They Say They Can Hold U.S. Stocks for 10 Years... So Why Can’t Their Bodies Make It Through a Single Day? [An Adult’s Wrong Answer Notebook]

[Financial News] Tuesday, September 8, 10:30 p.m. The fatigue of the week is beginning to accumulate in earnest, yet the eyes of men in their 40s and 50s grow sharper than ever as an alert announces the opening of the U.S. stock market.
Even when others rush into meme stocks that soar by hundreds of percent overnight, like moths drawn to a flame, these men quietly pore over the financial statements of future-oriented stocks such as Google, Tesla, and SpaceX while waiting for the right time to buy.
Their investment philosophy is ruthlessly strict. No matter how attractive a stock may be, they refuse even to consider fractional-share trading and insist on buying only whole shares. They are also patient enough never to press the currency-exchange button, no matter how badly they want to, unless the won-dollar exchange rate falls below 1,350 won. Within their portfolios, they are more rational and colder value investors than any fund manager on Wall Street.

Benjamin Graham identified a “margin of safety” as the key to successful investing. The idea is to buy stocks at prices far below their intrinsic value, securing enough “room” to prevent bankruptcy if the market suffers an unexpected crash or one’s calculations prove wrong.
On Tuesday nights, we hold our smartphones and calculate this margin of safety obsessively, down to the last won. Because a sudden negative development must never wipe out our accounts, we divide and subdivide the risks, building a perfect defensive barrier.

But the moment we place a buy order and turn off the smartphone screen, a strange and painful contradiction overtakes us. The meticulous investor has vanished, leaving only an exhausted middle-aged man worried about making it to work tomorrow morning.
At work, we squeeze out 120% of our energy to defend ourselves against performance pressures and younger colleagues coming up behind us. After work, we scrape together even the last 0% of our stamina, down to our very souls, to preserve peace within the family. When sudden stress or fatigue comes crashing in, not even 1% of the physical and psychological “room” or “margin of safety” that could protect us remains.
While our stock accounts are being protected safely in accordance with Graham’s philosophy, the life of the actual “me” is being pushed dangerously close each morning to a margin call caused by insufficient collateral—that is, forced liquidation.

Even if an account’s returns continue to rise and the balance in the bank account grows, can it really be called a successful investment if the person who is supposed to enjoy those fruits is drying out like a wiped-out account?
This is not a call to become a selfish father or an irresponsible employee. To avoid dropping out midway through life’s long and grueling long-term investment race, we must set at least a minimal margin of safety for our minds and bodies as well.
On Tuesday night, take your eyes off the red and blue quotes flashing nonstop in the order book for a moment. Then step away from a life in which you pour 100% of yourself into others and allow yourself 20% of room to breathe—room that belongs only to you. Holding on without losing yourself amid harsh realities: that is the greatest and most valuable investment that struggling breadwinners in their 40s and 50s should make.
[email protected] Jeon Sang-il Reporter