“The Cost of Living” Doesn’t Mean the Same Thing to Everyone

I have always struggled a little with the phrase “the cost of living”.

It sounds strangely neat for something that bundles housing, food, energy, wages, debt and financial stress into one convenient phrase.

The term itself is not new. Economists and governments were talking about “the cost of living” more than a century ago, and Australia was formally measuring it as far back as 1912.

What has changed is how often we now hear it.

It is in government announcements, election campaigns, news coverage, supermarket advertising and almost every second marketing brief. It has become shorthand for a much bigger economic experience.

And that is where I think the phrase starts to become problematic. Because “the cost of living” is not one experience. It means something completely different depending on whether you are 28 and living with your parents, 36 with children, 60 and wondering how retirement crept up so quickly, or 80 and trying to make your money last.

We may be living in the same economy, but we are not all experiencing it in the same way.

For marketers, that distinction matters.

If we put everyone under a broad cost-conscious consumer banner, we miss the more useful question: What is financial pressure making this particular person prioritise, postpone or protect?

Financial stress is not something most Australians conveniently leave at the supermarket checkout. It follows you down the road, in the car, on the bus and into your home.

It can be there when you wake up at three in the morning thinking about the rent. It can sit quietly behind a conversation about whether you can afford to go out or go on holidays with friends. It can turn a car repair, electricity bill or unexpected medical expense into something that feels enormous.

So when marketers throw around phrases like “the cost-of-living”, we need to remember there is often many different human experiences sitting underneath it.

Sometimes the question is not simply, Can I afford this? It is, Is this worth adding to everything else I am already carrying?

The cost of living means far more than groceries costing more. It can also mean staying at home with your parents longer because moving out does not make financial sense or wondering how you are meant to save for your future while still actually enjoying your life.

Housing is a huge part of that story. By December 2025, Australia’s national median advertised rent had reached a record $650 a week around $33,800 a year. At the same time, the estimated time required to save for a home deposit had climbed to 11.2 years, while a new rental lease consumed around one-third of median household income.

That kind of pressure changes the way people think about the future.

And it is not surprising that money and mental health are appearing together in youth research. Mission Australia’s 2025 Youth Survey found cost of living was the number-one national concern among young respondents at 64%, while mental health was second at 29%. 39% reported stress relating to their mental health and wellbeing, and 19% were experiencing high psychological distress.

But young people have not suddenly stopped wanting a life. They still want to travel, go to gigs, eat out, buy clothes, see friends and experience things. They are simply making those choices within a very different economic environment to the generations before them.

That does not necessarily make them irresponsible with money. It can make them highly selective about where their money goes.

Perhaps one of the worst things a brand can do is lecture younger people about being financially sensible while selling them something they do not actually need.

Show value instead. Be transparent about price. Give people flexibility. And do not assume “value” always means being the cheapest. It can mean quality, longevity, convenience, experience or simply something they genuinely care about.

For many people, this is when life becomes expensive in several directions at once.

There may be rent or a mortgage, childcare, food, insurance, transport, school expenses, medical costs and the endless small payments that come with running a household.

There is also time. Work gets busier. Family responsibilities increase. The mental load expands. And that is where the relationship between money and mental health becomes especially interesting.

Sometimes the problem is not simply that something costs too much. The problem is having to think about the cost of everything.

Can we afford the dentist? Should we postpone the holiday? Do we need to refinance? Who is picking up the kids? What happens if the washing machine dies? Can we afford childcare five days a week?

That constant calculation is exhausting. So while price matters, convenience and certainty can become just as valuable.

A service that saves someone three hours, removes an annoying job or gives them one less thing to organise can still be worth paying for, even when they are otherwise being careful.

Economic pressure does not automatically mean customers want the cheapest option. Sometimes they want breathing room.

Middle age is where the phrase “cost of living” starts meaning something quite different again.

Someone around 50 may have a mortgage. They may be renting. They might be supporting children who cannot afford to leave home while also worrying about parents who are getting older.

Work may still be demanding, but retirement suddenly feels close enough to think about.

Maybe they travelled through their twenties. Maybe they spent money on experiences because there seemed to be plenty of time to deal with property and retirement later. 

Then housing became more expensive, careers became less predictable and everyday expenses kept rising.

There can be a very particular form of stress in looking at your life at 50 and thinking: Wasn’t I supposed to be further ahead by now?

That is not just a financial concern. It can touch confidence, identity and mental wellbeing.

People compare themselves with friends who bought houses earlier. They worry about whether they made the wrong choices. They start calculating how many working years are left.

“Gen X under cost-of-living pressure” is not really an audience insight. It is just a clickbait headline.

For this audience, “cost of living” can actually mean something much deeper: Can I still enjoy my life now and build enough security for later?

This is a far more interesting marketing insight than offering them another generic discount.

Now think about someone in their late seventies or eighties.

One may own their home outright, have savings or investments and appear relatively comfortable. Another may be relying almost entirely on the pension, with very little financial buffer. Both can still feel vulnerable when everyday costs rise, because there is often less opportunity at this stage of life to simply earn more.

Healthcare, insurance, electricity, food, home maintenance and aged care can all take on greater significance. For someone with assets, the concern may be about protecting what they have built and making sure it lasts. For someone with little financial security, the concern may be much more immediate: whether there is enough to cover the basics and remain independent.

The financial question can shift from “How do I get ahead?” to “How do I make sure what I have is enough?”

The Australian Bureau of Statistics even produces a specific Pensioner and Beneficiary Living Cost Index because households relying on pensions and benefits can experience changes in living costs differently from other households.

If you are worried about whether you can afford to maintain your home, your health or your lifestyle, the issue is not simply money. It is also about control.

At the same time, an 80-year-old who has spent decades being careful may be increasingly aware that time is finite. They may decide they want to travel, help their children financially or enjoy more of what they have rather than preserve every dollar.

So even at this stage of life, there can be a real tension between security and enjoyment.

The tension exists at every age. The stakes just change.

Economic pressure does not mean people suddenly become perfectly rational consumers who only purchase essentials.

Sometimes spending itself is emotional. People still want joy. They still want holidays. They still want a great dinner. They still want clothes, music, hobbies, the new couch and things that make a difficult week feel a little better.

Those purchases can be an important factor of wellbeing too.

The difference is that people are making harder choices around them. They might cancel two subscriptions and keep the one they love. Buy furniture second-hand and spend the saving on travel. Cook at home most nights and still go somewhere great for dinner once a fortnight. Delay the hairdresser while paying for a hobby that gives them something to look forward to.

From the outside, that behaviour might look inconsistent.

It is not. It is people deciding what matters.

And that is exactly why demographic data alone will never tell you enough about what someone is likely to buy.

“The cost of living” has become shorthand for almost everything that feels economically difficult. Governments use it. The media uses it. Businesses and marketers use it too.

If someone is financially anxious, give them certainty. If they are overwhelmed, make the process easier. If they are worried about wasting money, show them quality, value and proof. If money is tight, demonstrate why what you offer deserves a place in their budget rather than simply shouting about price.

That is where the useful marketing insight sits.

Not simply: What can this person afford?

But: What are they carrying right now? What are they prioritising, postponing or protecting? And where can our product or service genuinely make their life easier, better or more enjoyable?