Hello and welcome back to Mortgage Advisor on FIRE.
Weekly Update
We had an interesting bike ride this week. We had made it to a point roughly halfway between Meadowhall shopping centre and Rotherham, a distance of maybe 10km from where we live. It’s a route we know well and we usually get to Rotherham, ride around a few bits there and then head back. This time our plans were forced to change. My right pedal just snapped off, leaving a small stump. I tried to make a repair but the screws themselves had sheared off.
So, we were a few hours walk from the nearest repair place and my bike was not in the best condition. We weren’t exactly in the middle of civilisation either, being on a path running alongside a river. The only option we had was for me to try riding the bike back to the bike repair business we use back near Kelham Island; 10km back the way we came.
Surprisingly, we managed it. It was not massively comfortable on my right foot, but we took it steady and I tried to coast as much as possible. Our guy at the Russell’s Bike Shed replaced the pedals in just a few minutes with some that are much better and stronger.
Once the repair was complete we decided to ride out to Oughtibridge which takes us through Hillsborough and past the stadium, on to Beeley Woods and then into Oughtibridge itself. Well, my pedals were not done abusing me. As we went through some rough ground in the woods my back wheel slid on a loose branch and as the bike threatened to topple over I put my left foot down to stop the fall. A fraction of a second later the pedal raked down my left calf and yeah, some obscenities may have been shouted into the forest.
We had an embarrassing moment on a ride the following day. Oana and I tend have a real good laugh when we are riding together. We have almost twenty years of in-jokes and stupidity, and we will never grow up.
We were riding along a route where we could just about ride along side each other, and we were misquoting some of our favourite films and shows and laughing harder with each one, and then we got to arguing about the exact meaning of “next Sunday”, as in, if you say “next Sunday” to someone and you are having this conversation on Friday, are you talking about the day after tomorrow or the following Sunday?
This silly debate went on for a good few minutes with us shouting insults at each other in a joking, but impressively inventive way.
At no point during this several minute long back and forth did the rider who was directly behind us ding a bell or make us aware he wanted to pass. When the path widened and he did pass, we got a rather interesting side-eye glance from him.
So yeah, that happened.
The Search for Work
Since leaving Lloyds I’m now searching for my third job. I’ve had a few offers but I’ve not accepted anything yet. The mortgage broker world is a strange one because most of the opportunities are for self-employed. I don’t have an issue with that in particular, but there are some recurring themes that I’m finding frustrating.
I actually enjoy helping people with finding a mortgage. It can be extremely satisfying helping someone secure their first home, or helping them with debt consolidation. It’s not just a simple financial transaction; sometimes you can legitimately change someone’s life. It might be a young couple trapped in an expensive rental desperate to own their own place, or it could be someone looking to escape an abusive relationship. Mortgages aren’t just about making money; it’s all about helping someone with their home, and I take that responsibility seriously.
What I don’t enjoy is the business side of it. I don’t enjoy searching for clients, or networking, or any of that stuff. I like being given appointments and then doing what I can to help those clients.
I’ve been clear in all my communications with recruiters and brokerages about this. I don’t have an existing client bank, and I don’t want to spend lots of time building one. I want to come into a business, be given appointments, and then crack on. It makes me money, and it makes the business money via the commission split. It also helps the client get what they wanted.
The recruiters I’ve been dealing with are great, and they understand what I’m after. The problem is when I’m told that an opportunity comes with leads provided, and then I meet the brokerage and it all falls apart. I’ve had discussions where I’ve been told leads are provided so long as you spend approximately £1k to buy them in batches. I’ve also been told that leads are provided but the conversion rate is maybe 1 out of 20. Most frustratingly is when I’ve been told leads are provided, and when I turn up for the interview, the interviewer basically admits they said that to get people through the door but you are expected to provide your own leads.
For all the frustrating conversations I’ve had, there are some that have been positive and that I’m hoping to progress. I’m still hopeful of having something sorted by the end of the month, but we’ll have to wait and see.
World Cup
I’m not going to spend ages on this, as I think other people have said what I think; we snatched defeat from the jaws of victory by making some bizarre tactical decisions. We went too defensive, too early. We took off quality players to replace them with decent enough international defenders, only to then remove other starters for the second string attackers when we were chasing the game.
