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.

Barefoot Finally Gets into Crypto

Hi Scott,

Brynvest is an automated trading platform that uses price arbitrage between Bitcoin platforms to make investors thousands of dollars a month with as little as $350. And they are quoting you as part of the bait on the hook. Should I put my $350 down now?

Terry

Hi Terry,

It’s a scam.

The headshot they’re using of me is from 2006 (I wish I still looked like that), and the AI-generated quote they’ve attributed to me is complete nonsense.

It sounds harmless. And that’s the point.

“Throw in $350 and give it a go”, right?

That’s the bait.

Just this week a lady wrote to me who put in $350 “just for fun”.

Once she was on the hook, they kept reeling her in – “top up to unlock withdrawals”, “borrow to scale up”, “you’re so close”.

Today she’s down an astonishing $2.1 million.

I had to tell her the truth.

The money is gone.

Help! My In-laws Are Conspiracy Theory Cookers

Dear Scott,

My conspiracy theorist parents-in-laws are offering my husband and me $3,000 – but only if we invest it in silver. We live week to week, so this is serious money. They even sat us down to set up an ABC Bullion account. Silver will make us and them rich, apparently (they’re almost 70 and have never been smart with money). If we do what they say, they’ve also promised to enrol our two-year-old son in a prestigious Sydney boarding school where three generations of the family have gone.

The problem is I don’t want cooker investments. And I don’t want my son shipped off to boarding school four hours away! He’s TWO! We can’t afford decades of debt. And our three daughters get nothing because they’re not boys. Both sets of parents bankrupted themselves on school fees and had nothing for retirement. I won’t repeat that. But my husband won’t cross his parents. How do I make him see this is madness?

Linda

Hey Linda, 

They may be crazy, but they’re also cunning.

In fact, I think your in-laws are about to make the trade of a lifetime: 

But it ain’t silver ... that three grand they’re ‘giving’ you will buy them a say over your kids. And if you take it, you’ve agreed (silently) that they get a say: 

In your investments.

In your two-year-old son’s schooling. 

In the messages you send to your girls about their self-worth. 

And they’re getting all that for, what, three grand? 

In the wise words of the Brown Wiggle, “Bugger that”.

Look, if I were you, I wouldn’t waste energy trying to convert the in-laws. You won’t. People who mistake their silverware for a portfolio rarely change their minds over pavlova. 

This conversation belongs with your husband. 

But a word of warning: if you go after his parents you’ll push him straight into their corner.

So instead simply ask him: 

“Both our parents bankrupted themselves on school fees and dud investments. Are we going to continue that tradition, or are we doing something different?” 

Forget silver. It’s time for him to show some steel.

Barefoot finally gets into crypto

“You got balls”, said my editor, shaking their head.

I’d just told them about a conversation I’d had with Australia’s biggest life insurer, TAL.

Last week I answered a question from Bill and Wendy. Bill is 88, on life support, dying. Wendy is 79. They’re on the aged pension, renting, and handing over $304 a fortnight for a funeral insurance policy they took out in 2010.

Let me explain funeral insurance:

It’s the ‘Ab-Zapper 3000’ of the finance industry.

“Simply clamp these jumper cables to your muffin top and taser yourself into a six-pack! All for four easy payments … but wait, there’s more!”

Financial advisors wouldn’t give it a second look for their clients. So, instead, insurance companies go direct to Aussie lounge rooms, flogging it in ads to lure unsuspecting oldies watching Larry Emdur interview a psychic dog.

The people who buy it are battlers … kind-hearted, loving ones. They don’t own a house. They don’t have super to cover funeral costs. They sign up because they don’t want to burden their kids.

That’s their motivation. 

Yet the BMW-driving finance bro who dreamed this up? 

His motivation was earning a big, fat bonus.

Here’s the design: premiums start low. Then they ‘step up’ every year as you get sicker and broker. In other words, customers pay the most when they can afford the least.

And here’s the trap: cancel at any point – even after years of paying – and you lose everything.

My view?

Funeral insurance was created by rich people to exploit poor people.

Well, this week I officially became Bill and Wendy’s financial counsellor.

And I fight for my clients. 

Hard.

And that’s how I ended up in a ‘ballsy’ conversation with a TAL representative this week.

