‘Hogwarts without the magic’: Barefoot Investor’s son exposes gaping hole in budget

He’s only a kid but Barefoot Investor Scott Pape’s son had some choice words for Treasurer Jim Chalmers about the gaping holes in his budget.

My 11-year-old son was in his jim jams reading Harry Potter.

“Get out of bed – I want you to watch the Budget with me”, I urged.

“What’s the Budget?” he said with a yawn.

“Hurry up, it’s starting now on Channel 2.”

“What’s Channel 2?” he asked innocently.

Kids these days.

Now, even though he’s still in primary school, I figured he’d be a good proxy for what the average Aussie thinks. (Then again, this week his school had ‘Maths Day’ and to celebrate he took it upon himself to cut his chicken sanga in the shape of pi, so maybe not.)

Anyway, with a few clicks he managed to find ABC streaming.

“Parliament House is like Hogwarts … just without the magic”, I joked.

To his credit he dutifully watched the young wizard (Jim Chalmers) try and cast his spell over voters.

When it was finally over and all the politicians were celebrating and slapping each other on the back, I switched off the TV and asked him what he thought.

“Well, he didn’t talk much about climate change and sustainability. And there also wasn’t much about artificial intelligence or robotics. I mean, clearly that’s the future”, he said.

Yes it is.

AI and humanoid robots are going to reshape the world more than the iPhone did.

Climate change is going to punch a hole through the economy and the planet.

And my son is going to live through the upheaval.

This will be his reality.

Yet you wouldn’t know it listening to Jim on Tuesday night.

He did the same old Ctrl-C, Ctrl-V trick that every Treasurer has been doing for decades:

Tax more.

Spend even more.

Treasurer Jim Chalmers and inset Barefoot Investor Scott Pape.

Cross your fingers and hope China keeps buying rocks.

Jim told us he’s thinking about the future – but what he really means is the next four weeks (leading to the election), not the next forty years.

Still, I was curious to find out if my little maths man had picked up on the numbers that Jimbo spat out.

“Did you catch how much the government debt is, mate?”

“Was it a billion?” he guessed.

“Ah, no. It’s set to hit $1 trillion dollars next year”, I said.

Silence.

“How many zeros are there in a trillion Dad?”

I actually wasn’t sure, so I got out my iPhone and asked ChatGPT.

“There are 12. Another way of thinking about it is that it’s one million million dollars”, I said.

“And do they have a plan on how they’re going to pay that money back?” he asked.

“Actually, no. In fact, they’re planning on adding to the debt over the next 10 years”, I said.

“Wow”, he said, in a way only an 11-year-old could.

And with that my little Harry Potter went off to bed.

Now it was a school night and I didn’t want to give him nightmares, so I avoided telling him the truth:

It’s highly likely he’ll spend the rest of his life paying off this debt.

Tread Your Own Path!

Cup of Coffee Tax Cut?

Hi Scott,

I’m a mum of two toddlers and watched the Budget hoping for something meaningful.

The tax cuts are fine, but $5 a week won’t stretch far with the way groceries and rent are going.

The Treasurer says we’ve turned a corner economically – is that really the case, or just pre-election spin?

I’m trying to make good decisions for our family, but it’s hard to know what to believe. Would love your take.

Narelle

Hi Narelle,

There was nothing meaningful in the Budget.

The main takeaway?

Don’t look to the government for help – they’ve got enough problems of their own.

Yet, as you’re a mum of two toddlers, let’s talk about your occupational drug of choice:

Coffee.

I’m writing this in a café, newspapers spread out, reading headlines like:

“Labor’s ‘top-up’ tax cut is enough for a coffee – and a brazen pitch for votes.”

Bulldust!

I just paid $6 for a macchiato.

(Yes, my coffee order sounds very … Melbourne. But my doctor says I need to ease off the cappuccinos – something about my belly turning into a buddha.)

Six bucks for a watery espresso with a tablespoon of froth!

So, no, the tax cut’s not even covering your caffeine. And I doubt voters will give a frappuccino about it either – especially with the average price of a coffee tipped to hit $7 within six months.

Why?

Three reasons:

- Wholesale bean prices have doubled in the past year.

- Café rents and power bills are skyrocketing.

- And high staff costs. Sunday rates mean your man-bun barista is on $39/hour (and even then the poor bloke still can’t afford his rent!).

And that’s why it’s been a brutal year for your local café, Narelle.

Higher prices mean more people will bring it from home, grab a servo brew … or skip it altogether.

And that is why nearly one in 11 hospitality businesses have shut shop in the last 12 months.

So, Narelle, has the economy turned the corner?

Not if the price of coffee is anything to go by. It’s a frothy little sign that things are still running hot!

Slim Dusty and the Nine-Year-Old

Dear Scott,

My name is Imogen.

I’m nine years old and live in Melbourne.

I was camping with my country cousins at Christmas when my uncle made me a deal: he’d give me $50 if I could learn and recite one of his favourite Slim Dusty songs.

It’s a poem by Henry Lawson called ‘Peter Anderson & Co’.

I had to recite it by heart by 10 January 2025.

It was tricky at first, but I got there – and I won the $50! (I gave my little sister $10 because she helped me.)

My uncle said I should invest the rest.

Scott, do you have any ideas for what company I could own a share in?

I love animals!

Please could you write back with some ideas?

My mum reads your column – maybe you could put your suggestions in there? Also, I’ve read Barefoot Kids – it’s the best!

Imogen

Hey Imogen,

I’d never heard of the song, so I looked up the lyrics. They went for three pages (!), with lines like:

See if you can raise a drink, old man, I’m feelin’ mighty bad

Hot and sweetened, nip o’ butter, squeeze o’ lemon, Pete, he sighed.

That’s just weird!

Yet good on you for memorising it – you certainly earned your pineapple.

So here’s what I think you should do with your forty bucks.

First, given your love of animals, I think you should donate $10 to a local animal shelter or the RSPCA.

Even $10 can help buy two warm blankets for a puppy, cover food for a cat for nearly a week, or pay for a microchip that helps a lost pet find its way home.

Second, ask your parents (or your uncle) to help you google “kids’ investing apps”.

Plenty of them let you start with just a few bucks, so you can use your other $30 to invest in Aussie shares.

That’s right: you’ll own a slice of a real company – like Woolies, Coles and the banks.

Pretty grown-up stuff.

And you know what’s cool about that?

You’re memorising this stuff when you’re nine – most people don’t hear the tune until they’re 59.

You are going to be so wealthy. I can feel it.

Finally, your uncle sounds like a fun guy.

Why not challenge him back? If he can memorise Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake It Off’, tell him you’ll give him $1!

DISCLAIMER: Information and opinions provided in this column are general in nature and have been prepared for educational purposes only. Always seek personal financial advice tailored to your specific needs before making financial and investment decisions.