This Will Get Me in Trouble

Today’s column is brought to you by short-term lender MoneyMe.

Look, I’ve been writing this column for 21 years. 

And this week I received the most tone-deaf, predatory PR pitch I’ve ever encountered.

MoneyMe’s public relations company sent me a press release, clearly wanting me to write a heartwarming story about a Brisbane couple who spent $92,000 on wedding celebrations, funded in part by a MoneyMe personal loan.

Here was their pitch:

Subject: Brisbane bride’s $90K+ double wedding made possible by MoneyMe personal loan! 

Hi Scott,

A Brisbane business manager has shared how she made her dream weddings a reality at 62, while navigating the rising costs of modern celebrations. Tanya says she doesn’t do things by halves. After a year-long engagement tour, two weddings, and two honeymoons, the celebrations cost her and husband Bruce around $92,000. 

“I’ve definitely felt the impact of the cost-of-living crisis. We spent more than we imagined … but we wouldn’t trade the memories for anything.” For their honeymoon, they spared no expense, spending around $38,000 travelling through Italy, Spain, and Bali.

The pitch came complete with selfies and a That’s Life-style backstory of the fairytale romance of Tanya and Bruce. (I’ve chosen to change their names and not use their photos.) These poor bastards are being pimped out as promotional props for a loan shop.

Yet here’s where it gets gross. 

Enter MoneyMe CEO Clayton Howes: “With cost-of-living pressures, personal loans are helping some Australians hold onto life’s important moments without compromising their financial stability.”

Read that again. Old clanger is claiming high-interest loans during a cost-of-living crisis don’t compromise financial stability!

Uh-huh.

Something old. Something new. Something borrowed (5.99% to 26.99% p.a., $495 establishment fee, $10 monthly fee), and something blue … actually that's year two.

But MoneyMe are smart marketers. They’ve ticked corporate responsibility boxes, snaffling a B Corp certification – a sustainability credential demonstrating commitment to social impact. So, they're using "positive impact" language while encouraging people into debt for celebrations they can't afford. 

Look, there ain't anything sustainable or socially impactful about taking out a MoneyMe loan.

It's the same debt it always was, except now it comes with a B Corp badge and some feel-good language about 'financial inclusion'.

It's like how every processed food now screams 'Contains Protein!' as if that makes it nutritious. The product hasn't changed - just the marketing. It's still the same ultra-processed crap designed to clog your financial arteries while making someone else rich.

The pitch ends with Tanya saying: “The loan gave us the freedom to say 'yes' to the fun and memories, without the anxiety.”

No, Tanya. The anxiety comes later. When you're making those repayments. When the interest compounds. When “manageable” monthly payments stretch on for years.

Financial counsellors tell me MoneyMe can often be a nightmare to deal with when clients get into trouble. Worse than the banks. And while MoneyMe claims to be a financial 'disrupter' taking it to the banks, their share price sits at …

11 cents. 

They're not disrupting anything - they're just a penny stock with a big marketing budget.

I genuinely feel for this couple. They seem lovely. But MoneyMe knew exactly what they were doing, packaging this story for journalists. 

Beware what you wish for.

Tread Your Own Path!

Convince me not to take out a 30k car loan

G'day Scott,

Convince me not to take out a 30k car loan.

My 2012 Hyundai is on its way out. It's been a great first car, but it's time for a new one. Now I reckon you'll tell me to hold onto the junk car longer, save up, and buy a reliable second-hand beater while saving for something nicer down the track.

My question: wouldn't that cost me more in the long run?

I've found a great low-interest variable secured loan (People's Choice Credit Union) and can afford the fortnightly repayments over 4 years while still saving comfortably and contributing to all those accounts you "made" me set up.

My income is $80k (and will only go up) working in defence. No other loans, repayments, or financial burdens whatsoever. I plan to pay the loan back early (lower fortnightly repayments let me save more to reinvest into the loan if no unexpected expenses pop up).

