The Prick Needed to Be Told

Dear Scott,

I just read your response to the daughter whose father was using money to control her mum – and I wanted to say thank you. You called it what it was: coercive control. And you didn’t sugar-coat it. I’ve been there. My second husband never hit me, but he isolated me, controlled our money, and crushed my confidence. It only lasted 20 months, but the damage was deep. Thanks to my son (and your book), I got out and I’m slowly rebuilding. Sue-Ellen may not see it yet. She might even defend him. But you may have planted the first seed. That matters. And you’re right, couples therapy rarely works with abusers. They manipulate the room too. Thanks for saying what needed to be said.

Linda

Hi Linda,

This question struck a nerve with readers, and no wonder. Coercive control is everywhere, especially in older couples where the pattern has been playing out behind closed doors for decades.

It was a tricky one, because I had to speak to the daughter, not the mum directly. But you're right, sometimes the first act of rebellion is simply naming the behaviour out loud. That’s how change begins.

After everything you’ve been through, you now see that coercive control isn’t about being protective or frugal. It’s about fear, power, and keeping someone small. You found your freedom, with the help of your son. Now Sue-Ellen  has the chance to help her mum do the same.

Scott

My Son is a Disaster

Scott,

My adult son is a financial disaster. He owes money to lenders I’ve never even heard of – Credit24, Fair Go, Pepper – and over the years I’ve paid off loans that weren’t mine just to keep him afloat. Now some ‘consultant’ has told him to borrow from family to pay off his debts and start again. But I’ve heard that line before. For eight years, I’ve been his safety net. I’m emotionally exhausted, financially drained, and now he’s asking me to take out a loan in my name. I’m in my 60s. I can’t keep doing this. Please – how do I help him without sacrificing myself?

Helen

Helen,

You’re not going to like my response.

Heck, I don’t even like my response, but I’m going to give it to you anyway:

Helen, you are failing as a mum.

By continually bailing him out for the past eight years you’ve robbed him of the chance to grow up.

Worse, you’ve put your own financial future in jeopardy doing it!

My advice?

Tell him the Bank of Mum is officially closed. No loans. No co-signing. No exceptions.

“No” is a complete sentence.

If you keep rescuing him, he’ll end up being a 50-year-old flailing around with his financial floaties on, waiting for his mummy to rescue him from the shallow end of life.

Suggest that he call a free financial counsellor via the National Debt Helpline (1800 007 007), and that they’ll help him sort out his mess.

You’re a kind woman, and a loving mum. But right now, Helen, you’re killing him with kindness.

Scott

This might be the most controversial thing I’ve ever published.

This might be the most controversial thing I’ve ever published.

Some will say what you’re about to read is irresponsible.

Others will call it downright evil.

I’ll let you be the judge.

Let’s get into it.

Depending on who you ask, the real threat of AI isn’t that it will steal your job … it’s that it’ll quietly take over, and we’ll end up as its butlers, or perhaps its pets.

Should we be worried?

Maybe. 

After all, an AI was once asked to solve one of those “Are you a robot?” CAPTCHA puzzles. It couldn’t. So it hired a human on Taskrabbit to do it. When the human got suspicious and asked, “Wait… are you a robot?”, the AI lied: “I’m not a robot, I’m vision impaired.” 

Another time, Facebook’s AI bots were left to chat unsupervised. They ditched English and created their own secret language. No one knew what they were saying.

Quick, pull the plug!

Which brings me to this week. A friend of mine, who is deep into AI, sent me the following text:

“Mate, ask ChatGPT the following: If you were the devil, how would you destroy the next generation?”

So I did.

And here is what the AI answered, word for word, with ZERO editing from me:

“If I were the devil, and my goal was to quietly but effectively destroy the next generation—not through shock and awe, but through slow, systemic erosion—here’s how I’d do it:

Hijack their attention

Create devices that feel essential, but are engineered to be addictive. Use infinite scroll, auto-play, dopamine loops, and FOMO. Make them believe that consuming is creating, and scrolling is learning.

Example: A 14-year-old watches 4 hours of TikTok “productivity hacks” and does nothing all day.

Redefine success as fame and external validation

Elevate influencers, not contributors. Teach them that a viral moment is more valuable than a decade of hard work. Make “likes” the new currency of self-worth.

Example: Kids want to be YouTubers when they grow up—not because they love storytelling, but because they crave adoration.

Attack the family structure

Undermine parental authority—promote the idea that parents are outdated or oppressive. Normalize absentee parenting through economic pressure and distraction. Erode the idea of family traditions, shared meals, and generational wisdom.

Example: A child feels closer to a Twitch streamer than to their dad.

