We Are in the Poo

Dear Scott,

Three days ago my husband rang to say sewage was pouring out of our basic 70s suburban Melbourne house. A plumber quoted $48,000 plus GST to dig 2.5 metres down under our old cubbyhouse to fix the blockage.

By the time I got home, my hubby had paid a small deposit. Sewage was flooding the neighbour’s place and the street gutter. We pissed on the lawn that night. Next morning our youngest had a baby wipe shower and pooed into a plastic bag-lined bucket before his school production.

The plumber returned and pressured my husband into a payment plan, and then cornered me. He literally grabbed my phone when his ‘interest free’ app wouldn’t load. I saw the finance company ‘Humm’ and remembered your warnings, but I had major surgery booked at work (I’m a vet) and had to leave.

After performing the surgery and euthanising a dog with an inoperable tumour, I came home to find a Portaloo being delivered. No digger had arrived, just a bloke with a shovel.

Thursday morning I noticed water still flowing despite no taps running. I was convinced it was coming from neighbours uphill. The plumber dismissed me. I rang Yarra Valley Water. The blockage was in the communal sewer over our fence, not our property. Yet the plumber kept digging.

When my husband questioned the plumber, a ‘chief’ arrived demanding a 30% cancellation fee. My hubby’s distraught. The ‘chief’ returns Monday at 9am for our decision. 

We’ve already sold shares to pay. What do we do?

B

Hey B,

These guys sound like total turdburglars.

Look, scammers are experts in exploiting people when the crap hits the fan (or in your case the neighbour’s yard). Still, I’m sure your husband feels embarrassed and ashamed.

However, you likely have a 10-day cooling-off period, and the 30% break fee is probably unenforceable  (they can only charge actual costs incurred).

Let him know that I think sorting this out will be as simple as cleaning the dunny after a seven-year old’s slumber party (plug your nose, grab some Pine O Clean, apply some elbow grease).

First, cancel their services via email immediately – state that you’re exercising your cooling-off right.

Second, contact Humm finance: tell them you’re disputing the contract and want the finance cancelled. If they give you any pushback, contact me and I’ll call them.

Third, get two other quotes (and get on to Yarra Valley Water) and prove the $48,000 is inflated.

Finally, Consumer Affairs Victoria (1300 558 181), and Consumer Action Law Centre on (03) 9670 5088, for official advice on dealing with this diarrhoea.

My guess?

Most scammers get the trots when they see you roll up your sleeves and quote your rights. 

It’s time to flush these turds!

The $500 Kid’s Birthday Party

Scott,

Kids’ birthday parties have become ridiculous productions – themed decorations, catering, gift bags – and now parents are expected to bring presents for every child attending. We used to do cake and backyard games. Now it’s stressful and expensive, and teaching kids that birthdays are about stuff instead of joy and friends. How do we step off this treadmill without being the odd ones out?

Jen

Hi Jen,

My four-year-old was super excited about Grandad’s 76th birthday last week. 

He got on FaceTime and innocently asked: 

“What party games did you play, Grandad?”

“Oh? Erm, well, it was just a quiet day with Gran and I …”

I have four kids and, yes, it’s got out of control. Here’s what’s happened: parents  have started matching party costs to gift costs. Yet it’s an arms race nobody signed up for.

Your kids don’t care. They want their mates there. That’s it.

So, hold the party at the local park. Sausage sizzle. One game. Cake from Coles. Booze for the parents.   Three packets of mixed lollies in paper bags as they leave (revenge is a sugar high in someone else’s car).

Doneski.

What’s stopping you?

You're scared of being judged by the other parents. Or even deeper ... of your kids being judged.

“Why didn't we have the Encanto themed party where everyone got themed party gifts?”

Here’s the truth: that won’t happen. Your kid will be laughing with their mates, eating sausages, and having a ball. And you’ll have saved yourself $500 and three hours of stress.

My Son’s Girlfriend is a Tramp

Scott,

My son’s girlfriend decided to move in with him. I suggested a cohabitation agreement, only to hear it is too expensive ($2,000 according to them). He has no debt. His girlfriend has $71,000 study debt and a five-year-old child. She drives a big family 4x4 vehicle. My son drives an entry-level Suzuki. The young child’s father does not pay maintenance – Mum’s choice. 

