The alternative to retirement

The problem with life is that it’s unsatisfactorily vague in terms of duration. You could die in utero (not the Nirvana album) or you could hang on by your grimy fingernails, clawing at the linoleum until the ripe old age of a hundred and eleventy. That’s quite a range. Sure, we could bell curve it…. but really statistics are for other people, we’re all planning on being the exception.

(Annoyingly) none of us know how long we’ve got left… exactly. It would make planning this whole ‘life experience’ thing such a more manageable process. I would like to posit a solution. Instead of retiring at sixty five, I think we should instead all just… kill ourselves.

comicwannaseesomething1.pngI know, this idea may seem a little fringe, at first, but allow me a brief moment to convince you of its merit.

Sixty five is a pretty good innings. And things from that point onwards are just hankering to go downhill anyway…. By this stage you’ve racked up a metric fuck tonne of carcinogens, all of whom are getting rowdy in your soft tissue and are just itching for the opportunity to go all Fukushima. You’ve got dementia waiting in the wings. It was supposed to be waiting for you in the passage… but you know. And that grinding noise in your knee…. that’s the anatomical equivalent of waking up at 3am because you thought you heard breaking glass. (unlikely to be a good thing)

How would your life change if you knew that on your sixty fifth birthday you had to take a self inflicted dirt nap? Chances are you wouldn’t be wasting your life in some job that you hate. You sure as hell wouldn’t be saving for retirement…

As soon as we put a deadline (pun only loosely intended) into play we suddenly become A LOT more motivated to get busy living. We appreciate that we don’t have much time left and get busy doing all those things we’ve always wanted to do. (theoretically)

Let’s take things a bit further though. By killing yourself at sixty five you’re actually being incredibly altruistic. Some might even argue this is the ultimate form of altruism. (and lets be honest, likely to be the only truly charitable thing you will ever do for humanity) After all, old people are pretty insufferable. Driving slowly, and wobbling unsteadily from left to right through the supermarket aisle. Always telling you about how things were better, back in the day.

Think about it! We could single handedly end Bingo nights, lawn bowls and retirement villages. Health insurance would become affordable and universal. Its those old fucks with their blackened lungs and cirrhotic livers that are the ones making it expensive for the rest of us.

If you’ve only got until sixty five are you really going to work up until your last day? Hell no. Youth unemployment solved, thank you very much. Also the world is going to become a lot more egalitarian. With that sixty fifth birthday as your cut off date, you’re going to make damn sure you spend every last penny. No more inter-generational wealth. Plus with all those old people kicking off we can finally churn some of those properties closer to work. I think we can all appreciate less time spent commuting. (assuming anyone will actually want to bother with a mortgage anymore)

Obviously all those people hovering around or nearing D-Day will be somewhat reticent to get on the cart… so to speak. I think we need to engage with our elderly and convince them that this is, in fact, the right thing to do.

Sure we’ll miss your musty smell and your long winded stories. But (always) look on the bright side (of death), you died with your boots on. As opposed to alone in some sterile palliative care facility. That’s gotta count for something right? And think of all the good your cold dead corpse will do.

Seriously. Move along. You’re holding back the species.

Perpetuating an imperfect system

My heading for this blog post was going to be, ‘Saving for retirement’, but considering how I feel about the topic, that seems disingenuous at best. Also a reader may mistakenly surmise that this is a post about personal finance (It mostly isn’t).

I should probably mention that I have nothing against the word ‘for’. As a preposition it is totally functional and relatively useful. ‘Saving’ is also fine, as a stand-alone concept. I think everyone should try it at least once. But ‘retirement’ is an awful, malignant word. Grouped together these words form (more or less) the basis for everything that is wrong with the world…. ok, I will grant you some notable exceptions. Like… warm beer and short people. Debating however, why such things should be allowed to exist is to question the divine. (which is another blog post)

Saving for retirement on the surface seems like a very reasonably exercise. But maybe it’s just an elaborate form of masochism. Emphasis on the word ‘Saving’. I have far less issue with building a flexible income generating asset base that can last into perpetuity (through something like entrepreneurship).

Having a lot of money when you choose to retire is obviously really nice. And having more cash when you retire is obviously better than having less cash. But have you really ever considered what retirement actually entails? Besides sitting around and counting down the hours before your inevitable foamy, (gurgling) demise in some palliative care facility.

