Today’s post is a bit different from some of my recent ones, but its intent is similar. Today, I want to talk about financial literacy and the crisis that the next generation faces. This is not a doom-and-gloom post. Hopefully, it will offer some hope. What I am about to suggest is not a short-term strategy. Most get-rich-quick pitches are scams.
Like many, I’m plugged into social media, and it has been distressing to see how many people are suffering due to runaway inflation, a soft job market, and crippling debt. Apparently, we are getting new tariffs again, which will most certainly increase prices further. This impacts all of us, young and old.
There is a trend that I have noticed on social media among younger participants. It is a hopeless feeling, as if there are no reasonable paths for their futures. They were told to get any college degree, which gave them debt but no job. They feel that they will never be able to afford a home, get married, or have children. This has caused some to “doom spend” and use their charge cards for everything from exotic trips to daily Starbucks runs. It has caused them to buy cars with extraordinarily poor loan terms. It has caused them to eat out more than they can afford and then do DoorDash for the convenience of not having to travel to a drive-through. Their attitude is, “I’m going to spend money now; I could die tomorrow.” Such spending is promoted by advertisers who emphasize ridiculous statements such as, “You deserve it!” and by credit cards, Payday loans, Klarna, Afterpay, 30-day no-interest financing- and all of those tools that make it easy to have what you want, when you want it, even if you don’t have the cash. Credit makes you feel good now, but it enslaves you later.
I’m a retired guy, and at the moment, I’m reasonably set. I don’t worry if a car needs a repair or if the hot water tank springs a leak. It is a tremendous relief to not have constant money fears. Now, I know what you’re thinking, “You’re a doctor, of course you are set!” However, it was impossible for me to do many of the things that doctors do to build wealth. My life situation would not allow it. I did do some of those things, but I did other things, less glamorous things, on a daily basis that positively impacted me as much as any financial investment plan. Those things are rarely talked about on YouTube videos. However, they are critically important. My success in retirement started at a very early age and depended on decisions and habits I’d built since I was 18. At the time, I did not think that those things would financially impact me in my retirement, but they certainly did, and in a good way.
Before I get into those habits, let me first give you the advice that every financial adviser will tell you. Invest as much as you can from as early an age as you can, and you will reap the benefits in the future. Everyone knows that $10,000 invested at age 20 will have a much greater revenue-gaining effect than $10,000 invested at age 60. Both are good, but the compounding nature of the market makes early investment a no-brainer. Per the EveryDollar app, $10,000 invested at age 60 with an 11% return (the average stock market return) will grow to almost $30,000 at age 70. However, $10,000 invested at age 20 will yield over $1.3 million at age 70. I knew medical students from wealthy families who were investing in their 20’s, but most of us couldn’t. Why couldn’t I? I was broke.
However, I did have one secret weapon: the power of critical thinking. I have always been less bound by emotions when it comes to any financial decision. This has been my saving grace. Let me walk through some aspects of my life to illustrate this point.
When it came time for me to go to college, my father told me in no uncertain terms that my only option was to go to the local community college. My best friend, John, was going there, so the idea wasn’t repugnant. However, at the time, I did have some resentment about the lack of options. However, in retrospect, my dad was right. The community college was nearly free. I’m an excellent student and did very well there, and moved on. Let’s face it, English 101 is the same at a community college as it is at an Ivy League school.
I didn’t have anyone to guide me after I graduated with an Associate’s Degree, so when it came time to apply to a 4-year university, I only applied to one school. I chose a state university as it had very reasonable tuition. My dad agreed to fund me for two years there, which was a huge plus. Naturally, I made sure that I graduated with my bachelor’s in two years.
My dad used his Chicago political connections and got me a job as a school janitor during the summers, which started in my high school years. Here is the embarrassing part: I was assigned to the same high school I attended (my dad’s sense of humor?). My peers saw me cleaning toilets, chipping gum off the bottom of seats, and mopping floors. Alas. But heck, I was making money.
When I started working as a janitor, I was well below the required hiring age. When a union rep asked me my birthday, I panicked and gave him a date that placed me somewhere in my 30s; I was 16 at the time. He commented on how “young I look for my age,” and snickered. However, clout is clout, and there was no adverse consequence from my faux pas. I banked seasons of summer earnings, working during my high school years and through college; I was responsible for all my personal expenses the moment I started to work, from shampoo to socks. This made me very aware of the cost of things, a benefit for adult life. As an aside, I also learned how to mop a floor with the best of them!