“Scott, you’ve already made up your mind. You’re saying our product is predatory and unconscionable”, argued the TAL representative.

“Bloody oath”, I said.

When Bill and Wendy signed up in 2010, it cost $41 a fortnight. In March, it rises to $304.

They’ve already paid in almost as much as the funeral payout.

If Wendy cancels now, she gets nothing back. So she keeps paying.

Which means she has a choice:

She can turn on the air-con for her dying husband.

Or she can keep the insurance.

Not both.

That ain’t bad luck ... that’s exactly the way the product was designed.

“And that is the trap your company built”, I said to the TAL rep.

“Well, you’re hardly independent”, she fired back.

“Look, I’m the only one who’s truly independent here: you’re banking their cash, Wendy and Bill are paying it … I’m doing this for free.”

“So what do you want?” the TAL rep snapped.

“I want all their premiums repaid”, I said calmly.

“All of them?” she scoffed.

“With interest.”

Tread Your Own Path!

P.S. A statement From TAL: 

“We are deeply saddened to hear of Wendy and Bill’s situation and do not want to add to their worry at what must be an incredibly difficult time. We have worked with Wendy and Bill and agreed an outcome that we hope provides them with the support they need.”

(And I can confirm that Wendy and Bill are delighted with the offer they were given.) 

TAL also stated: “We ceased selling stepped premium funeral insurance products in 2013.”

Nice.

Yet what they didn’t state was they’re still collecting the air-conditioning money from all the Wendys and Bills who signed up years ago. If you’re stuck in one of these policies, speak to a financial counsellor at the National Debt Helpline on 1800 007 007. 

The Grave Robbers

Scott,

My husband Bill (88) and I (79) are on the aged pension and have been paying  funeral insurance for many years. It started under $100 per fortnight. Now it's $304, going up to $330 in March. Coverage is $22,000 each. Bill has two terminal illnesses and is on life support with portable oxygen. We pay rent from our pension and have almost nothing left.  Is there any way to stop this?

Wendy

Hi Wendy,

Reading your question has brought tears to my eyes.

The only reason you took out funeral insurance is because you didn’t want to be a burden on your loved ones. And these financial parasites are sucking you dry.

You've almost paid more in premiums than the $22,000 payout. If you'd put that money in a bank account earning 3%, you'd have enough for a funeral and money left over. Yet if you cancel, you get nothing back. They keep every cent you've paid.

How do they do this?

They buy ads on day time TV, and target pensioners with fear, lock them into contracts that bleed them dry, and count on people like you being too tired, too sick, too broke, or too scared to fight back.

Well, screw them.

They're taking $304 a fortnight from a couple on the aged pension with a dying husband on life support.

You're probably thinking, "But I'm 79, Bill's dying, and I don't have the energy."

That may be true, but I do.

I'll take this on personally. We're going to lodge a complaint with AFCA (Australian Financial Complaints Authority). AFCA has the power to force them to refund your premiums. It won't be easy, but I've helped other pensioners get their money back.

Let’s fight these bastards.

Albos War on Property Investors

Scott,

 I read a financial commentator suggesting Labor is planning to cut the Capital Gains Tax discount from 50% to 25%, and that anyone thinking about buying an investment property should do it before the May Budget. What are your thoughts? 

Phil

Hi Phil,

There's a good chance the Treasurer is floating this now to soften people up. Whether it actually happens in May will depend on how loud the backlash is over the next few weeks.

That said, I've always thought the CGT discount was a bonehead policy. It pushed property prices higher.

Which was exactly the point.

And if this change only hits property (rather than shares), then owning an investment property will become less attractive after Budget night: Good news for first home buyers. Bad news for property investors.

My view?

I don't make investment decisions based on proposed tax changes. But over the long run, Aussie shares with their tax-effective franking credits are likely to deliver better income, stronger growth, and fewer hassles than being a landlord (after all, shares do not leak, break, or ring you on a Sunday needing a plumber).

How Do I Avoid Going to Prison for my Brother?

Scott,

For twenty years, my brother has asked me to buy gold for him from the Perth Mint. He lives overseas and mistrusts banks, governments, and anyone who enjoys paperwork. So I bought gold for him. Three thousand here. Six thousand there. Over time, this turned into around $100k of gold in my garage. Gold prices are now up, and suddenly my brother wants to sell.