So go on Scott, maybe taking on a little loan now and then isn't such a bad idea? ;)

Trent

Hey Trent,

My standard take on cars is that you should always buy the cheapest car your ego can afford.

(Which is why so many influencers drive around in leased Lambos).

Fun fact: I once gave my speaking manager a lift to a gig in my ute. She was shocked when she saw it ”I thought you’d drive a Tesla … or something ‘nice”.  Still, when she jumped in  my 1980s inspired wool seat covers totally won her over.

It’s the ultimate anti-flex dude!

Okay, let’s run the numbers.

Let’s say you buy a vanilla slice Hyundai for $30k.

After four years the total repayments are $36,000 (so you’re paying $1,500 a year in interest).

Fast forward four years, and what’s it worth?

According to Redbook, it’ll be worth around $21,000 on the private market (which is actually bloody good as far as new car depreciation goes).

Not so fast. Let’s pull on the handbrake Trent!

This little four year roundtrip has burned $15,000!

You paid $36,000 and now own a $21,000 car …  that is rapidly falling in value.

That’s brutal.

And all for a car that you’d lose in a Kmart parking lot because EVERYONE ELSE HAS ONE.

Yet it’s your money dude! 

So to your question: what would I do?

Well, as long as the car was mechanically sound, I’d keep it, and put your money towards three things:

A house deposit. 

An adventurous holiday you’ll look back on  when you’re in your 50s and smile.

And some woolen seat covers. Seriously man, they’ll keep you cool in summer, and toasty in winter.

Oh, and a $3 bumper sticker that says: ‘Honk if you’re still making payments’.

Scott

My Dead Bros Debts

Dear Scott,

Three weeks ago, my younger brother died. He’d been living in an aged care home for mentally ill people run by St. Vincent’s hospital in Melbourne. Now they’ve sent me a bill for $12,000 in unpaid accommodation costs. I have never signed to take responsibility for him.  In fact his money affairs are handled by state trustees. As his elder sister, do I have to pay this debt?

Jenny

Hi Jenny,

I’m really sorry for your loss.

That’s junk mail: you are not liable for your brother’s debts.

Forward it on to the State Trustees, who can pay it if there is any money in his estate.

If there’s not, it will be written off.

Scott

My Drug Addict Little Sister Needs My Help

Scott,

I’m trying to help my 23-year-old sister get back on her feet after a drug problem that’s cost her her relationships, her apprenticeship, and her confidence. 

She has got about $10,500 owing on a car loan that’s gone to debt collectors, a $1,100 Optus bill also with collectors, another $900 to Repco, and roughly $4,000 in speeding fines and court fees.

She’s not working right now but picks up a bit of cash from odd jobs. I’m hoping that if I help her get through this, she’ll start taking responsibility, rebuild her self-respect, and maybe find her way back into the workforce.

Our parents have moved interstate to distance themselves. I’m 35, run my own business, have a family, and no debt.

Any advice?

Sarah

Hi Sarah,

This isn’t a money problem, it’s a drug problem.

Your sister has an illness, and the symptoms are her debts. The drugs are the cause.

Everything starts with her ongoing recovery.

My advice?

Do not pay off her debts. 

You’re just enabling her behaviour. You may as well buy her drugs!

So what should you do?

Give her the number of the National Debt Helpline 1800 007 007, and ask for an appointment to go and see a financial counsellor in her area. You might even go with her to provide moral support. 

The Financial Counsellor may find that the debts are no longer enforceable (they’re statute barred), or that her personal situation and lack of money is such that her lenders won’t be able to recover anything from her anyway (well, except the court fines, they stick).

Doing this gives your little sister some agency and control over her own life. 

My view?

I don’t think the money she owes is a big issue. It’ll sort itself out eventually. You’re a very important person in her life right now, and just being there for her recovery is the most valuable thing you can do for your little sister. Ultimately the choice is up to her.

Good luck.

Scott

Wait, 300k Qantas points are worth how much?

"The mortgage wars are back — and banks are bribing you with everything from Qantas points to cash", read the front page of the newspaper this week.

