!' which ChatGPT translates as 'parrots vagina').

So naturally, this is when my editor rings:

"Did you see the inflation data that just came out? You need to write about interest rates this week … it's the biggest story in business".

Of course it is.

Breathe.

Newsflash: The price of everything is too damned high.

And that means the experts that predicted a Melbourne Cup interest rate cut finished at the back of the pack (again): we won't be getting a rate cut next week. In fact, if prices keep rising, the RBA's next move could be to raise rates.

And if reading that makes you feel queasy, I've got the perfect solution for you.

Grab your phone and go sit on the toilet.

Head to the MoneySmart website, and click on their repayment calculator. Add one percent to your repayments and see what that does to your mortgage. If that number makes your guts drop … well, you're in the right room for it.

Look, I've helped thousands of people stare down their debts, and the key to success is simple:

Set your repayments much higher (say, 10%).

Then, work out how the hell you'll make it happen.

Cut your own hair. Sell the jetski. Deliver pizzas. Whatever it takes.

The key with mortgage stress is simple: Panic early.

Life throws enough curveballs. The families who win are the ones who see the financial threat coming and act before they have to. Don't wait for the RBA to make you scream about parrots, get on that bloody tractor!

Tread Your Own Path!

P.S Only one question this week, but it’s a CORKER!

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

Hitting the Jackpot

Hi Barefoot,

My hubby spends all his ‘Splurge’ account on TattsLotto. And not just here and there — his account statements are littered with TattsLotto purchases. I think this is unhealthy but he is using his Splurge for it, which I guess shows a level of control. Am I just worried about nothing or is this something we should take seriously? I don’t want to be financially controlling, but it doesn’t feel right.

Melanie

Hi Melanie,

What a great question! 

Here’s a better one I’d ask him:

What could he spend his Splurge money on that would give him the best bang for his buck?

After all, he’s got a 1-in-140 million chance of winning the jackpot … but if he saved up his money and splurged on  a romantic night away with you (without the kidlets) … well, I’ll leave it up to you to explain his odds of hitting the jackpot.

And while you’re having a nice romantic dinner, you could do a Barefoot Date Night, review your buckets, and plan on doing more things that’ll make you both smile.

We Hit the Jackpot!

Hi Scott,

This month, my husband and I will finally be debt free! We owe nothing (though we also own nothing). My hubby used to have an addiction to gambling and a $120,000 debt on credit cards. We have spent the past five years paying every last cent off, while having three children under five, and I’ve also been studying at uni. My question is: moving forward, how can we make the best decisions to create wealth, and is trading shares just a form of gambling?

Kylie

Hi Kylie,

What a truly amazing all-of-family feat.

The fact that you guys bunkered down and paid off all your debts tells me a lot about the people you really are.

Know this: done right, investing isn’t the same as gambling.

You’re saving so you can provide for your family’s long-term security.

That is the polar opposite of gambling.

My advice?

Invest — but do it via your boring-as-hell low-cost super fund. Do it via a regular, automatic direct debit. Never look at the balance. Only check it once a year when your statement comes in the post.

And keep repeating to yourself: I’m not gambling … I’m providing a better future for my family.

You Got This!

Scott

The Hangover

Hi Scott,

My daughter lives with her partner and three children in a property that I own. They have many bills and are unable to pay rent. Her partner is wasting his money on gambling and will not change — he has even stated that he wants to keep his head in the sand. How do I get him to grow up? I have given him your book and my daughter is trying hard and has since started part-time work. However, they have three car loans and have debt collectors visiting frequently. Help! I feel powerless.

Jenny

Hi Jenny

It must be horrible to see your daughter go through this.

Now I know you’re coming at it from a place of love, but giving her partner my book won’t help one bit.

Why?

Because it sounds like he’s in the grips of a gambling addiction. And, if that’s the case, giving him my book is like giving an alcoholic a Panadol for a hangover.

So, what can you do?

A couple of things:

First, as hard as this sounds, drop the judgement.

I’ve learnt to view people with gambling addictions the same way I view anyone with a serious illness.

“When will you grow up?!” is like asking someone with a mental illness “When will you be happy?!”

Him telling you that he “wants to keep his head in the sand” sounds like a reaction to feeling judged.

Trust me, he knows how bad it is.

Second, encourage both him and your daughter to see a financial counsellor. Ideally, it would be a specialist gambling financial counsellor (call Gamblers Help on 1800 858 858 for a referral).

However, if he’s not ready to get help, encourage your daughter to go on her own. Reason being, the debt collectors will not let up, but a financial counsellor will sort them out and stop the calls.

Finally, you’re doing an amazing job providing them with a roof over their head. Make sure they keep getting the basics: food, power and schoolbooks.

You say you feel powerless. Just remember, that’s probably how your son-in-law feels too.

Scott

The Gambler

Hi Scott,

My situation is complicated and I need your advice. I am in my early 40s and have been with my fiancé for seven years. We do not live together but have bought a block of land (in his name) and are building a house (in his name), and will move into this house together. I have contributed money to this, but my issue is that he has a gambling addiction that he is in denial about, and he lies and deceives me. He believes that it is his money and that I should not say anything. I am fearful I will lose everything.

Hayley

Hi Hayley,

Yes, your situation is complicated, but it has a simple -- though brutal -- answer: don’t marry an addicted gambler.

Your fiancé has a long road ahead of him, but he hasn’t even taken the first step -- admitting his problem. The alarm bells should be ringing in your head: he deceives you, and he believes your money is his, and you have no say over anything. It’s highly likely he’ll gamble the lot.

If I were in your shoes I’d do three things. First, lovingly and supportively explain to your fiancé that he needs to get help with his addiction -- or you’re leaving. Second, sit down with a financial counsellor (1800 007 007) and get their help in removing your name from any joint accounts you may have with him. Third, talk to a solicitor and see if there’s an option for getting a financial settlement … before he blows the lot.

Scott