I said after the game that I couldn’t think of a more high profile example of a manager’s tactical clusterfuck leading to such a drastic reversal of fortunes.
In the end, Argentina scored the goals and had plenty of other chances to score. We can’t argue with the result. I don’t think Argentina did their image any favours with their gamesmanship or their banner after the match.
As for Tuchel, I’d let him go. He did well to get us to the semi-final, but he was brought in to surpass what Southgate did; not match it. I think Tuchel bottled it, and you have to ask the question whether national pride was the missing factor. Would an English manager have made different decisions? Maybe. Would pride have resulted in a different outcome? Possibly. I just think in international football, the manager, coaching staff, and players should all be of the country they are representing.
One More Year? Why the State Pension Changes Reinforce the Case for Financial Independence
There was a story this week that a friend sent over to me, and I suspect it caught the attention of many people who are thinking about retirement.
The Government is expected to bring forward the increase in the State Pension age to 68, meaning that millions of people could end up waiting an extra year before they become eligible to receive their State Pension. Although nothing has been formally legislated yet, it appears to be the direction of travel, and if it does happen, it will affect people who had planned their retirement around the current timetable.
As is often the case, social media immediately divided itself into opposing camps. Some blamed Labour. Others pointed out that previous governments had proposed similar changes. Before long, the debate became less about pensions and more about politics.
Personally, I think that’s missing the bigger picture.
The uncomfortable truth is that whoever happens to be in government is facing exactly the same problem. People are living longer than ever before. Medical advances mean many of us will spend decades in retirement rather than a handful of years. At the same time, birth rates have fallen, meaning there are proportionally fewer working-age people paying into the system to support an ever-growing retired population.
Whether you agree with increasing the State Pension age or not, the maths is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
I also don’t think anyone should be surprised by this. We’ve already seen the State Pension age increase from 65 to 66, and it’s currently in the process of rising to 67. If we’re being completely honest with ourselves, would anyone really be shocked if it eventually became 69? Or even 70? I certainly wouldn’t.
For followers of the Financial Independence movement, though, I think this story contains a far more important lesson than simply “the pension age is going up.”
One of the biggest advantages of pursuing Financial Independence is that it allows you to stop relying on politicians to decide when you can retire.
That’s something I don’t think gets talked about enough.
When many people first discover FIRE, they’re understandably drawn to the idea of retiring at 45 or 50. The headlines always focus on that part. But for me, early retirement has never been the main attraction. The real attraction is having choices.
If I want to continue working because I enjoy it, brilliant. If I decide I’d rather work part-time, that’s an option too. If I wake up one morning and decide I’ve simply had enough of the nine-to-five, I’d like that decision to be mine rather than one imposed on me by whatever pension legislation happens to be in force at the time.
Stories like this are a reminder that retirement rules aren’t fixed. They change. Governments change. Tax rules change. Pension access ages change. None of these things are guaranteed to stay exactly as they are today.
That means every good FIRE plan should include a degree of flexibility.
For most UK FIRE followers, retirement doesn’t involve simply finishing work one day and immediately claiming every pension available. Instead, retirement is usually made up of several different phases.
Perhaps you retire at fifty. Your ISA and other accessible investments then support you until you can access your workplace or private pension.
That pension then carries you through until the State Pension begins. That period between your pension becoming available and the State Pension kicking in is often referred to as the “bridge.”
If the State Pension age increases by another year, then that bridge also becomes another year longer. At first glance, it doesn’t sound particularly dramatic. It’s only one year after all.
But one year of retirement isn’t free. If your household spends £30,000 per year, then you’ll need to fund another £30,000 before the State Pension begins. In reality, it could be even more than that because your investments lose an additional year of compounding, and your withdrawal plan has to stretch a little further.
For someone who is carefully working towards a FIRE number, that could easily mean needing tens of thousands of pounds more before feeling comfortable enough to retire.
The irony, of course, is that a one-year increase in the State Pension age could ultimately lead some people to delay retirement by considerably longer than a year while they build that extra bridge.
Does that mean FIRE is suddenly a bad idea? Quite the opposite.
If anything, I think this news strengthens the argument for becoming financially independent.
