I Was Rich, Now I Collect Cans For Cash

Hi Scott,

In 2022, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer and during treatment I was befriended online by someone who took full advantage of my vulnerability. Over the following months, I requested four withdrawals from my life savings totalling $190,000, and gave it to my online ‘friend’. My financial advisor signed off on all of them while I was undergoing five surgeries.

Now my wife and I survive on the pension. I collect cans for extra cash. I’ve raised an AFCA (Australian Financial Complaints Authority) complaint against my financial planner, citing lack of duty of care. But all they suggested is that I seek legal advice. Where was my advisor’s responsibility when a cancer patient was withdrawing his entire life savings? How does someone lose $190,000 during medical treatment without anyone asking questions? Any guidance would be appreciated.

Peter

Hi Peter,

I’m so sorry to hear about your ill health. You were under a heap of stress, which made you an easy pick for crooks. I’ve seen it over and over again. 

One woman I’ve helped had terminal brain cancer, and scammers swooped in and stole her entire insurance payout. It’s inhumane. 

Now, I don’t have all the details of your case. 

Maybe your advisor was negligent – that’s something a good financial negligence lawyer can dig into. But here’s the brutal truth: unless you’d formally lost legal capacity, your advisor wasn’t required to play Sherlock Holmes. Their job was to process your withdrawal requests. 

Peter, I know this is hard to hear, but it’s important: you made those transfers. But don’t beat yourself up: you were battling cancer and scammers at the same time – and these guys are better than your surgeon at extracting cash. 

What matters now is focusing on what you can do. I think it’s unlikely you’ll recover the money, but I strongly recommend talking to anti-scam agency IDCARE, who provide free counselling, and getting in touch with a Centrelink Financial Information Service Officer (FISO) to make sure you’re getting every government benefit you’re entitled to. 

Finally, please don’t carry the shame. That belongs to the scumbags who did this to you.

Scott

The ultimate fathers day present (free)

My wife Liz got the greatest gift from her dad … though at the time she thought it was the worst.

As a teenager, he’d wake her up before the sparrows on Sunday mornings to help run his vintage clothes stall at the markets. They barely made enough to cover their snacks, let alone to pay for the petrol home. 

At 13, she was embarrassed. At 14, she was annoyed. By 15, she realised it was not about selling clothes. It was his way of holding onto his little girl for just a bit longer before she grew up.

Then, just after she finished high school, Liz’s dad died.

He never saw her become the fiercely independent woman I met years later – the 24-year-old TV producer who owned her apartment, drove her own car, and had savings in the bank. No handouts. No man as part of her plan. Just grit, determination, and those quiet Sunday lessons about showing up, working hard, and backing yourself.

I never met my father-in-law, but I see his legacy in Liz every day. And as a dad myself, I get it. Those early market mornings weren’t about making money. They were about making sure his daughter would be okay when he was gone.

Because that’s our real job as fathers – to become the voice in their heads when they can no longer hear our actual voice.

Which brings me to the simplest Barefoot tradition for Father’s Day. It costs nothing, but becomes priceless. It’s called the Ultimate Father’s Day Present, and it beats anything you’ll buy at Bunnings.

If you’re lucky enough to still have your dad around, here’s what to do:

Open your phone.

Hit ‘record’.

Ask him:

• How did you meet Mum?

• What’s your best advice about money, life and happiness?

• What does being a dad mean to you?

• What are you most proud of?

• How would you like to be remembered?

That’s it. Five questions. Five minutes. One irreplaceable gift.

Every year, I hear from people whose dads are gone. They all say the same thing: that video became their most treasured possession.

So to all the dads out there – Happy Father’s Day. Your work matters more than you know.

And to everyone with a dad still here:

Don’t waste it. Hit record.

Tread Your Own Path!

Paying Off $90K Was Easy Compared to What Came Next …

Dear Scott,

Your book helped us clear $90,000 of debt – something we never thought possible. We stayed debt-free and felt like we’d made it. Then life hit hard: my husband had a serious workplace accident. Despite multiple spinal surgeries, he lives in constant pain and can’t work. We’re relying on his $120,000 TPD payout while a compensation claim drags on with no timeline.