Technically it's his gold and his money, but legally it looks like mine. The Perth Mint receipts are in my name and the gold has been living rent-free next to my lawn mower for decades. When I investigate selling it, I discover capital gains tax and AUSTRAC reporting. Neither appeal to me as a regular mum with zero interest in explaining myself to government departments.

My brother, unfazed, proposes a solution after consulting ChatGPT: Post the gold in $10k parcels to Ainslie Bullion, include a Binance Bitcoin QR code, he gets paid in Bitcoin. Presto, no tax, no problems. I would prefer not to feature in a tax audit or a future true-crime podcast titled "The Garage Bullion Affair." My brother is not a criminal, but he thinks he's very clever.

What's the least painful solution?

Lisa

Hi Lisa,

I’m a brother, and I do annoying things to my big sister … yet the most annoying thing I’ve stored in her garage is an old spa bath.

Yet your bro’s plan has more leaks than my hot tub ever had. It opens you up to the risk of an Australian Taxation Office audit or a call from the coppers.

Here are three leak that I can sees:

First, deliberately splitting a large sale into $10,000 parcels to avoid AUSTRAC reporting is called structuring, and it’s a crime.

Second, for any bullion sale over $5,000, dealers are legally required to verify your ID.

Third, Bitcoin isn’t invisible. The ATO tracks crypto exchanges, and the digital trail is as permanent as a bank transfer.

What would I do?

I’d get a statutory declaration from your brother stating he’s the beneficial owner and you were only acting as his agent. Then sell the gold through a reputable dealer. Show the declaration to your accountant and let them work out who pays the tax. 

Your brother can ChatGPT his way to the clink, but you don’t want any skeletons in your garage.

Albos war on landlords

It was like something out of a movie. A horror movie.

It was well past midnight on New Year's Eve in downtown Tokyo. I had checked into a capsule hotel.

I was lying flat on my back, and every breath hit the ceiling of the capsule-coffin and bounced straight back onto my face, creating a claustrophobic loop of ramen-tainted air.

"So this is what my final night will feel like," I thought.

Yet this is Japan, so of course it got weirder.

Just inches from my nose, a camera with a blinking infrared light was pointed directly at my head, recording my every movement and sound.

I slid out of the capsule — careful not to rupture a hernia — and trudged to reception.

"What's the camera for?" I grumbled.

"It's to track your sleep," the attendant said, bowing.

"But I don't want my sleep tracked."

She smiled politely. 

"These are the rules."

I wouldn't normally stay in a capsule hotel, but I was here with my eldest boy, and he's 12 and flexible. He'd just finished primary school, and to celebrate we went on a father-son trip. 

I'm well aware that very soon the hormones will kick in and he'll soon communicate with me through grunts. Yet for this trip, we had the best time. And without his mother as the sensible voice of reason... it was loose.

He found a ramen joint in a back alleyway that served what looked suspiciously like raw chicken.

He looked at me. I looked at him.

"Sure, why not?"

Japan is weird. But here's what's weirder:

The camera wasn’t the real shock. What happened in Japan’s financial markets was.

In the 1980s they had the mother of all wealth booms.

In the 1990s they had the mother of all debt busts.

And since then they've had the mother of all borrowing binges to ease the pain. The government  kept piling debt upon debt for decades, and kept rates ultra-low to keep it manageable. They had the highest debt levels in the developed world. Everyone warned them. For years. Nothing happened.

Until this month.

While I was sleeping in my surveillance capsule, Japan's bond market had a meltdown. Yields that should take months to move exploded in a single day. Bloomberg called it a "once in 1.4 million year move." The US Treasury Secretary had to call Japan's Finance Minister to say: "Your bond crisis just hit our markets."

Here's why that matters to you:

In Australia it’s not the government that has the debts, it’s our households, and it's one of the highest in the world. We've got massive mortgages, cheap rates, and we think we're different.

Japan thought they were different too.

For 30 years, they got away with it. Then one Tuesday, the market said:

 "Not anymore." 

I’m not saying Japan is about to collapse. What I am saying is that things that look safe for decades can break in an afternoon.