My son earns more than her, but all expenses and debt are split 50/50. She is doing further study (thankfully her employer is paying for it), so she has limited time after a day’s work. So my son does the housework, cooks, bathes and feeds the child while working full time. I might be a pedantic mother, and I understand that times have changed, but I still see red flags!

Helen

Hi Helen,

It sounds like you think your boy’s new girl is a tramp.

That being said, this is not her first rodeo, and she didn’t trample her baby’s daddy.

 So there’s that going for her.

The real question isn’t whether they need a $2,000 legal document. It’s whether they’ve actually talked about what ‘fair’ means when one person brings debt, a child, and a 4x4 to a household where the other person brings income, a Suzuki, and all the cooking skills. 

A cohabitation agreement forces that conversation– not just because it’s legally binding, but because sitting across from a solicitor makes it impossible to dodge the hard questions: What happens if you split? Who pays her debt? What’s his role with the child? How do you divide assets when one person comes in with debts?

Here’s an analogy you may want to suggest to your son: You don’t expect to prang your Hilux but you still get insurance, because the financial and emotional ramifications could be catastrophic.

The real power of hanging out with people who bill by the minute is getting clarity should things go from “I love you” to “I’m in the dog box” to “I’m keeping the dog”.

Disclosure: I chose not to get a prenup with my wife, despite my lawyer begging me to the same way a labrador begs for a sausage.

Why?

Because I went all in.

Maybe your son has too.

That’s his call to make, not yours. Even if watching him make it keeps you up at night.

Using AI to pick winning stocks

Barry pushed his phone across the table. Twenty-five stocks. Companies he couldn’t name.

“ChatGPT picked every single one”, he said. 

“I'm crushing it.’

I was having dinner with a mate I’ll call Barry … and Barry has gone balls and all into AI.

In fact, these days it’s hard to work out where Barry starts and ChatGPT ends. 

Solving climate change? 

“AI.” 

Write a work email that makes you sound like you care? 

“AI.” 

Constipated? 

“Mate, have you tried asking ChatGPT about fibre intake?”

“Do you even know what these businesses do?” I quizzed him. He stared at me blankly.

“Let me just ask ChatGPT …”

“Enough!” I cried. 

“Mate, you reckon your AI can pick winners? Fine. Let’s bet. Your ChatGPT portfolio vs my boring portfolio of index funds. Ten years. Loser buys dinner every month for a year.”

I don’t need an AI to tell me the answer, I know I’m a shoe-in. That’s because years ago I sat in Omaha and watched Buffett make basically the same bet with a Wall Street hotshot. His basic, no-frills index fund versus Wall Street’s elite hedge funds.

Ten years later?

Total bloodbath. Buffett 126%, hedge funds 3% to 88%.

Why am I so sure I’ll win Barry’s bet?

First, Barry can’t help himself. His AI’s already told him a crash is coming twice this year. He’s traded in and out like a day trader with a crystal ball. The more he trades, the less he’ll make.

Second, he’s not special. Everyone has ChatGPT. If the magic lamp actually worked, we’d all be rich. Which means nobody would be.

Third, Barry thinks he’s discovered the future. But he’s actually just automated his worst impulses.

Here’s the thing that ChatGPT fails at:

Getting rich isn’t about being clever. It's about resisting the urge to be clever.

See you in 10 years, Barry. I’ll take my steak medium rare.

Tread Your Own Path!

The $50,000 Crust Pizza

Scott,

My 22-year-old daughter worked at a Crust Pizza store. They owe her $2,500 in unpaid super. She did everything right: approached the owners, contacted head office, then reported it to the ATO. Everyone said it would be paid. It wasn’t. The ATO’s response? Basically bad luck. How can employers legally be required to pay super, yet face zero consequences when they don’t? What can she do?

Wendy

Hi Wendy,

She’s in good company.

Around 2.8 million Aussies get dudded on super every year. 