Meanwhile, I lost my job, retrained, and started my own business doing work I love. But, between caregiving, kids and running a household, I’m stretched to breaking point. I still dream of owning a home, but I’m terrified about making this money last. We did everything right the first time, but life derailed us completely. How do we rebuild from here? I trust your guidance – even just a nudge in the right direction would mean everything.

Mary

Hi Mary, 

That sounds incredibly stressful. 

Right now, you’re down a main income earner and dealing with massive trauma. 

But let’s reframe this: just keeping everyone together, with food on the table and love in the house, is winning gold right now. In other words, take the pressure off yourself – you’re already winning. 

Having said that, here’s what I’d do: 

First, check what Centrelink benefits you’re eligible for. Your husband may qualify for Disability Support Pension, and you might get rent assistance and family tax benefits. Every bit helps.

Second, do a budget to see how far you can stretch the $120,000. Reframe that money as two to three years of breathing room while you wait for the compensation to come in. 

Third, while your husband can’t work, maybe he can help with the kids more so you can focus on growing your business.

Park the home-buying dream for now. You’re in survival mode, not house-buying mode. When your compensation comes through and your business grows, revisit it then. 

Finally, sometimes my job is simply to remind you how far you’ve come:

Imagine if you still had that $90,000 debt today. You’d be buried! 

This is a setback, not a life sentence. 

You’re down but you’re not out. You’ll be back – just wait and see.

Scott

Have I Already Gone Mad?

Hi Scott,

Nine months ago, I excitedly moved into my partner’s parents’ granny flat. The goal: save for a townhouse deposit in 12 months. I pay no rent and get along well with his parents, but, after 10 years of independence, this is huge. Plus, my commute is longer than ever. Now we’re approaching the 12-month mark and my partner is getting cold feet! Our townhouse goal has become “maybe we should stay as long as possible and buy a house instead”.

I know I’m lucky to be in this financial situation, and he says we should “take full advantage”, but I'm afraid I’ll go full crazy if I live with the in-laws much longer! I’ve sacrificed my independence and sanity for our shared goal, but now he’s moving the goalposts. What if property prices rise faster than we can save anyway? Are my fears valid or have I already gone mad?

Sia

Hi Sia,

You haven't gone mad ... though if you don’t get on the same page as your partner you might find yourself getting mad at him.

It sounds like you’ve already thought through how much longer you’d need to stay there to save up for a home, and you’ve ruled that out.

Your concerns are completely valid.

It’s not about the money; it’s about having your own space. You feel indebted to his parents, and that’s a heavy strain – day in, day out.

So here’s what I’d do:

I’d sit down and work out how much you need to comfortably buy the townhouse, including having some Mojo for the unexpected, so you can buy with confidence and not immediately become a postcode povvo.

Then, set a firm deadline: “Either we buy the townhouse when we reach ‘X figure’, or I’m moving out to rent.”

This is your first big test before you sign up to a 25-year mortgage:

Will he listen?

Scott 

My Dirtbag Sister

Hi Scott,

My sibling only contacts me when she needs money. A few years ago she lied about having no debts, then it came out she’d hocked her car.  

When I  questioned why she lied, she hung up and ghosted me. Eighteen months later she calls asking how I am, chats for two hours, then texts asking for a $308 loan.

She's addicted to debt – constantly hocking belongings and taking high-interest loans. I suspect gambling. She’s been to financial counselling but the pattern continues. I could give her $308, but I know I’d never hear from her again until the next crisis. This cycle has repeated my whole life. I want to help, but I believe lending money just enables her addiction. Please tell me I’m doing the right thing by saying no – I wish I could help but I think loans make it worse.

Lisa

Hi Lisa,

So ... you’re asking me for permission to not be manipulated?

Granted!

I hereby order you to put in place some boundaries that will help both you and your sister.

That two-hour ‘how are you?’ chat, followed by the $308 text, is textbook manipulation. It must make you feel like you’ve sucked on a lemon.

So, the next time your sister calls, grab some tequila and salt.

Here’s what I'd say:

“I love you, but I can’t lend you money anymore. It’s not helping either of us.”

Don’t get into a debate. ‘No’ is a complete sentence in this situation.

I get that you feel guilty because she’s family. It’s totally normal to feel empathy for your sister being in this situation. However, by giving her money you’re just enabling the bad behaviour and delaying her reaching rock bottom.

