There’s a seven-year window in most people’s lives when they make more consequential financial decisions than they’ll make in any other period.
It runs roughly from age 18 to 25.
During those seven years, you’ll decide whether to take out student loans and how much to borrow. You’ll get your first real job and see how much actually hits your bank account after taxes. You’ll sign your first lease. You’ll get your first credit card. You’ll buy or finance your first car. You’ll choose health insurance, probably for the first time. You’ll decide whether to start saving for retirement or put it off.
These aren’t practice runs. They’re binding commitments. And the choices you make during this window will shape your financial reality for years, sometimes decades, to come.
Here’s the question that should bother us: Where in your education were you taught how to make any of these decisions?
Most people graduate high school having spent years studying algebra, biology, and literary analysis. They can tell you about the Pythagorean theorem or the causes of the Civil War. But they can’t calculate the true cost of a car loan. They don’t know the difference between a W-2 and a 1099. They’ve never seen a lease agreement or a credit card disclosure.
We require four years of English and math because we’ve decided these subjects are foundational. But we don’t require even one semester of financial literacy, despite the fact that every single student will have to navigate credit, debt, insurance, taxes, and long-term planning within months of graduation.
I know because I lived it. I had an accounting degree from one of New York’s best business schools. I worked at a major firm. And I still made costly mistakes in my early twenties because understanding accounting theory is not the same as knowing how to manage your own money.
So let’s walk through the major financial decisions most people face before they turn 25. Not just to explain what they are, but to ask a more fundamental question: If these decisions are so important, why isn’t anyone teaching students how to make them?
Student Loans: The First Big Bet
For most people, the first major financial decision happens before they’ve ever had a full-time job.
It’s the decision about student loans.
More than 4 in 10 people who pursue education beyond high school take out student loans. If you get a bachelor’s degree, there’s nearly a 50% chance you’ll borrow to pay for it. If you go on to graduate school, the likelihood jumps to 54%.
The median borrower graduates owing between $20,000 and $25,000. But plenty owe much more.
Here’s what they didn’t teach you:
Nobody taught you how to calculate what your monthly payment would actually be. A $30,000 loan at 6% interest paid over 10 years costs you about $333 a month. That’s $4,000 a year, every year, for a decade. Stretch it to 20 years with minimum payments, and you’ll pay over $20,000 in interest alone.
Nobody explained the difference between federal and private loans, or why that matters. Federal loans have income-driven repayment, deferment options, potential forgiveness programs. Private loans don’t. But most 18-year-olds don’t know to ask.
Nobody taught you to think about expected salary in your field and whether the loan payment would be manageable on that income. You’re borrowing at 17 or 18, making assumptions about what you’ll earn at 22, with no framework for evaluating whether the math works.
Here’s why it matters:
Student loan payments aren’t just a line item in your budget. They determine how much rent you can afford. Whether you can save for an emergency fund. How quickly you can pay off other debt. Whether you can contribute to retirement in your twenties, when compound growth matters most.
I’ve seen people stuck in jobs they hate because they need the salary to cover loan payments. I’ve seen people delay buying a home, starting a family, or launching a business because the debt load is too heavy.
The decision you make at 17 about how much to borrow shapes your financial reality for the next decade. Sometimes longer.
And most people make it with almost no understanding of what they’re signing up for.
So where were you supposed to learn this?
This is the first major financial decision most people make. It happens at 17 or 18, before you’ve filed taxes, held a full-time job, or managed a budget.
And yet, in most high schools, there’s no class on how to evaluate student loans. No one walks you through how to calculate monthly payments. No one explains the difference between federal and private loans, or what income-driven repayment means, or how to think about borrowing relative to expected earnings.
You’re handed financial aid paperwork and told to sign. That’s it.
For a decision that will affect you for a decade or more, you get no preparation. Just forms and deadlines.
Your First Real Job: The Paycheck That’s Smaller Than You Expected
You get the job offer. The salary sounds great. You do the math: $50,000 a year divided by 12 months is about $4,166 a month. You start planning your budget around that number.
Then you get your first paycheck. It’s not $4,166. It’s closer to $3,200.
Welcome to the difference between gross pay and net pay.
Here’s what they didn’t teach you:
Nobody taught you the difference between gross and net. You see the salary number and assume that’s what you’ll take home. It’s not.
