Daily-Dose

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From New Yorker

From Vox

NFTs might be bizarre speculative bullshit, but what isn’t? Aren’t we all just finding ways to turn everything that exists into something we can make money off of? I might be throwing away thousands of dollars on NFTs, but you’re throwing away thousands of dollars on TSA PreCheck or lottery tickets or donating to political candidates or raising children. Critics will say NFTs are wasteful and can be used for fraud and other crimes—fine, yeah, find me something that isn’t?

The view may be nihilistic, but in the current scenario, it isn’t entirely wrong. So much of the economy feels like a scam — the gig economy, student loans, the hope of retirement, a 9-to-5 job. Consumers are always being tricked and squeezed by corporations. The promise of the middle class is fading fast, so for a lot of people, it just feels like you might as well lean into whatever financial chaos is available to try to hit it big. If housing prices are so high you’re never going to be able to own a home, why not try your hand at real estate in whatever the metaverse is?

Crypto feels like a scam. So does a lot of the economy.

It’s easy to be dismissive of the current state of casino capitalism, where random people are just tossing random money at random anything. It’s also relatively easy to recognize that this landscape is likely to be one where there are few winners, and the winners are probably going to be the people who were already winning, financially.

“For every one person that makes money, you have 100 people that have lost money. It’s basically just a giant wealth redistribution scheme,” said Stephen Diehl, a software engineer in London who recently laid out a scathing and widely read critique of the crypto asset bubble. “Why it seems so fake is nobody can quite figure out what these things are, and they’re being presented to different people with different stories.”

Dash is one of the originators of the NFT concept, but he worries about the clearly fraudulent nature of some dealings in the market. “They had to coin the phrase ‘rug pull’ to describe the fraud that happens in NFT communities because that type of thing is so common. What does that tell you?”

Value is ultimately a story, one we tell to ourselves and to others. In the United States, we’ve convinced ourselves of the story of the dollar, which is backed by the full force of the US government. But it’s ultimately just a piece of paper. Cryptocurrencies and NFTs and AMC all come with their own stories, which, admittedly, can be on the kooky side.

There’s more to the current money landscape than dogecoin and meme stocks that makes the whole thing seem a little fake. The stock market soared during much of 2020 and 2021, even during the depths of the pandemic, making it hard not to wonder what the whole thing is for. The federal government was able to deliver a lot of money through monetary and fiscal relief to keep the markets — and regular people — afloat. It’s a lesson that when the government needs to find money, it can. But whether or not the influx makes money feel fake depends on your perspective.

“Isn’t this the year that money has felt most real?” said Mike Konczal, director of macroeconomic analysis at the Roosevelt Institute. “Child poverty cut in half, unemployment insurance capable of giving workers actual bargaining power for a change, real wage increases across the majority of people, wealth doubling in the bottom 50 percent.”

It’s a strange place we’re in, which might explain why these tangible improvements don’t seem to dislodge national feelings of alienation. The state of the world and the economy can feel really hopeless. There’s mass distrust in institutions and in government, and economic mobility is increasingly hard to achieve. We’re in the midst of a pandemic that doesn’t look like it’s ever going to really end. NFTs feel like a scam, but then again, so does everything.

Becerra appears determined to stick with NFTs, despite having been very publicly scammed. After all, he’s gone to great lengths to get his bored apes back. When he talks about them, he vacillates between speculator and true believer, in one moment saying he plans to sell them if the price gets high enough, in another talking about them with quite a bit of affection.

“I’m not holding this forever. I don’t care about those apes that much, you know?” he said. He knows the hype could fade. Maybe that will take the sudden value of his cartoon monkeys with it; maybe it won’t. However, he considers the apes to be “blue chip” NFTs, a designation that in the stock world would put them on the same level as well-established major corporations such as Apple and Berkshire Hathaway. “That’s why someone like me, who has money, invests only in the blue-chip ones.”

Most of this is probably a bubble

Becerra, who describes himself as a motivational speaker, high-performance coach, and entrepreneur, compares the current moment in crypto to the 1990s. “This is our dot- com boom,” he said. Of course, the dot-com boom ended in a bust.