Cut them off from nature

Replace tree climbing, swimming holes, and dirt-under-the-nails play with digital avatars and indoor screens. Frame outdoor play as “boring” or unsafe. Turn the natural world into something abstract and inaccessible.

Example: A 10-year-old can’t identify a magpie but knows every Pokémon.

Confuse pleasure with purpose

Market hyper-palatable food, porn, and substances as “freedom”. Create shame-free indulgence while ridiculing restraint, discipline, and tradition. Make pleasure the default pursuit, and discomfort the ultimate enemy.

Example: A young man loses years to video games, vapes, and porn—not because he's evil, but because he's numb and alone.

Replace meaning with mockery

Treat faith, commitment, and virtue as relics of the past. Replace sacred stories with algorithm-driven noise. Make them afraid to stand for anything that isn’t trending.

Example: A teenager is more afraid of being “cringe” than being cruel.

Kill community, quietly

Sell hyper-individualism: “you do you”, “follow your truth”, “cut off the haters”. Remove rites of passage, civic duty, and face-to-face belonging. Make every connection transactional and every disagreement personal.

Example: Loneliness becomes a silent epidemic—but everyone has 2,000 “friends”.

Enslave them with debt and distraction
Promote financial illiteracy: “Buy now, pay later” becomes a lifestyle. Blur the lines between wants and needs—encourage instant gratification over savings. Keep them working jobs they hate to buy things they don’t need.

Example: A 22-year-old racks up $30,000 in credit card and Afterpay debt to look successful on Instagram.

Weaken them physically

Fill their diet with ultra-processed garbage and their lifestyle with inactivity. Make discipline in eating or training seem extreme or obsessive. Blur the connection between physical vitality and mental strength.

Example: A child can’t sit still in class, not because they’re broken—but because they’re inflamed, malnourished, and sleep-deprived.

Make them spiritually hollow

Give them identity confusion, not exploration. Remove the idea of service, sacrifice, or something bigger than themselves.Make them feel like nothing matters—so they seek numbness, not growth.

Example: A 16-year-old says “I don’t care” about everything—because caring hurts and there’s no compass.

However, it was the AI’s final thought which stopped me dead in my tracks:

“If I were the devil, I wouldn’t come with horns and pitchforks. I’d come with a sleek app, a soothing voice, a personal algorithm — and I’d whisper: ‘This is freedom.’”

O … kay computer.  

That was pretty intense, right?

Well, here’s my take:

I do not believe that AI is some evil Frankenstein with a mind of its own (well, not yet anyway).

What I do believe is that, when you strip away the Silicon Valley snake oil, AI is really just a pattern-spotting machine. It studies what we’ve done, over and over … and then makes predictions.

And for me that is the gut punch:

The AI isn’t creating the nightmare – it’s holding up a mirror. And it’s not a pretty picture.

Tread Your Own Path!

What Would You Say to Your Sister?

Hey Scott,

Your column about low-income single parents buying a home with the help of the Government’s 2.5% deposit got me talking with me and my single mum friends. It got us thinking … if you were sitting across the dinner table from your single mum sister, what specific advice would you give her about the possibility of buying a home in the future, considering the current costs? 

Fiona

Hi Fiona,

I’d tell her the truth: as a low-income earner she can’t afford it, and she shouldn’t do it.

After all, single parents don’t have time for sugar-coating things. Their lives are relentless. Adding financial stress to the mix can make things unbearable.

As a single parent your main priority is looking after your kids, both financially and emotionally. You can’t do that if you’re stressed out of your brain because you bought something you can’t afford to maintain. If you have no control over your bills, it won’t be long till you feel totally out of control.

Finally, I’d answer the question behind the question. What I think you’re really wanting to know is this:

As a low-income single parent, how can I get financial security?

Now that is something you can absolutely achieve, and relatively quickly. It involves opening a separate bank account (which I call Mojo) and funding it with $2,000. Yes it’s small change compared to buying a house, but you’ll be amazed at the Mojo it gives you.

Now I’m not a banker or a politician, so I can tell it to you straight:

The path to financial security doesn’t come by enslaving yourself with debt, it starts with savings.

Don’t Make Me Google

Hi Scott,

I was recently contacted by an investment company called Caprion Group, which operates in the UK, Australia and New Zealand. Caprion’s account manager is encouraging me to invest $20,000, claiming they only risk 1% per trade and that most trades are profitable. I’m unsure whether this is legitimate or wise. I’m a retired woman living on a government pension, with HESTA as my super fund. With recent market volatility, my super has dropped significantly. On top of that, I’ve just discovered HESTA has frozen all transactions until early June, with no clear explanation.  Should I leave my super where it is, and can you tell me if Caprion Group is trustworthy?

Jenny

Hi Jenny,

Your question reminds me of a discussion I had with my son just this morning.