Hmmm. Really?

Look, I've been doing this job for way too long, so let me give it to you straight:

With rates falling, and property prices heating up (thanks in part to Albo loading first home buyers into the 5% deposit mincer), the banks want to write more mortgages.

CBA hit the front page with an offer of 300,000 Qantas Frequent Flyer Points. Which sounds amazing ... until you realise that 300,000 points is worth, at best, $3,000 (or at worst, a TV on the Qantas rewards website).

Meanwhile, ANZ and others are just offering cold hard cash — $2,000 to $4,000 — to lure new customers away from brokers and through their own doors.

So what's really going on? Picture the big four banks as my older kids in a backyard wrestle, confident, established, used to winning. Then along comes Macquarie Bank, (played by my scrappy 4 year old son who doesn't play by the rules).

And right now? Macquarie is winning, signing up a staggering 4 in 10 new mortgages.

How?

Well, they've worked out that customers don't want complexity, they want simple applications, transparent pricing, and fast approvals. (They're doing the same with their banking and high-interest savings accounts, offering some of the sharpest deals around).

Yet here's the thing: Macquarie didn't get the nickname the "Millionaires Factory" by playing nice forever. Once they’ve got you pinned, they’ll go straight for your crown jewels — in this case, by jacking up the rates.

So what does that leave us Barefooters?

Well, according to ASIC's MoneySmart, right now the average home loan for owner-occupiers is 5.68%. If you're paying more than that (and you're in decent financial shape) you should be able to negotiate a better deal and save at least a few grand.

So the next time you find yourself on the throne, open your bank app and check your rate. If you're paying over the odds, find the negotiation script in my book (it's generally found in most Aussie bathrooms), or just get ChatGPT to write you one.

Now that's a royal flush.

Tread Your Own Path!

Should I Take Out Identity Theft Insurance?

Hi Scott,

I’ve been listening to an American money podcast, and they are always pushing the importance of ID theft insurance. Given how prevalent scams and identity theft are at the moment, would you suggest we take out this insurance, and, if so, could you provide a recommendation for us Aussies?

Manisha

Hi Manisha,

You're right to be worried: scams are completely off tap right now.

And insurance companies have a knack of working out what our darkest fears are and then turning them into incredibly expensive products that make them lots of money (and they often market them on podcasts!). 

Let me be clear: I do not recommend identity fraud insurance, extended warranty insurance, or moustache insurance (apparently cricket legend Merv Hughes once insured his soup strainer for $370,000).

Why not?

Because identity theft insurance won’t cover the stuff that actually gets people – falling for romance scams, getting tricked into ‘verifying’ your bank details, sending money to a fake Tax Office. They’re all scams, and no insurance policy will cover them.

Yet it is true that insurance will cover identity theft.

However, if someone steals your identity and takes out a loan in your name, Australian banks and credit providers are required to prove you authorised it. They usually can’t, so you don’t have to pay anyway.

Okay, so what can you do to protect yourself from identity theft?

First, shred any personal documents you don’t need, and lock up the ones you do need.

Second, monitor your credit file, which is where the fraud will show up first.

(Admittedly keeping tabs on this is a giant pain in the arse, because your data is spread across two competing credit agencies, Equifax and Experian, who sell your data to the banks. Legally you have the right to check your credit file for free, so do it!)

Third, in your banking app, set up transaction alerts anytime money moves. 

These three things are better and cheaper than insuring your moustache, right Manisha?

Scott

Trust Fund Kids Blow Up

Scott,

I’m 72 and have had hard-won success in business. I’ve got four adult kids aged between 23 and 35. They’ll inherit around $80 million when I die, but none of them are serious about money. My son lost $100,000+ on crypto. My eldest has been in and out of rehab. My daughter wants me to fund a fashion label, despite having zero business experience.

I love my kids, but I was too busy making money. I thought they’d learn through osmosis. Clearly not. I don’t want to rule from the grave, but I’m terrified they’ll blow it all within a few years of me being gone. Yet, if they could be convinced, they could grow the pie and live off it forever. My question is, should I hand it over to advisors to work with them now?

