Lessons from a Make-Believe Town: Teaching Debt, Business — and Denial"

Thetoryiginals on a quiet drive to my favorite berry farm, windows down, enjoying the soft hum of summer wind and a radio show playing in the background. I wasn't expecting anything profound. But somehow, that short drive ended with one of the biggest revelations I've had in years — and it came from a place I least expected: a summer camp for kids.

The segment on the radio was about an educational camp called BizTown, where children between the ages of 10 and 12 were given a simulated environment to learn how the economy works. From job applications to loan approvals, from startup planning to handling virtual money — they were to build a small business from scratch and run it.

The concept intrigued me. The kids had to apply for jobs, go through mock interviews, and not everyone got the role they wanted. Once hired, they began creating business plans — complete with income projections, expenses, and break-even analysis — all simplified but remarkably reflective of the real world.

But what struck me most wasn't the idea of young kids playing entrepreneurs. It was how early the concept of debt was introduced, and more surprisingly, how deeply accepted it was.

If a business needed startup capital, the kids were taught to go to the bank — either a simulated KeyBank or a fictional credit union — and apply for a loan. The banks weren’t judged by how much money they loaned out, but by how many of those loans were successfully repaid. It was, essentially, a small-scale capitalist playground, teaching children that to get ahead, borrowing is not only normal — it’s expected.

A young girl acting as the CEO of KeyBank had to reject a loan due to poor calculation. She then tracked down the kids who submitted the flawed proposal, helped them fix it, and allowed them to resubmit. Meanwhile, the credit union’s young CEO commented that he would have approved the loan on the first try. Clearly, competitive spirit was alive and well — as was the idea that bending rules just a little might be okay in the name of efficiency.

Up to that point, I admired the camp. The kids were learning skills most adults never touch until it's too late — budgeting, planning, cost control, even hiring and firing.

But then came the twist.

Not all the businesses succeeded. Some, like a pretend insurance company, took a loan of $75 but only sold $45 worth of services. They tried to cut costs, reduce salaries, and divert whatever small profits they had to repaying their loan. But they were still short — a common reality in actual small business life.

And here’s where everything changed.

Rather than allowing the businesses to fail — a natural and important part of entrepreneurship — the adult facilitators quietly injected extra money into the kids’ accounts. Not enough to be noticed, but just enough to cover the deficit. The kids were delighted, of course. Loans paid, crisis averted, and lesson “learned.”

But was it?

A journalist covering the story asked the camp director where the mysterious funds came from. The director hesitated before admitting that the staff “subsidized” the businesses to avoid discouraging the children. “They’re still learning,” he said. “They don’t need to feel the weight of failure just yet.”

That one line stayed with me.

They don’t need to feel the weight of failure.

But isn’t failure precisely what teaches resilience, humility, and adaptability? Isn’t that part of the very economic system the camp was trying to simulate? In real life, failing to repay a loan has consequences. It forces people to reassess their plans, learn from mistakes, and grow stronger. By cushioning the fall, were they really educating these kids — or just rehearsing a sanitized version of reality?

That’s when it hit me.

The American economy isn’t just an economy of profit. It’s an economy of debt.
People are taught early — whether directly or through systems like BizTown — that progress means borrowing. Need a home? Mortgage. Need education? Student loans. Start a business? Small business loan. And so on. The system encourages borrowing and then glorifies those who can manage to stay afloat within it.

I realized that my own financial philosophy was fundamentally different. In over two decades in the U.S., I’ve only taken out three loans: a mortgage, and two car loans — all repaid early to avoid interest. I’ve lived cautiously, always calculating ahead, saving first, borrowing later — and teaching my son to do the same.

But the world these kids are being prepared for is different. They're taught that loans are a starting point, risk is expected, and failure — when it comes — will be softened.

Is that real education, or are we setting them up for shock when they face the real economy with no invisible hand to bail them out?

I don’t pretend to have the answer. There’s value in encouragement, and no one wants to crush a child’s confidence. But maybe, just maybe, there’s a middle path — where they learn not just how to build a business, but also how to survive when one collapses.

Until then, BizTown remains a fascinating mirror — not just of our economy, but of how much we want to protect our children from the truths that shaped us.
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