The figures burn like a Mexican pizza: $100 million doesn’t get paid each week.

Worse, the system’s a joke: most employers don’t even cop a fine.

However, from July 2026, bosses must pay super within seven days of wages or face real penalties.

(Or so says the Minister’s press release.).

Now what can you do?

You’ve done everything you can … so maybe I can add a couple of jalapenos to the mix.

After all, that $2,500?

It would have compounded for 45 years and be worth as much as $50,000 at her retirement!

So here’s what your daughter should tell every 22-year-old she knows: check your super fund directly – not your payslip. Payslips show what should be paid, not what actually lands. Trust no one. Check everything!

Oh, and a note to Crust Pizza’s media communications executive who is reading this right now:

There’s nothing gourmet about wage theft.

Pay the kid the damn money!

Send me an email (scott@barefootinvestor.com) and I’ll give you the details.

Go on, earn your crust, and I’ll report back next week.

Teaching My Kids About Death (And Taxes)

Hi Scott,

I’ve followed you for years and your tips helped me get debt free except the mortgage. My question: Should I ‘tax’ my seven-year-old when he works? We’re sorting out our garden area and my son wants to help earn money to buy an $85 toy. We agreed on rates: $1 per hole, 50c to plant and water each plant (about 40 going in), plus weekly watering fees. 

I jokingly said I’d need a tax invoice. This led to a conversation about tax. I explained I’d take 20% tax and 10% super – so his earnings would be 30% less than expected. I’ll put that money into his bank account. Is this smart financial education? Or should I let him earn, save, and appreciate hard work – just stick with the three buckets?

Gary

Hi Gary,

You’ve totally overcooked it mate.

You have three goals with this: 

First, to get him outside in the fresh air and away from screens.

Second, to show him that hard work pays off.

Third, to get a pay-off yourself: you’re creating happy memories that you can draw on when he becomes a scowling, grunting teen.

Go create those memories, Gary.

And when you two have finished a hard day’s work, take him out for a celebratory ice-cream.

And just as he’s unwrapping his Cornetto, I want you to snatch it and take a huge bite out of it.

Explain that it’s the ‘dad tax’.

My Boyfriend Is Rich (and Black)

Scott,

My new boyfriend is very successful. He has a black Amex, which he says has an ‘unlimited’ balance (as in he could buy a house with it). I’m not sure if he’s joking. He says the points are insane, which bodes well for overseas trips in business class! 

Jess

Hi Jess,

I can picture this dude:

Strong cologne. Leased Mercedes. Blinding white choppers.

I am a very unimpressive person who pays with a debit card. However, I can dream.

So to answer your question I found myself, blinds drawn, googling what I call ‘penis cards’, AKA status rewards credit cards. That’s where I discovered your boy’s card. It’s the King Charles of credit cards: the American Express Centurion.

The wank factor is an 11 out of 10 straight out of the gate:

“Made of anodised titanium, it gives the card its distinctive metallic black finish. The Amex Centurion is not for everybody.”

Uh-huh.

You can only get one if you’re ‘invited’ by American Express.

And if you manage to score an invite?

There’s a $5,000 application fee. Get accepted? $6,500 a year.

Who on earth pays $11,500 for a credit card?

Tossers. 

Like your new boyfriend.

People who think that a woman will be impressed with consumer credit and blingy things.

Now, what about the points?

Well, I personally think that rewards points are so 2014. That was the year banks slashed the value of their rewards program in half (and they’ve been slashing them ever since).

Here’s what it actually looks like for the rest of us: You spend a year carefully putting every coffee, every tank of petrol, every everything on the card. You rack up points. You finally book that ‘free’ flight to Queensland. Then you sit down and do the maths – really do it – and realise you paid $395 in annual fees to earn a $420 flight.

You saved $25.

Congratulations. You earned $2 a month for being Qantas’s loyal little data stream.

And it’s getting worse.  As a result of the RBA clamping down on bank fees, the banks are slashing point values and jacking up credit card fees. 

But not quite as high as your boyfriend is paying – that dude is in a league of his own.

The next crash is coming

You wake up and check your phone. The markets have opened, and your super is down 25%.