It’s impossible to look at what’s happening in investing now and not think that that the prices on many of these assets are divorced from their actual worth. The value of random NFTs and cryptocurrencies skyrocket seemingly out of nowhere, sweeping up hundreds and thousands of people in the process. Sometimes, the bubbles burst fast because the investment falls out of fashion or it winds up being a pump-and-dump scheme, where fraudsters are creating a buying frenzy around certain assets only to suddenly dump them and flee. The broader crypto bubble is still inflating.

If NFTs and crypto, as a concept, prevail, it’s unlikely all of the current projects and fads will. Everybody’s hoping they’ve got a golden ticket, or at least a gold-plated ticket, that they can sell before everyone else realizes what they’ve got is a fraud. Some people in the industry acknowledge that most of this stuff is likely to implode.

“The parallels with the dot-com boom are very apt, the reason being that like 99 percent of these coins out there are going to be worth zero in 10 years. But the ones that remain, the companies that remain … those are going to survive and create long- lasting things that change our lives,” said Jim Greco, managing director of crypto trading at Radkl, a digital trading firm. “Amazon survived the dot-com boom.”

If you buy into the idea that a lot of this investing is pretty divorced from reality, then the question is how long this lasts. For now, the music’s still playing, so people are dancing. How long the song keeps going depends on how long the people holding onto the assets can keep singing.

“It’s really incumbent on people who hold these investments to perpetuate their value, whether that’s through evangelizing to other people or by building systems to make it usable and useful and relevant,” Swartz said. “But then in order to realize the value, to translate it into money, you have to sell it.”

If and when the bubble around some of these hyped investments bursts, a lot of people are going to get hurt and lose money. In NFTs, evidence suggests those who are already wealthy and powerful are the ones ruling the roost, just like in the stock market. While there are true believers in crypto projects, so much of it is just speculation, and venture capitalists and hedge funds are more likely to win the speculation game than the little guys caught up in the mania.

Hilary Allen, a law professor at American University who specializes in financial regulation, said the risk around so many speculative and contrived investments on the market is more tied to the potential ripple effects. Essentially, is the current moment the dot-com bubble or the lead-up to the 2008 financial crisis?

“If it’s just a dot-com bubble, it sucks for the people who invested,” she said. “But if it’s 2008, then we’re all screwed, even those of us who aren’t investing, and that’s not fair. It really depends on who’s getting into this and how integrated it’s getting with the rest of the financial system.”

What happens when loan repayment restarts an open question. From an administrative perspective, it could get messy. Before the pandemic — and when the economy was ostensibly in a stronger position — people were already struggling to pay. During the 2019 federal fiscal year, which runs from October 1 to September 30, over 1.2 million student borrowers defaulted on their loans. That means one borrower defaulted on a federal loan every 26 seconds. According to Ben Kaufman, head of investigations and senior policy adviser at the Student Borrower Protection Center, that’s more than four times the rate of mortgage foreclosures.

Many borrowers have welcomed the pandemic-driven student loan freeze and, in some cases, benefited financially from the pause. Without looming monthly payments, they’ve been able to pay down other debts, take vacations, build up their savings, and make important purchases they’d held off on. Some have continued to chip away at their federal loans; these borrowers have taken advantage of the interest freeze to make large payments and reach the principal debt amount they owed after years of paying accumulating interest. Others have used the time to divert their efforts toward private loans, which weren’t ever paused.

We spoke with seven student borrowers about what the pause has done for them — what they’ve done with the money, whether it’s affected their lives, and if it has or hasn’t, how. Their answers, edited for length and clarity, are below.

Several people Vox spoke to for this story requested that their last names be withheld to protect their privacy.


Cheryl Patton, 43, living in Texas

Master’s degree, clinical mental health
Owes: about $51,000 through federal loans

I had to do some emergency repairs on my home because I had a sewer pipe break. It literally happened the day after I had surgery, and my refrigerator broke the following day. When it rains it pours. It’s hard to save money when you have a student loan payment every month that’s equivalent to a BMW payment. I’m very fortunate that I don’t have a car payment right now, so that’s been helpful. But I work a part-time job just to pay my student loans every month, which means that I get to spend less time with my kids, less time with my family; it’s just what I have to do to survive.

With the pause, I was able to save some money, and I went on a vacation by myself to South Dakota to visit my cousin and see the place where my grandpa was born. My cousin’s father worked on Mount Rushmore. It was the best therapy for my mental health and well-being. I did some car repairs and just a few different things around my house that needed to be repaired, some drawers and cabinets.