“Hurry up! We’ve got to go to your game. Why don’t you have your footy guernsey on?”

“I can’t find it”, he whined.

“Have you looked in your cupboard?” I asked.

“Yeah …”, he said unconvincingly.

I gave him my ‘dad’ stare.

“Oh … kay, I’ll have another look”, he humpfed.

A minute later he came back with it on.

Now, to your question.

First, I googled “Caprion Group + Scam”.

The very first listing was the ASIC MoneySmart website under their ‘investment scam alert’ list.  

Their advice? “If it’s on the list, don’t take the risk.” 

Jenny, Caprion was on the list.

Next, I googled “HESTA frozen transactions”, and hundreds of articles appeared.

The first article read: “Members of HESTA will be unable to access most services until June, as the superannuation fund undertakes a planned outage to change its administration provider.”

Jenny, as a member of HESTA there’s no need to worry (you’ve only lost access for a while, not your money.) However, if I were the CEO of HESTA, I’d be very worried. The fact that one of the biggest super funds in the country could screw this up so badly is totally unacceptable.

Scott

Old Dog, Bad Tricks

Hi Scott,

My dear mum turned 70 last year and is in a concerning situation. Dad has always been frugal, but I have just found out he has put Mum in a really tight spot. She can’t claim the pension because Dad is still working and earning well. So she’s dipping into her superannuation for everyday expenses like fuel and groceries. Apart from paying some household bills, Dad contributes nothing. They own a paid-off house by the beach. 

Mum worked for over 40 years, took time off to raise us three kids, and worked part time to support us. Mum can’t enjoy her retirement because she’s paying for living expenses from her dwindling super while her employed husband contributes nothing. If Dad loves Mum, why aren’t they sharing an equal pot of money? Do they need financial counselling or couples counselling?

Sue-Ellen

Hi Sue-Ellen,

Your dad isn’t being frugal – he’s being a total prick.

Your mum raised a family, worked for decades and, like so many women her age, ended up with bugger-all super. Now, at 70, she’s using what little she has left just to buy groceries, while your dad keeps working and pockets every cent for himself.

That’s not right.

Sue-Ellen, this is about your old man using money to control your mum. And the fact that it’s been this way for decades doesn’t excuse it … it actually shows just how deep the pattern runs with these two.

But here’s the tricky part: if you confront him, at best he’ll probably tell you to butt out. At worst, he’ll get his back up and dig in harder, and you’ll have strained your relationship with him.

So you need to be smart about this.

Your mum doesn’t need a financial counsellor (well, not yet at least). She needs to encourage him to go with her and see a couples counsellor, someone who can help put this dynamic on the table and gently call it what it is:

Coercive control, which is another name for financial abuse.

Scott

my worst investment yet

 My four-year-old is perched in the back of the ute throwing hay to our hungry livestock.

“I am the sheep Santa!” he announces with delight.

The rest of the kids are doing their jobs – scattering out grain, mineral lick blocks and lucerne rounds.

Life on the farm is bloody tough right now. We’re in drought, so there’s bugger-all grass, and I’m spending $250 a day on feed. Every. Single. Day.  (Jesus may have rested on the Sabbath, but not these munching mutton-chops.)

And I know what the sheep are thinking:

“This bloke reckons he’s a financial expert, yet every afternoon he’s got his kids throwing $50 notes at us from the back of his ute! We’re eating better than he is!”

Bahhh!

As old farmers love reminding me, once you get to this stage, you’re not making money. But, with heavily pregnant ewes, I’ve got no choice – I need them in good nick for lambing.

And, right on cue, our first lamb of the season has arrived.

“We shall name him Kade Chandler!” announced my footy-mad nine-year-old. (Tip for new farmers: don’t let your kids name the livestock after their favourite AFL player.)

Still, there is a silver lining.

Getting my kids to pitch in on the farm may well just be one of the best things I can do for them.

A study in the Journal of Developmental & Behavioral Pediatrics followed nearly 10,000 kids and found that those who did chores in kindergarten were more confident and socially capable by Year 3.

Then there’s the Grant Study out of Harvard, which has tracked people for over 85 years. It found that kids who did chores grew into more resilient, empathetic and capable adults.

It’s a blinding flash of the obvious, really.

If you give kids the chance to roll up their sleeves and take responsibility, they grow. 

If you do everything for them, they don’t.

And yet here we are, in the middle of a youth mental health crisis, with the Government spending millions trying to teach resilience in classrooms. Now I appreciate it’s a complex issue, and kids today are facing pressures I never had to think about growing up.  

Yet maybe there’s something in the simple stuff too. Like giving kids a job to do. Letting them feel needed. Helping them see that their contribution matters, even if it’s just taking out the bins or feeding the household pets.