After federal taxes, state taxes (in most states), Social Security, Medicare, and any benefits you elect, you might take home 65-70% of your gross pay. Sometimes less.
Nobody explained what all those deductions mean or why they matter:
- Federal income tax (based on your income and filing status)
- State income tax (varies by state, some have none)
- Social Security (6.2% of your pay, up to a cap)
- Medicare (1.45% of your pay)
- Health insurance premiums (if you elect coverage)
- 401(k) contributions (if you sign up, comes out pre-tax)
Nobody taught you to evaluate total compensation, not just salary. A job that pays $50,000 with no benefits might be worse than a job that pays $48,000 with full health insurance, 5% 401(k) matching, and three weeks of paid time off. But most people only look at the salary number.
Here’s why it matters:
If you budget based on your gross salary instead of your net pay, you’ll consistently overspend. You’ve signed a lease, committed to a car payment, maybe taken out loans, all based on money you thought you’d have but don’t actually receive.
And if you don’t understand what employer matching means, you leave thousands of dollars on the table. Free money you never got because nobody explained how it worked.
Your First Credit Card: The Interest Rate You Didn’t Notice
Most people get their first credit card in college or right after. The offers are everywhere. Sign up and get a free t-shirt. Earn cash back. Build your credit.
What they don’t tell you is that the average credit card interest rate is around 20%. And if you carry a balance, that interest compounds.
Here’s what they didn’t teach you:
Nobody taught you how compound interest works when it’s working against you. If you charge $2,000 and only pay the minimum payment of $25 a month, you’re not paying down the debt. You’re mostly paying interest. It will take you years to pay off, and you’ll end up paying hundreds, sometimes thousands, more than you borrowed.
Nobody explained what your credit score is or why it matters. Credit cards are how most people build (or destroy) their credit. A good score means lower interest rates on everything: car loans, mortgages, personal loans. It can affect whether a landlord will rent to you. Some employers check credit as part of hiring.
A bad score, caused by missed payments or maxed-out cards, means you’ll pay more for the same car, the same apartment, the same loan. For years.
Nobody taught you how to evaluate a credit card offer. A card with no annual fee and a reasonable interest rate is fine. A card with a 29% APR, a $99 annual fee, and hidden charges is predatory. But if you don’t know what to look for, they all sound the same.
Here’s why it matters:
Credit card debt is easy to accumulate and hard to escape. You use it for things you want but can’t quite afford. You tell yourself you’ll pay it off next month. But next month, something else comes up. So you pay the minimum. The balance grows. The interest piles on.
Before long, you’re carrying several thousand dollars in debt and paying $50 or more a month just in interest. Your credit score drops because your utilization is too high. You’re stuck in a cycle that’s hard to break.
I did this. I accepted every credit card offer I received. I maxed them out. I didn’t understand what I was doing until the damage was done.
So where were you supposed to learn how credit cards actually work?
Not in high school. Most states don’t require it.
You might get a brief mention of credit in an economics class, but that’s not the same as understanding how to evaluate an offer, what APR actually costs you, or why carrying a balance is so expensive.
Instead, you learn by trial and error. And the errors are costly.
Your First Apartment: The Lease You Didn’t Read
Signing a lease feels like a rite of passage. You’re moving out. Getting your own place. Starting adult life.
But a lease is a legal contract. And most people sign it without reading it.
The median rent in the U.S. is now over $1,300 a month. That’s $15,600 a year. For many young people, it’s the single largest expense in their budget.
Here’s what they didn’t teach you:
Nobody taught you how to read a lease. What happens if you need to break it early? What are you responsible for fixing? What counts as “normal wear and tear” versus damage you’ll be charged for? Most people don’t know until it’s too late.
Nobody explained the 30% rule: your rent should be no more than 30% of your gross income. If you make $3,000 a month, you shouldn’t be paying more than $900 in rent. But nobody teaches you to calculate this, so you find a place you love that’s “a little more than you wanted to spend,” and you convince yourself you’ll make it work.
Nobody taught you to budget for more than just rent. There’s the security deposit (usually one or two months’ rent), utility setup fees, renters insurance, and the cost of actually moving. Most people are surprised by how much it costs just to get in the door.