$125,000 gone. Just like that.

What do you do?

I get asked this question constantly, dressed up in different apocalypse scenarios. The US defaults on its debts. A global recession hits. China invades Taiwan. The AI bubble bursts. 

Truthfully?

Every investor has their own disaster movie playing in their head. 

The problem is you’ve created a story … and it’s almost certainly wrong.

I know this because every story I’ve created has been wrong too:

I was convinced Trump’s 18% tariffs would skewer the world’s largest economy.  

Didn’t happen. 

I thought AI was overhyped by Silicon Valley grifters and would crash. 

Hasn’t happened (yet).

So, faced with all this doubt and fear, how do I continue staying in stocks?

Well, my secret to investing is the same as my marriage: 

Low expectations and permanent paranoia.

I expect the share market to deliver around 7% after inflation over the long term. Nothing more. 

I stay away from whatever Wall Street is selling (like private credit) and stick to index funds.

Finally, I keep years of living expenses in cash and fixed interest (yes, it reduces my returns, but it lets me sleep at night).

Now back to your nightmare where your super has evaporated.

What do you think you would do faced with that news?

Your answer to this question tells you everything about whether your portfolio is right for you, or a disaster waiting to happen.

Does it make you want to panic and sell? 

If so, panic early. Talk to your super fund about reducing your exposure to the markets.

Does it make you want to buy more shares on the cheap? 

Then you likely need more cash sitting ready to pounce when it happens.

Look, the crash will come. It always does. The key to sleeping soundly is to open your eyes and live through it today.

Tread Your Own Path!

A Reminder from a Survivor

Hey Scott,

I read your book at 21, bought a home at 26 … then got cancer at 34. Following the Barefoot steps made my diagnosis manageable. Three months of saved expenses (Mojo) saw me through treatment until my Income Protection kicked in. No financial pressure to return to work whilst I continue immunotherapy.

However, sharing my story with friends (most with large mortgages and small children), it terrifies me how many don't have adequate Income Protection.

My message: spend 30 minutes checking your super fund's default cover. Ask yourself if it's enough when the worst happens. You never want to claim it, but if you need it, it's a financial life raft.

Ellie

Hi Ellie,

This is important. 

I don’t want to put the mozz on anyone, but Ellie didn’t think this was going to happen to her either.

I consider this a Public Service Announcement from a tough as nails survivor.

Act accordingly.   

Thank you for reading!

What’s the Catch?

Hi Scott,

Long time reader, first time writer! After comparing super funds I was contacted by Sue from (FINANCIAL PLANNING FIRM’S NAME DELETED BY BAREFOOT’S LAWYERS) and after answering a lot of questions they’ve suggested I move my $70k Rest super (growth index) to an AMP super where they say they can manage it and improve my return from 9% (500k retirement) to approx 15% (1M+ retirement) due to the larger variety of investing options. The only catch is a one off transfer fee of $3,300 and I’m certain they mentioned another fee of about 1.65% which I believe was recurring. What do you think? 

Barry

Barry,

No. No. No.

Barry, just … no.

We are not doing this. Not on my watch.  You haven’t been reading me for this many years to get screwed by some cocker spaniel cold caller.

They are lying to you.

The catch isn’t just the $3,300 one off fee. That’s gerbil feed in the scheme of things. 

The real snatch is that they are TRIPLING your annual fees. That will end up costing you hundreds of thousands of dollars over your working life.

From your super account to Sue’s savings account.

Barry, stick with your low cost industry fund.

If you want to boost your returns, cut your fees. You could consider moving your current investment option to high growth index funds.

Don’t take the call, make the call: to your super fund.

Scott

Help! I’ve Ruined My Husband’s Life

Hi Scott,

I'm overwhelmed, emotional and don't have any closer friends I can speak to or confide in. My husband and I recently brought a new house but the loan is eating up most of my pay. (He loves cars and we have 4 at the moment, but only use 2 at any time!) My husband said to me yesterday that he hates his life and that he hates never going on holidays and having fun like everyone else.  He's intimated that he's had a dreadful life since he's met me, and to be fair that's not wrong. And to top it off, I'm just recently pregnant. Please help.

