From Grandmothers to Algorithms: Who Do We Trust with Financial Advice?

In every village, there’s always been someone you could turn to. A grandmother. A shopkeeper. A priest. A neighbor with lived experience and quiet wisdom.

They were never called financial advisors, but they held the knowledge that shaped how we saved, borrowed, traded, and spent. It wasn’t formal. It wasn’t always correct. But it was what we had.

As we navigate our way through the PROFIT project, working to build a gamified digital graphic novel that supports financial literacy for young people, we keep circling back to this question: Who do young people trust today when it comes to money?

It’s tempting to say, “Well, they don’t ask anyone.” But that’s not quite true.

They’re asking. Constantly. They’re just asking YouTube, TikTok, Reddit, and each other.

To understand how we got here, it’s worth tracing the long and winding road of how financial knowledge has been passed down through generations, and where it’s breaking down.

Oral Wisdom and the Currency of Proverbs

In pre-industrial societies, money wasn’t always a central concern, but resource management was. Advice around trade, debt, or seasonal saving was passed down orally through proverbs, stories, and customs.

Sayings like “Don’t spend all your harvest in one season” or “A fool and his money are soon parted” weren’t cute linguistic flourishes. They were memory devices. ways to encode financial behavior into collective wisdom.

The grandmother, in this context, was both moral compass and financial mentor. You learned by watching, listening, and living alongside her. There were no spreadsheets, but there was structure. Embedded in the rhythm of everyday life.

Religion, Morality, and the Ethics of Money

As societies developed, financial advice became increasingly moralized. In Christian, Jewish, and Islamic traditions, scriptures offered guidance on everything from debt forgiveness to fair trade, tithing, and interest rates.

• In the bible, Proverbs 13:11 warns, “Wealth gained hastily will dwindle, but whoever gathers little by little will increase it.”
• Islamic finance prohibits riba (interest), reflecting a belief that lending should be service, not exploitation.

In these frameworks, money was never just a neutral tool. It had ethical weight. Financial behavior wasn’t merely personal, it was communal, even spiritual.

Guilds, Merchants, and the Apprenticeship Economy

As markets evolved, financial learning moved from elders to professions. In medieval Europe, for instance, guilds didn’t just train people to make shoes or bake bread, they taught members how to price goods, manage debt, and pass a business to their children.

In merchant families, ledgers and negotiation were part of the curriculum from childhood. Advice came not from love alone, but from practice. You learned how to handle money because someone needed you to be competent for the family’s survival.

Financial advice was still relational, but increasingly technical. A blend of mentorship and bookkeeping.

The Home Economics Era: Women and the Budgeting Gospel

In the 18th and 19th centuries, financial management returned to the household, but this time with a printed agenda. Domestic manuals, women’s magazines, and early home economics courses framed budgeting as both a moral duty and a feminine virtue.

A good woman, it was said, could stretch her husband’s earnings. She saved up. She planned. She avoided frivolous expenses. Her financial savvy was silent but expected.

This model, though limiting, did serve as a transmission line. Knowledge about saving, debt, and thrift was passed through kitchens, not classrooms.

Financial Literacy Becomes an Institution

Post-World War II, the narrative shifted again. Schools introduced home economics and civics classes. Banks created brochures and animations teaching kids how to save. Governments rolled out financial education programs, some more inclusive than others.

But something changed: authority became institutional. Advice now came from banks, teachers, and pamphlets. It became impersonal, formalized, and, eventually, digital.

The village was fading. The grandmother was fading. In her place: calculators, infographics, and now, content creators.

Today’s “Experts”: From Grandma to the Algorithm

Which brings us to today. When young people want advice about money, they still go to those they trust. The problem is, trust is no longer built around proximity or age. It’s built around relevance, relatability, and reach.

• YouTubers with “rags to riches” stories.
• TikTok creators who make budgeting look aesthetic.
• Influencers in Dubai promising fast wealth.
• Reddit forums where anonymity invites raw honesty.

And yet, none of this is neutral. Financial advice is now tangled in attention economies, product placements, and algorithmic sorting. It’s everywhere, but not always empowering.

Some young people still ask their parents for advice, but many don’t. Some want to, but know they’ll hear, “Just save more,” or “Buy a house as soon as you can”, which, in today’s economy, can feel absurdly out of touch.

Rebuilding the Village, Digitally and Emotionally

So, what do we do?

In the PROFIT project, we’re not trying to replace the village. We’re trying to rebuild it, digitally, but with emotional depth. Our graphic novel doesn’t offer step-by-step financial formulas. It invites young people to follow a character through real-life dilemmas, messy, nonlinear, emotionally charged.

Just like their own.

We believe financial literacy isn’t just about numbers. It’s about identity. Shame. Hope. Peer pressure. Curiosity. And yes, the stomach aches that come when money feels too big to talk about.

The tools may have changed. The messengers may have changed. But the need for guidance, for a trustworthy voice, hasn’t.

The question is: who will answer?