I’m an academic type of guy, and I was clear that I wanted to go to graduate school with a goal to eventually become a university professor. When it came time to continue my education, I applied to more than one grad school, as I had learned a thing or two by then. I matriculated to the school that offered me two things: a 100% free ride with a stipend and a location close enough that I could live at home to save on housing costs. I had done so well academically that my parents were more than willing to let me live at home rent-free during my grad school days.
When I was an undergrad, I was able to use some of my janitorial savings to buy a new car. What was it? A Pinto, that is the car that exploded if it was rear-ended. It cost me $2,700 new. That was about as inexpensive as you could buy a new car in those days. Yes, it was a piece of junk, but it did allow me to commute to graduate school from my parents’ suburban home. I bought the Pinto for cash. A practice that I have repeated many times with future cars. Could I have bought a more expensive car if I had gotten a loan? Of course, but it wouldn’t have gotten me to school any faster. During grad school I married and moved out to my own place.
I finished my Master’s degree and was moving towards a PhD when I had an uncontrollable desire to quit graduate school and apply to medical school. Remember that I talked about critical thinking earlier in this post? Well, critical thinking told me to keep working toward a free PhD instead of applying and possibly not getting into medical school. It was a crazy battle in my head, but medical school won out. I left my graduate program with a Master’s degree, got a research job at the University of Chicago, and applied to med school. Amazingly, multiple schools accepted me. I wanted to go to Northwestern, but it was the most expensive school that I was accepted to, costing several thousand dollars more a year. I was in a quandary and asked my PI (the research project’s principal investigator), who simply said, “Go to Northwestern; it will work out.” This would be the first time I would have a tuition burden, but I took his advice because I felt I would have the earning potential to pay it back.
After med school, I did my residency also through Northwestern, but the pay was nothing to write home about. In fact, when I was named Chief Resident of Psychiatry, my salary was only boosted by $100 per month (before taxes). I was on my own, now separated and paying child support for my daughter. I was poor. My peers were living in nice apartments, driving expensive cars (one was driving a BMW), and going on exotic vacations. Most had other financial means. I was counting my pennies and living in a basement apartment. I did use a charge card, but I always paid off my balance at the end of the month. I drove an extremely basic car and furnished my apartment with cast-offs, including end tables that I found on trash day. I cooked my own meals and packed a lunch every day. I made my own coffee in the morning and then drank the free coffee (if you could call it coffee) that the hospital provided to staff on the medical floors. I had a budget of $20/week for food, and I stuck to it, often eating foods from the “shop generic” aisle. However, because I lived within my means, I was debt-free except for my student loans, which were deferred throughout my 4-year residency.
I actively networked with established doctors, so I had a job before I left my residency. It was very hard for me to cold call doctors and ask them for something, but I did it because it was necessary. This is another lesson: sometimes you need to do things even if they make you uncomfortable.
I took a job, got a slightly better apartment, and (crazy me) bought a brand new V8, 5-speed Mustang Convertible. That was the only time I took out a car loan, but I paid it off sooner than the 3 years allowed. I also started to aggressively pay off my medical school loans. By then, I was divorced (it took years) and was paying my ex-wife a large percentage of my salary in alimony. Naturally, I was poor with all of this cash outlay despite being a practicing doctor. However, my frugal habits once again helped me. I cooked at home, packed a lunch, kept my entertainment simple, and even managed to creatively date. I can honestly say that through all of these adventures, I never felt sorry for myself or even deprived. I had everything that I needed, and I was doing what I wanted to do. I knew that my plans were good ones, and eventually these times would ease.
I switched jobs, saved money, and bought a house that was bigger than what I needed for myself and my daughter. I felt it was a reasonable investment as it was in an up-and-coming suburb and would certainly appreciate in value. I did have a mortgage on the house, but once again I paid it off aggressively, years before its 15-year term. Here again, I practiced all of the things that I had learned through life. I cooked at home, packed a lunch, found less expensive entertainment, and vacationed in simpler ways, like camping. I felt extremely privileged. It would have been easy to use credit for the finer things, but what would that give me? I lived in a nice house in a nice neighborhood. I drove a safe car. I did fun things. Going into debt would be a stress, not a plus.
I remarried, and my wife was happy to move into my existing house, where we still live over 30 years later and where we raised 4 kids (my daughter from my first marriage came to live with us, and we had three kids of our own). When my wife was pregnant with her second child, our accountant asked her, “How important is it for you to work?” She was only working part-time, and the income that she brought home would almost be completely absorbed by the cost of having two babies in childcare. We mutually decided that she would take a hiatus from work, and that hiatus lasted 12 years. When she finally returned to work part-time, we funneled all of her earnings into college funds, and we did that for several years. It was my sole responsibility to support myself, my wife, and four children. What to do? I had a successful private practice, but I always had a second job working for the underserved, as I felt it was important to provide services for the less fortunate. These secondary jobs never paid as well as my private practice, which presented a problem, but it was worth it as I felt that I was doing the right thing. Despite all of this, we were able to not only get by but to live well. The community that I chose years before had excellent schools and activities for the kids. The house was paid off, and it was increasing in value year after year. We had everything that we needed and more.