Sandra

Sandra,

This isn't a money problem. This is your husband telling his pregnant wife that she's ruined his life … while he parks four cars in the driveway.

You're building a nest. He's building a hot wheels collection. And now he's blaming you for the fact that his choices have consequences. It sounds like you’ll soon have two babies to look after.

Here's what needs to happen:

You both sit down and have an honest conversation about what actually matters now. You will soon have a baby. You want them to grow up safe and secure, without the two of you fighting and stressing about money.

Tell him: "Here's what's important to me: Our baby. Our family. And not living under constant financial pressure."

Then be specific: "We need to sell at least two of these cars. We need a budget that doesn't eat my entire pay. And we need to stop pretending we can afford a lifestyle we can't."

Sandra, this must be incredibly stressful. The natural reaction is to sweep this under the rug and hope it gets better. Don't do that. 

Given you don't have close friends to confide in, I want you to reach out to a financial counsellor (1800 007 007). You need someone in your corner. In time, hopefully this will include your husband, but for now, you're in crisis and you need support and quickly. You need this sorted well before the baby comes.

Scott

The final letter

My hero, Warren Buffett, officially "went quiet" this week.

After 60 years of writing to shareholders, and having the world hang on his every word, he delivered his final piece of advice. And what he chose to say will surprise you ... especially if you feel like life is passing you by.

Yet I'm getting ahead of myself.

In a world drowning in financial influencers, best selling authors (gulp), and alpha-male gurus telling you how to get rich, Buffett has always been the one voice worth listening to.

Not just because of his billions, but because of how he earned them: living in small-town Nebraska, in the same house for decades, driving an average car, tap dancing to work each morning.

So what did he choose to say in his swan song?

Not a word about stock picks. Not one insight about beating the market.

Here's what one of the most successful people in history has worked out over his 95 years:

"Greatness does not come about through accumulating great amounts of money, great amounts of publicity or great power in government. When you help someone in any of thousands of ways, you help the world. Kindness is costless but also priceless."

Look, I'm well aware that billionaires can sell a perfect image of themselves to the world … yet you can't fake what your kids think of you. And I've spent time with Buffett's children. He sent them to public schools, encouraged them to follow their passions, and raised good humans instead of trust-fund brats. As a result they're humble, kind people who help others. Just like their dad.

And his final lesson? 

It's not too late for you.

He told the story of Alfred Nobel. When Nobel's brother died, a newspaper accidentally published Alfred's obituary instead. Nobel read his own death notice and was horrified: the world saw him as a merchant of death who'd made millions from explosives.

He changed his life completely that day, and today we remember him for the Nobel Prize, not dynamite.

Here's what Buffett wrote:

"I'm happy to say I feel better about the second half of my life than the first. Don't beat yourself up over past mistakes – learn from them and move on. It is never too late to improve."

It's never too late.

So tonight, instead of scrolling past another content creator farming your attention for ad revenue, close your eyes and think about your funeral.

What do you want people to say about you?

No one will bother talking about your car. Your house. Your title at work.

They'll tell stories of you being humble and kind.

Here’s Buffett’s advice: 

"Decide what you would like your obituary to say and live the life to deserve it."

So, open your notes app on your phone, and write your own obituary.

Then go give them some stories to tell.

Tread Your Own Path!

If You Could See Me Now

Hi Scott,

Ten years ago I was a 40-year-old woman leaving a violent relationship and facing $50,000 of debt that my ex had taken out in my name. I thought bankruptcy was my only option. Then my sister handed me your book. As I started reading, something clicked – a light came on – and I began working my way through the mess. During that time, I changed jobs and slowly paid off the debt. At the same time, I managed to save enough for a house deposit. I bought my first home and, using your principles, I’ve continued to put every pay rise and promotion toward my mortgage. This week, I’ll be making my final payment; my mortgage will be completely paid off! I couldn’t have done it without The Barefoot Investor. Thank you for helping me turn my life around.

Katy

Hey Katy,

That’s an incredible story.

You’re not the same person who picked up that book.