Why do you want to retire anyway? Doesn’t this mean you’ve bought the programme? They sold you the kool-aid. And you drank deep. You’re on step eight of your ten-step life! Next stop… smelling like an old person and death. Some people like to imagine step nine is travel and boat cruises… but its not. It’s a weird musty smell… and having suspicious looking growths zapped off your wrinkled, sun damaged skin by a dermatologist and pencilling funerals into your diary every weekend as your friends and family kick off. Sounds awesome, I can’t wait. Basically I have to save and invest for my whole entire life in anticipation of this event? Seems like a great way to spend the time allocated to me.

How many happy retirees do you know personally that are getting after it? You know… living the dream. Count them on your fingers. I’ll wait… I’m willing to wager less than a handful and that’s only if you move in impressive circles. Would you swap your life currently for their life? They have money after all.

Let’s segue into something else and ramble on about science for a bit, because science is awesome. And finance is just okay. When it comes to retirement we are using outdated models and concepts that were struck in the fifties. Expected life span. You see we all have just one lap. Lets say its four hundred meters… only half way through the race someone in a white lab-coat has changed it to 800 meters.

My expected death is age 78. Statistically speaking. I’ve just turned 39. Which feels ancient. Some days I wonder how people who are 49 get out of bed in the morning without painkillers.

Only my life expectancy is probably not 78. It’s probably closer to 100. Mind you for the proletariat its still 78. In fact probably less. I’ll probably be in a position to afford the miracles of science that are coming. The nano-machines. The new organs (with modifications). The rejuvenation clinics. The implants that tell me three days in advance that I’m going to have a heart attack (just enough time to pop down to the clinic and have flawless robotic surgery and a flat white). My two year old daughter will likely live to be 120… maybe longer. And for her children death maybe something that only happens to poor or unlucky people. Death is unlikely to be egalitarian forever.

Imagine at age 60 you’re going to have live another… 40 years off your retirement funds. That’s a really long time to be running down your assets. Sure, you might have a metric-fuck-tonne of money, or be an adherent of Mustachianism (the 4% rule) or even on the flipside just conjuring up a dystopian future where we trade cigarettes and blowjobs for dirty brown water and blighted potatoes, so really, what’s the point?

Round about now you might imagine this rant is against investing and pro-Epicurism. Let’s work forever and blow our money on whiskey, cigars and the experience economy. Let’s consume to the point where we need a self-storage unit to contain our ever burgeoning collection of stuff.

Its not.

My issue is more about how we look at our lives. We get these social norms and this corporate nonsense pumped down our throats as soon as we’re born. This is your life!

  1. Get born. 2. Go to school. 3. Get a degree (get into debt). 4. Get a job. 5. Work nine am to five pm 6. Buy a house (you can’t afford) 7. Buy a car (you don’t need) 8. Breed. 9. Retire. 10. Die.

Instead of retirement shouldn’t we be punting a concept of designing our lives better? At the moment the way we use our money doesn’t make any sense. We kill ourselves to hoard our money away for a period in our lives where we can’t really make full use of it anymore. Or we blow it all and use whatever we earn to finance our debt. Perhaps I am decrying the lack of some middle ground alternative.

Is this just some terrible burden we’ve all taken on where we actively try (and very often succeed) to defer our lives. Money (and by association our investments) should be the scaffolding we use to build our lives around, not some weird end game strategy.

I used to believe in the whole retirement fairy tale. I mean it’s worked for my old man. (hasn’t it?) He sits around, reading, pottering around in his workshop, annoying his offspring, bickering with my mother and watching hours of network news. Slowly he is trickling down his funds to zero or close to that…  a fuse burning down towards the great white light and the acrid burning smell of litigation (when his children will murder each other for the scraps of his estate)

We imagine free-form days as the ultimate reward after a long hard trek through life. But in reality nothing is more frightening (and potentially dull). When did being old and rich somehow morph into something to aspire to?

Young and rich would obviously be better. And middle aged and rich would be the compromise position between the two extremes. In reality none of those outcomes are very likely, although we are constantly told that outliers in this field can be studied and emulated (just buy our book). In our post-industrial revolution lives we are more like cogs in a very big machine, all grinding on in the same direction on some predetermined path unable to alter our destiny.

This is not a blog post about solutions. Besides, who am I to make any form of judgement call about anyone else’s life and how they plan on spending it? For the most part I’m just wondering out loud about my own unique circumstances and a system that I’ve decided is stupid. Or maybe this is just long form justification for a (mostly theoretical) lifestyle decision that I a trying embrace.

In any event I do think it’s something worth thinking about. Broadly this post is about future proofing yourself. (you know for when the robots come). And not being complacent in our assumption that the status quo will simply continue ad infinitum.

What is your reducency plan?