Anonymous

Hi Anonymous,

If you hand it to advisors to manage, there’s a good chance they’ll be sacked the day after your funeral. I’ve seen it happen. Your kids will fire their financial babysitter the first chance they get.

They’re like lotto winners. What they really need to learn is how to keep the money they didn’t earn, and that’s a skill very few trust fund kids ever master.

Take Cornelius Vanderbilt. In the 1800s he built one of the world’s great fortunes, worth roughly $200 billion in today’s money, and warned his kids not to blow it. Within a few generations they’d built mansions bigger than hotels and couldn’t afford the plumbing bills. By their 1973 family reunion, not one was even a millionaire.

That’s the curse of unearned wealth. It doesn’t just get spent badly, it often destroys the people who inherit it.

I don’t know your kids. Maybe your daughter will build the next Zimmermann, and maybe your son has learned his crypto lesson. But history says the odds aren’t good.

So here’s what I’d do.

I’d buy each child a modest home, say up to $1.25 million including stamps. That gives them security, but they still have to get out of bed to pay the rates. That’s $5 million total, which is life changing, but not life ruining.

Then I’d make your real legacy the next decade. Spend time mentoring them. Get them involved in your business, fund their study, have them run small charitable projects, maybe even that fashion label, but with you watching closely.

After that, leave the rest to a cause you care about. You could involve your kids in it, but tread carefully. I’ve met plenty of trust fund kids who resent giving away what they see as their money.

Warren Buffett put it best: “A very rich person should leave his kids enough to do anything, but not enough to do nothing.”

The hardest financial lesson for your kids isn’t learning about compound interest. It’s that choices have consequences. And that’s a lesson money can’t buy.

Scott

Buy Me a Pony

I knew this day was coming … and yet I still wasn't prepared.

“Daddy, I really, really want a pony”, said my seven-year-old, batting her eyelids at me, a mirror image of my wife.

“There is absolutely NO WAY we are getting a glorified Gucci goat!” I said confidently to myself.

However, for some strange reason I heard myself saying, “Orr-right, let’s have a look on Gumtree”.

After all, we have sheep, cattle, alpacas, chooks, cats, dogs, and four kids — what’s the harm in adding a wombat on stilts to the mix?

The first listing was a Shetland pony named Trixie. The price? “Free to a good home.”

That was the first red flag.

Trixie looked a lot like Grandad after two horsey laps around the lounge with my four-year-old on top.

When I told my personal assistant Kathryn about my daughter’s pony project, she squealed with delight.

Kathryn is a ‘horsey person’. Whenever I ask her about her weekend, she invariably talks about her show pony, which (as far as I can tell) is like toddlers in tiaras but with horses.

However, her smile quickly faded when I showed her Trixie.

“A good pony will cost you $10,000”, she said, screwing up her nose.

“Well, that's not so …”, I began.

“Plus you’ll need to spend around $1,500 a year on pellets and lucerne. You’ll also need a farrier to trim its feet every six weeks, plus an annual teeth check, vaccines, wormers – let's call it $2,500 a year.”

“Okay, but if we just …”, I tried.

“... and you'll need a saddle, a bridle, and of course a horse float to drive it to the pony club. But these are all things you can get on Gumtree … allow, say, $10,000.”

“This is soooo exciting, boss!" she said, clapping her hands and beaming.

“Yes it is, Kathryn!” I replied, watching my wallet gallop off into the sunset.

And that’s when I had a thought that made me feel like I’d dodged a kick in the goolies from Trixie: 

Instead of dropping $25,000 on a commitment that eats, poops, and needs its teeth filed (heck, I already have four kids), I’ll hire Kathryn's pony for my daughter to ride any weekend she wants, for $100 a trot.

My daughter gets her pony fix, Kathryn earns some extra hay money, and I don't have to explain to my accountant why ‘pony maintenance’ is now a line item in our budget.

Win-win.

Giddyup!

Tread Your Own Path!