Sometimes the kindest thing is to let someone face the consequences of their choices.

Scott

How on earth did I get here?

"Bugger." 

The engine warning light lit up like a 2-cent pokie jackpot. 

Then our 4WD shuddered and lurched – kind of lurch you get when a barefoot dad stomps on Lego during a midnight dunny run. 

"Daddy, I'm scared!" wailed my daughter from the back seat. 

"We'll be fine," I lied, summoning my bravest Dad voice.

We were deep in the Never Never. The dash said 35 degrees.

My phone said no reception. 

As we crawled along the red dirt track, the only signs of civilisation were wrecked cars, abandoned and left for dead.

How did I get us here? 

Well, a few months earlier, my brother-in-law rang from a remote Indigenous community where he’d scored a teaching gig. “You should come visit,” he said. 

I punched it into Google Maps: 3,720 kilometres. Forty-five hours. 

"Driving? Hell no," said Liz – the handbrake in our household. 

And yet here we were. Two adults. Four kids. A camper trailer built for two. 

What was I thinking? 

I was thinking my kids live in a bubble – and sometimes it’s good to pop it. 

Eventually we limped into town – my diesel filter dirtier than my conscience for dragging the family out here – and our collective silence said more than words. 

The kids went to the local school for the week. They made friends. My footy-mad son reckons he saw some of the best players of his life. My daughter came home barefoot… because that’s what all the girls did. Kids are kids. 

Except these kids live in houses with up to twenty people. Often no beds. No fridge. Sometimes no front door. A place where hardly any adults work, black-market bottles of rum go for a grand, and the only shop sells frozen bread for fifteen bucks and milk for ten. 

None of this is their fault. Like my kids, they were born in one of the richest countries on earth – but their futures will be shaped by forces they never chose. 

Same sun. Same soil. Different worlds. 

Tread Your Own Path!

Why is my teen better at money than me?

Hi Scott,

I raised my daughter as a solo parent. She's turning 18 and heading to university - a great kid who's saved $8,000 from part-time work using Barefoot principles. She even donates to charity.

Meanwhile, I'm a financial disaster. I work full-time but spend every cent. No debt, but I can't build a Mojo. Something ALWAYS happens to derail it after four years of trying.

How did I successfully teach my daughter what I can't do myself? She's financially responsible at 18 while I'm still failing at the basics. The irony is killing me.

I feel ashamed that my teenage daughter has better money habits than I do. How do I change my mindset and behavior when I clearly know what to do but can't make myself do it?

Wendy

Hey Wendy,

Jackie Kennedy once said something wise:

“If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do well matters very much.”

Well, you nailed it. Your daughter’s a hard worker, a good saver, and a giver. Those aren’t just skills – they’re the character traits of a fine human being.

So here’s the question: if you’re such a financial mess, how did your daughter turn out so well? It’s because you modelled vulnerability and persistence. She saw you keep going, even when it was hard. That’s what stuck.

So after years of providing for your daughter, it’s your turn now. Here's the first thing I want you to do. Set up your Mojo account and fund it with $2,000. I don’t care how you get the money – sell stuff on Marketplace, cut every expense, work a weekend shift – just get that buffer in place so life stops derailing your plans.

Once you've got that sorted I want you to set up your buckets, and make sure your transfers happen the day you get paid. Make it automatic. We're not aiming for perfect here. Just get it done. Every little step is proof that you’re not a financial failure – in fact, you’re a damn good teacher.

Go Mumma go!

Scott

The Desperate Daughter

Hi Scott,

I'm writing in desperation about my elderly father. He's always been generous, helping family and friends out of debt, which usually ends in broken promises and damaged relationships. A younger "friend" entered his life just before he lost his partner. My father has given this person significant money and won't promise it's the end.  He's not cognitively impaired but is vulnerable and lonely. I'm 99% sure he's being taken advantage of. I'm worried about future care costs if his health deteriorates, but he thinks I only care about my inheritance - which is gutting. This behavior isn't technically illegal, but I can't watch him be swindled when he may need this money later. How do I protect him without ruining our relationship? Do we have any options when elderly parents are being financially exploited by "friends"?

Danielle

Hey Danielle,

This must eat you up inside. It looks a lot like financial elder abuse.

So you should tell him that, right?

Wrong.