The more your retirement depends upon government policy, the more vulnerable you are every time those policies change.
If your entire retirement plan relies on receiving the State Pension at exactly 67, then every review announced by Westminster becomes a source of stress. On the other hand, if you’ve built sufficient investments to support yourself, these announcements become little more than an inconvenience. You might need to make a few adjustments to your spreadsheet, but your entire future isn’t thrown into doubt because someone in Whitehall has changed a date.
That’s one of the reasons I’ve always viewed the State Pension as a bonus rather than the foundation of my retirement. Don’t get me wrong, I’m certainly not going to turn it down when the time comes. I’ve paid National Insurance for years, and I’ll happily accept whatever I’m entitled to. But I also don’t want my financial future to be entirely dependent upon it.
If it arrives at 67, great. If it’s 68, so be it. If it eventually becomes 69 or even 70, I’ll probably sigh, write another blog post about it, and carry on with life because, hopefully, my retirement won’t be resting on that single date.
And I think that’s the biggest takeaway from this week’s news.
Financial Independence has never been about escaping work as early as possible. It’s about reducing the number of things outside your control that can dictate your future.
You can’t control inflation, or tax policy, or pension legislation.
What you can control is how much you save, how consistently you invest, how much flexibility you build into your plans, and how dependent you choose to be on decisions made by other people.
If the State Pension age really does rise sooner than expected, then yes, some FIRE followers may need to revisit their calculations and plan for an extra year of bridging their income. But that’s exactly what good financial planning is supposed to do.
Financial Independence isn’t about predicting the future perfectly. It’s about building a life that’s resilient enough to cope when the future refuses to stick to the plan.
Competence, or a lack thereof…
I have two ongoing health issues at the moment. The first is worsening of my hearing. It’s something that runs in my family, and my hearing is getting worse all the time. I was referred to the audiology team at my local hospital last year, and I thought I’d chase the referral up as it’s been roughly eight months since I saw the GP.
The audiology team told me the waiting list was a minimum of eleven months. Now, I’m not one to try and unfairly jump the queue, but this is impacting my quality of life and making job interviews more difficult. The audiology team said they could speed up the process if my GP contacts them. Fair enough.
I logged into the app the surgery uses and sent a request detailing all the above. I didn’t need an appointment; just something sending from the GP to the audiology department. The practice responded by asking me to book in to see a GP with the next available appointment a month away.
So, I send another message repeating all the above and asking why I need to see the GP when they were the ones who referred me. I explained that surely the appointment could go to someone who needs it, and all I need is a quick message sending from the GP to the hospital booking team. The practice ignored all my questions and just invited me to book an appointment with the next available one being over a month away.
As a result, I’ve just given up and taken the appointment. All that will happen is I’ll attend and both myself and the GP will wonder what the fuck I’m doing there. It’s a perfect example of a meeting that could have been an email.
The second issue is my right elbow which has been in pain since the summer of 2022. I have seen many surgeons, doctors, physios, and the like. No one has been able to diagnose or treat the problem. I was sent to see another consultant in April. I was told I would be referred to a different consultant, because this consultant did not know what she could do for me.
Last week I called the consultant’s secretary to check on that referral. She said she would type up my clinic letter and that would have all the information in it. When the letter came through it had factual errors, and absolutely no mention of any follow ups or referrals on. It essentially said, “Yes, he is in pain. I don’t know why, and I’m not doing anything further.”
Navigating the NHS should not be this difficult or stressful. I wouldn’t class myself as particularly vulnerable, but there are plenty of people who are, and when they are faced with this sort of bureaucratic bullshit they are unable to find a way through and just end up forgotten.
Bureaucracy: Death by a Thousand Forms
This week I’ve also had a front-row seat to an extremely frustrating issue Oana is dealing with.
Now, before anyone jumps in with “well customs have to check parcels”, yes… of course they do. Nobody is arguing that countries shouldn’t inspect goods coming into the country or collect taxes where they’re due. Rules exist for a reason.
The problem isn’t that there was a process. The problem is how that process was handled.
Oana sent a birthday present to a close friend in Romania. Nothing expensive, nothing commercial, just a collection of thoughtful little gifts: bookmarks, a greeting card, a keyring, a tote bag, some costume jewellery, stickers and a few other bits and pieces. We paid extra for Royal Mail’s International Tracked service because the whole point was to know where it was and, hopefully, have it arrive before the birthday.