My takeout from Tokyo? 

Don't confuse thirty years of calm with safety (oh, that and don't eat raw chicken, or stay in hotels with a camera pointed at your snoring noggin).

Tread Your Own Path!

I Built My Dream Home – Someone Burned It To The Ground

Hi Scott,

Five years ago I followed your Barefoot Steps, got debt free, and saved to build my first home. For two years I saved madly, buying furniture and appliances, watching my house being built. 

Each night I’d walk to the estate with my parents. It was our ritual.

A month ago, I picked up the keys. Over the next few weeks I moved everything in. The curtains finally went up. I was due to move in last Saturday.  

That night I woke to security notifications from my cameras. But when I went to check the feed, they were offline. I called 000. Police and firies met us there. 

Someone had broken in and set fire to the place. Everything is gone. Burnt, melted, or smoke damaged. My air con’s literally melted down the walls! I have insurance, but I’m concerned it won’t be enough with rising building costs. You lost your home to bushfire. Can you share what to expect and tips for navigating this?

Danu 

Hi Danu,

I’m so sorry this happened to you – it is absolutely heartbreaking. 

My advice on what to do next? 

Light a fire under your insurer. 

Most Aussies never read their insurance policy. The result is that claiming can be like playing poker against my sheepdog Lucky. Their policies are written by their own insurance lawyers to pay out as little as they have to. 

That’s why I’d strongly encourage you to take your policy and contact the Insurance Law Service on 1300 663 464. Ask them about your policy and what additional items you can claim. 

My specific advice? 

Do not cash settle.  

Your contents are covered up to a set amount. Once the loss assessor finishes their report, that money should be paid out. You’ll likely have a reinstatement policy, so get them to reinstate the building. Let them manage the entire enchilada.  

Your job is to stay on top of the insurer and be the squeaky, demanding wheel.

My golden rule of insurance claims is “Don’t ask, don’t get”.

My other golden rule is “If they say no, ask again in a slightly different way, in writing”.

(Also stay on top of the arson investigation too. Police reports and evidence of criminal activity can strengthen your claim and may unlock additional coverage you didn’t know you had.)

Right now, focus on the next step in front of you. You don’t have to solve everything at once. This event has become part of your story. It’s something that will stay with you and make you stronger.

Just you wait and see.

Your Son Has a Car Crash? Good.

Hi Scott,

Our 20-year-old son let his car insurance lapse. Then he had an accident. His car hit two other vehicles. Now both insurers are chasing him for nearly $30,000 (plus he still needs to repair his own car). He's a part-time student working at Woolies with barely any income.  What would you say if this were your son?

Kelly

Hi Kelly,

If it were my son?

I’d ask him, “what’s your plan to fix the mess you’ve created?”

Hint: the correct answer to that question is:

“I’ve gathered up all the paperwork from the insurers, I’ve called the National Debt Helpline on 1 800 007 007, and I’m sitting down with a financial counsellor to work through my options”.

Another hint: don’t make the call for him. Don’t go to the meeting with him. Let him sort it out.

If he sits across from a financial counsellor like me, here’s the likely outcome:

He has no assets, and no capacity to repay the debt. So the insurer will likely waive the debt, or put him on a small payment plan for 12 months, and eventually waive the debt.

Final hint: don’t tell him that. Let him work it out for himself, and live with the ramifications of being a financial five year old.

The Hottest Trade in the World Right Now

Scott, 

My grandfather bought two 1kg silver bars in 1987 for $701, which was all he could afford from his savings. He’s been hiding them in my parents’ house for 39 years as an investment for my sister and me. I just found out about them, and silver’s gone bananas. Should I cash out now and move the money into stocks for better long-term growth? What’s your take on precious metals versus equities?

Nathan

Hi Nathan,

For all the things Gramps could pull out at the kitchen table (his false choppers, a laminated funeral notice for someone named Trevor, his prostate exam results) … that is a pearler!

Silver is the hottest trade in the world right now:

Until it dropped an alarming 26% this weekend, it had notched up gains of 50% this month … and that’s on top of the 145% it gained last year.

“Traders are OBSESSED with Silver”, shouts a headline from CNBC.

