The Math Was Always Off

A story about credit, collapse, and what comes next.

Do you know why the economy feels broken?

Because so much of it was built on what we thought would happen—not what actually did.

For decades, we’ve been living inside a system fueled by forecasted value, not real value. We priced homes, products, stocks, even entire careers based on projections of what they might be worth someday. And when those projections didn’t come true? The system buckled.

This wasn’t a one-off event. It’s structural.

The entire economy runs on credit—on borrowed money, borrowed time, and borrowed optimism.

Wealthy individuals don’t just hold assets—they leverage them. They borrow against portfolios full of stocks, real estate, and future earnings. Companies raise capital not on actual performance, but on potential. Governments spend today banking on tomorrow’s tax revenue.

But what happens when tomorrow doesn’t pay up?

You get what we’re seeing now:

– Homes that no one can afford

– Cars sitting on lots, priced for incomes that don’t exist

– Office buildings that are empty

– Retail spaces that are hollowed out

– Prices that keep rising while paychecks stay flat

And the dollar itself? It’s not backed by gold. Or oil. Or land.

It’s backed by trust—by belief.

Fiat money only works if we all agree it has value. But the entire system is fiat now—currency, corporations, even careers. All based on a kind of collective optimism that’s becoming harder and harder to sustain.

That’s the danger of fiat systems: when value is no longer tied to anything tangible, it’s propped up by hope. But hope isn’t a stable currency.

And underneath all of this? The social contract is breaking, too.

There used to be a promise: 8 hours of work, 8 hours of rest, 8 hours of what you will.

A life with boundaries. A rhythm.

Now?

People work longer hours for less stability.

Rest feels like a luxury.

Personal time has been hijacked by side hustles, survival planning, and “extra” work that’s not extra anymore.

Let’s put some numbers to this:

In the 1970s, the average hourly wage was about $3.70.

A person earning that could afford a home priced around $17,000.

A single income—especially from a stable job—could support a household.

Fast forward to 2025:

The median home price is now over $418,000.

To afford that, a household needs to make about $117,000 a year.

That’s $56/hour.

That’s not just inflation. That’s erosion—of opportunity, of purchasing power, and of dignity.

And here’s where it gets personal:

We’re not just tired.

We’re tired because we’re paying for someone else’s decisions.

We are, in real time, funding the aftermath of bad projections, broken policies, and sold-out futures.

They mortgaged the future in our name—

And now they expect us to smile and thank them for the inheritance.

But the money isn’t there.

The jobs don’t pay enough.

One income isn’t enough.

Sometimes two incomes aren’t enough.

And the pressure to “figure it out” feels more like a setup than a solution.

They told us to go to college, get a job, buy a house, retire.

They called it a plan.

It was really just a blueprint for debt.

And when we finally say, “This doesn’t work,”

We’re called lazy. Entitled. Fragile.

But what do you call a system where effort doesn’t equal stability?

Where your degree is a liability?

Where owning a home feels like fantasy, and rest is rationed?

We’re not just living through a recession.

We’re living in the fallout of a future that failed to deliver.

But maybe—just maybe—that’s not the end of the story.

Because if we were sold a dream that never arrived,

Then we don’t owe it our loyalty.

We don’t have to keep running on a hamster wheel built by someone else.

We can stop. Reassess. Reimagine.

The good news?

People are waking up.

We’re realizing the future we were promised is gone—and maybe that’s a gift.

Now we get to build something else.

Something more grounded. More honest. More human.

The old world was built on borrowed promises.

Let the next one be built on something real.