All of my doctor friends have larger homes than I do; many went on fancier trips, drove luxury cars, and had expensive clothes. I had a perfectly nice house, drove a regular car, went on camping adventures with my family, ate at home, and I continued to pack a lunch. I had no debt. I felt secure.
What about investments? I did have a financial advisor, and he was sometimes frustrated with me, as during parts of my life I couldn’t contribute, or I could only contribute less than what he wanted me to contribute to my investments. However, over time I was able to meet his wishes. I was in my 40’s before I could invest in a meaningful way, and being debt-free allowed me to do so with vigor in my 50s.
And there, dear reader, I have given you my secret to a secure retirement. I can summarize it in a couple of sentences. I always lived somewhat below my means; I kept debt to a minimum and got rid of it as fast as I could. I did without. I lived by my own standard: “Comparison is the thief of joy”. I invested in appreciating assets and, with the exception of the Mustang, carefully purchased depreciating assets. I never allowed myself to get into high-interest debt, such as credit card debt. I critically looked at every major thing that I did in life, making an effort to maximize value and minimize cost. In my case, I felt it was best to invest in myself rather than the market. When I established myself, I did invest. Would I have been a richer man if my wife continued to work, if we had fewer kids, if I somehow invested more earlier on? Most certainly, but I’m fine with my current level of security. Could I have extended myself and gotten a bigger house, a fancier car, gone on more luxurious vacations? Sure. Do I feel deprived in any way? Absolutely not. I am extremely happy and grateful for my life. Happiness and stuff are not mutually inclusive. Did I do everything to build wealth at all costs? No. I did do some things that were the opposite of that. I bought the Mustang; it was a foolish car, but it was a lot of fun. I worked in service jobs that paid less than my private practice. However, not only did I feel the need to do that, but it also gave me great satisfaction. Securing your retirement future is not about doing everything right; it is about doing many things right and fewer things wrong. Debt via easy credit is a millstone around your neck, and the sooner you start debt, the more the stone weighs. I’m no financial guru; I’m just a guy who followed common sense rules.
If you feel that you need to go into debt now to have stuff, I am asking you to do anything possible to avoid that. Companies that extend credit do it to transfer your money into their pocket. Spend money with intention, invest as much as you reasonably can, as soon as you can. Find the balance that works for you. I felt that my education was an appreciating asset for me. I felt that my wife staying home with the kids for 12 years was an appreciating asset in my children. I felt that having a nice house in a good neighborhood with no debt was more important than having a giant house with a big mortgage in a gated community. I felt that spending time with my family as we discovered the world in our camper was every bit as good as flying off on an expensive holiday. What good would it be to be fabulously wealthy if my kids just saw me as an ATM? At the same time, what good would it be if I pinched every penny to the point where we lived miserable lives? If you can use your money to meet basic needs, you can find a multitude of economical ways to enrich your lives. My willingness to eat generic bologna sandwiches in medical school gave me the freedom to upgrade my apartment to somewhat better accommodations, and that conservative apartment allowed me to buy a house, and so forth. Now, when my wife wants to go on a nice trip or out to dinner, I say, “Sure.” She also spent conservatively during the early years. Yet, I guarantee that my kids never felt deprived, and they all have great memories of the car trips and camping trips that we took. I cooked many meals with them, and my kids became competent cooks. I fixed things with them, and all are willing to tackle a simple repair project. All of them have traveled abroad now that they are adults, but at the same time, they are also sensible with their spending.
Despite what advertisements and influencers say, you can’t have it all. Why would you want that anyway? However, you can have some. Stop doom spending. Find purpose in your life; it is there. You may have to dig for it, but it is there. Celebrate every day. Write a gratitude list and read it daily. Stop believing the BS that you see on social media and don’t buy a crappy, useless get-rich-quick course that some yahoo wants to sell you. Building security is a slow process; that’s OK. Even during my poorest times, I found ways to be happy and to have fun. I wish you the same.
Peace
Mike

Me from a couple year ago on a camping adventure out west. I traveled in my homemade adventure van. A fabulous trip with fabulous memories!














































































