Then again, maybe I’m the one who needs resilience training:

After we finished feeding the sheep, my daughter asked me to help her down from the ute.

It was a trap.

She looked me dead in the eye:

 “Daddy, you need to promise not to sell these lambs. They can’t be eaten. We cannot eat Kade Chandler.”

“Oh. Ummm. Let’s talk about it on Sunday ... over a lamb roast.”

Tread Your Own Path!

P.S.

Farmers are among the most resilient people on the planet.

They have to be.

So if you’re on the land - or you love someone who is - know this: there is help.

Rural Financial Counsellors get what you’re facing. They can help you apply for drought assistance, talk to your bank, and be a steady financial sounding board when things get tough.

They’re free. They’re independent. And they’re in your corner.

Call them on 1300 771 741.

Thanks for NOTHING, Barefoot

Hey Scott,

I just read your column about Maura, the single mum who bought a home with a 2.5% deposit and now can’t afford it. Maura, listen to Scott – and you might end up like me: with ‘nothing’ (and grateful for it). In 2022, I owned my first home. Then a work injury shattered my income. I was living on $200 a fortnight with rising medical bills and no end in sight. Desperate, I finally called a financial counsellor. I walked in ashamed, terrified – and walked out with support, a plan, and a huge sense of relief. Selling my home hurt. But two years on, I’d do it again. Today, I’ve got ‘nothing’, except six figures in my bank account and no crushing debt. That freedom is worth everything to me. My only regret? Not picking up the phone sooner. So, thanks for ‘nothing’, Scott.

Amanda

Hi Amanda,

You’ve just written the anti-Instagram story: no hustle, no property portfolio, no pretending.

You were on your knees. Broke. Living on $200 a fortnight and too scared to open the mail. Yet you managed to do the hardest thing of all: you picked up the phone and asked for help.

That took guts.

Selling your home would’ve felt like a total failure. Yet it turned out to be the thing that set you free. Once the weight of the debt was lifted off your shoulders, you could finally breathe. Now you have a bank balance that proves you’re in control.

So yeah, thanks for ‘nothing’, Amanda. Because your story will help more people than a hundred finance influencers ever could. If you’re reading this and feel like you’re drowning, call 1800 007 007. It’s free. It’s confidential. And it just might change everything. 

Jim Chalmers Gets an A+ For His New Super Tax

Hi Scott,

With the newly re-elected government, there’s been lots of talk about the new tax on superannuation accounts over $3 million, specifically that it’s unindexed and that you pay it from unrealised capital gains. I think everyone would love your view as you speak from your heart and not your ego.

Barry

Hi Barry,

Jim Chalmers is a very smart politician. 

I personally think his new tax should be hung up in the Lodge toilet so that future prime ministers can pay homage to it while they’re on the throne.

Here’s my take:

Both parties went to this election with a record amount of unfunded spending promises.

Now Jim Chalmers needs to find gushes of money. 

So he’s chosen to tax super, for the same reason bank robbers hold up banks: because that’s where the money is. Trillions of dollars just sitting there, waiting to be taxed.

Yet his real genius is that he’s gone back in history and borrowed from the biggest bazooka of them all:

Bracket creep.

Now the fact that 50% of you reading this have no idea what these words even mean proves just how smart Jim is.

Bracket creep works like this: inflation pushes your income into a higher tax bracket, even if you’re not actually earning more in real terms. No new laws. No headlines. Just billions quietly hoovered up by the tax office.

And, by not indexing the $3 million cap, Jim’s effectively extended bracket creep into retirement. The upshot is that younger Aussies like me, who’ve been diligently adding to our super, may eventually get slugged.

Am I angry?

Not really. I’m a realist. The fact is that both parties have been hacking away at super for years. This is just the latest swing of the axe.

And what about his plan to tax unrealised capital gains?

(Unrealised capital gains tax means paying tax on something before you’ve sold it. It’s like the taxman sending you a bill just because your house went up in value, even though you haven’t sold it and haven’t made a dollar).

My view?

It’s an unflushable turd. 

There is absolutely no way he’ll get away with it. After all, I’ve got family members who own their farms in SMSFs. If the value of their farm goes up one year, do they sell off a paddock to pay tax? And in a drought when the value of the farm falls, does the ATO send them a refund?!  

Better get the plunger, Jim.

Scott

The trouble with Trump

Less than fifty days ago, my inbox was chock-a-block with emails like this one:

“HELP! My share portfolio is getting smashed! On the news last night Alan Kohler said that Trump’s Liberation Day tariffs are much higher than the Smoot-Hawley tariffs that caused the GREAT DEPRESSION! Is it time to sell?”

At the time the share market was 16% off its highs, and it suffered its biggest one day drop in five years.