Alright, enough of the shouting. Let’s see what it means for you:

Gramps’ silver bars have increased in value from $701 to around $7,836 over the past 39 years.

That’s a compound return of 6.4% per year.

That’s better than a slap on the rod with a Murray cod (as my grandfather would say).

But don’t forget: you’ll pay CGT on the profit. And silver dealers charge outrageous buy-sell spreads, so you’ll lose a decent chunk to margins.

Now if Gramps had instead invested that $701 into an Aussie shares index fund and ticked “reinvest the dividends”, that $701 would be worth around $20,200 today.

More than double.

Plus, unlike the metal bars, you’d be getting a tax-paid dividend of around $800 a year which you could spend, or reinvest to compound your money.

I know what I’d do!

I’d take Gramps out for a slap-up dinner and thank him for being the best granddad in the world. A lifetime ago he invested his savings into you and kept the faith.

And that’s worth its weight in gold (or silver).

The hottest trade in the world right now

That old feeling.

Thick smoke. Fires blazing out of control. Sirens screaming.

A text from a neighbour down the road: “What can you see? Is it bad?”

Twenty fire trucks were battling it at my neighbour’s farm across the road.

Helicopters buzzed overhead. Sheep were getting spooked.

Everything was hot, dry, and primed to burn.

And I felt … calm.

I’ve already lost a home, years ago. And when you do, you learn something fast: in a fire, you don’t grab what’s expensive. You grab one thing. And it was already sitting in the front seat of my ute.

Thanks to the hardworking, brave volunteers of the CFA, they stopped the fire at my neighbour’s farm, and with it the immediate danger to mine. 

Other people in our community weren’t so lucky. Fifty families lost their homes this month. Even more small businesses were totally wiped out.

I spent the next week helping people as a financial counsellor. At the emergency recovery centre, I listened to people replay the moment they ran. What they grabbed. What they left.

It’s always the same. They mourn the things they can’t replace. Ashes. Letters. A single photo. They were searching for the same thing: the one thing that made their life theirs. They just didn’t know it until the fire asked the question for them.

Here’s the question the fire asks, whether you’re ready or not:

If you had 60 seconds to leave your house forever, what’s the ONE thing you'd grab?

Not three. Not five. ONE.

(Aside from people, pets, and financial documents.)

Most people don’t know their answer. They think they’ll work it out in the moment.

They won’t.

So here’s your challenge:

Find your one special thing this week.

Dust it off. Spend a few minutes with it. Think about why it matters.

Then back it up, protect it, or keep it within arm’s reach.

This is your life distilled to what really matters.

Insurance replaces houses and buys you stuff that’ll eventually end up at the tip or Vinnies – but it doesn’t pay for the one thing that makes your life yours.

Don’t wait for the fire to teach you what that is.

Tread Your Own Path!

Should I Ask My Kid How Much He Earns?

Hey Scott, 

I’ve been following you for years. Your recent take on “Should I tell my kids how much I earn?” got me wondering about the flip side: Should I ask my son how much he earns? He’s 26, still living at home, working full time since TAFE. He pays a bit of rent, chips in for bills, says he’s saving for a house one day. We get on great: good chats over Sunday dinner, no drama. I’m curious about how he’s doing, but I also want to respect his privacy. If I don’t share my income, is it fair to ask about his? Or should I just zip it and trust he’s got things sorted? What would you do, Barefoot? 

Vanessa

Hi Vanessa,

Should you ask him how much he earns?

Wrong question.

You have good chats and no drama with your kidult who’s still living at home? 

That doesn’t happen by chance. It tells me you’ve built a good, respectful relationship. That’s seriously huge, and you’ve earned the right to influence him.

So use it.

Ask him this instead: “Where do you want to be when you’re 30?”

He’s got four years. Does he have a specific savings target? A move-out date? Or is he just vibing in your spare bedroom?

Here’s what I'm seeing: He’s working full time, paying a “bit” of rent, and “chipping in” for bills. Meanwhile, his mates who moved out years ago are paying $400-plus a week in rent and bills and figuring out how to actually budget on what they earn.

But your son? 

He’s playing Auskick in the backyard.