Winning the Money Game

Dear Scott,

I've been a Barefoot investor since my husband and I read your book 12 years ago. I'm grateful we followed your steps to get where we are now. We have $39K left on our $1.2m house and will pay it off within 12 months, at ages 43 and 44.

Here's my problem: My father was a gambler and not responsible with money. I still have baggage when it comes to taking risks to grow wealth.

I have $330K in super, as does my husband, but I'm scared to switch to high growth. It makes sense - I want to grow our wealth - yet I'm not brave enough to make even that small decision.

We donate regularly and plan to leave a legacy (Step 9) but I'm not sure how. I also want to set up investment bonds for my two children and maybe buy an investment property. But I'm reluctant to commit to any of it.

How do I let go of the hesitant voice in my head? I've created my own financial literacy, but I'm paralysed by my father's baggage. What's your advice for someone who has "planted" but is struggling to "grow" and "harvest"?

Linda

Hi Linda,

Sometimes we learn from our parents about what NOT to do with money. Your father's gambling drove you to focus on safety and security – which is why my book resonated. We're the same: safety first.

Here's what you need to hear: you've won the money game.

You're 43, about to own a $1.2m house outright, with $660K in combined super. Your kids are growing up with parents who don't fight about money, who can take a day off for school sports. That's your legacy right now. That's Step 9.

And here's the difference between your father's gambling and switching your super to High Growth: Your father bet on unpredictable outcomes he couldn't control. High growth super delivers 20+ years of compound interest by making you a part-owner in the world's most successful businesses. You're not punting it on the pokies. There's no shady hot tips. Linda, it's the exact opposite of what your dad did.

I plugged your numbers into Moneysmart's calculator: moving from Balanced to High Growth could boost your super by $200,000 each (which I think is actually quite conservative but, hey, it's the Government's calculator).

If I were in your shoes I'd max out your super contributions (best tax deduction going), keep a solid Mojo account, and, if you want to invest for the kids, set up a family trust and buy low-cost index funds each month.

Yet here's what matters more: In twenty years, you'll look back at this moment … and give anything to be back here. Don't spend these years paralysed with fear. Go travelling. Take time off. You've earned it. Now's the time for your victory lap, while your kids still want to take it with you.

Scott

ING Sucks … Right?

Hey Scott,

I have been with ING for a long time and they have been reasonably good to me. However, it seems like they have aspirations to become like the Big Four and bastardise their products. Who do you think is a good alternative to ING in 2025?

Lenny

Hey Lenny,

You are 100% right.

The "little orange card that could" started out simple and generous: park your cash, earn a solid rate, no fees. We loved them because they weren't like the others.

But bankers will banker. Just like my dog Lucky has an instinct to herd anything that moves, bankers have an instinct to turn your money into their money. They look at customer deposits and think: "If we just shave a bit off the rate, add a few conditions, most people won't notice … and we'll make millions more this quarter."

That's what ING has done. Same with UP Bank. For years UP was brilliant – cool technology, no fees, even "happy hour" cash giveaways on Friday nights. Then Bendigo's bankers saw the numbers, and they got UP their customers!

That's the playbook. Every. Single. Time.

So what's the answer? 

Stop looking for "the one" and start playing the field. I don't stay loyal to any bank anymore, and neither should you. My cash is split between high-interest online savers (whoever's tarting themselves up with the best rate) and listed cash ETFs I buy through no-cost brokers.

The trick is staying nimble. When a bank tightens the screws, you move your money.

Scott

ING Sucks … Right?

I was sitting on the tractor when my phone beeped.

“You’re all over my feed!” texted my mate.

He’d sent a Facebook post with a picture of me and Albo and the line: 

“Barefoot blasts Albo! I’ll bet my sheepdog's left testicle it's wrong."

Woof!

There were 1,900 comments. Struth!

So, in the interest of balance, this week I'll answer a question from Tim, who thinks I'm a complete and utter moron.

5% Deposits Are GOOD, You Moron!