In order to achieve what you’ve achieved, you’ve had to become a new person. And that isn’t easy. But you’ve done it.

There are lots of people reading this right now who are in the situation you were in, and don’t believe they can do it. 

You’re testament to the fact that it can be done.

Should I Tell My Kids How Much I Earn?

Scott,

I need a second opinion on a years-long family dispute. My husband and I have three high schoolers who keep demanding to know our salaries. I’m all for teaching kids about money early, but we’ve always considered our earnings private – not something to share with friends or family. I also worry about the assumptions they’ll make: that salary equals lifestyle, or that our numbers will either discourage or mislead them when choosing careers. What’s your take? Should we tell our kids how much we earn? 

Kathryn

Hi Kathryn,

Well, you can do what you want with your kids, but for me … it’s a HELL NO.

One day my eldest was noodling about on his calculator when he point blank asked me:

“Dad, you’ve sold three million books, right? How much does each copy sell for?”

I just stared at him.

“Not as much as you think, mate.”

Look, the problem with telling kids how much money you make is that they have zero context about how much it costs to live as a grown-up. Even for your teenagers, their financial frame of reference is $4 vapes and $14 an hour flipping burgers.

A hundred grand a year may as well be Scrooge McDuck swimming in your coin pool to them.

My view? It’s none of their business how much money you earn.

Yet what’s critical is that they watch you modelling good money behaviours.

How do you do that?

First, you give them context. Hand them their financial L-plates and let them sit in on bill paying and some spending decisions. Maybe put them in charge of monitoring the electricity bill and shopping around for a better deal.

It also means you don’t lie to them. If you’re wealthy, don’t say “I can't afford that”. The kids will see right through it, especially if they see you spending money on other stuff.

Instead say, “I don’t want to spend my money on that”.

That sends a powerful message: you choose where your money goes, and it’s YOUR money, not theirs.

Having their own pocket money helps here. With my kids I explain that their Jam Jars are like my bank accounts – neither has an endless supply. If they really truly want something, they can do what you did: work hard, save up, and buy it themselves.

Finally, in terms of choosing their careers, I tell my kids all the time:

I’ve had a huge element of luck in my career. It’s not normal to sell so many books. There are plenty of more talented writers who haven’t been so lucky. However, they also know that I still turn up and enjoy my work even though most of the time I’m not getting paid. That’s how you know you’ve found the right career.

Your job isn’t to give them a salary target to aim for, it’s to help them find work that matters to them.

Scott

The Worst Question EVER

Hi Scott,

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

Sharron

Sharron,

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

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

“Have you ever thought about killing yourself?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good luck.

One more thing: 

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

Scott

The worst question

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was having a bad week.

Yet it was about to get worse.

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

BAM! 

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

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

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

“Fair enough”, I said.

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

“They’ll love that.”

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

Here’s what I told him:

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

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

Tread Your Own Path!

Sorry, But Your Son is a Loser

Hi Scott,

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

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

Mary

Mary,

This made my blood BOIL.

Do you know what makes this just so utterly outrageous?

The fact that it's so completely normal!

It ain't just your boys, Mary:

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

One in three!

Yet it makes perfect sense when you think about it.

After all, we are a nation of gambling addicts.

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

That doesn't happen by chance.

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

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

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

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

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

Nor do our sporting codes.

In fact, they take their money.  

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

No, really.

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

Hang on, why would a gambling lobby want this?

Maybe because they see it as a recruitment drive.

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

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

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

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

Here's how I'd do it:

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

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

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

Finally, I'd tell them this truth:

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

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

To get you to bet.

Why?

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

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

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

To send a message to these suits to bugger off.

To tell them you know their game is up:

“Gambling is for losers”.

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

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

So why are they on TikTok? 

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

My view?

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

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

It's time we bet on our kids.

My week from hell

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

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

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

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

So naturally, this is when my editor rings:

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

Of course it is.

Breathe.

Newsflash: The price of everything is too damned high.

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

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

Grab your phone and go sit on the toilet.

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

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

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

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

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

The key with mortgage stress is simple: Panic early.

