In his recent opinion piece for ABC Online, Pat Seyrak describes his plan to forego home ownership and retire at 35 to a life of frugality and personal fulfilment.

Many Australians, faced with ever-escalating work commitments, will doubtless find this narrative appealing, but I find myself wondering if Pat's idea of independence and freedom from debt is a little simplistic.

As we move through life we continuously accrue and discharge debts, and not all of them appear on the balance sheet.

Knowing nothing of Pat beyond what he mentions in the ABC piece or on his blog, it would be unfair to make assumptions about his past and future life, so for the sake of illustration allow me to introduce my imaginary friend, Frank.

How adult workers help us all

Frank grew up in an average sort of household with an average household income, and as an average kid he benefited from family tax breaks, free health care and education and, when the time came, a heavily subsidised spot at a public university.

All this is as it should be; few in Australian society would argue against the wealth redistribution required to give our youngest citizens the best possible start in life.

The assumption is that Frank, upon graduation, will have a long career paying the income tax which will help fund his retirement and enable society to offer others the same opportunities afforded him.

Unfortunately for society, Frank has other ideas.

By working like a Trojan and living like a monk he is able to invest sufficient funds to retire on $40,000 a year after only one decade in the workforce. He's paid a fair bit of tax in doing so, but that's all over now.

Time passes. Frank moves to North Queensland, meets someone special and has a couple of kids of his own.

Due to his modest income, he's now paying virtually no income tax.

Schools, hospitals, roads ... it all adds up

The kids go to kindergarten, go to school, go to hospital, and society picks up the tab.

When they move away to take up their own subsidised university places they get Austudy and rental assistance, because Frank's income is below the cut-off threshold.

Frank drives on state-funded roads and enjoys the security provided by a state funded police force and judiciary.

He does some volunteer work because he feels he should contribute.

It does not occur to him that he is happily taking everything on offer while reserving the right to decide when, how and what to pay in return.

Eventually Frank, retired for the past 40 years, reaches retirement age.

His modest income means he is eligible for a part pension: only $4,500 a year, but just enough for an annual trip to Bali.

It's worth doing a credit check before putting up your feet, and not just a financial credit check. ( Jo Joyce, ABC Open )

Before retiring, ask yourself some questions

Twenty years later, after an unfortunate illness that has required ongoing care in a public hospital, Frank dies.

He has timed things perfectly; all he leaves behind is an empty bank account and a society ever so slightly diminished in its capacity to meet the aspirations of those who come after him.

Of course, I have no reason to believe that Pat Seyrak shares the blithe sense of entitlement of my notional Frank, but during my years of working in the community services sector I have met many who do, most memorably an accountant who expected Centrelink to assume her mortgage repayments because she had neglected to insure against work-ending illness, and a clerical worker demanding funds to up-skill and move away from a soured workplace romance.

I also know there are many more people who will experience lives of much greater frugality than the one to which Pat aspires, not through choice but due to disability or intergenerational welfare dependence.

I would like to set a challenge for those who work their way early to a point where they need work no more.

Before you walk out the office door for the last time, ask yourself: do I truly have sufficient credit, both ethically and financially, to turn my back on work, or have I funded my early retirement in part by neglecting my obligations to the society that makes my choices possible?

If in all honesty your answer is no to the first part of this question and yes to the second, I suggest it is not yet time to put up your feet.

Geoff Collins has worked for the last 15 years for not-for profit organisations in the community services sector, across employment services and disability services. He currently works for a community development program provider in a remote Indigenous community in the NT.