Everything in this series of posts is true but that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily helpful.
I’ll say at the outset that I’m not a financial guru, spiritual adviser or sage of any kind. What follows is just the story of some choices that I made and what happened as a result.
Your results can (and probably will) vary.
It was only thirty short years ago that people still worked for themselves. That generation of people went to jobs every day, made money, and then spent that money on things they owned themselves. Financing was reserved for really big stuff like homes, cars, and businesses. Even when I was in elementary school, credit cards were a rare commodity and nobody defined their value as a human being by a single number.
The one-two punch of consumer debt and the modern FICO score came along to change all that, transforming a broad swathe of society into a class of serfs by addicting the masses to the drug of easy credit and then threatening them with shame and disgrace if they failed to maintain usurious payments at ever-climbing interest rates.
This change has spawned a brand new set of anxieties:
Who’s going to respect a guy with a 500 credit score?
Am I going to lose out on that dream job if the employer sees my financial history?
Will I never own a house if I start missing credit card payments?
These used to be my real life worries. After using easy credit to pay for a toxic combination of medical bills and salary cuts, I spent the next decade running on this high-interest treadmill, working myself to exhaustion with nothing to show for it but a steadily growing mountain of debt.
By the end, just paying the minimums took every penny I could find. I was forced to take money from family members and gracious gifts from near-strangers. I even stole money from my kids’ birthday cards to pay for gas and milk all while working 2 and 3 jobs at a time.
During this personal recession I read dozens of books and articles on getting out of debt written by some of the leading experts you’ll hear on the radio or see on bookstore shelves. Their advice was completely useless to me for two reasons:
1. I could not make cash fast enough. Not even when my kids were uninsured and I’d been wearing the same thrift store shoes for two years.
2. All of their advice plays by the rules the banks and corporations have crafted to keep consumers in perpetual debt.
That second point was a great source of motivation in what follows in this story. When the banks themselves made bad choices (and some might say committed outright fraud), the government was there with $700 billion in taxpayer-funded bailout money to make sure that the bank CEOs were in no danger of losing their yearly bonuses. It does make me wonder where the bailout for me and the other deeply indebted citizens might be.
After all, the average household in the United States is in about $15,000 of credit card debt — an amount that guarantees that every week there are thousands and thousands of hours being worked by people across the nation just to pay outrageous interest rates to those same bailed-out bankers. If that’s not the definition of serfdom then I don’t know what is.
Knowing all this, I decided to go a different route. I took my shame and fear of being a deadbeat and I put it in the garbage next to my credit card statements and collections notices. I’m not a financial professional and I can’t make official recommendations about how you should treat your debt. What this book contains are the strategies that are working for me — and ones that may not necessarily work for you.
If you go the route that I took it’s going to take some courage and a thick skin. You’ll be harassed and looked down on. You may have to change your phone number. You may have friends and family question your morals and your sanity. But at the end you may just have something that hasn’t been seen in almost thirty years. You might at last be free.