The pause has also enabled me to spend a little bit more on my health care because I’ve been able to better afford copayments. Medical care is expensive, and any kind of specialty care has at least a $40 copay just for me.

I am a single mom, and both of my sons are on the autism spectrum. My oldest son lives in a group home about 15 minutes away because I have to work two jobs, and I don’t have immediate family in Texas. Because I work so much, I spend less time with my disabled adult son who could so greatly benefit from having his mother around a lot more. My younger son turned 18 in February, and to file for legal guardianship, I had to put down a $5,000 retainer for an attorney. Life is just so expensive. I did pay on my loans some $3,200 to take advantage of the zero interest.

I’m more than willing to pay my debt, but just give me a fair chance.


Alex Warneke, 31, Washington

Master’s degree, sports management
Owes: $87,499 through federal loans

I have upward of $85,000 of student loan debt. With the forbearance period, I was finally able to pay into some of the principal of my loans. I was thankfully employed throughout the pandemic, so I’ve been continuing to pay. So far, most of what I’ve paid have been excess payments that I can allocate to whichever one of my loans I see fit. I started paying the interest down on my high-interest-rate loans and am actually getting into the principal of those balances. That’s really exciting for me. Since I graduated in 2014, I haven’t touched the principal because the interest rates were so high through the federal government and my loan servicer.

I’ve been paying off my debt for six to seven years but until now, I haven’t paid off the principal. It’s the way that the monthly payments are distributed; the amount I pay gets divided among each loan I have so that it’s never enough to pay off the accruing interest. I’m not alone in this. You commonly hear people complain about their loan balance going up even while they’re paying consistently.

My income level might’ve gone up after grad school, but that doesn’t necessarily correlate to the amount of dead weight I’m still holding financially. Even if there is going to be some sort of debt cancellation, there might be a stipulation that you have to make under a certain income level. I’ve been on income-based repayment for my entire pay period. The issue is that if you’re in a lot of debt, your payments increase along with your income, so you’re not able to save any money. I know I have to pay some amount of interest on these loans, but the interest rates right now are almost punitive.


Rebecca Bailey, 30, New York

MBA in accounting
Owes: about $75,000 total, $65,000 are private loans

It definitely gave more flexibility in my budget. Prior to the pause, my federal student loan payment was $378 per month, and that’s in addition to private student loans I’d refinanced, so I was paying over $1,000 a month and still am doing that. I took the opportunity to reflect and pause on other debt that I had to reduce the interest associated with those other debts. I did a couple more private student loan refinance deals and was able to get the interest for that to under 3 percent, which was really great. And then I also refinanced credit card debt consolidation. That was at 8 percent before, and now it’s somewhere around 5 percent. I really just used the other money to put it toward other debt.

Previously, I was just putting state tax refunds into a 529 account, [a savings plan to help pay for education], but I was able to allocate some of my monthly budget into a 529 in hopes that I can make a lump sum payment into student loan debt. I’m the account holder and beneficiary right now, but the good news is if I do have kids, I can switch it to one of their names as the beneficiary.

My credit score has increased by more than 40 points, and my previously nonexistent net worth has increased to above $150,000.

What most people don’t realize is that for federal student loan payments, if you’re on an income-driven plan, that payment is based on your adjusted gross income from your taxes that you file every year. Most people with student loan debt are so afraid to allocate a ton of money to retirement thinking that they just can’t afford it. They don’t realize that if they contribute more to a 401(k) through their employer, it reduces their student loan payment for income-driven plans. Especially for younger people, it just makes a lot of sense because the more they contribute and the earlier they contribute, the more opportunities they have. Most people don’t understand the connection for that, or which levers to pull and how.


Sarah R., 35, Minnesota

Doctor of Pharmacy degree
Owes: about $270,000, mostly through federal loans

The pause came at a really good time. I’m a health care worker, so obviously, I was still employed during the beginning of Covid when a lot of people were getting laid off. I was able to keep working and set money aside for maternity leave. I had a baby in June, and I was on maternity leave for three months. I used two weeks of paid vacation for that, but otherwise, the rest was unpaid. My student loan payments were about $1,100 a month, $500 private, $650 federal. I was saving that $650 a month during this whole time that it’s been paused.