Let’s take a shuffle in his shoes.

He thinks he’s being generous, independent, and in control. And he probably thinks you see him as old and vulnerable… and that you’re only sticking your nose into his business because you’re worried about your inheritance.

Here’s the brutal truth: if your dad is mentally competent, he has the right to spend his money however he wants, even if it breaks your heart.

So here’s what I’d say to him:

“Dad, you’ve always been so generous with people – it’s something I really admire about you. However, I worry that if you give away too much, you might not be able to afford help later on. And I know how important it is to you to never burden anyone.”

Depending on how that lands, you could suggest he sits down with a financial advisor or solicitor to review his affairs and ensure he’s set up to go the distance. That way, he’s hearing it from an independent professional, not just his daughter.

The key is to respect him, and let him know he’s in charge.

Because he is!

Scott

Heartless Bastards

Hi Scott,

I’m a single mum recovering from brain tumour surgery. I invested $50,000 with DB Wealth Institute and ABTcoin – my account shows $900,000 but I can’t withdraw anything. They’ve gone silent and I’ve maxed out my credit cards and borrowed from friends. Now two companies – CNC Intelligence and T&H Consulting – are offering ‘fund recovery’ services. Are they legitimate?  Who can actually help me get my money back?

Vanessa

Hi Vanessa,

I am so sorry.

You have lost all the money you put in, and you will not get it back.

I spoke to Dave Lacey, the head of registered cyber protection charity IDCARE, and he told me that, statistically, scam victims will lose more money after they realise they have been scammed than before realising it.

Why?

Because outfits like CNC intelligence are just the next step in the scam. Again, to be crystal clear: the people who contacted you to recover your funds are part of the same scam.

Don’t fall for it.

Vanessa, I want you to contact IDCARE on 1800 595 160. They can help with counselling, support, and cleaning up your digital life – everything but getting your money back.

Scott

why I’m wearing make up

"You look like you could do with a glow up," she said.

"A what?"

"Sit here," she hummed, studying my face.

I was about to walk on stage and speak to 1,000 mainly young women about money. This was definitely the weirdest financial talk I'd ever given – and I wasn't even on stage yet.

Welcome to MECCA, where the beauty business meets something much deeper: a CEO who actually gives a damn about her team’s financial futures.

Jo Horgan didn't just build one of the world's biggest beauty empires. She employs 7,000 people, 94% of them women, many in their first jobs. And she's cracked something most employers miss entirely: you can't expect financially stressed workers to thrive.

"If they're lying awake at night worried about rent, they can't give their best during the day," she told me backstage.

That's revolutionary thinking in corporate Australia. Most bosses think a pizza party and a motivational poster solve everything.

For too long, employers have treated financial stress like someone else's problem. Pay the salary, offer some vague "wellness" seminars, job done. Meanwhile, workers are drowning in a cost-of-living crisis with zero financial education from school.

But something's shifting. Smart employers are finally connecting the dots: financially confident workers are productive workers. Stressed workers cost more in sick days, turnover, and mistakes than any training program ever will.

This shift forced me to do something I hadn't done in seven years: create something entirely new.

The Barefoot Investor principles work everywhere – including the workplace. But here's the thing: most workers don't have time to read a whole book when they're stressed about money. They need bite-sized help that fits into their actual lives.

So, starting with MECCA I built a program specifically for employees – ten short video lessons and a full guided journal that tackle their biggest money fears, designed to fit into a coffee break. One small win each week to rebuild their financial confidence from the ground up.

Because here's what I've learned: when someone believes they're "hopeless with money," no amount of budgeting advice will stick. You have to change the script first.

Look, MECCA could have just stuck to lipstick and left their team members to figure out money on their own. Instead, they're doing something most companies won't: actually helping. The companies getting ahead of this aren't waiting for schools to fix financial literacy. They're stepping up.

Because here's what Jo understands: when your teams win with money, everybody wins.

Tread Your Own Path! 

 Photograph: Hugh Davies, Instagram: @hughdaviesphoto, LinkedIn: Hugh Davies 

The Problem with Your Barefoot Book

Dear Scott,

Eight years ago we were hiding our car from the repo man, had $80,000 in credit cards, faced foreclosure, and owed everyone including family. Our solution? Shove overdue notices in a drawer and hope they disappear. Fast forward: we’re debt-free, own our car, have $40,000 in Mojo, and no credit cards. We’ve reached Barefoot Step 4 (Buy Your Home) for the first time ever.