Here’s why it matters:
When you sign a lease you can’t afford, everything else suffers. You can’t save. You can’t pay down debt. You’re living paycheck to paycheck, one unexpected expense away from missing rent.
And if you do miss rent, the consequences compound. Late fees. Eviction proceedings. Damage to your rental history that makes it harder to rent in the future.
You find a place you love. It’s a little more than you wanted to spend, but you sign the lease without reading the fine print. You move in. And then you realize the rent, plus utilities, plus your car payment, plus student loans, plus everything else, leaves you with almost nothing at the end of the month.
You’re stressed. You’re behind on other bills. And you’re locked into a lease for a year.
Your First Car Purchase: The Loan That Costs More Than the Sticker Price
Buying a car is exciting. It’s freedom. Mobility. Independence.
It’s also one of the easiest places to make an expensive mistake.
Here’s what they didn’t teach you:
Nobody taught you the difference between the sticker price and the total cost. A $25,000 car financed at 7% interest over five years costs you about $495 a month. Over the life of the loan, you’ll pay nearly $30,000 for a car that’s worth $25,000 today and will be worth much less in five years.
At 10% interest, that same car costs over $31,000. That’s $6,000 in interest alone.
Nobody explained that “low monthly payment” offers usually mean longer loan terms, which means more interest over time. The dealer focuses on the monthly number because it sounds manageable. They don’t emphasize that you’ll be paying it for six or seven years.
Nobody taught you how to evaluate what you can actually afford. Not what the dealer says you can afford based on your income, but what fits in your budget alongside rent, loans, insurance, and everything else. Most people walk onto a lot, fall in love with a car, and sign without understanding the full cost.
Here’s why it matters:
A car payment is a fixed monthly expense that limits your flexibility for years. It’s money that could be going toward savings, retirement, or paying down other debt.
If you finance more car than you can afford, or take a loan with a high interest rate because your credit isn’t great, you’re locking yourself into years of payments that strain your budget.
And because cars depreciate the moment you drive them off the lot, you can end up owing more than the car is worth. If something happens and you need to sell it, you’re still on the hook for the difference.
I did this. I took out a high-interest auto loan because I didn’t know how to evaluate the offer. The salesperson ran the numbers and said they could get me into the car for a certain monthly payment. I didn’t ask what the interest rate was. I didn’t ask how long the loan was. I just signed.
It cost me far more than it should have.
Health Insurance: The Decision You Hope Doesn’t Matter
When you age out of your parents’ insurance at 26, or when you start your first full-time job, you have to choose a health insurance plan.
For most young people, this feels abstract. You’re healthy. You don’t go to the doctor much. So you pick the cheapest plan and move on.
Here’s what they didn’t teach you:
Nobody explained the difference between a premium (what you pay every month) and a deductible (what you pay out of pocket before insurance covers anything). A high-deductible plan has low monthly premiums, which sounds great. But if you get sick or injured, you’ll pay thousands before insurance kicks in.
Nobody taught you to think about your actual health needs when choosing a plan. If you take medication, see a therapist, or have ongoing medical needs, a high-deductible plan might cost you more in the long run even though the premium is lower.
Nobody explained what’s covered and what’s not. Some plans don’t cover certain medications or specialists without prior authorization. You don’t find out until you need care.
Here’s why it matters:
Medical expenses are one of the leading causes of financial hardship in the U.S. Even with insurance, an unexpected illness or injury can cost thousands.
If you’re uninsured or underinsured, a single emergency room visit can wipe out your savings. A serious illness can put you in debt for years.
You pick the cheapest plan. You don’t think about it again. Then something happens. An accident. An illness. A prescription you need.
You go to the doctor and find out your deductible is $5,000. You can’t afford it, so you delay treatment. Or you go into debt.
Retirement: The Decision That Feels Decades Away
When you start your first job, someone from HR probably mentions a 401(k). They might even say the company offers matching contributions.
Most people in their twenties nod and move on. Retirement is 40 years away. It doesn’t feel urgent.
Here’s what they didn’t teach you:
Nobody taught you about compound growth and why time is the most valuable ingredient. If you invest $200 a month starting at age 25 and earn an average 7% return, by age 65 you’ll have about $525,000. If you wait until you’re 35 to start, you’ll have about $245,000.
