At its core, saving money is about shifting labor from today into the future. When we save, our goal is to consume that value later—whether on groceries, healthcare, or travel—so that we don’t have to keep working indefinitely. Put simply, assuming no inflation, investments, or other financial factors, we spend 30–50 years of our working lives stockpiling cash so that one day, we can spend it when we aren’t earning it. Let me be very clear: you save money to convert extra work today into less work tomorrow.
From an economic perspective, saving is the process of moving our excess production—the value we create but do not immediately consume—from the moment of its creation to a point in the future. Historically, this could have meant farming extra land to feed an additional child, ensuring that when you grew old and weary, there would be extra hands to work on the land. From this self-interested perspective, raising an extra child was effectively an early form of a "retirement plan."
It Takes a Village
Now, let’s scale this idea up while staying in a small agricultural economy. For simplicity, assume each villager produces enough food to feed 1.2 people annually, meaning a 10-person village produces 120 units of food. With this surplus, the village develops two key economic functions:
Insurance
Each villager agrees to contribute 1 food units to a community pool at the start of the growing season. If someone's crops fail due to fire, pests, or illness, they can draw from this reserve to avoid starvation. Collectively, the village saves 10 units of food each season for this safety net.
Investment
After eating and setting aside the insurance pool, the village still has 1 unit of surplus food. Instead of letting it spoil, they send a representative to a nearby trading city to find something of value in exchange.
In the market, the representative sees various goods but eventually meets a blacksmith offering a plow and scythe. The blacksmith explains that these tools will allow a single person to farm twice as much land. Excited, the villager trades the food for the equipment and returns home.
The next season, the tools prove their worth, doubling the villager’s productivity. The village now produces 132 food units. After eating and contributing to insurance, the village now has 22 food units to reinvest in more tools. Heck, might as well throw a party and buy a barrel of wine as well!
This cycle of investment and growth has driven human progress for millennia. With the rise of financial systems, we shifted from investing in extra farmhands and new tools to investing in pensions and retirement accounts. But along the way, we broke this cycle of investment.
The Shift from Real Investment to Financialization
For centuries, savings fueled tangible improvements— funding schools, building homes, or financing local businesses. But today, instead of using excess production to strengthen communities, we funnel our savings into massive financial institutions. Rather than lowering costs and improving daily life, we passively invest—increasingly through conglomerate-centric index funds— investing with the hope of innovation, better economies of scale, and most importantly seeing the stock chart to go up.
We shifted from an economic system of savings based on tangible savings and productive local investment to one that centralizes resources and decision-making in massive institutions. Instead of using our excess production to lower costs, strengthen local economies, and improve our daily lives, we have funneled our savings into passive investments— bid-up by global investors to the point of speculation—that pass allocation decisions to professional investors and CEOs leading to a concentration of economic growth in major urban centers. Furthermore, with a focus on percentage gains rather than real productivity, these professional investors have tended to seek rents and create short-sighted gains, at the expense of long-term economic growth.