Here’s our dilemma. We live with my parents on their Gold Coast acreage, paying $400/week rent. Our plan: stay 15 years until the kids finish school, then buy a motorhome and travel while I work casually as a teacher. With current housing costs, should we still try buying our own home? Or should we skip Step 4 and boost our super to 15% instead? Eight years ago our biggest problem was financial disaster. Now it’s whether to buy a house or choose an alternative lifestyle. Without your books, we’d never have this ‘problem’.

Kylie

Hey Kylie,

Let’s stop for a moment and savour your success.

I hear rags-to-riches stories all the time. But yours is more impressive: you were drowning in debt and denial… then turned it around completely.

That takes an identity shift most adults never make. Well done.

And hats off to your parents too, who clearly helped you along the way. The key question now is: are they genuinely happy for you to stay another 15 years? And are you?

If you’re all good to stay put then there’s no pressing need to buy a house,

though you might consider buying an investment property. Regardless, here’s the thing: homeowners build up wealth by paying off their mortgage over time. If that’s not for you, then you’ll need to create that same discipline by funnelling your savings into super instead.

So I’d bump your super to 15%, and throw any extra savings in there too. Think of it as your mortgage payment – except it’s building your retirement fortress, not bricks and mortar.

That way, when your homeowner friends retire with paid-off houses, you’ll have a fat super balance to fund your motorhome adventures around the country.

Scott

My Kids Are Spoilt Brats

Hi Scott,

My 10- and 12-year-old girls get $20 a week pocket money but are always broke from buying canteen food. Their lunchboxes come back full while they spend money on overpriced school food.

I’ve tried everything: threatening reality checks about Gaza, offering $20 to wash cars (crickets), asking them to clean rooms (ignored). The Barefoot Jamjars feel ‘so 1956’ with modern ungrateful kids. Modern kids need to see value for their effort almost daily. Traditional methods like car washing and dog walking don’t capture their attention anymore.

I’m even reducing their grapes by one for each grape that comes back uneaten, hoping they’ll eventually come home hungry and complain. What modern strategies actually work for teaching money and food values to entitled kids? Society says we can’t smack sense into them – so what’s the answer?

Dad of Spoiled Brats

Hi Dad,

Stop blaming your kids.

Seriously. If they’re spoilt brats, you’re the one who set up the conditions for them to rot.

The first line of your email answered your question:

You hand your kids $20 a week.

It’s not pocket money if they snub their noses at cleaning their rooms or doing anything for it …  it’s a princess payment!

You say “modern kids need to see value for their effort almost daily. Traditional methods like car washing and dog walking don’t capture their attention anymore”.

Yeah, nah. 

People don’t value money they don’t work for. You’re handing them cash, then getting annoyed because they don’t value it. The kids are acting perfectly normally.

Here’s what I’d do if I were in your dad running shoes:

Stop the handouts. Completely. Throw them a loaf of bread and some Vegemite and tell them to make their own school lunches. That’s what I do with my kids.

Then wait. 

Eventually they’ll want to buy something. That’s when you start the conversation about working for money – or, better yet, starting their own Barefoot business. It may take a while. That’s okay. Your job is to teach them that money comes from working.

Finally, let me leave you with this:

Nearly every parent worries their kids are spoilt brats. It’s natural – our kids are growing up with more than we ever had. But, if you treat them with respect and put the right boundaries and incentives in place, they may just surprise you.

Stop making excuses. Stop blaming your kids. Start being the parent they need – not the ATM they want!

Scott

Wally retires

Twenty years ago I had a meeting with a book publisher.

It turned out to be one of the luckiest days of my professional life.

Not because they gave me a book deal, or good advice …

“You write in one sentence paragraphs … it’s just horrible” the publisher said, screwing up his nose. 

(Still do!)

No, it was because he hated my writing so much that they paired me with his best editor, Wally, in the hope he could polish a turd.

We clicked – Wally (unlike the publisher) got my style straightaway – and we’ve been working together ever since.

Life comes at you fast. Back then, Wally was roughly the age I am now, living the dad taxi life. This year he officially retired … and now I’m in the driver’s seat, doing the school pick-ups.