Look, I get it – you love him, and you want to help him save. But here’s the reality: if he’s paying you $150 a week instead of the $400-plus his mates are paying, that’s $250 a week in subsidised cushiness.

And over the next four years until he’s 30? 

That’s a $52,000 free kick!

(And is it worth the embarrassment of telling potential romantic partners he still lives with his mummy?)

So here’s your Sunday dinner conversation: Tell him it’s time to put a number and a date on this ‘saving for a house’ dream. What’s his target? When’s he moving out?

Oh, and here’s one final question, for you:

Are you helping him, or enabling him?

My Sister-in-Law is a Bludger

Scott,

I am over it! My husband’s sister, her partner and their three kids have been living off my in-laws for five years. They moved in to ‘save for a rental’. Five years and another baby later, still nothing. The partner only just started working after four years of unemployment. Meanwhile, my husband and I have sold our first home, have relocated, and are smashing our mortgage following your advice. We never get acknowledgement from his parents. Maybe that’s why I’m furious watching those kids learn it’s okay to freeload. Should my husband say something to his sister? Or do the in-laws just need to kick them out?

Lena

Hey Lena,

You’re angry because you want a pat on the back for being an adult.

So here you go:

Pat. Pat.

Lena, the only external validation you need is the fact that you’re not holed up with your mother-in-law eating apricot chicken in her lounge room each night.

These people are unlikely to change. 

So I’d redirect your emotional credits towards helping their kids. 

Show them what self-sufficiency looks like. Take them to your place. Let them see that adults work, save, and stand on their own two feet. They’re learning from everyone around them right now – make sure you’re one of the teachers.

Just don’t expect any pats on the back.

Thanks for Nuttin’, Albo

Scott,

I think I know your answer but I’ll ask it anyway. I’ve just been reading that in the US Trump is bringing in 50-year loans to help people get into their first homes. I’ve googled it and found that some banks here will do 40-year loans, which would help lower our repayments. Given all the homes we’ve been looking at around Albany have increased in value by $20,000 (or more) since the 5% deposit scheme was rolled out, is this worth looking at?

Tim

Hey Tim,

You’re right, you know my answer.

Don't take financial advice from a bloke whose businesses have been bankrupt six times.

Yet I get it. You scrimp and stash away $350 into your little savings account, and in one weekend house prices jump $20,000, thanks to an elbow from Albo. That completely sucks. Yet what sucks even harder is signing up to a 40- or 50-year loan. It’s literally a death trap: the average first-home buyer is now 38 years old. That means you’ll be making payments at 88. Yet most Aussie blokes are dead by 84!

Let's say you take out a $600,000 loan on a 50-year term. Your repayments will be much lower than a conventional 30-year loan. However, there’s no free lunch. You’ll end up paying $600,000 extra in interest to the bank.

Here’s you: “Yeah, but I’m not a loser, I’ll pay it off early, and all I care about is getting in, and the next 10 years.”

Here’s me: In the first 10 years of that 50-year loan, you’ll pay $353,000 in interest while only reducing your principal by a teeny, tiny $26,000. You’re basically renting from the bank while being responsible for all maintenance, rates and insurance.

Politicians can smell your desperation.

They’re hoping you don’t do the calculations.

My final column

This is my last column for the year.

And the biggest lesson I learned this year wasn't about money – it was about time. We get 4,000 weeks, if we’re lucky. I’ve burned through half of mine, and time is speeding up.

My life is vanishing between the scramble – “Hurry up! We’ll be late. Where is your water bottle? Do you have your water bottle? I packed your water bottle. Go and get your water bottle!” – and the scroll at the end of the night watching numbing videos one after another. 

Look, I’m no role model. The phone in my pocket is too powerful – it’s designed to pull me in and eat hours of my life. 

So this year I created one embarrassingly simple rule:

The last hour of every night I spend with my wife. No screens. No fixing, just listening. Connecting with her is a priority, because if that falls then everything falls. (After all, divorce is one of the biggest wealth destroyers you’ll face. So, yes, this is about money.)

So I literally put a reminder in my phone each night at 8pm:

“Time for Liz”

“What’s that?” asked my son when the reminder came up on the Apple CarPlay on the way home from basketball practice.

“It’s a reminder for me to spend time with your mum.”