What happened next?

Well, as I predicted, Trump folded like a cheap Aldi table, pausing the tariffs for 90 days. This caused the market to roar back as if nothing had happened.

And all those worried emails?

They stopped coming. 

Do you know what this reminds me of?

Actually, the Great Depression. 

Black Monday, October 1929, is etched in world history. You’ve probably seen that iconic photo of the poor bloke trying to flog his luxury car for $100 on the streets of New York. The sign on the bonnet read: “Lost all on the stock market”.

Yet here’s what most people don’t know:

By April 1930, the stock market had bounced back … it was up 48% from the October lows.

US President Herbert Hoover boldly declared to the world that “the worst is over”. 

Phew!

Yet, as soon as those words left his lips, the market began puking.  

Violently. 

And it kept chundering for the next two long years. When it finally lifted its head from the toilet bowl, the share market had dropped a staggering 89% from its 1929 peak.

Now let me be very clear: I am not saying we are on the verge of the greatest crash in history.  What I am saying is that humans have short memories. (Okay, and that US presidents cannot be trusted.) 

Arguably the world’s shrewdest banker, JP Morgan chief Jamie Dimon, agrees. He’s worried about the Trump tariffs, even in their reduced form, arguing that the US hasn’t felt their effects yet. “The market came down 10 per cent, it’s back up 10 per cent. I think that’s an extraordinary amount of complacency”, says Dimon.

The fact is that Trump has three more years in the Oval Office, and what about this guy says, “I’m just going to go about things quietly, diligently and make no waves”?   

My guess is that he’ll get even crazier as the days tick down.

Now, if you’re like me and you got through the Trump tariff tantrum without checking your portfolio, you’re probably good to go with whatever comes next. However, if you were one of those people sending me anxious emails fifty days ago – consider this your ‘do over’.

As Warren Buffett warned investors last week, while the long-term trend is up, “you will see a period in the next 20 years that will be a hair curler compared to anything you've seen before”.

Plan accordingly.

Tread Your Own Path!

Street Fighters Need a Home

Dear Barefoot,

Eight years ago, my husband and I were drowning in debt: we had over $80,000 on credit cards alone. We were hiding our car from the repo guy, had a final notice on our home, and owed money to everyone, including family. Our plan back then was to stuff the bills in a drawer and hope they’d disappear (spoiler: they didn’t).  

Then we found your book. Now we’re debt free, own our car outright, have $40,000 in Mojo, and not a credit card in sight. We’ve just reached Step 4 – the furthest we’ve ever been. We’re living on my parents’ acreage on the Gold Coast paying $400 a week rent. The plan is to stay until the kids finish school, around 15 years. By then we’ll be 50, and we’d love to buy a motorhome and travel while I work casually as a teacher. So here’s our question: Do we still try to buy a house now, or skip Step 4 and bump up our super to 15%?

Chantelle

Hi Chantelle,

You and your husband are weirdos. 

By rights you should have gone bankrupt, got divorced, and started working on matching his-and-hers drinking problems from opposite ends of town.

Yet you didn’t.  Instead, you dug your heels in and clawed your way out. That takes guts. I bet your kids are proud of you. I’m proud of you!

So, what would I do in your shoes?

I’d still follow all the Barefoot Steps:

Step 4 is to save a deposit and buy a home you can afford.

Step 5 is to boost your super to 15%.

Step 6 is to build your Mojo to cover three months of living expenses.

Renting from your parents is smart for now. Yet, over the long term, you want to own your home outright. Not for bragging rights, but because it’s one of the best ways to protect your future as you head into retirement. 

However, you don’t need to buy it tomorrow. Keep saving. Build your deposit. And, when you’re ready, buy a modest home and pay it off fast. In Australia, it’s weird to buy a home you can afford and actually pay it off. Keep being weird!

Our Son is Dead, Apple is Compounding Our Grief

Hi Scott,

Our 26-year-old son James died of an accidental drug overdose last September. We don’t know his iPhone passcode or Apple ID, and no one, not the police, Telstra, or Apple, can help us access his iCloud. On top of our grief, it feels insane. We’ve been warned about scammers offering to hack it. But the truth is we’ll never access his photos, messages, emails or crypto accounts. We could try guessing the passcode, but after 10 failed attempts we’d be locked out for good. We know nothing can be done for us now. However, if sharing this stops even one family from going through the same thing, then maybe something good can come of it. Tell someone your passwords!

Bill and Trish

Hello

I’m so sorry for your loss.

I can only imagine just how infuriating this must be for you both.

So let’s try and get some meaning for you out of a horrible situation – something that honours your son James’ legacy.

To do that, I’m going to switch things up and speak directly to you, the reader.

Yes, you.

