There’s a tremendous amount of advice given on the internet. It may be the most common commodity in digital form, truth by told. Self-proclaimed experts pop up around every corner with dubious credentials, sure-fire suggestions, and breathless testimonials from satisfied customers whose lives they have forever changed.
These sages of wisdom, well-intentioned as I’m sure they are, often gleam their philosophies and guidelines from personal experience and technical expertise. They were once in poverty and now they’re rich, so they can show you how to be rich, too. They’re certified by a reputable (or not so reputable) institution of higher learning, so they’re qualified to solve your problem.
That’s great. But here’s the wrinkle with giving advice: not everybody’s in the same boat as the advisor. Not everybody has even remotely the same resources, experiences, or perspective to understand or access even the most enlightened advice communicated in the most simple terms.
For that reason, I try to moderate the advice I give on this blog and in The Old Money Book. Everyone may not be able to take the actions I detail in the How Old Money Does It section of the book. They may not have the money or time to refurbish a piece of old furniture or buy new clothes in the manner I suggest.
The Core Values I present may be more accessible, as this section involves simply becoming aware of what you hold dear, what you prioritize, and what you adopt as habits. Everyone has values, and everyone can choose to change theirs, if only in small measures, over time, if so desired.
So I endeavor to avoid dogmatic rhetoric in the book and on this blog. Yes, I’m passionate about financial independence and education, but I don’t think there’s just one way to acquire them. I’ve detailed philosophies, techniques, and strategies that have worked for me and my family over time. They’ve also worked for generations of other people, all over the world, with predictable results.
Still, don’t take my advice: consider it. Weigh it in your personal life, which I can not possibly know anything about. Apply it on a case-by-case basis as you see fit, or ignore it all.
For in the words of the great French philosopher Michel de Montaigne, “The only thing I know for certain is that I know nothing. And I’m not even sure about that.”