Is Universal Cash Distribution a Benefit or a Trap? Understanding National Finance Through "Opportunity Cost"

A Worried Memo from a Father Approaching 40

Recently, I wrote an article that touched on a public policy issue — something quite rare for me to do.

Writing this might get me labeled as someone who “cares about politics.” But having lived nearly 40 years before publicly discussing these issues, I think it’s not because I’ve suddenly become a passionate activist — it’s more like a father’s genuine anxiety about his children’s future.

We all want to give the next generation a better Taiwan, but the future won’t automatically become what we want it to be. If we choose silence and stop thinking critically, we might not even be able to grasp the shadow of the future we want.

I want to start this reflection from a tumultuous episode a few years ago — the “pandemic insurance fiasco.”

What That NT$200,000 I “Missed” Taught Me

Let’s rewind to the days when everyone in Taiwan was scrambling to buy pandemic insurance (epidemic insurance policies that paid out large claims upon a COVID-19 diagnosis).

At the time, I was practically the only “heretic” in the office who refused to buy in. My reasoning was simple, even somewhat cold-blooded: “The essence of insurance is to protect against enormous risks we cannot afford to bear on our own — not to deal with a predictable cold.”

And the story played out with great irony.

Our whole family eventually got COVID one after another. Watching colleagues and friends collect NT$50,000 or NT$100,000 in claims with a single diagnosis certificate, I estimated that our family “missed out” on at least NT$200,000.

“See! I told you we should have bought it!” — that line from my family still echoes in my head.

From a short-term results perspective, my decision was undeniably “stupid.” But what was the long-term cost of that whole debacle? Insurance companies suffered massive losses; health and accident insurance premiums rose across the board. In the end, the cost was borne collectively by all the policyholders who genuinely needed protection.

That circus taught me a profound lesson: short-term gains that seem like a bargain so often come back around in the future, in ways we can’t see, demanding a far steeper price.

And I feel like I’m watching a rerun of this script play out in the debate over “returning taxes to the people” (universal cash distributions from government tax surpluses).

A Family Vacation Fund Story That Explains Opportunity Cost

If public finance feels too complicated, let’s start with a simple family story.

Imagine a large extended family that agrees to contribute 5% of each household’s annual income into a “family vacation fund.” The goal is to take everyone — from grandparents to grandchildren — on a deep-immersion trip to Europe in five years.

This year, because several family members had especially good performance at work and received large bonuses, the fund unexpectedly gained extra “unbudgeted” income.

At this point, one of the elders proposes: “We saved more than expected this year — let’s just give everyone NT$10,000 in spending money to celebrate!”

The family group chat erupts in cheers. Everyone happily uses the windfall to buy a new phone or a new bag, enjoying this unexpected small joy.

Five years later, the travel date arrives. Everyone’s holding economy class tickets, staring at a cramped 7-day itinerary, and it finally hits them — if we hadn’t distributed that NT$10,000 back then, we could have all upgraded to business class and stayed an extra week in Europe.

For a moment of short-term happiness, we missed a once-in-a-lifetime premium memory.

That NT$10,000 that got spent didn’t just eat up future business class seats — it consumed the shared, long-term value that the entire family could have experienced together. That’s the most vivid real-world example of “opportunity cost.”

“Managing Debt” vs. “Managing Wealth” — The Nation’s Multiple-Choice Question

Back to national finance. From a personal financial planning perspective, we all know a basic principle: sometimes, “managing debt” should take far higher priority than “investing” — and even higher than “spending.”

When the government collects a tax surplus (超徵稅收 / excess tax revenues beyond what was budgeted), the meaning of that money shouldn’t be to throw a grand fireworks celebration for everyone. It should first be used to “manage debt” or make more valuable “investments.”

Let’s run a quick calculation:

• Pay down debt: If the government uses NT$230 billion to repay national debt at an interest rate of 2%, it saves nearly NT$4.6 billion in annual interest costs. Year after year, imagine what that money could do.
• Invest it: If that money were channeled into national infrastructure, future industries, or talent development — as long as it generates over 4% annual return — it would deliver over NT$9.2 billion in long-term benefit to the country.

Of course, national finance is far more complex than this simple calculation. But the point of this thought experiment is: distributing cash universally is, practically speaking, the lowest-return option of all available choices when it comes to the future.

The Question We Should Be Asking Is Not “Give Money Back,” But “Where Did the Money Go?”

So the core of the question has never been “should I take back my money.” It’s:

“Where exactly did the government put our extra taxes?”

• If the use is clear: Please be open and transparent with all citizens. Tell us whether the money is going to shore up the wobbling National Health Insurance (NHI, 健保) and Labor Insurance (勞保 / labor pension) deficits, upgrade a critical highway, or make a key investment in a forward-looking industry.
• If the use is unclear: Then what the legislature should really be pushing for is not the shortsighted “legalization of returning tax surpluses to citizens” — but rather a “legalization of how tax surpluses must be used” that actually protects our future.

Distributing the money directly into everyone’s hands is like splitting the family vacation fund into NT$10,000 red envelopes (紅包 / cash gifts). Some will buy a handbag; some will enjoy a feast — but the long-term value that money could have created for “the family as a whole” disappears forever.

The Lazy Takeaway

懶大

金融科技新創 CEO | 獨立財務顧問

I know that discussing public policy issues easily gets you labeled. But as a personal finance blogger, I believe one thing: the wisdom of personal finance is often the common sense of everyday life.

A family that knows how to delay gratification for long-term goals tends to be more prosperous; a nation that knows how to prioritize “managing debt” and “investing in the future” has more hope.

Politics is everyone’s business — it should be possible to discuss rationally and openly. Faith is for settling one’s personal spirit — it deserves respect and privacy.

Let’s all be a little braver, and use the common sense of personal finance to think about our shared future.

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