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It’s Not All Parents… But It’s Always a Parent
One of the nicest things happening across South Yorkshire at the moment is the Pride of Yorkshire art trail. Beautifully decorated lions, lionesses and cubs have appeared across Sheffield, Rotherham, Barnsley and Doncaster, each one designed and painted by talented artists. They’re fun, they’re eye-catching, they get people exploring the region, and when the trail finishes they’ll be auctioned to raise money for charity.
It’s a genuinely lovely idea.
Which is why it’s so infuriating to see the same thing every single time we go out.
Every sculpture has signs asking people not to climb or sit on them. It’s hardly an unreasonable request. They’re works of art, not playground equipment. Yet, without fail, you’ll see parents lifting their crotch goblins onto them for photographs, or standing there watching while older children scramble all over them.
Before anyone reaches for the comments section, yes, of course it isn’t all parents. But somehow, it’s always a parent. If this point is confusing, remember that all salmon are fish but not all fish are salmon.
The sign couldn’t really be any clearer. “Please don’t climb on the sculptures.”
So naturally, what do people do?
“Come on, Kayghleigh (or something else equally bizarre), smile for Mummy while you stand on the lion.”
It’s a fascinating glimpse into a mentality that seems increasingly common: the rules are important but only for everyone else.
People love to complain that society is becoming less respectful, that children have no manners, that nobody follows the rules anymore. Yet children don’t magically develop those attitudes on their own. They watch. They copy. If Mum or Dad treats every polite request as optional, why would the child think differently?
When a child sees an adult ignore a simple instruction because they wanted a better photo, the lesson isn’t just about a sculpture. The lesson is that inconvenience outweighs consideration. That “No” really means “unless you fancy it.” And that’s how entitlement gets passed down.
The frustrating part is that the request exists for a reason. Hundreds of hours have gone into designing, painting and protecting these sculptures. Artists have poured their creativity into them. Volunteers have organised the trail. Sponsors have funded it. At the end of it all, these pieces will be auctioned to raise money for charity.
Every scratch, every scuff and every weakened joint potentially reduces the value of something that exists to do good.
All because somebody decided that their family photo was more important than respecting a very simple request.
This isn’t about being anti-fun. Nobody’s saying children can’t enjoy the trail. Go and find them all. Take photos. Hunt for your favourites. Make a day of it.
Just don’t climb on them.
It’s astonishing that in 2026 that even needs saying.
Seven Years Without Gambling
On 24 July 2026, I quietly passed a milestone that means more to me than almost any investment return, savings target or net worth update I’ve ever written about.
Seven years without gambling. I’ve mentioned before that I had a problem with gambling, and I feel for everyone else out there struggling with this addiction. Gambling is still one of those things that people rarely feel able to discuss honestly.
People laugh about big wins, or speculative accumulators coming in, but how many people talk about losing £20, then £30, and then £100 whilst trying to win it all back?
Looking back now, I can honestly say that stopping gambling wasn’t just one of the best financial decisions I’ve ever made. It was one of the best life decisions.
It’s Not About Willpower
People often talk about gambling as though it’s simply a matter of self-control.
“If you know when to stop…”
“If you’re sensible…”
“If you only gamble what you can afford to lose…”
The problem is that gambling isn’t designed to be consumed sensibly.
The industry doesn’t make money from people placing one £5 bet on the Grand National each year. It makes money from people staying, and coming back again, and again.
Every part of the modern gambling industry has been refined over decades to maximise engagement. Bright colours. Near misses. Free bets. Loyalty schemes. Personalised offers. Constant notifications. Games that take seconds to complete before encouraging you to do it all again.
These aren’t accidental design choices. They’re features, not bugs.
The longer you remain engaged, the more opportunities there are for mathematics to take over.
The gambling industry often claims it wants people to gamble responsibly, yet the data tells a different story. Government analysis of operator data suggests around 60% of gambling revenue comes from the highest-spending 5% of accounts, while some online gambling studies have found that the top 5% of loss-making accounts generated an astonishing 86% of Gross Gambling Yield.
In other words, a disproportionate amount of the industry’s income comes from a tiny minority of customers; the very people most likely to be experiencing gambling-related harm.
The House Doesn’t Need to Win Every Time
One of the biggest misconceptions about gambling is that casinos or bookmakers somehow need everyone to lose all the time.
They don’t. In fact, occasional wins are essential as it keeps the gambler on the hook. If they get the occasional win, they believe they can win again. Winning keeps hope alive. The entire business model relies on the belief that the next win could be just around the corner. There’s a reason why the National Lottery had success with the phrase, “it could be you”.
Beneath the excitement sits something far less glamorous: mathematics. Every casino game, every fruit machine, every roulette wheel and every slot is built around one unavoidable fact: The expected return is negative.
That doesn’t mean you can’t win. It means that if you repeat the game enough times, the average outcome becomes increasingly predictable.