When we were filing our taxes for 2020, I realized I’d only paid off about $10,000 last year. It was depressing, but it kind of made sense because I had taken some time off. It was at that point in time, in May, that I decided I was going to tackle that $25,000 that was sitting in my private loans as long as the federal loans were still paused. I tried paying it down using [personal finance expert] Dave Ramsey’s debt snowball strategy, paying off the smallest debts first. My next paycheck is Christmas Eve, and in between that and my Christmas bonus, I’m anticipating paying off the last $2,900. That’s going to be my Christmas present, New Year’s present, starting off the year with no more private debt.

My plan for this year, instead of doing a debt snowball, is to use the debt avalanche method. Because my federal student loans have varying student rates, my highest student loan interest rate is almost 6.5 percent, and that’s about $40,000. My goal for this year is to pay off that $40,000 and keep making minimum payments on the rest. The next highest is 5 percent, and I’m going to work my way down until my lowest one.


Noé Madrueño, 24, California

Bachelor’s degree, human biology
Owes: about $53,000 in federal loans

The forbearance period gave me a lot more flexibility to spend money without added pressure. I graduated from college during the pandemic, but I was able to find work. I made the decision to save money because I had this window of flexibility.

I was kind of hoping Covid would lead to some debt forgiveness, so it didn’t make sense for me to start paying early. I went to college as a first-generation student, so I didn’t have a lot of knowledge about how loans or financial aid worked. During this grace period, I became more financially literate, so that I can also help out my younger sisters who might go to college in a few years. Currently, I’m on track to pay off my loans over a 25- to 30-year period, which amounts to about $200-$350 worth of payments a month.

It was nice not having the thought of student loans constantly in the back of my mind. I was able to invest, go on vacation, buy a car, and spend a bit on myself. At one point, I even thought about putting down money for a house. I had around $15,000 in my savings account then, but I had an unexpected medical emergency, which the savings went toward. Still, I wasn’t as concerned about money because my loans weren’t due every month.


Victoria D., 23, Arizona

Bachelor’s degree, psychology
Owes: about $36,000 in federal loans

I graduated into the pandemic and was living by myself during the first year of forbearance, so I still had expenses to pay for rent, food, utilities, and insurance. At one point, I was working three part-time jobs. I would work two main jobs during the week that were more career-focused, and I had a retail job during the weekend. After spending four months applying for jobs, I finally got a full-time position and was able to purchase a car.

I wasn’t banking on the fact that my student loans would be forgiven due to Covid, so I started looking at future career options that can help me with these loans long term. I plan to go back and get my master’s degree in social work in the fall, which will push back my loan repayment. It’s a six-plus-year plan, but after I get my master’s and start working for the government or a nonprofit organization for a few years, I can qualify for $50,000 to $75,000 worth of loan forgiveness in Arizona.

The forbearance period allowed me to focus on paying for my essentials and maintain my standard of living, since I didn’t have to funnel my money into loans. Even without Covid, I knew that I had to start making payments six months after I graduated. I’ve been working two jobs throughout my entire college career. I tried to scale back how much money I took out, even though I was allowed more, but I’ve been living paycheck to paycheck. I’m always focused on making sure everything is paid for the month, so I haven’t been able to budget much.


Kaitlin Phillips, 33, North Carolina

Master’s degree, journalism
Owes: about $35,000 in private loans

My student loans are refinanced under a private lender, so the Covid forbearance didn’t apply to my situation. My husband also lost his job during the pandemic, so for a while, our finances were pretty tight. I still have about $35,000 left to go.

I completely understand the focus on federal student loans and how confusing the system is set up to be. But there’s also this subset of private borrowers who aren’t given as much attention and are also struggling with high interest rates. I didn’t start out with entirely private loans. A couple years after I finished grad school in 2011, I tried to pay off my loans through an income-driven repayment plan. For some reason, it didn’t take into account expenses like rent, so I was being asked to pay thousands of dollars a month.

I ended up consolidating both my federal and private loans through Earnest, and locked in a 6 percent interest rate for the life of the loans. What I pay every month doesn’t change with my income, and the rate is pretty good compared to what it was before when all my loans were from different providers. I was finally able to pay into the principal of my loans with consolidation.

If I was mostly paying interest this entire time, that would’ve been, psychologically speaking, a lot harder. And although I’m just a few years away from being done with my payments, I don’t want other people to have to go through that. I’ve wasted so much money paying off interest. I have worked in the nonprofit sector for several years, and because of my private loans, I’m not eligible for the public service loan forgiveness program. Most people don’t realize that.

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