Waiting ten years costs you more than half your potential retirement savings. But nobody explains this when you’re 23 and retirement feels impossibly far away.
Nobody explained what employer matching actually means. If your employer matches 3%, that means they’ll contribute 3% of your salary if you contribute 3%. That’s free money. But if you don’t sign up, you leave it on the table.
Nobody taught you that you don’t have to max out your contributions to benefit. Even $50 or $100 a month in your twenties compounds into a substantial amount over four decades. But most young people think retirement savings is all-or-nothing, so they don’t start at all.
Here’s why it matters:
The money you don’t invest in your twenties is money you can never get back, because you can’t recapture the time.
You skip the 401(k) signup. You tell yourself you’ll start saving later, when you’re making more money. Later comes. You’re making more money, but you also have more expenses. A bigger apartment. A car payment. Maybe a family.
You still haven’t started. And now you’re 35, and you realize you’re a decade behind where you should be.
The years you waited are the years that would have mattered most.
I made every version of this mistake. I didn’t contribute to my 401(k) in the early stages of my career. When I finally did start contributing, I left a job just months before my employer matching vested. I walked away from thousands of dollars that would have been mine if I’d waited a few more months.
And then, on two separate occasions, I withdrew my entire 401(k) balance after leaving a job. I needed the money for immediate expenses. I didn’t think about the long-term cost.
Those withdrawals didn’t just cost me the money I took out. They cost me decades of compound growth on that money. They cost me the employer contributions I’d forfeited. And they cost me in taxes and penalties for early withdrawal.
Looking back, those decisions probably cost me six figures in retirement savings. Money I’ll never get back, no matter how aggressively I save now.
This Isn’t an Accident
Here’s what all of these decisions have in common: they’re complicated, they have long-term consequences, and most people make them with little to no guidance.
But here’s what should bother you: this isn’t because the information doesn’t exist. It’s because we’ve chosen not to teach it.
We know what financial decisions young people will face. We know when they’ll face them. We know that mistakes are expensive and that they compound over time.
And yet we’ve decided, as a society, that financial literacy isn’t important enough to require.
We require students to take four years of English because we believe reading and writing are foundational skills. We require four years of math because we believe quantitative reasoning matters. We require science and social studies because we believe understanding the world is important.
But we don’t require even one semester on how to evaluate a loan, read a lease, choose insurance, or plan for retirement.
The result is entirely predictable: millions of young people make expensive mistakes. Not because they’re irresponsible or lazy, but because they were never taught.
The Questions We Should Be Asking
I made a lot of these mistakes. I took out a high-interest auto loan. I maxed out credit cards. I didn’t contribute to my 401(k) for the first two years of my career, leaving thousands of dollars in employer matching on the table.
I got through it. I paid off the debt. I rebuilt my credit. I caught up on retirement savings.
But it took years. And it cost me tens of thousands of dollars in interest, fees, and missed opportunities.
The reason I’m writing this isn’t just to help you avoid the mistakes I made. It’s to ask a bigger question: Why is any of this necessary?
Why do we send students into adulthood knowing they’ll face these decisions, but we don’t teach them how to make them?
Why do we treat financial literacy as optional when financial decisions are mandatory?
Why do schools spend years teaching subjects students may never use again, but skip the knowledge they’ll need within months of graduation?
These aren’t rhetorical questions. They have answers. And the answers reveal something important about how education policy is made, who has influence over what gets taught, and why systemic change is so hard.
That’s what this project is about. Not just explaining what you need to know, but investigating why you were never taught it in the first place.
Because until we understand why financial literacy has been left out, we can’t fix the problem. We can only keep telling young people to figure it out on their own and hope they don’t make the same expensive mistakes the generation before them did.
Next: We’ll look at what schools actually do teach, and how curriculum decisions get made. Because if financial literacy matters this much, someone decided it didn’t belong in the classroom. Who made that decision? And why?
Sources
∙ Federal Reserve, Survey of Consumer Finances, 2022
∙ Education Data Initiative, Student Loan Debt Statistics, 2024
∙ Federal Reserve, Consumer Credit Report, 2024
∙ U.S. Census Bureau, Median Gross Rent in the United States
∙ Kaiser Family Foundation, Health Care Debt Survey, 2022
∙ CFPB, Medical Debt and Its Impact on Consumer Credit, 2022