Scott,

I've been reading your column for years and I think you've finally lost the plot. You're bagging Albo's 5% deposit scheme like it's some sort of scam, but here's what I don't get: I've got $35k saved for a $700k house. You're telling me I should wait YEARS to save up $140k for a 20% deposit? By then, house prices will have shot up another 20-30% and I'll be completely priced out. Meanwhile, my rent keeps going up and my landlord just sold the place out from under me.

The way I see it, this government scheme is my only shot at getting into the market before it's too late. But, according to the Barefoot Investor sitting in his paid-off mansion, I should just keep renting and “save harder”. Easy for you to say, mate. So why don't you explain to me how waiting years to save more money, while watching house prices run away from me, is somehow the smarter move?

Tim

Hi Tim,

If I'm ever tempted to go into politics, I'll re-read your letter. It'd cure me instantly.

Right now you're on Australia's most depressing treadmill: running flat out while prices (and rents) keep rising faster than you can save. You're absolutely knackered. And then Albo shows up with a way to get you off … right now. 

It's a vote-winner!

My view? 

Albo has helped you off the treadmill … and straight on to the stepper machine. 

And this machine is way harder:

Your house and contents insurance is up 20%. Step. 

The council rates come in. Step. 

Your hot water service carks it. Step.

Now let's crank it. 

A $665k loan at 6% = $3,987 a month, or $47,844 a year. 

At 7%? You'll need to find another $5,244. 

At 8%? Your calves are burning.

And here's the kicker: with only 5% equity, one bad year – job loss, health scare, divorce – and you're wiped out. You can't refinance, can't sell without tipping in cash. You're trapped. Mate, with maximum debt and minimum buffer, you're one bad year away from disaster.

And that is why I'd be such a bad politician.  

There is no way I'd pass a policy that I wouldn't let my own kids do – it sets them up to fail.

Yet it gets worse. 

This does the EXACT OPPOSITE of what the policy promises: Government guarantees don't create more houses, they just pump more borrowed money into the same pool of properties. More buyers with more leverage chasing the same properties equals higher prices.

So what would I do if I were Albo for a day? 

Well, it seems to me that first home buyers are grinding away on the treadmill, while investors are gliding past them on a government-funded escalator – tax breaks on the ride up, tax breaks on the ride down, and immigration keeping the whole thing moving. 

So, I'd do everything I could to reframe housing as something for living in, rather than speculating on. 

Which is why I'll never be a politician. Because I have no easy answers, and no spin, Tim. 

You're right though: it is easy for me as a home owner to say "save up for a bigger deposit".

Regardless, here's the truth: I'd rather cop a spray from you now than cheer you on while you climb onto a step machine that's designed to break you.

Tread Your Own Path!

Wannabe Farmers

Hey Scott,

My husband (late 30s) grew up on farms and has been saving for one ever since his first job. But I’m afraid taking the leap will make us ‘rural povvos’. My husband earns $220K, I’ve stayed home with the kids, and we have over $1 million in cash and shares thanks to subsidised accommodation through his work.

We’ve found a $2 million farm in a lovely country town next to excellent public schools. On one income at 6% rates, it’s not doable. But with my part-time earnings we can swing it! In five years, when all the kids are at school, I’ll work full time earning around $100K. Then we can smash it.

But I can’t help looking at lovely houses we could pay off instead – no stress, and all the freedom before the kids fly the nest. The farm has been our driving force and the reason we’ve saved so carefully, and it’s something in my husband’s heart.  Is there an exception to your ‘postcode povvo’ rule for hobby farms? Tax benefits, an asset ... and a dream fulfilled? Should we jump?

Sally (and Steve)

Hi guys,

You’ve saved over a million bucks in your 30s?  That’s super impressive. Well done.

Yet you still need to stress-test yourselves: could you afford it if interest rates hit 8%? If one of you lost your job for six months? When (not if) the farm needed $50K in unexpected repairs)?

If you can honestly answer ‘yes’ to all three, I’ll grant you an exemption to being a rural povvo.

