Financial Independence: Right Path for the Wrong Reason

I’m not sure exactly which rabbit trail of the web led me to the financial independence blogger Mr. Money Mustache, but that’s where The Rich Fool’s journey began.

I didn’t realize then that I was taking the first step down the path of radical generosity. Quite the opposite. After reading a few posts from the smart and sassy MMM, I was hooked. For several months, the idea of early retirement consumed me. I read everything in Mr. Money Mustache’s archives in a matter of weeks, and I soon discovered the equally enlightening Mad Fientist and Financial Samurai. Their sophisticated approaches to spending and saving changed the way I look at money.

It wasn’t just the idea of financial independence that intrigued me, although I was certainly motivated by the realization that my income put it within reach. I was equally inspired by Mr. Money Mustache’s anti-consumerist bent that makes the American Dream look downright insane. His rants on SUVs, consumer debt and lifestyle inflation resonated deeply because he articulated something I knew deep down to be true: Our endless pursuit of possessions is robbing us of experiencing the most important things in life.

At the time, I thought I was taking the first steps toward financial independence. I methodically cut $1,000+ a month from our family budget without skipping a beat, maxed out both working parent 401Ks (Update: I have since decided that was foolish), and set up automatic transfers to invest $3,000 a month through Ameritrade and Betterment. Using an FI spreadsheet from the Mad Fientist, I watched our net worth increase by more than $10,000 a month. Our time to financial independence dropped to less than seven years.

My financial house was finally in order.

It’s not that I was slacking on the frugality front. I maintain a detailed family budget, religiously track spending using Mint and splurge on relatively few things (like restaurants). We saved a quarter million dollars in retirement accounts by age 35, purchased a $400,000 second house in a non-contingent deal, and turned our first house into a rental property. We own one car in the Chicago suburbs.

But the quest for financial independence kicked me into a whole new gear. As I become more disciplined in my saving, I started having realistic dreams of retiring at age 45.

But then a small voice kept nagging at me with the question, “What are you saving for?”

Right Financial Path, Wrong Motivation

Just like my gut told me Mr. Money Mustache is right about the foolishness of the American Dream, the same instincts told me that financial independence shouldn’t be the goal of a more disciplined lifestyle. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going down the right path for the wrong reasons. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Then a friend and financial advisor from church recommended the book “God and Money,” which describes how two Harvard MBA students came to the conclusion that they should give away most of their excess wealth. Filled with practical advice on topics like personal spending limits and net worth finish lines, the book revolves around the new question, “How much should I keep?” rather than the old question,” How much should I give?”

I devoured “God and Money” with the same urgency I felt when I first stumbled on Mr. Money Mustache, reading and re-reading the book over the course of three days. Suddenly, two previously distinct trains of thought converged. What if I apply the concepts of financial independence, but with the goal of radical generosity instead of early retirement?

It was a light-bulb, lightning-bolt moment of purpose and clarity. Instead of evaluating every purchase through the lens of how many months or years it will add to my financial independence timeline, I should count the cost of my wasteful spending in the context of how much good that money could have otherwise done through giving. The answer to my dilemma was fiscal responsibility for the sake of radical generosity.

Financial Independence With A Divine Twist

It turns out this wasn’t an entirely new concept for me. About nine months before joining the cult of “mustachianism,” I read the book “Radical” by David Platt. With the subtitle, “Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream,” The New York Times bestseller challenges American Christians to consider how their view of money has been manipulated by the culture. It’s a call to radical generosity that juxtaposes Jesus’ words about how His followers should live – running toward need and away from comfort – with how most Christians live today in the West. It’s Mr. Money Mustache with a twist.

I was tracking with the book until the very end. That’s when Platt challenges readers to live on a predetermined modest “salary” for one year and give away the rest. Despite the name of the book, it was too radical for me, so I abandoned the idea out of fear. The leap was too big and too sudden – like asking a new runner to complete a marathon.

Then the atheist Mr. Money Mustache unknowingly provided me a training regimen for generous living as a follower of Jesus. By embracing his anti-consumerism philosophy and implementing his incredibly effective financial advice, I’m poised to accumulate considerable wealth. But instead of building a security blanket, I plan to use those resources to invest in eternal purposes.

Fiscal Responsibility vs. Radical Generosity

While MMM provided the spark for financial discipline, “God and Money” acted as a starting point for generous living. The authors tackle the topic of money from different worldviews, but together they helped me make sense of what it means to be a rich American living in the 21st Century.

That’s what The Rich Fool is about: navigating the complex intersection of fiscal responsibility and generosity. While it took me a year to put the pieces together, it’s now impossible to view wealth any other way. After some initial resistance, the concept doesn’t seem so radical after all.