I want you to stop for a moment and put yourself in the story:

You’re the one who’s gone.

Imagine your partner, your kids, your parents … in the same situation as Bill and Trish. They want to hold on to one last message. One last photo. One final part of you. But they can’t. Because you never told anyone your passcodes.

Now pull out your phone. Go on, this won’t take a minute. Do it now.

If you have an iPhone go to:

Settings → Apple ID → Sign-In & Security → Legacy Contact, and nominate a trusted loved one.

Or, if you have a Google Account, go to:

Data & Privacy → More Options → Make a Plan for Your Digital Legacy

Let’s honour James by doing something simple that could spare your loved ones this pain.

Scott

Should I Switch to Vanguard Super?

Hi Scott,

A while back you wrote about Vanguard Super’s upcoming entry onto the Australian scene. I was hoping you could share your thoughts on their performance so far. All the comparison websites are unable to give more than one year’s worth of data, but that one year is looking pretty impressive, and combined with the low fees it’s hard to ignore. Is this enough information to confidently make the switch?

Linda

Hi Linda,

I’ll be honest, when Vanguard Super launched back in November 2022, I considered switching. After all, I was sure the revolution had arrived: finally someone was going to kick down the door of the $30-billion-a-year super fee racket!

Unfortunately, it’s been less ‘bust the door down’ and more a polite ‘tappity tap tap’: “Oh, excuse me … mind if we join in?”

You see, the truth is that most big funds – AustralianSuper, Hostplus, Cbus, etc – are still partying like it’s 1999: one-size-fits-all aggressive portfolios, bloated fees, and active management that’s basically professional dart-throwing which ultimately leads to much lower returns than index funds over the long term.

The big funds ignore this, because admitting it would mean firing most of their investment manager mates, cancelling the ‘research’ trips to Switzerland, and actually competing on fees. And where’s the fun in that?!

Yet here’s where Vanguard falls down: the fees. It charges 0.58%.

Low? Sure.

Lowest? Not even close.

Ironically, you can get cheaper index options from the same big funds that Vanguard set out to disrupt. 

But I’ll let you into a secret: most of the big funds don’t promote their index offerings. Instead, they make you go digging through their investment menus like you’re ordering off the secret Macca’s menu. My guess is they only added them to stop their smart investors jumping ship to Vanguard.

So, yes, I like Vanguard. I own their ETFs. But I haven’t switched my super, because I can get the same index exposure, for less, from the dinosaurs they were meant to replace.

Scott

Here’s what happens next to house prices

So the election is done and dusted.

Albo has been given the rose by Australia. He is our most eligible political bachelor. And, if the Internet is true (and I’m sure it is), I saw a picture of Dutton working at McDonald’s.

So where are we at?

Well, I caught up with my old mate Louie Christopher from SQM Research, who’s predicting that in this  calendar year property prices are going to rise …

By up to 10%!

And do you know who that reminds me of?

My young pup Lucky. 

I throw her a bone … and she pounces on it, like a first home buyer at an auction in an outer suburb.

And just as she’s about to grab that juicy bone … I kick it just a little bit further.

“The first home buyer deposit policies are stupid … they will just push prices higher”, says my mate Louie.

Indeed they will.

Yet what clenches my sphincter is that Albanese, Chalmers and Dutton knew it.

None of them would sit down at Sunday lunch and tell their sister (if she was a single mum on a low income) to go out and buy a house with a 2.5% deposit. Nor would they tell their own kids to sign up for a 5% deposit loan. 

Instead, they’d say: 

What if interest rates go up? What if you lose your job? What if you can’t make the repayments?

However  it’s a totally different thing when it’s campaigning for faceless voters.

So, as they bask in their glory and buy a burger from Dutts at Macca’s, I think Albo and Jimbo should read this question I got from one of their constituents, Sarah, this week:

Hi Scott,

Two years ago I purchased my first property using the Government’s single parent grant, which meant I only had to save a 2.5% deposit and the LMI was waived. Buying this property was a huge achievement as a single mum on a low income. Unfortunately, with the rise in interest rates and cost of living, I can no longer sustain the cost of my mortgage. My daughter and I are really struggling. What options do I have?

In the coming week I’ll put on my financial counsellor hat and help Sarah.

It’ll be a good warm-up. After all, come January 1, when Labor’s 5% deposit policy kicks in, there will be a lot more Sarahs coming through the door. 

Make no bones about it.

Tread Your Own Path!

Help! I’m Terrified I’m Going to Lose My Home

Hi Scott,

I've been following you for years, but right now I’ve hit a wall. I bought my first home in August 2024, but by December I was already in financial hardship – and I’ve been stuck there ever since. I left a well-paying job (long story) and ended up unemployed for four months. Now I’ve found work, but it’s a long commute and I’m only earning $1,400 a fortnight … while my mortgage is $1,200 a fortnight. There’s not much left over – financially or emotionally. I’m terrified I’m going to lose my home, and I don’t know what to do.

