I feel neither the article nor this comment is relevant to the majority of people who use this site. 80k is roughly the average yearly salary of someone doing interface design work in my city.

Talking about how much less you make and how it's a relief rather than a burden is perhaps the most transparent version of humble-bragging conceivable.

I suppose it’s your prerogative to be snarky and dismissive, if you choose. Fair enough. (That said, I’m not sure where the benefit is in it.)

For many years, I worked more hours than I’m proud of. Doing so helped our family cover payments, which was important. That said, it also took an toll on my health, happiness, and the relationship I have with my kids. Now that our kids are a bit older, and both my wife and I are working, we have a little more room to make certain life decisions. (For example, my wife chooses to work with refugees, earning far less than she could—because she thinks this work is important. I tend to agree with her.)

To your point, I am privileged—in the way that many middle-class people are privileged. I went to a decent school; I have a fine job; and my kids don’t go hungry. That said, my life is far from extravagant. From a quick look at your LinkedIn profile, it appears our socio-economic standings are probably quite similar.

Where we probably differ most is in age. From what I gather, you’re quite young; whereas, the few hairs I have left on my head are quickly turning grey. (Much like I was warned by those before me, this happened a lot faster than I thought it would.)

You might read my post as the ramblings of someone who has more than his share. That’s not really the case, though. It’s just a decision to put prioritize time with family, and projects that I find meaningful.

For you, that might not seem as important. That said, your perspective might change. On the other side of 40, time starts to seem increasingly valuable. When the time comes, you might find yourself asking if a four-day workweek might be worth the pay cut. Or, you might decide that your side-project is more important than your corporate gig. Or, you might sell your stuff, and spend a year on the road.

Alternately, you might just continue to troll these boards, and make snide comments. Who knows what the future will bring? ;-)

I agree: some simply don’t have a choice. They live in poverty, or so close to the poverty line, that they need to do whatever they can to cover costs. That’s a shitty spot to be in, and precludes such a debate about whether to earn less and take more time for oneself.

On the other hand, many people do have a choice. They can cook at home instead of going to restaurants. They can buy clothing second hand. They can move to a less expensive city. They can go for a hike instead of to the movies. They can use their old iPhone, instead of upgrading every time a new one comes out. For many of us, there’s an opportunity to live on less—if we’re sufficiently motivated to do so. (I’m sort of fascinated with this topic, and found some interesting examples of people who’ve made deliberate decisions around their living situations, like this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=viv4Dwk1XYc)

I don’t mean to imply that others should make the same choices I have—quite to the contrary. I feel that each of us should think carefully about what matters to us, and then make decisions that best suit our personal needs. Admittedly, though, this takes some deal of contemplation, and sometimes restraint. The tough part is that a high-paced consumer culture tends to treat more as the primary solution—in spite of the fact that it often isn’t.

There’s some interesting research on this topic. The common finding seems to be that after a certain amount (around $50k/annually) income doesn’t have a great impact on happiness. Having enough money to not worry about money/shelter is hugely important. After that, it’s a diminishing returns scenario. (I’ve met many wealthy folks who’re miserable, and many middle-class people who’re quite content.)

I see it less like an experiment, and more as a choice.

I did something similar in 2000, when we started our studio. I went from a decently paying (for the time) production job to making very little ($6,000 for the year), so I could get the studio off the ground. It was lean for a stretch, but it allowed us the time we needed to find some clients, build our skills, and learn about the business.

Over the past ~20 years, I’ve gone up in pay, and I’ve gone down. Most times the change is only notable for a short period (regardless of whether it’s an increase or decrease). However, happiness/satisfaction on the job is something with more lasting impact.

As for socking money away, I agree: a healthy retirement fund is a good thing. However, there are problems with this approach.

The first, is that most people (in spite of good intentions) don’t actually do it. Maybe you’re the exception. I’m actually sort of curious about this: do you put 30% of your income into savings and ignore its existence?

The second, is that a lot of folks never get to retirement. Over the past few years, I’ve watched a number of friends die, suddenly. The time they had with their families was what they had to share.

Don’t get me wrong. If you believe that saving money for your retirement is the best thing you can do for your kids, you should probably do that. My choice, though, is to be present for my kids now.

I’m glad you found some of the post relatable. :-)

As for having the freedom to work on things you care about? I think that just requires the right set of choices—and time. For example, I spent the first 7 months of 2015, working intense hours, so we could put aside some cash. It was a tough stretch, with no days off. However, it bought us time to work on http://www.officehours.io. Now, we’re at a spot at which we can either take on more client work and maintain our wages; or, take a pay cut, and spread out our runway a little longer. We opted for the latter.

It sounds like you’re already on your way with your project, so the above might be similar to what you’re doing too. In either event, it’s a bit of a juggle to transition to different types of work—but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. :-)

As for raises, we never got to the “ballin’ out of control” stage, either (when I took more out of the company). In fact, that’s what I find so interesting about how money actually gets spent. It’s typically not on the big stuff, but rather the small, everyday purchases that make the difference. For example, most folks see a holiday as lavish, but think of a daily Starbucks latte as no big deal. Yet, over a year, the two cost roughly the same.

Privilege is a relative term. I think I’m sort of “middle class privileged.” I have the opportunity to choose less pay for more time. That said, it’s not like we live a lavish lifestyle. In fact, living in Vancouver means a relatively frugal lifestyle, even at the best of times (housing is very expensive here).

I suppose a part of my privilege relates to our situation at this exact moment. Five years ago, such a decision was out of the question. My wife was going to school, our kids were in daycare, and if I didn’t earn, we wouldn’t have been able to swing it.

Since then, our kids got older (now 7 and 9), my wife started working (not a high-paying job, but it’s something), and I cut a lot of our business expenses, freeing up some funds. We’re far from rich (very, very, very far from being rich) but we feel it’s important to make choices that we’re happy with.

Thanks for the link. :-)

Another good one: https://www.ted.com/talks/dan_gilbert_asks_why_are_we_happy?language=en

As I noted in the post, it’s my company. So, I’m taking less money out of it, in order to afford myself more time (for family and our startup).

It sounds like you and I have experienced some similar things. We started our studio with no outside help/funding. We began without any clients, and we had limited experience. But, we worked our asses off—and, in time, got to a decent spot.

However, there were trade-offs as well. The most notable one was time with family. All those meetings, late nights, and business trips (I hated those) took a toll. When my youngest was 5, I realized that we really didn’t know one another. My wife would send me photos of the kids on hikes, and I’d be stuck in the office, because there was always more I could do.

Along the way, I reasoned that I just had to keep going. I felt that if I pushed harder, got the gigs, and kept them running, everything would work out—in the long run. It didn’t actually pan out that way, though. I was trading my time with my family for a mirage. In a service-based business work begets work. So, the more you do, the more you (typically) need to do.

I guess that’s my word of caution to you. I’ve been where you are, and what you say makes sense. But, damn those kids grow up fast. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you can get that time back.

As for the heated leather seats? It’s great that you like ‘em, but that’s just stuff.