Me? Money Means freedom. What does it mean to you?
I learned early in life that money means choice. At ten years old I tagged along with my older brother (I’m one of four) on his Saturday job delivering leaflets. In my native South Africa back then the effort was worth a cool 10 Rand … roughly five pence.
Still, it was my five pence. I could do whatever I wanted with it. Being ten I obviously spent some on sweets, but the rest I invested in a massive bag of cheesy Wotsits (or the SA equivalent). Those I portioned up into little bags to sell at the school tuck shop … and I always sold out.
Ten-year-old me instinctively knew how to make money go further.
At 13 I began waitressing and soon I could buy the things I wanted. I later sold essays and homework on the side and I loved the independence of being self-sufficient. I still do.
By 19 my feet were itchy. Older restaurant colleagues spoke of their adventures abroad and I simply had to have a piece. I booked a solo trip to the UK and felt pure exhilaration as I boarded my first ever flight. People thought I was crazy, but I was young with a wild imagination. I was ready to meet opportunity.
Day two in the UK and I went job hunting. Every shop and business on Potters Bar High Street got a copy of my CV. A florist asked if I had experience and I told her no but you can teach me. I wasn’t feeling any fear.
I must have handed a CV in to Nationwide because a month later I got a call from the branch manager inviting me to apply for a job.
I did, I got, and my career in finance began.
Dull, boring and temporary
Working in finance. I expected dull and boring. I didn’t think it’d last long …
But I’m still here because working with money is working with people and people are wonderful. People are fascinating.
Maybe it’s years of waitressing but I’m good with people and I was good at my job. I worked my way up pretty quickly – from banking adviser to mortgage adviser – and even scooped some awards as I set my sights on becoming a qualified financial adviser.
When the financial crash of 2008 hit, a massive penny dropped for me. Money is a source of emotion, fear, opportunity, freedom. Money means a lot of (different) things to a lot of (different) people. So to write someone a relevant money plan, you first need to know them: their life, motivations, goals and plans way beyond just pounds and pence …
You need to listen. I mean really listen.
I began really listening and that soon meant parting ways with Nationwide. I’d been with them eight years, three as a financial adviser, but it was becoming more and more clear that I couldn’t help clients as much as I wanted to. I had to go independent.
Out on my own the learning curve was massive, but I loved the challenge. It was validating to win clients based on me. On Helena. On my approach … which was evolving all the time.
Because in parallel with my new venture, I began studying again. I sat a load of exams to get chartered as quickly as I could and, on the advice of a mentor, I enrolled in a Master’s Degree which truly opened my eyes.
It ultimately sewed the seeds of Money Means.
Shut out by design
Money might not be the biggest thing in someone’s life but its influence sure touches almost everything that matters. It’s not a massive stretch to suggest that most people would benefit from some professional financial advice so why don’t more people seek it?
Ironically – money.
I began advising in 2011/12 just as big changes on commission culture came in. I was always puzzled by fee structures in advising – why two individuals were charged differently based on the money they brought to the table – so I decided to base my Masters dissertation on the role that fees play in influencing adviser recommendations.
In traditional advice businesses, providing regulated advice takes time so fees are typically high; often based on the customer’s level of investment. More affordable advice solutions usually follow a generic tickbox approach that invariably leads to a product.
The dynamics point at a status quo that’s problematic. Customers that bring a decent chunk of investment to the table are charged high rates because of it. Customers that bring more modest sums to invest can be quickly pushed towards products that don’t necessarily suit in a process that lacks choice and transparency.
The ultimate kicker is that the high barrier-to-entry for personal advice shuts people out, denying millions access to financial know-how. Meanwhile those who do manage to squeeze in may simply be fed products from a list – not products that fit their goals and aspirations.
It should be the same service for the same fee, shouldn’t it?
Money Means …
I submitted my dissertation in 2018 convinced the future of the industry was set fees and service-based, not sliding scales and off-the-shelf. In 2020 I put my money where my mouth was and broke away from my existing firm to launch Smith & Wardle, a financial advice firm built on standardised fees, and listening to clients. Really listening.
When I see my clients take small but significant steps to build financial health it’s so satisfying. The results can be quick, too. It often doesn’t take long before I observe a profound difference in clients’ confidence and enthusiasm. That money thing? They’re taking control. They’ve finally cracked it.
Our set-fee structure lowers the bar on the numbers who can crack it and it became obvious that doing this at scale could make a huge dent in what’s called the ‘Advice Gap’, the industry term for those who are shut out of financial advice.
Enter Money Means. The future of advice has to be fair fees and an individualised approach. It has to built for people, not pound signs or products, if we’re to deliver better financial futures in the UK.
Money Means is a big step on that journey. We can help anyone to build a better financial life. To balance living for today with peace-of-mind for tomorrow.