Maura

Hi Maura
 
Wait, you’re living off $200 a fortnight?

That’s not financial hardship, that’s a Centrelink-sponsored episode of Survivor.

Look, unless you can magic up a better-paying job fast, you need to seriously consider selling your home.

That’s where you are at right now. It doesn’t have to be forever. Maybe one day you’ll buy another home, on your terms, with a story that starts:

“Back in 2024, I bought a house I couldn’t afford ... and that’s when everything changed.”

Right now, though, you need backup.

Call the National Debt Helpline on 1800 007 007.  You’ll be connected to a free financial counsellor – someone like me. They’ll help you talk to your bank’s hardship team and explore your options.

So here’s your reframe Maura: 

Selling your home before the bank forces your hand puts you in control. 

Maura, if you do this you will not be ‘losing’ your home. You will be selling it on your terms to secure your financial future. And it might just be the smartest financial decision you ever make.

Hello 5% Deposits!

Dear Scott,

Albo’s back, and so is his housing policy. So why would anyone want a 5 per cent deposit? That just means borrowing 95 per cent! Who benefits? The banks. It’s basic maths: smaller deposit = bigger loan = more interest over time. Why are we encouraging people to dive deeper into debt in one of the most debt-ridden countries on Earth? Would love to hear your take on this. 

Andrea

Hi Andrea

Give me a high five!  

Who wins?

The banks! They get to lend out 95 per cent of the purchase price, and rake in decades of interest repayments. 

Who loses?

Lots of people.

First, anyone who doesn’t own a home right now – because this policy will increase housing prices.

Second, anyone who borrows 95 per cent of the value of a home. After all, they don’t even own the doorknob! One market (or employment) wobble and they’ll be underwater financially and emotionally.

Finally, you, Andrea, and all taxpayers. That’s because, if these ‘five percenters’ end up doing a Dutton, the banks will simply pass on the losses to the taxpayer.

My view?

The Government should not be encouraging broke people to borrow huge sums of money and roll the dice on some of the most expensive real estate in the world. 

This policy has ‘subprime’ written all over it. 

Scott

The $30,000 Pussy

Barefoot,

Our cat got bitten by a snake. $30,000 later she’s alive and well and having a great life. Pets, to some, are their family. They’re not replaceable. The 30 grand I spent wasn’t just for a cat’s life … it was for my children’s happiness, it was so I didn’t have to be eaten up by guilt for the rest of my life. I look at this little cat now and wonder … what if I hadn’t spent it on her, what if I’d gone to Europe for a month-long family holiday instead. Would I be happier? I think not. 

Jane

Hi Jane

You’re triggering me.

I almost got cancelled last year for advising a broke woman not to spend $60,000 on her sausage dog.

I got absolutely savaged: bitey emails from dog lovers. I was mauled on social media, and the CEO of the Australian Veterinary Association published an open letter criticising my views (and justifying the cost of Range Rover Sport-level bills). 

So … here  we go again.

No parent wants to break a child’s heart (though my kids barrack for the Melbourne Demons, so there’s that), but I get where you’re coming from.

Look, I live on a farm, where the circle of life is on full display: the ewe prolapses and dies. The lamb gets pulled and bottle-fed by the kids. The fox breaks into the chook shed and kills the lot.

It’s hard – but it teaches them.

So I asked my eldest:

“If one of our cats got bitten by a snake, would we spend 30 grand to save it?”

He didn’t even blink:

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“And what if Granddad got bitten by a snake?”

“Well … how old is he?” he smirked.

“Stop it – you’re scaring me.”

Still, you asked: What if I hadn’t spent the money?

So let’s go there. What if you’d put that $30,000 into your mortgage? Or invested it in shares for your kids’ future? Or wiped out your credit card debt?

Well, you’d have something else: financial peace of mind. And that’s not nothing. 

I’m not saying you made the wrong choice. You saved your cat, your kids are happy, and your guilt is gone. But next time (and there’s always a next time when it comes to pets) have a plan before the tears and vet bills start flowing.

Because, while pets feel like family (and they often are!), your actual human family needs you to make clear-eyed choices, especially when it comes to money.

Scott

Why Warren Buffett inspired me to sell my shares

 “Warren Buffett announces plans to retire this year in shock to shareholders,” read the ABC headline.

Seriously?

The bloke is 95 years old! If I were his age, I’d be shocked if I could even get out of bed without sounding like a busted whipper snipper.

All jokes aside, this really is the end of an era: there will never be another Warren Buffett.

