There Has to Be a Door

Well, @systematicls wrote two pieces that have been stuck in my head. The first, “The Prison of Financial Mediocrity,” diagnosed a generation’s turn toward casinos and memecoins as a rational response to a system that no longer rewards playing by the rules. Twenty million impressions and counting. It deserved them.

The second, “Embrace The Warm Colors Of Life,” offered his prescription: Build a foundation, then take your shots. He escaped poverty through extreme determination, learned programming by moonlight in a jungle, landed at a hedge fund, and now stands in front of the Sistine Chapel with the love of his life. “Long agency,” he concludes.

I agree with the diagnosis. I admire the story. But I think the prescription misses something important.

His framework offers two paths: Contentment (accept what you have) or ambition (build a foundation so you can swing for the fences). Stay gray or chase escape velocity. Be at peace with the prison cell or position yourself to buy call options on a different life.

But there’s a problem with the contentment option that needs to be said out loud.

Contentment requires having enough to be content with.

For someone behind on their bills, stressed about how to afford childcare, choosing between medication and groceries, “just be content” isn’t wisdom. These aren’t people reaching for more. They’re trying to keep their heads above water. They did what they were told they were supposed to do and the math still doesn’t work.

You can’t choose contentment when you’re drowning.

So that leaves the other path: Build a foundation and take shots. But what about the people who don’t want to take shots?

How many of the 250 million adults in America just want to work hard at a job, support their family, and retire someday without constant financial anxiety? What about the people whose ambition isn’t escape velocity but stability? For them it’s not about being content with less. It’s not about moonshots. They just want the simple life they were promised if they did things right.

This life used to be available to the vast majority of hard-working people. Not everyone…but to most. It’s what the social contract was supposed to deliver.

We Agree on the Diagnosis

Let me start with something I’ve been writing about for over a year: P(win) = 0.

It’s shorthand for what happens when people conclude that following society’s “good advice” about money no longer leads to anywhere good. Work hard, budget carefully, save diligently, invest wisely...and still end up unable to afford a house, retirement, or the basic markers of middle-class life. When someone believes their probability of winning equals zero through traditional means, any move becomes rational. Why save for retirement if you’ll never be able to afford to retire? Why follow conventional wisdom if the conventional path leads nowhere?

This isn’t pessimism. It’s arithmetic.

Home prices are up 48% since 2019 while incomes grew 22%. Healthcare costs are bankrupting families who did everything right. Crushing amounts of student debt have manufactured graduates with credentials that don’t improve their job prospects or earnings power. The lifetime cost of the American Dream now exceeds $5 million, which is a sentence I still can’t believe I just typed.

The social contract that said “follow the rules and you’ll be okay” has been quietly rewritten. Nobody announced the change. The financial advice industry still talks as if it’s 1995. And millions of people are following a playbook for a game that no longer exists.

So when the original piece describes a generation rationally choosing high-variance bets, I don’t dismiss them as reckless. I understand the math they’re calculating.

Where Both Pieces Leave Me

The first piece says: The game is rigged, so bet on the gamblers. “Long degeneracy.”

The second piece says: The game is rigged, so build a foundation and then take your shots. “Long agency.”

Both frames assume the same thing: That getting ahead now requires asymmetric bets. The only question is whether you’re gambling from weakness or gambling from strength.

But here’s what bothers me.

“Long degeneracy” is just accepting the prison cell while buying stock in the prison.

And “build a foundation so you can take shots” still assumes the shots are what matter. The foundation is just the launch pad. The destination is still escape velocity.

What if the foundation isn’t the launch pad? What if the foundation IS the point?

The Life That Disappeared

There used to be a version of the American Dream that didn’t require moonshots.

Go to school. Get a job. Work hard. Buy a house. Raise a family. Retire at 65 with dignity. Not wealthy. Not escaping to see the wonders of the world. Just...okay. Stable. Able to support a family. Not anxious all the time.

This was never glamorous. Nobody wrote articles about it. But it was the promise: If you do the right things, you’ll be able to live a decent life.

That promise is what’s broken.

The answer to a broken social contract can’t be “everyone needs to become a speculator.” What would happen if all 250 million adults in the US decided to take shots? Who’s teaching the kids? Who’s nursing the sick? Who’s keeping the lights on? We can’t all be positioning ourselves for asymmetric bets. The math doesn’t work. The society this describes doesn’t work.

And the most important concept to internalize is that most people aren’t looking for escape velocity. They want to work a job they don’t hate, spend time with people they enjoy being around, and not worry about whether they’ll be able to afford to get sick or grow old.