In the lead up to his retirement we’ve spent quite a bit of time simplifying his portfolio, lowering his fees, and ensuring he has three years of living expenses at hand to ride out any Trump slumps.

However, we’ve devoted even more time to avoiding what I think is the biggest mistake retirees make … and it has nothing to do with money.

Most people spend years making sure they’ve got enough superannuation to never work another day in their life. Yet they don’t spend a single day planning what they’re actually going to do.

I remember my old mate, former Deputy Prime Minister Tim Fischer, telling me before he retired: “I’ve spent the last 12 months preparing for my retirement.”

“Surely you’d be on a good pollie pension”, I joked.

He gave me that classic Tim stare. “I’m not talking about finances, Scott. You need to treat your retirement like it’s a full-time job.”

At the time, I thought he was being cute.

But Tim was never cute. He was wise. And he was dead right.

I’ve had thousands of conversations with retirees, and I can tell you the happiest ones are not those with the biggest SMSF balance – they’re the ones with purpose and a plan:

Monday morning, 9am. What’s in your diary? 

Someone once said that when blokes retire they default to the ‘3Gs’: golf, gardening and grandchildren. The problem is that none of these are full-time pursuits. (And, as the owner of four energetic grandkids, I can confirm they’re best enjoyed casually, not part time.)

Tim had it right: treat retirement like a job – just one with unlimited holidays and no annoying colleagues (well, apart from your co-CEO spouse). 

This week Wally returned from his first official tour of duty as a retiree: four weeks in Venice, eating gelato with the rest of the Aussie boomers.

“I read this book called The Barefoot Investor on the plane”, he told me.

“Go on”, I said.

“And apparently one of the riskiest things a retiree can do is to completely turn off the income tap”, he said. “Besides, your columns still need a bit of polish”, he said.

Tread Your Own Path!

P.S. SCAM ALERT

In just a few days, 1,200 people have been tricked by a fake me on Facebook.

They’re running a “pig butchering” scam — fattening you up with fake trading tips on WhatsApp before stealing your money.

If you see my face promising easy money… it’s a butcher in disguise.

Don’t click. Don't like. And if this page pops up in your feed, please do me (and a lot of others) a favour — report it.

My Husband was Fearless

Hey Scott,

My husband was an avid follower of yours, and with his passing last year I was so glad we had put together our Fearless Folder (after you wrote about it in your book years ago). Through the grief and stress, that one simple act stood out:  everything I needed was there: passwords, accounts, emails, solicitor details… all safely stored in our fireproof safe. At such a traumatic time, I can’t recommend this enough. Just being organised and prepared made an enormous difference. It was brilliant. Thanks again, Scott.

Wendy

Hi Wendy,

I’m so sorry for your loss. It sounds like your husband’s fearlessness gave you strength, even in the toughest moment of your life.  And thank you for sharing this… you’ve probably convinced more people to get their act together than I ever could.

Scott

New Mum is Ghosted and Gutted

Hi Scott,

I’ve been trying to sell an investment property since early 2024. A buyer came through, signed everything, and I was told the contract was unconditional. But they only paid $1,000, not a real deposit, and kept stalling on settlement. Weeks dragged into months. The tenants moved out, so we were bleeding money with zero rent, still paying the mortgage.

So I found a lawyer, despite the expense – I just couldn’t watch that nasty person walk away free. Well, the lawyer couldn’t even verify the buyer. The name was ‘Jenny Tren’, but there was no ID on file and no way to trace her. We couldn’t sue. I’ve copped thousands in losses – two advertising campaigns, legal fees, settlement costs, months of mortgage repayments – and relentless stress. I’m giving birth to my second baby next week, and I’m still lying awake at 5am thinking about this mess. Who do I speak to? Can I track this ghost?

A furious, sleep-deprived mum-to-be

Hello Mum-to-be,

Bloody hell, what a mess.

No wonder you’re awake at 5am. You’ve been screwed around by amateurs who couldn’t sell a sandpit.

Seriously, a thousand bucks down and no ID? It sounds like your real estate agent thought they were flogging a Labradoodle on Gumtree, not handling a property sale.