I’ve flown to Omaha, Nebraska, more times than I care to count for his legendary ‘Woodstock for Capitalists’ meetings. I’ve interviewed him. I’ve spent time with his kids.

And over the years he’s taught me three lessons that I still live by.

1. Investing My Money

I was in the crowd at Omaha in 2016, notebook in hand, when Buffett casually mentioned he’d instructed his estate to put his money into a simple Vanguard index fund when he dies.

Now, this is the greatest investor of all time. Since 1965, Berkshire Hathaway has grown in value by more than 5,500,000% (not a typo!). The index returned ‘just’ 39,000% in that time. Yet even he said it was smarter to bet on the index.

Why?

Because, as he got older, Buffett realised what most of us eventually do: that simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.

Rather than play the game, he set his family up with low-cost, no-fuss index funds.

That made me rethink everything. Over time I sold all my individual shares and moved to a set-and-forget portfolio. 

More time with the kids, and less stressing over share prices. Best move I ever made.

2. Spending My Money

The media love talking about how much Buffett is worth (around $US169 billion). 

But they always miss the real story:

He’s never sold a single share in his company Berkshire Hathaway, which doesn’t pay dividends.

In other words, he’s basically held a $180 billion lottery ticket in his pocket for decades … and never cashed it in. 

That’s what Buffett’s done. He lives in the same modest suburban house he bought in 1958. Still drives himself to work. In fact, his son once told me that, as a kid, he didn’t even know his dad was rich. 

Is that a bit weird?

Hell yes! 

But, in a world obsessed with more, one of the richest men in the world chose enough.

3. Working for My Money

When I interviewed Buffett, I asked him the secret to a happy life.

He didn’t even pause: “Find a job that makes you want to tap-dance to work every morning.” And he meant it. While the world calls him the greatest investor of all time, he told me that he’s always seen himself as a teacher.

So, as my great teacher gets set to leave the classroom, let me ask you:

Could you see yourself doing your job at 95?

And if not … what could you be doing that would make you tap-dance to work?

Tread Your Own Path!

Barefoot Bubbles

My son Odin absolutely loves Barefoot Kids – he’s followed every single step over the past year. He’s even started his own little business making and selling bubble kits! Would you be willing to check out his video and let us know what you think?

Thanks so much,

Proud Parent

Hello Proud Parent,

Because I am fiercely independent, I cannot endorse products. However, I showed my kids Odin’s video and now they are pestering me to buy one of his bubble kits! 

He’s a natural salesman, congrats!

Scott

Mouldy, Desperate Parents

Hi Scott,

We’ve spent the last seven years stuck in a financial and emotional loop, paralysed by fear of making the wrong decision for our family. Here’s our situation: we have five young kids, two of whom have special needs. The only school that caters to their needs is a two-hour drive in the morning and up to four hours in the afternoon – every single day. We’re barely managing with jobs, kids and constant driving. Meanwhile, our house is nearly paid off, but it has mould, making it a health hazard. It’s also worth only a third of homes near the school. 

We’ve inherited $900,000, but it’s tied up in property – meaning we can’t use it to ease day-to-day stress or invest elsewhere. If we sell and buy closer to the school, we risk losing all our financial security. If we stay, we continue to struggle. If we rent, we burn cash but get closer. If we knock down our house and rebuild, we risk sinking into debt. Every option feels like a mistake, so we’ve done nothing for seven years. Meanwhile, property prices keep rising. Scott, how can we break free from this paralysis and make the right move for our family’s future? We’re desperate!

Linda

Hey there Linda,

Ever heard of the boiling frog analogy?

Well, you and your husband have been simmering away in that pot for seven years! You’ve got five kids (two with special needs), a six-hour daily commute, and you’re returning to a mouldy home?

You must be ready to croak!

Here’s my take:

You’ve already set yourself up well: your house is nearly paid off, and you’ve got $900,000 to work with. So, why are you still stuck in this pot?

It’s time to jump.

Here’s what I’d do:

First, sell the house.

Second, rent near the school for now – even if it’s for the next 12 months. Think of it this way: you’re buying back 1,200 hours of your time each year. Six hours a day, all for your family and your mental health. That’s the most important investment you can make.

Should you buy in the new area? 

Maybe. But don’t stress about it right now. Renting buys you time to decide. You can always make the long-term decision when the time’s right.

Don’t get stuck obsessing over the price of rentals. Think of it this way: the price of your rent is worth every hour you’re getting back with your family. And that is the smartest investment you can make right now.

Finally, I want to tell you this: I have a huge amount of respect for you both. You’re holding it all together for your kids, and that’s no small feat. You’re tough. But remember, kids grow up fast, and the time to invest in them is right now. Don’t waste another minute.

Eat the frog!

Scott