That’s not a lack of ambition. That’s a completely reasonable thing to want from life.

I Had Degrees of Freedom You Don’t

I need to say something that might cost me credibility with some readers. But I think honesty matters more than credibility.

When I came out of school and got thrown into the workforce, it was a completely different time. Within two years, I was saving one out of every two paychecks. I was driving a new car. I bought my first house. All within two years of starting my career.

I had degrees of freedom that people don’t have today.

If I made a financial mistake back then, it wasn’t going to crush me. There was room to stumble, learn, recover, and try again. The margin for error was wide enough that you could figure things out as you went. You could be a little dumb in your twenties and still end up fine.

Today? The margin has collapsed. One wrong move can set you back a decade. There just isn’t as much wiggle room as there used to be.

I didn’t need to take shots. I didn’t need escape velocity. The foundation was enough because the foundation created an enjoyable life worth living.

The Case for Getting the Foundation Right

Let me be clear about what I’m not saying.

I’m not saying “just make better choices” as if that solves structural problems. It doesn’t. I’m not saying agency is the answer to a broken system. It’s not. I’m not saying people struggling are doing something wrong. Many of them are doing everything right in a game that’s been rigged against them.

Here’s what I am saying:

The foundation decisions are what matter. Not as a launch pad for moonshots. As the thing itself.

Career. Location. Housing. Education. Relationships. How you think about retirement. These aren’t just the stable base from which you take your real swings. For most people, these ARE the swings. Get them right and you don’t need escape velocity. Get them wrong and no number of shots will save you.

When the margin for error is razor thin, the cost of unexamined decisions becomes catastrophic. Not “suboptimal.” Catastrophic. The kind of mistakes you could spend the rest of your life working your way out from under.

Living an intentional life is tough when you’re still figuring things out. I know that. But if you can bring real thought to the handful of major decisions that shape your trajectory, that intentionality can protect you from the errors that compound into inescapable situations.

This isn’t about taking shots. It’s about not needing to.

What I’m Not Offering

I don’t have a ten-step system that fixes everything. I’m not going to pretend that framework thinking solves healthcare costs or housing prices or wage stagnation. Anyone selling you that is lying.

Some problems are so large they require government and industry solutions. A startup isn’t going to “app” its way out of society’s structural cost inflation. I’m not that naive and neither are you.

But I’ve spent the last several years studying this problem and am currently building something designed to help. It’s not a get-rich-quick scheme. It’s not a gambling strategy with better marketing. It’s not a launch pad for asymmetric bets. It’s a different way of thinking about the decisions that actually determine whether you can build a stable life in an expensive and complex world.

I’m not ready to share all of it yet. But I refuse to accept that the only options are “gamble from weakness,” “gamble from strength,” or “accept less.” Those can’t be the only doors.

The Real Question

The viral posts assume that the game requires shots. That the only variable is whether you’re positioned to take them intelligently.

I’m asking a different question: What if we could rebuild a version of the game where the foundation is enough?

It will never be enough for everyone. Some people genuinely want escape velocity. They feel it in their bones, as the author describes. They should chase it.

But there has to be a path for the millions of people who just want to work hard and live a decent life without becoming speculators. It won’t be easy because many pieces of the system are very broken. But there has to be a solution because a society where everyone has to take shots to survive isn’t a society. It’s a giant casino.

My view is that there are ways to make the foundation hold again. How? Through better decision-making, through new frameworks for navigating an expensive world, and through a re-imagining and creation of new life products that make sense given today’s reality. And eventually, through the slow, hard work of society rebuilding systems that actually deliver on the original promise.

What I’m describing is harder than buying lottery tickets. It’s less dramatic than chasing escape velocity. It requires thinking about things that are uncomfortable to think about.

But it’s the work worth doing.

The Prison is Real. So is the Door.

The rules have changed. The costs are real. The challenges are significant. The system has genuinely failed a lot of people, and acknowledging that isn’t doomerism. It’s honesty.

But “the game is rigged” and “therefore I must become a speculator” aren’t the same statement. The first is an observation about the system. The second is a conclusion about how to live.

Both viral pieces make that leap. I don’t.

P(win) = 0 if you follow the traditional path. I believe this is true for many people today. But I also believe there are ways to change the equation. Not by taking shots, but by making the foundation decisions well enough that the foundation can support a happy life.

This isn’t contentment or escape velocity. It’s something in-between that used to have a name.

We called it the American Dream.

I’m building something in this space. If you’re interested in the problem, working on solutions, or just want to talk about what it would take to make the foundation enough again, reach out to me at 37Maru. I don’t have all the answers. But I’m not willing to stop looking for them.