The parcel reached Romania on 1st July. And then, nothing.
The tracking might as well have not existed. For an entire week there was no indication that customs needed anything. No email. No phone call. No update on the tracking. No message saying, “We’re waiting for documents.”
Eventually Oana chased the Romanian Post herself, only to be told that documentation was required. Which immediately raises the obvious question: if you knew you needed documents on 1st July, why did nobody tell anyone until a week later?
Determined not to spoil the surprise, Oana asked whether she could deal with all the customs formalities herself. She explained that this wasn’t a commercial shipment, it was simply a birthday gift, and that the recipient was already under a great deal of personal stress. Romanian Post confirmed that this would be fine.
So she spent hours gathering everything they requested: descriptions, values, explanations, identity documents and endless emails backwards and forwards.
Then came one of those moments that perfectly sums up bureaucracy. They asked for her phone number and email address. The same phone number already printed on the customs declaration. The same email address they’d been using to correspond with her throughout the entire process.
Still, she sent them again. Then, despite agreeing that Oana could handle everything herself, customs suddenly contacted the recipient directly by SMS and instructed her to complete declarations instead.
Surprise ruined.
The customs declaration listed the contents, so before she’d even opened the parcel she already knew what some of her birthday presents were, and because bureaucracy rarely settles for one form when three will do, she then found herself registering online, applying for an EORI number, submitting identity documents and completing more declarations, all while dealing with difficult family circumstances.
Even after all that, more requests kept appearing. Another declaration. Confirmation she’d pay any duties. Confirmation she’d pay delivery fees. No indication what those fees might actually be. Just another box to tick. At every stage it felt like the finish line kept moving.
What really struck me wasn’t that documents were required. It’s perfectly reasonable that customs might need information. It’s that nobody seemed capable of asking for everything at once. Instead, every few days another hurdle appeared. Another email. Another request. Another department. Another explanation. Another delay.
If someone wanted to design a system that maximised stress while minimising efficiency, I’m not entirely convinced it would look much different. As anyone following the FIRE movement knows, we often talk about money being a finite resource. Time is even more finite.
Between researching procedures, writing complaint emails, sitting on hold, chasing updates, filling in forms and explaining the same situation over and over again, countless hours simply disappeared.
Hours that could have been spent with friends. Hours that could have been spent relaxing. Hours that could have been spent doing literally anything more productive than proving, for the third time, that yes, the email address they’ve just emailed is, in fact, your email address.
As I write this, we still don’t have any resolution, and it’s looking increasingly likely that Oana and her friend are just going to give up. It’s a shame for this friend as she’s a lovely woman who could have used a nice surprise.
What I’m Doing
Listening: The Dead and The Gone by Susan Beth Pfeffer.
Watching: Radio (Netflix).
Reading: Caliban’s War (Expanse Book 2) by James S. A. Corey
In late 2001, just after 9/11, I went on a school exchange to a high school in Anderson, South Carolina. It was a fantastic experience as I stayed with a family who had kids attending T. L. Hanna. I remember those times fondly.
Anyway, the other day we sat down for dinner and Oana had a film ready for us to watch called Radio. I knew absolutely nothing about this film. It started with a caption stating it was taking place in Anderson, South Carolina. That itself was a nice coincidence as the city only has a population of roughly 28,000. A couple of minutes later I start to recognise the names on the school uniforms; T. L. Hanna.
We paused the movie to look it up and it’s based on a true story of the friendship between a high school sporting director played by Ed Harris, and Cuba Gooding Jr’s character who goes by the nickname “Radio”.
In all honesty, it’s not a great film. It’s not terrible; it’s just ok. Were it not for the little link between myself and the school it was set in I would not have stuck with it.
Notable alumni of Hanna high school including Chadwick Boseman, and James Michael Tyler; the actor who played Gunther in the sitcom Friends.
Financial Update
Assets
Premium Bonds: £250.00.
Stocks and Shares ISA: £149,262.76.
Fuck It Fund: £0.00.
Pensions: £125,595.17.
Residential Property Value: £245,790.00.