Now most property sales require a 10% deposit. It’s not just a tradition, it’s a form of protection: if the buyer bails, you keep the cash. But in your case they vanished into thin air and left you holding the bill.

Something stinks here, and it’s your agent who stepped on the turd. 

Here’s my advice. Have your lawyer ask the agent for a full written statement: specifically, how they vetted the buyer, why they let that tiny deposit slide, and why no ID was ever collected. If they are found negligent, the agent’s professional indemnity insurance may cover your losses.

Good luck with the new bub. This is one dirty nappy that you don’t have to change. It’s their mess – make them clean it up!

Scott

I Make $180K but I Hate My Life. Should I Quit?

atomic habits meets the barefoot investor

“I’ve got a surprise for you”, said my old boss, who was over for lunch at the farm.

He’d been cleaning out his garage earlier that week and found something he thought I’d want to see.

He pulled out a cassette tape with “Barefoot Investor Episode 1” scribbled in Sharpie – a recording of my very first university radio show. And he’d even bought a cassette player from the local op shop so we could all listen to it.

My eldest held the cassette like a relic from another age, while my youngest poked at the Sanyo stereo, completely baffled. So I grabbed his little finger and pressed it down on the plastic play button. My voice crackled through the tiny tin speakers.

We all listened to the show. It was rough around the edges. Somewhat juvenile. But the real kicker? It was the same advice I’m giving now, almost 25 years later:

Live below your means. Pay yourself first. Don’t go into debt for stuff that loses value. Invest in low-cost funds and stay the course.

Same then. Same now. Same in another 25 years.

So, if the advice is timeless, here’s the real question:

Why the hell am I still doing it?

And, more to the point, why isn’t everyone rich?

Because, even though the advice does not change, the person hearing it does need to change – and what needs to change is how they see themselves.

Most people are stuck trying to be good with money. Wrestling with it. Fighting their nature. Relying on willpower and weekend motivation. That’s exhausting.

So how do you actually change?

James Clear, author of the multi-million-selling Atomic Habits, nails it:

“True behaviour change is identity change.”

Without realising it, my own bestselling book helped people do exactly this.

Within a few pages, people were sitting down with a glass of wine and switching to a better bank account. Basic? Maybe. But for many, it was their first good money decision ever.

And every time they opened their wallet that little Orange card reinforced the belief that they were good with money. Once they took on that belief and kept working through the steps, their confidence grew.

As James Clear also says:

“Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become.”

The beautiful thing about that crackling cassette tape? It reminded me that good money advice is timeless. It doesn’t need updating, revolutionising or disrupting. It just needs someone willing to become the person who follows it.

So, who are you becoming?

Tread Your Own Path!

Where Are They Now?

Hi Scott,

You won’t remember me, but 12 years ago I reached out to you, desperate for help. I had made a bad property investment and then found out I was pregnant. You reached out and personally called me. I was a single mother, struggling both financially and emotionally as I prepared for the birth of my baby girl. 

I did the hard yards. I read your book, worked my arse off, and followed your advice. I’ve often thought about writing to thank you, but kept waiting for the ‘perfect time’, which of course never comes. But your words were true: “You will come out stronger, even though you don’t think you will”. And now I have hard-won lessons I can pass on to my daughter.

Thank you for everything

Kim

Hi Kim

Ahhh, you got me! (Or perhaps it’s the hay I’m feeding to the sheep that’s getting in my eyes.)

Congratulations on all your hard work, and for sticking at it – I’m really proud of you.

Here’s to all the hardworking Barefooters out there who are  slogging away in silence, paying down debts, building up their Mojo, and creating a better life for their kids. 

You’re changing your family tree, and leaving a legacy that’s worth much more than money.

Scott

The Controlling Husband?

Hi Scott,

I'm a father of three (ages 9, 5, and 1) who handles all our family finances. My wife has no interest in finances or managing household money, which leads to arguments and stress over large purchases.

I’m working hard to future-proof our family – extra mortgage payments, super contributions, investing for the kids’ education and housing – but I’m doing it alone.

Your recent email about financially controlling relationships hit home. I don’t want to be that person, but I’m scared about what happens if something unfortunate occurs – illness, death, or family changes. My wife would be completely unprepared.

How do I engage my wife in our financial planning without being controlling? I need her involved for two reasons: so she’s protected if something happens to me, and because major financial decisions shouldn’t be mine alone.