The casino doesn’t sweat the occasional win from a customer, because over the long term it is impossible for them to lose because the games are designed that way.
Roulette is perhaps the simplest example of how casinos make money. At first glance, betting on red or black looks like a straightforward 50/50 proposition. Except it isn’t. On a European roulette wheel there are 37 pockets: 18 red, 18 black, and one green zero. That single green pocket changes everything. When the ball lands on zero, every even-money bet loses, giving the casino a built-in mathematical edge of around 2.7%.
That might not sound like much, and over a few spins you could easily walk away a winner. But casinos don’t rely on what happens over five or ten spins. They rely on what happens over thousands, or millions, of them. Every spin applies that same tiny advantage, and over time the results drift ever closer to the mathematical expectation. The longer you play, the less luck matters and the more the odds take over.
That’s the uncomfortable truth about gambling. The games aren’t designed to be fair. They’re designed to be profitable. The occasional winner isn’t a flaw in the system, it’s an essential part of it. If nobody ever won, nobody would play. The winners are the advertisements; the mathematics is where the casino makes its money.
Investing Isn’t Gambling
One of the things that has always frustrated me is hearing people describe investing as gambling. They’re almost opposites, at least where true investing is concerned. I’m not talking about crypto, NFTs, or other such bullshit.
When you gamble, you’re entering a game where the odds have deliberately been tilted against you.
When you invest in a globally diversified portfolio of productive companies, you’re buying tiny pieces of businesses that create goods, employ people, innovate and, over long periods, have historically grown alongside the economy.
Investing carries risk. Not investing also carries risk.
Investing does not guarantee riches or wealth.
Markets fall. Companies fail. Returns fluctuate.
However, unlike gambling, investing doesn’t require someone else to lose for you to win, and it isn’t built around a negative expected value before you’ve even started.
The casino becomes wealthier because people play. The investor becomes wealthier because businesses create value. Those are fundamentally different ideas.
FIRE Changed How I Thought About Money
One of the biggest shifts for me wasn’t simply stopping gambling. It was changing what money represented. Money stopped being excitement. It stopped being entertainment.
It stopped being something that might magically solve my problems overnight.
Instead, it became something much more valuable. It became a tool, or more specifically a key that would unlock the door to security, freedom, choice, and time.
Every pound that isn’t lost to gambling becomes another pound working towards financial independence. Another pound invested. Another pound reducing financial anxiety. Another pound buying future options instead of fleeting excitement.
When you begin thinking like that, gambling starts to look increasingly strange. Why would I willingly hand money to an industry whose entire business model depends on me losing it?
You Can’t Beat an Industry Built on Psychology
The gambling industry doesn’t rely solely on probability. It also relies on psychology.
It understands that humans remember wins far more vividly than losses. That we chase losses because we don’t like admitting defeat. That near misses feel strangely motivating. That boredom makes us vulnerable. That stress makes impulsive decisions more likely.
Modern gambling companies employ behavioural scientists, data analysts, marketers and software designers whose entire job is to keep people engaged for as long as possible.
When people say, “Just gamble responsibly,” I sometimes wonder whether we’d ever say something similar about any other industry intentionally engineered to maximise compulsive behaviour.
Personal responsibility matters. Of course it does. But so does recognising when an industry has invested billions into making self-control harder. If someone wraps you in metal chains and throws you into the river, it’s pretty messed up if they claim you’re only drowning because of a lack of character or willpower.
The House Knows You Better Than You Think
One thing that’s changed dramatically over the last decade is that gambling companies no longer simply offer games. They collect data.
Every click. Every deposit. Every game you prefer. How long you play. Whether you tend to increase your stake after a loss. Whether you gamble more on a Friday night than a Tuesday afternoon. Whether you’re more likely to respond to a “free bet” or a cashback offer.
In almost any other industry, we’d call this customer analytics.
In gambling, it can become something far more powerful. The aim isn’t simply to understand customers. It’s to understand how to keep them playing.
Many operators now use sophisticated algorithms to identify patterns of behaviour, tailoring offers and promotions to individual customers. Someone who enjoys football betting may receive free bet offers before a big match. Someone who plays online slots might receive bonus spins. If you’ve been inactive for a while, don’t be surprised if an email lands in your inbox with a tempting incentive to come back.
Some customers are even invited into so-called “VIP” programmes, where dedicated account managers offer bonuses, gifts or exclusive hospitality to encourage continued spending. In recent years, regulators have taken action against a number of operators for failures in these schemes, particularly where they involved customers experiencing gambling-related harm.
Now, to be fair, most people who place the occasional bet on the Grand National, have a flutter during the World Cup, or enjoy a night at the casino on holiday won’t develop a gambling addiction. Millions of people gamble recreationally without it becoming a serious problem.
But that’s also why it’s important to recognise the distinction between can and is designed to.
The fact that many people can enjoy gambling without significant harm doesn’t change the commercial incentives of the industry. Gambling companies are publicly traded businesses with shareholders expecting profits. Those profits come from customers gambling, and from customers continuing to gamble.