“Why do you need to be reminded?” he laughed.

I wanted to tell him that, without it, I’d go down a rabbit hole researching the latest Demons trade talks, or sending mates dumb memes, instead of talking to his mother.

I stopped short.

“Sometimes we all need a reminder about what really matters”, I told him.

Tread Your Own Path!

His Spreadsheet Says "No More Kids"

Scott

My partner and I have started talking about having a second child. He's convinced we can't afford to raise two kids in Australia to the age of 18. He even built a spreadsheet to prove it! Everyone I talk to says "you just make it work", but this is not enough to get my partner over the line. He earns $90,000, and I'm currently working part time in retail while studying. We have a mortgage and are very careful with our spending, yet we're still struggling to save with the current cost of living.

What I can't wrap my head around is that so many families in tougher financial situations than ours seem to have multiple kids and make it work somehow. Is my partner right to make this decision with his head rather than his heart? It feels so wrong – and, honestly, heartbreaking – to think money might be the deciding factor.

Ella

Hey Ella,

That family with more kids than you?  

They didn't consult a spreadsheet. They don't budget either.   

Heck, he probably proposed to her because he thought she looked hot in jeans.   
Thinking time over. Case closed. Bam!

Look, I wish more parents would do a spreadsheet. It's refreshing. I'd certainly do one for buying a car and definitely for buying a house. But for having a kid?   

Nah.  

There ain't an Excel formula that can show kids are a good payoff.  

I have four. Financially, they don't stack up.  

However, you make it work. Public schools. Hand-me-downs. Government payments for each kid.

Plus, the spreadsheet he's built is likely only a snapshot in time: fact is you'll earn more as you finish your study, and once the kids go to school you'll have more capacity to work.

My view?

Your partner is a careful guy who takes his role as a parent and a provider seriously. You're writing to the Barefoot Investor about procreation. You guys are more aligned than you think.

So let me give you the ultimate formula:

The only kids you regret are the ones you don't have.

We're Facing Bankruptcy

Scott,

My husband and I followed all the Barefoot steps. We saved $40,000 and got into Sydney's property market in early 2024 using the 5% deposit scheme. Not long after settling, we discovered why the apartment seemed affordable. There were serious waterproofing issues, and our strata fees jumped from $1,500 to $2,500 per quarter. Worse, from the first night we realised we were in a terrible neighbourhood. The noise was constant. When we tried to talk to neighbours, we got late-night knocks and harassment. Our young children were terrified. After 1.5 years we couldn't take it anymore. We rented elsewhere and listed our apartment. Five weeks later, no interest. We're paying both rent and the investment loan. Our agent wants us to drop the rent per week $150 below market. If we sell, we'll break even but be locked out as Sydney prices soar. If we hold on, we risk bankruptcy.  What would you do?

Sally and Rod

Hello,

In which Barefoot Step does it say to take out a loan with a 5% deposit?

You didn't follow Barefoot, you followed Albo and his dud policy:

"Only Labor will help you buy a home right now!"

And you did!

So, what should you do now?

Stop listening to politicians who are poking your FOMO for votes would be one idea.

Another would be to take responsibility for your own decisions.

Let me hold up a mirror:

You rushed into buying it. Now you're rushing to sell it. See the pattern?

Here's my hunch: I think the two of you know what you need to do. So, book a Barefoot Date Night for this coming week and get a realistic gameplan on where to go from here.

That's Barefoot Step 1.

The Best Christmas Present Ever

Hi Scott,

I bought Barefoot Kids for my seven-year-old son Chris during the school holidays. I wasn't sure he'd read it – he's only ever read small books before. Well, he's now read it multiple times, made his jars, and is planning to start two businesses: creating video games and selling dog treats. Here's what really got me: I'm 40, and I still don't have my money sorted. Watching Chris get excited about saving has finally inspired me to read YOUR book and fix my own finances. Thank you for giving him a better start than I had.

Linda

Hey Linda,

Thanks for the kind words.

This year I've taught my money class at my kids' school, and the results have been awesome. The key to teaching anything is to make a game out of it – to get the kids off their screens and into the big wide world. They'll amaze you every time. Oh, and please thank your son for inspiring you! Merry Christmas!

A book so good I bought 50 copies