That said, buying a small-scale farm rarely stacks up financially. The supposed tax benefits are nothing compared to the ongoing costs of keeping the joint running.

If you’re in any doubt, cosy up on the couch tonight and watch Clarkson’s Farm. Just remember: he’s a multi-squillionaire earning a gajillion bucks from making the show, with the great unwashed lining up to buy his overpriced farm produce.

Still, life is about trade-offs.

You’ll probably have to work more. You may miss out on time with your kids. It may put you under financial stress at times. But it could also be the best thing you ever do. It might give your husband purpose, fulfil his dream, and build a life you both love.

Only you can decide whether it’s worth it.

Whatever you decide, remember Clarkson’s golden lesson: you don’t buy a farm to make money – you buy a farm to spend it!

Scott

We’re Millionaires, but Our Investing Sucks

Hi Scott,

My husband and I are in our early 50s with about $1 million each in our SMSF. Sounds impressive, but here’s the embarrassing part: over the last five years, our return has been just 1%. That’s before fees and tax. Basically, we’re going backwards.

We bought and sold a property inside the fund years ago, but since then it’s just sat in cash. We’re hopeless investors. We’ve decided to close the SMSF and move everything into an industry super fund. But I’m scared. Moving the entire balance feels like throwing a couple of million bucks into the sharemarket in one go, which goes against your advice about drip-feeding investments to reduce risk.

My current plan is to roll it into an industry fund, split between cash and index options, then gradually shift more into shares over time. But, with markets so shaky, I’m terrified of buying at the top and losing a chunk overnight. What would you say to people like us – ready to close their SMSF but super scared (pun intended) to make the leap?

Linda

Hi Linda,

Don’t be embarrassed! You’d be shocked how many millionaires I know with piles of cash just sitting there, too scared to move.

You’ve done really well. You’ve built up two million in super between you, but right now, you’re just hoarding it and playing defence. It’s time to get on the front foot.

So hire a good fee-for-service advisor. Pay them a decent hourly rate. Find one who’s evidence based and sticks to low-cost index investing. If they’re any good, they’ll be worth their weight in peanut shells.

You’ve got at least 15 years before you’ll even start drawing down on your super. That’s plenty of time to ride out the ups and downs of the market and grow your balance further. Get the advisor to put together a proper plan to turbocharge your super – by saving more and investing it smarter.

Right now, you’re worried about investing at the top. If dumping it all in makes you nervous, talk to your advisor about drip-feeding it in over six months. You’ll average out the ups and downs and sleep better at night. Sitting in cash earning 1% while inflation of 2.5% (or more) quietly eats it away isn’t safe.

It’s just slow-motion losing.

Start today.

Your future self will thank you.

Scott

Finally some good news for first home buyers

Finally some good news for first home buyers! 

Albo popped up on the socials, grinning through his hipster glasses like your drunk uncle at Christmas lunch, boasting:

"First home buyers, mark your calendars. We're making it easier for you to get your foot in the door sooner. On October 1, 5% deposits start."

That’s this Wednesday.

So is this the week Albo helps you get “a foot in the door”?

Well, if you supersize into a 95% home loan, I think you’ll be lucky to jam your pinky toe in a dog flap.

However, the Treasury doesn’t agree with me. They’ve forecast that letting millions of young people in on a 5% deposit will only push up house prices by a teeny-tiny-itty-bitty 0.5 per cent over six years.

Phew!

Though I’d bet my sheepdog Lucky’s left testicle that they’ll be wrong. Because the Treasury's forecasts are almost always wrong. (Relax Lucky, your balls are safe.)

And that’s the rotten core of this policy. It’s dressed up as a helping hand, but it’s really just a shove into bigger debt. Instead of making homes more affordable, it will push prices higher and encourage first home buyers to borrow more and save less. That’s subprime lending, Australian-style.

So picture it: young buyers sprinting to save while house prices climb faster, while a conga line of politicians, mortgage brokers and real estate agents egging them on – straight into becoming postcode povvos.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well, when interest rates rise, many of these postcode povvos will hit the wall with a double dose of rising repayments and negative equity ... and it's taxpayers who will be on the hook to bail them out.

