Ask Australians whether they're comfortable talking about money and most will say yes. We did, in thirty one-to-one interviews over late July and early August. Many told us they talk openly with their partner, that nothing is off limits, and that keeping quiet has cost them nothing.
Then we asked the next question.
This piece covers what came out of those interviews: what people will say about money, what they won't, and what they'd want from their bank.
1. The score says nothing. The story says otherwise.
Near the end of each interview, people rated how much not talking about money had cost them, from 1 (nothing at all) to 10 (a great deal). Plenty chose 1.
But the rating didn't match what they'd said earlier.
A retired woman who scored it 1 had lent money to friends and never got it back. She and her husband have been trying for years to decide who inherits their assets. When it comes up, "we go round in circles and give up."
A man in his sixties who scored it 1 described his partner's debt as the conversation they keep not having. What happens when it nearly comes up: "Denial." What's the conversation: "She won't say."
People who could see the cost rated it high. A younger father who scored it 8 explained why he never told anyone about the debt he'd got into:
"how I got in debt was all due to a dumb mistake I did years ago and was to ashamed to share and get help because I thought I didn't want to burden people and now I'm in knees deep"
The pattern matters beyond this topic. A rating tells you how people describe themselves. The follow-up tells you what happened. On a sensitive subject the two can point in opposite directions, and the rating is the easier one to take at face value.
2. People will talk about money. They won't say the number.
Money in general wasn't the taboo. Budgets, the cost of living and retirement plans all came up freely. The line was drawn at the figure.
Asked what they'd never raise with the people around them, the answers were specific: "Exact numbers." "How much I earn or how much I have in savings." "Wages." "I don't bring up how much we earn or if our investments are doing well."
The reasons were social, not private. People didn't mind the topic. They minded what a number would do to a friendship: envy, comparison, unsolicited advice. As one put it: "Jealousy and envy from friends bring negative energy."
3. The embarrassment runs both ways
We asked which of several things felt hardest to admit out loud. Debt and not understanding financial products were chosen, as you'd expect. So were both earning less than people think and earning more than people think.
"We are quite good with money so people think we are wealthier than we are," said one. Another, on the opposite side: "People think I am lucky, but I work hard for my money."
The silence isn't only about hiding hardship. It's about hiding any number that would change how you're seen, in either direction.
4. The conversation couples keep circling
Couples often said they discuss everything, then named the one topic they don't. When one partner should retire. What happens to the assets. How much one of them spends on things the other wouldn't. One woman described the partner conversation as going on "until we are both exhausted. To try again soon."
These aren't failures to communicate about money in general. They're specific, recurring conversations with no natural moment to have them, and nobody whose job it is to start them.
5. What people want from their bank: a name, not a nudge
Asked how they'd feel if their bank noticed them avoiding a money problem, people drew a clear line. Being "lectured to by someone who isn't qualified," being pushed products, or a bank commenting on their transactions ("it may feel like they're watching") was unwelcome. An "open invite with no pressure," options they could choose "if and when we want to," or a warm letter with suggested next steps was welcome.
The strongest thread was about who rather than what. "I would prefer to know who specifically to ask at my bank." "They are just employees. No longer the personal touch." Several wanted a one-to-one conversation with someone who would recognise them next time.
Not everyone agreed. One respondent said a digital tool appealed precisely because they could speak to "someone" that wouldn't judge them. For people carrying the embarrassment described above, that may matter more than the human touch does.
How we ran it, and what it can't tell you
The study was thirty one-to-one interviews with Australians across a mix of banks and life stages. They were run by Redge's AI interviewer from a researcher-written guide. The questions were set in advance; the follow-ups were generated for each person from what they'd just said, within probe briefs written before fieldwork. That AI probing is where most of the findings above came from: the second and third questions, not the first.
37 interviews were completed. Seven were removed at quality check, leaving 30. Verbatims are quoted as typed.
It's qualitative work, so we haven't reported percentages. With thirty people, a percentage suggests a precision the sample can't support. What the study shows is a set of patterns worth testing at scale, not their size.
Not every respondent welcomed the probing, either. One told the interviewer it seemed to think they had a problem talking about money when they didn't. Another said it kept asking the same question in different ways. Both are fair criticisms. Probing on a sensitive topic has a cost: it lengthens the interview, and it can feel like pressure. We kept those answers in, because a write-up that only shows the probes that worked isn't telling you the whole story.
Researching something people find hard to say? Book a walkthrough and we'll show you how the interviewer's follow-ups are written and checked.