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

Tread Your Own Path!

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

Annie's Wish

Dear Scott,

My granddaughter, Annie, is 17. Earlier this year she was diagnosed with Stage 2 Hodgkin's Lymphoma. She's been through chemo, lost her hair, and has been dealing with everything that comes with fighting cancer as a teenager. Before she got sick, she was a go-getter, umpiring footy at 14, working three jobs during school holidays, reading your books cover to cover. She's saved $12,000 and wants to invest it, but between the chemo brain and everything else, she hasn't been able to figure out how. The Starlight Foundation granted her a wish - including meeting a celebrity. She thought about asking to meet you for financial advice, but decided the family should do something more "fun" together. Her question: should she invest her $12K now as a minor, or wait until she turns 18 in six months? She needs to buy a car next year but also wants to start investing for her future.

Annie’s Gran Helen

I’m going to write directly to Annie, so Gran, please cut and paste this and send it over to her!

Dear Annie, 

Most 17-year-olds can't see how much potential they have. But you can. Because you've seen how precious life is. You've come through this horrible time with steel and grace. And now you want to make your life count.

Here's what I'd suggest.

First focus on security. Keep your $12,000 in that high-interest account for now. When you turn 18, you can easily auto-invest in low-cost index funds via an investing app. The six months won't matter. You've got decades ahead of you.

Then get yourself back on track. Focus on your health. Finish school. Get back to work when you can. You're already miles ahead of everyone your age just by having saved $12K and thinking about your future. Next year, buy yourself a reliable used car - nothing fancy - when you need it. Then invest what's left. And once you're through this - and you will get through this - you're going to travel. You're going to learn. You're going to thrive. Hard times create strong people.

You're proof of that.

Oh and Annie, about that Starlight wish. Use it for something fun with your family - you're right about that. But I'd still like to meet you. Let's talk when you're feeling better. I'll help you build your financial plan properly. 

Next year is your year.

Scott

Abusive Mum Dies, With One Last Trick

Hi Scott,

I’m in a pickle. My brother and I are close, and we stopped talking to our Mum about 7 years ago after years of pretty severe abuse by her. We heard about 2 years ago she had an incurable disease, and just found out that she has now passed away.

The issue is, our Mum met a man a few weeks before being diagnosed and then married him. We don’t know this man, but he will be the sole beneficiary of everything she has, including a house she inherited from our late grandmother, also after our Mum was diagnosed.

My brother and I don’t think it’s right that this man gets everything - we never wanted to stop speaking to our Mum, but unfortunately that’s how life went. And I know - we already wiped our hands clean of her years ago, and could do the same with her assets. But it just doesn’t feel right. Where do we even begin?

Casey

Hi Casey,

I'm sorry you're going through this. You should listen to your gut. This timeline has more red flags than a Chinese Embassy. Let me tick them off: Mum meets man. Gets an incurable diagnosis. Marries him. Inherits Grandma's house. Dies. Leaves everything to a stranger.

That's bonkers!

So I ran this past my lawyer, Dr Brett Davies from Legal Consolidated. 

Here's what you can challenge:

First, the will could be dodgy: Did she have mental capacity while battling disease? Was she unduly influenced by this bloke? Courts can bin dodgy wills.

Second, the will could be unfair. Even if valid, you can argue for adequate provision. Courts say parents have a moral duty to provide for their kids, regardless of relationship.

Finally, the sleeper issue is your grandmother’s house. Get your grandmother’s will immediately. She may have only given your mum a life interest, the right to live there, not own it. If so, it automatically comes to you and your brother, not this stranger.

So here’s what I want you to do: get both wills, the marriage certificate, and title deeds. Find a deceased estate litigation lawyer through your state’s Law Society (you need courtroom brawlers, not gentlemanly will-writers). You've got six to 12 months from death or probate. Miss it and your claim dies.

Honestly, these fights are expensive and ugly. Have a meeting with your lawyer, understand your position, then you and your brother can decide together.

You've already survived years of abuse. If this will consume the next two years of your life, you have every right to walk away. You don't need to fight her anymore. You're free.

Peace be with you.

Scott