Now, Albo isn’t an economist. He just occasionally plays one on TV around election time. Yet he does know how the numbers work in politics. Two-thirds of voters own a home, most want prices to go up, and plenty of MPs on both sides own more than one property. Albo’s done the maths, and he’s making sure his roof at the Lodge stays secure.

That’s what really stinks. It’s not just a dud policy, it’s insulting. It tells first home buyers they’re being helped, when in reality they’re being pushed further away from owning a home. And if this scheme becomes entrenched, it will lock in that disadvantage for generations.

One day renters will wake up, realise the game is rigged, and evict their legislative landlords.

Mark your calendar.

Tread Your Own Path!

Photo: Nova

My ADHD Nightmare!

Hi Scott,

A few years ago, I read The Barefoot Investor, set up my buckets, and started strong … before promptly faceplanting into a mountain of debt. My income wasn’t keeping up, and the Mojo account remained a distant dream, like a unicorn, or a tidy sock drawer. Turns out I have ADHD (officially diagnosed now), which explains a lot about my money habits – namely, why sticking to a plan felt like wrestling jelly. But here’s the good news: I’ve just scored a promotion so my income will jump from $115K to $190K. For the first time in forever, I feel like I’ve got a real shot at clearing debt and building that elusive Mojo. So I’ve dusted off your book and I’m starting fresh. Thanks for creating something that sticks, even when life doesn’t go to plan.

Kate

Hi Kate,

Thank you for your kind words about my book, but I still have to pee on your parade for a moment.

Earning more money won’t magically fix your finances – in fact, it could make things much worse. The immediate danger with that $75K pay rise is that you’ll feel rich and spend like it.

Now, you said sticking to a plan felt like “wrestling jelly” – and that’s actually perfect. 

Stop wrestling!  

Look I’m no shrink, but it seems to me that the trick with ADHD isn’t trying harder, it’s building systems that work even when your brain is scattered.

So here’s what I'd do: 

For the next 90 days, act like it didn’t happen: just put the entire raise into your savings. Prove to yourself you can live on your old salary, then decide what to do with the extra.

In the meantime, set up automatic transfers to your separate savings buckets the day you get paid, so you don’t see the extra money in your account. Remove every possible friction point between you and good money decisions.

And because ADHD brains need evidence, not willpower, use that time to give yourself three small wins – automate one bill, set up one transfer, negotiate one payment – and watch your money confidence explode. Each small victory rewires your brain to see yourself as someone who’s in control of their finances. 

You’ve got this, Kate. Now go prove it to yourself.

I’m Filthy Rich … and Fed Up

Hi Scott,

Two years ago I received a large payment from selling land to developers. Since my husband died, I live on the interest from this money as I get nothing from the Government. Now my stepchildren and friends are constantly asking for large sums. I’m generous and selective – I’ll help with genuinely urgent needs. But I feel mean saying no, even though I need this money for income and bills.

Here’s what hurts: they never contact me to see how I am or if I need help. They only call when they want money. Is it okay to say no? I have enough to live comfortably and give 10% to charity, but I feel guilty having financial security when others struggle.

Jenny

Hi Jenny, 

No, you shouldn’t feel guilty. You’re not a human ATM. Your family and friends don’t get to punch in your number and expect money to spit out! 

You’re clearly generous, but generosity without boundaries isn’t kindness – it’s just guilt. 

So, here’s what I’d do: 

Decide in advance how much you’re willing to give each year. Maybe it’s 10% of your income. Maybe it’s 5%. Maybe it’s a kransky and a hand-written card. 

Then, when someone inevitably hits you up, you trot out this line: “I’ve set a personal rule to focus my giving on causes I’ve chosen in advance. I hope you understand.” 

That’s how you set a clear boundary without drama or guilt. 

And if people don’t like it? Let them eat kransky. It’s their problem – not yours.

Scott

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