By Michael J. Critelli | MakeUsWell Newsletter,
When I was growing up, I was fortunate to have parents who lived through the Great Depression of the 1930s. They were frugal, disciplined, and constantly aware that small choices, repeated every day, add up to big financial consequences. They taught me two timeless lessons: pay close attention to small, daily expenses, and understand the power of compounding interest on what we save.
Charities understood this principle as well. In the 1930s, the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis launched the “March of Dimes,” asking everyday Americans to contribute just ten cents. Millions did, and those nickels and dimes funded the research that ultimately produced the polio vaccine. Small amounts, collected consistently, transformed into something world-changing.
The same principle applies to our food and beverage habits. Too often, media commentators claim that low-income people “cannot afford to eat healthy.” What they overlook is how much money leaks away through daily, habitual purchases of unhealthy food and drinks. Those small, routine indulgences often cost more than healthier alternatives—and they damage our health in the process.
Take coffee for instance. No matter where I am in the world, I start my day with a cup of espresso or black coffee. I know exactly what it costs me, and I accept it as an affordable ritual. But what I do not accept is the parade of oversized, sugary beverages I watch people order at Starbucks, Dunkin’ Donuts, or Caffè Nero. These drinks are loaded with sugar, cost significantly more than plain coffee, and trigger cravings for even more unhealthy food.
An AI-powered nutrition tool I envision could instantly calculate the real cost of these habits: that daily Frappuccino adds up to hundreds, even thousands of dollars a year. More importantly, it quietly consumes a substantial portion of someone’s salary while adding inches to the waistline.
Three decades ago, I gave up adding cream and sugar to my coffee. A holistic medicine practitioner later reinforced the wisdom of that choice: two cups of black coffee a day not only suppress appetite but are dramatically cheaper and healthier than sugary alternatives. I still spend about $2,000 a year on coffee, but I watch others spend nearly double that on drinks that undermine both health and finances.
I also abandoned soda early in my life. Replacing multiple cans of sugary soft drinks with water—tap or filtered—saved me even more than the coffee switch. What shocks me today is watching people with modest incomes load up on soda at convenience stores. They are literally draining their wallets for the privilege of consuming empty calories.
At restaurants, small adjustments also make a big difference. Ordering appetizer-sized portions, splitting entrees, or taking half the meal home can cut costs dramatically while preventing overeating. Servers, who depend on tips, are skilled at upselling desserts, drinks, and oversized portions. But resisting these nudges not only protects our health—it protects our bank accounts.
I’ve also noticed a healthier, thriftier alternative: ordering a salad with added protein instead of a full protein entree. It satisfies the craving without the oversized portion or inflated price. My wife and others who are vigilant about their health routinely ask for half the entree to be boxed immediately. The second meal costs nothing extra, and the calorie load is cut in half.
These seemingly small choices compound over time. By consistently choosing water over soda, plain coffee over sugar-bomb lattes, and smaller meals over oversized ones, we build a reserve of savings. My parents taught us to put those savings into a jar—what they called “paying yourself first.” The feeling of control and empowerment from even modest savings reduces stress and builds long-term wellbeing.
Consider the math: saving $1,000 a year and investing it at 5% interest accumulates over $33,000 in 20 years. Even if we redirect only 25% of that toward savings, we are still $8,250 ahead—while also being healthier, lighter, and less stressed.
The truth is simple. Eating healthy is not beyond our reach. It is a matter of awareness, discipline, and valuing our health enough to redirect small, daily expenditures. By choosing wisely at the margins, we put ourselves first—financially and physically.
Would you like me to also create a companion table that shows annual and 20-year savings from common beverage swaps (e.g., soda → water, Frappuccino → black coffee)? It could make this argument even more persuasive.