Graham

Hey Graham,

Our wives must be kindred ‘don’t give a toss about money’ cousins.

My wife, Liz, couldn’t care less about investments, super balances, or how many books I’ve sold. Her eyes glaze over. She’s far more focused on what I call ‘Liz-gistics’ – the daily do-or-die mission of keeping our four kids alive and at footy practice.

The truth is, my entire Buckets and Date Night system was born because Liz (my fiancée at the time) didn’t care about money. I thought, “if I can come up with a way to keep us on the same page, that’s a win”. 

So … I bribed her. Garlic bread, wine, the Romsey pub – 20 minutes talking money before dessert. That was our deal. These days, the finances part takes about five minutes, and the rest is us ignoring our phones and eating too much pasta.

But here’s the kicker.

Once a year, I sit Liz down and take her through the Fearless Folder. That one sticks. She’s overheard too many distraught widows on the phone with me who didn’t know who their husband’s super was with, let alone how to access it.

She still doesn’t want the details, and that’s fine. But she deserves to feel safe and confident that if something happens to me she won’t be left in the dark.

So here’s my challenge for you this week:

Write a letter to your wife – the letter you will attach to the Fearless Folder that she’ll read if you’re not here.

Pour your heart out – what you love about her, what you hope for the kids, and why you did everything you did to protect them. That letter will put everything into perspective for you, and it will cut through to her in a way dollar figures never will.

Then, book a Date Night. Pour her favourite wine. Tell her you’re not trying to control her – you just want her to be okay, no matter what happens. Show her the Fearless Folder. Read her your letter.

She’ll get it.

More than that, I think she’ll feel deeply loved.

Scott

The controlling husband

Picture this.

A car comes out of nowhere and hits you head-on. You don’t stand a chance. You die at the scene.

Two weeks later, your partner is slumped at the kitchen table, sobbing. They’re surrounded by unopened bills, funeral invoices, superannuation forms they don’t understand, and your locked phone buzzing with random Facebook messages from people you barely knew.

They’re grieving. Exhausted. Overwhelmed. And now they have to deal with all this … crap.

I’ve seen it happen over and over again. Someone dies unexpectedly, and their partner and/or kids are left scrambling – trying to find a will, bank accounts, funeral wishes. Some can’t even access enough money to pay for the funeral upfront.

Brutal. And completely avoidable.

So I want you to answer me this one simple question: 

If you really love your family, would you leave them a mess like that?

That’s why I created what I call the Fearless Folder.

It’s a simple folder – digital or physical – that holds everything your family needs if you die unexpectedly.

Not just your will, but all the small but vital stuff that turns grief into hell if it’s missing:

• Your will. Don’t have one? Get it done this month with a lawyer (not a will kit).
  

• Powers of Attorney. So someone can act for you if you’re mentally or physically incapacitated.
  

• Superannuation binding nominations. Your will doesn’t cover your super.
  

• A list of bank accounts and investments.
  

• Login details – email, bills, banking, social media – so your executor isn’t locked out.
  

• Funeral instructions. Cremation or burial? Simple or elaborate? Write it down.
  

• A final message. A short letter telling your family how much you love them.
  

Some keep their Fearless Folder in a fireproof safe at home, with a spare key given to their executor. Others set up a dedicated email address with everything scanned and stored securely, with instructions on how to access it.

Best practice? 

Do both. Originals in a bolted safe. Scans in a dedicated estate email with two-factor authentication (via an app, rather than SMS). And tell your executor exactly where everything is.

Look, death is a morbid topic. But ignoring it won’t stop it from happening. It just turns your final act of love into an unintentional act of cruelty.

We spend hours planning a holiday. Weeks researching a car. Yet we won’t spend a couple of hours making sure the people we love most aren’t left sorting out a bureaucratic nightmare while grieving.

Now, picture this.

Your partner walks to your study, grabs a key from the top of your bookshelf, and unlocks your fireproof safe. They see a folder labelled: ‘Fearless Folder – Everything in One Place’.

They open it. The first page reads: 

“I love you so much that I’ve prepared this for you. It has everything you need to manage my passing.”

They flick through it. Everything’s there. Then they read your final message … and the tears come.

That’s what real love looks like.

Tread Your Own Path!