That’s not a criticism of capitalism; it’s simply an acknowledgement of how the business works. When an industry’s revenue depends on repeated participation, it’s hardly surprising that enormous resources are devoted to encouraging exactly that.
For me, that realisation changed everything. I stopped seeing gambling as a harmless game where I might occasionally get lucky. I started seeing it as a product that had been carefully engineered to keep me consuming it. Once you see it that way, it’s remarkably difficult to unsee.
I understand that there are people out there that enjoy the occasional bet. These people, in my personal experience, will often claim that they shouldn’t be blocked from gambling because some people become addicted. I think these people often fail to connect the dots though. The gambling industry makes most of its money from a small number of people who are in an addiction crisis. These people hand their money to the betting sites, and the recreational gambler might win occasionally, but that money is, in large part, coming from people who are addicted, struggling, and more likely to commit suicide than addicts of other behaviours or substances.
What I’m Doing
Listening: The Dead and The Gone by Susan Beth Pfeffer.
Watching: All The Light We Cannot See (Netflix).
Reading: Caliban’s War (Expanse Book 2) by James S. A. Corey
Financial Update
Assets
Premium Bonds: £250.00.
Stocks and Shares ISA: £150,345.05.
Fuck It Fund: £0.00.
Pensions: £126,338.26.
Residential Property Value: £245,790.00.
Total Assets: £522,723.31.
Debts
Residential Mortgage: £173,633.19.
Total Debts: £173,633.19.
Total Wealth
Total Wealth: £349,090.12.
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 (Part 351)
3. Spend Intentionally
For the longest time, personal finance was presented as a battle between two extremes.
On one side were the spenders and on the other were the savers.
A false dichotomy of reckless spending or abstaining from all pleasures no matter how small until retirement.
I don’t think that’s what good personal finance looks like. Both extremes miss the point. The goal isn’t to stop spending, but rather to spend mindfully.
One of my biggest challenges with money was when I stopped thinking about how to simply spend less and, instead, started thinking about how to spend on what I actually value.
These are two very different questions to consider. Holidays are a good example. Some people love travelling and choose to collect experiences and memories over possessions. Exploring new places genuinely enriches their lives. If this sounds like you, then spending money on travel may be one of the best decisions you make.
For someone else, spending thousands of pounds on two weeks abroad every year might feel like a complete waste because they’d rather be cycling through the Peak District, building LEGO, buying books, or simply enjoying quiet weekends at home.
Neither person is wrong. They’re just spending intentionally. The problem isn’t spending money but spending it by default because they feel it’s what they should be doing.
This is a common theme in this blog, where I discuss how many people do things purely because they feel they should rather than because it’s what they actually want.
How many subscriptions do you still pay for simply because you’ve always had them?
How many purchases have you made because they were on sale rather than because you actually wanted them?
How often have you bought something simply because everyone else seemed to have one?
Do you upgrade your phone and car every year just because it’s what everyone else seems to do?
Modern life is remarkably good at encouraging unconscious spending. We’re constantly being nudged to upgrade.
If it’s not your phone, it’s your car. If it’s not your kitchen, it’s your bathroom.
Do you really need a toothbrush that connects to Wi-Fi? Do you need a washing machine that you can control from your phone?
At some point it’s worth asking whether we’re improving our lives or simply accumulating more expensive ways of doing exactly the same things.
One exercise I occasionally recommend is brutally simple. Imagine someone handed you every item you’ve bought over the past year and asked a single question.
“Would you buy all of this again?”
I suspect most of us would quietly start putting quite a few things back on the shelf.
That’s because so much spending happens in the moment. A few clicks. “Buy it now”. “Express checkout.”
A little burst of dopamine and shortly after a parcel arrives.
Then six months later we’re wondering why the spare bedroom has become an Amazon distribution centre where boxes double as a fort for the cat.
Intentional spending isn’t about guilt. It’s about alignment. Does your spending reflect the life you say you want?
If financial independence is your dream, does your bank statement suggest you’re moving towards it?
If family is your priority, are you spending money creating memories together or simply buying more stuff?
If your biggest hobby is photography, cycling, gaming, gardening or music, perhaps that’s exactly where your discretionary spending should go, because money is there to improve your life.
Money is not there to win some imaginary competition to die with the largest ISA.
One of the great ironies of personal finance is that people often become so focused on optimising every penny that they forget to enjoy any of them. Saving everything is no healthier than spending everything.
The sweet spot lies somewhere in the middle. Spend generously on the things that genuinely make your life better. Be ruthlessly frugal about the things that don’t.
Once you start doing that, something interesting happens. You often find you can spend more on the things you love because you’ve stopped wasting money on the things you never really cared about in the first place.
That’s what intentional spending is. Not spending less, but spending with purpose. Money is not the end goal. Money is a tool. Like any tool, its value depends on what you choose to build with it.
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.