Living without credit may be possible, but it isn’t generally a good idea.
— from an article by Evelyn Waugh on Experian.com, “Can You Live Without Credit?”
Apparently, Evelyn Waugh enjoys writing about personal finances, because she’s posted eleven articles on the Experian.com website since February.
I connected with her articles because I’ve been living life without a credit score for quite a while now, and I wondered if I was missing something. And apparently, I am. I’m missing the opportunity to place myself deeply in debt, buying a house or a new car. Or even, doing something silly like applying for a credit card.
Just to be clear. I don’t have a bad credit score. That would be depressing.
I don’t have any credit score at all.
That’s what happens when you stop putting yourself in debt. Experian and TranUnion and Equifax start treating you like you don’t exist.
It turns out that about 45 million Americans don’t have a credit score, also known as “credit invisibility”. By my calculations, that’s nearly one out of every five adults in this country. So maybe I’m in good company. Or at least, in some kind of company.
I look on the situation philosophically. I find philosophy to be helpful when nothing else seems helpful.
A famous French philosopher, René Descartes, once wrote, “Je pense, donc je suis.”
“I think, therefore I am.”
According to FICO, the data company based in Boseman, Montana, it doesn’t matter how much thinking you do. You exist only if you continue buying things on credit.
After my divorce from Darlene, I cut up all my credit cards; a cathartic experience if there ever was one. (I am here using the word ‘cathartic’ in the sense of an emotional and spiritual release… not in its other meaning, related the use of laxatives.)
Cutting up all my cards was crazy thing to do, because I didn’t have any actual money. I have been using my credit cards to pay for everything. And I didn’t have any savings, because… well, because I was using my credit cards to pay for everything.
The next few months were kind of rough, to be honest. The credit card companies still wanted to be paid, even when I explained to them (repeatedly) that I had cut up all my cards, so I didn’t have any money.
A couple of the companies got downright nasty about it. I suspect my credit score, during those months, probably took a big hit. (But I was afraid to look, so I can’t say for sure.)
What I can say, for sure, is that I still existed, in the minds of those credit card companies. You can cut up their cards, but they still have your phone number.
If René Descartes had been writing his philosophical treatise in 2008, he could have written, “J’ai des dettes de carte de crédit, donc je suis.”
“I have credit card debt, therefore I am.”
But he could also have written, “Au bout de quelques années, la dette disparaît comme par magie.”
“After a few years, the debt disappears, just like magic.”
The phone calls disappear… the nasty letters disappear… and your credit score disappears. I was able to open a saving account, get a debit card from my bank, and voila, I could buy things online once more.
A cynical person might ask, “But Louis, do you really exist?”
I will have to think about that.
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all.