Total Assets: £520,897.93.
Debts
Residential Mortgage: £173,633.19.
Total Debts: £173,633.19.
Total Wealth: £347,264.74.
Top Ten Countdown – The Best Financial Advice
10. Know Where Your Money Actually Goes (Part 345)
9. Avoid Lifestyle Inflation (Part 346)
8. Don’t Try to Look Rich (Part 347)
6. Invest Early and Let Time Do the Heavy Lifting (Part 349)
5. Avoid High-Interest Debt (Part 350)
4. Build an Emergency Fund
Life has a habit of ignoring your financial plans. You can have the perfect budget, a healthy investment portfolio, and every spreadsheet colour-coded to perfection, but life doesn’t care.
Your boiler breaks. Your car fails its MOT. Or, your bike pedal snaps.
It could be that your cat decides that swallowing something it shouldn’t sounded like a fantastic idea. It might be that your washing machine develops a mysterious new feature where it floods the kitchen instead of cleaning your clothes.
Or perhaps the biggest one of all…
You lose your job.
None of these things are particularly unusual. In fact, they’re almost inevitable if you wait long enough. The problem is that many people treat these events as surprises rather than certainties.
It’s not a question of if life throws you a financial curveball. It’s when, and that’s where an emergency fund comes in. Think of it as financial shock absorbers. A pothole in the road is still unpleasant, but with decent suspension you drive over it and carry on. Without suspension, the same pothole can wreck the entire journey.
Money works in much the same way. A £700 boiler repair is annoying. Without an emergency fund, it can become a crisis. Suddenly you’re reaching for the credit card, taking out finance, borrowing from family, or wondering which bill can wait until next month.
One unexpected expense begins a chain reaction. An emergency fund breaks that cycle.
Instead of asking, “How am I going to pay for this?”, you simply transfer the money, solve the problem, and start rebuilding the fund afterwards.
The emergency still happened. It just didn’t become a financial disaster. One of the biggest misconceptions about emergency funds is that they’re somehow wasting money.
People will often say, “Wouldn’t that cash earn more if it were invested?”
Probably.
But that’s missing the point entirely. An emergency fund isn’t there to maximise returns.
It’s there to minimise risk.
Insurance isn’t a great investment either, but you probably wouldn’t cancel your home insurance because your index fund has historically produced better returns.
They serve different purposes. Your investments are there to grow your wealth. Your emergency fund is there to protect it. That protection also extends beyond your bank balance. It buys you options.
Imagine your employer becomes unbearable. The atmosphere turns toxic. Every Sunday evening fills you with dread.
If you’re living from one payday to the next, you may have little choice but to stay.
But if you have six months’ worth of essential expenses sitting safely in the bank? The balance of power changes. You can afford to hand in your notice. You can take time to find the right role instead of the first available one. You negotiate from a position of confidence rather than desperation.
To me, that’s one of the most underrated benefits of an emergency fund. It doesn’t just protect your finances. It protects your choices. And if you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you’ll know that’s really what financial independence is all about.
Freedom; to say no, to walk away, to make decisions because they’re right for you and not because your bank balance leaves you with no alternative.
How much should your emergency fund be? There’s no universal answer. Some people are comfortable with three months’ essential spending. Others prefer six.
If your income is unpredictable or you’re self-employed, you might sleep better with a year or more set aside. The exact number matters less than having something, because even a modest emergency fund is infinitely more useful than no emergency fund at all.
Ironically, the best emergency fund is the one you hope never to use. It’s a bit like carrying an umbrella. If it doesn’t rain, you don’t complain that the umbrella was unnecessary. You simply appreciate that it was there if you’d needed it.
An emergency fund works exactly the same way. You build it, quietly hope it gathers dust, and sleep a little better knowing that when life inevitably decides to throw another surprise your way, you’ll be ready.
And trust me when I say, life always has another surprise waiting.
DISCLAIMER
The views and opinions in this blog are my own, and do not represent the views or opinions of my former, current, or future employers, nor should they be considered advice.
If you want personalised financial advice, seek an appropriate professional. If you are in financial difficulty, seek advice via the resources below:
Biolink
You can now find all my social media pages by checking out my Biolink:
bio.link/davidscothern.