Dear Dave Ramsey

Dear Dave Ramsey,

I really do think I agree with just about everything you say. I mean, you’re a smart guy. You’ve built a massive business—an entire industry, really—around what you do. I even have friends who work for you, people who absolutely love working at your company. And what you’ve built? It’s nothing short of impressive.

I’m thankful for you, Dave. I am. You’ve got a worldview that’s clear, and you seem like an incredibly nice person. I’ve seen you on podcasts, and I have to say, you’ve got a great sense of humor and a real joy for life. Honestly, I like you. I really do.

I see people, friends of mine, strangers I hear about, people all over the place who are struggling with credit card debt, car payments, student loans—the whole thing. And I know that what you’re doing is good. You’re trying to lead people toward financial freedom, trying to help them get out of debt. That’s important work, and I respect that. I do.

But here’s where I start to struggle a little. It’s not with your advice, per se, but more with how your advice lands with certain people—specifically young men who are trying to carve out their path in this world.

You see, to do anything meaningful in life, you’re going to go into debt. It’s inevitable. And I’m not just talking about financial debt here. Sure, that’s a big one, but there’s more. You’re going to go into debt with your time, your energy, your relationships, your sleep. To accomplish anything worth doing, you’re going to be pulled in so many directions that something is going to have to give. And that’s a form of debt, too.

Take this for example: If you’re a young man trying to build a business or a career, you’re going to go into debt with your time. You’re going to struggle to give your wife the attention she deserves because your mind is preoccupied with building something. You’ll go into debt with your kids because you’re trying to provide for their future, and that takes time—time you sometimes can’t give to them directly. You’ll be mentally checked out from conversations because you’ve had so many sleepless nights trying to figure out how to pull off the next big thing that you can’t even focus on what’s in front of you.

You might manage to save up for a vacation, but even when you’re on that vacation, your brain will still be in debt, wondering how you’re going to handle the next round of expenses once you’re back.

It’s impossible to live debt-free, Dave. You know it, and I know it. There’s no escaping it. Even if you’ve managed to get your financial house in order, you’re still in debt in other ways. And that’s okay. That’s life. The key, I think, is to embrace it.

Now, I know what it’s like to be in financial debt. I know the struggle. I know the pain. I know the weight of it. And I understand the freedom you want to offer people by helping them shed that weight. It’s important work, and I don’t want to diminish that. But I think we need to embrace the fact that life itself is a form of debt.

I see people walking around with their envelopes, their budgets meticulously planned, their weekly cash set aside. I get it. I understand the value in that discipline. But at the same time, I want to say to them: Don’t be afraid to go into debt. Not recklessly, but as a part of living. As part of building something meaningful.

Because here’s the thing—whether it’s financial debt, emotional debt, or time debt—there’s always going to be something you owe. And it’s that very debt that refines you. If you’re not treading water, if you’re not struggling to keep your head above the surface, then you’re not growing. That debt is what pushes you, what sharpens you. It’s what makes you capable of more.

Young men, especially, need to feel that weight. They need to know what it’s like to be just barely above water, to be moving, struggling, gasping for air, and then coming up for that breath. That’s what refines you. That’s what builds character. If you expect life to always be knee-deep and safe, you’ll never know what to do when you suddenly find yourself in over your head. And make no mistake, that moment will come. And if you’ve never had to fight to keep your head above water, you will drown.

So, my plea to you, and to those who follow you, is this: Embrace the debt. Not just financially, but in all the other ways debt presents itself in life. Because it’s always going to be there. It’s part of the cost of living.

And I don’t mean to say this as a way to criticize your work, Dave. I really don’t. What you’re doing is necessary. I’m just suggesting that maybe we need to look at this from another angle. Financial freedom is important, but so is the understanding that you will always be in some form of debt. It’s part of the human condition, part of the journey.

I’ve spent a lot of time grappling with this idea, and I’ve come to terms with it. We live in a world where anything worth doing will put you in debt—whether it’s your time, your energy, your relationships, your focus. But that’s not a bad thing. It’s part of the process.

So, to you, Dave, and to those who follow your advice, I hope you can see where I’m coming from. We don’t live debt-free, and we probably never will. But maybe, just maybe, that’s okay.

Sincerely,

Darren Doane