Poverty is a complex issue, shaped by geography, gender, etc. What I’m offering is a method that helped me steadily raise my hourly rate, and I believe it can work whether you’re a poor kid in India or a wealthy girl in Switzerland. Your starting point *will* affect the difficulty, but the method is designed as a flexible framework: no matter the input, it should help you drive growth.
Gravity
Poverty is a force that pulls you down. To understand how to escape it, we need to understand gravity. Specifically, these two ideas:
Escape velocity: the minimum speed an object needs to completely break free from the gravitational pull of another body. For example, when a satellite wants to leave Earth and head into deep space, it must reach a speed (11.2 kilometers per second) that Earth’s gravity can no longer pull it back. Escape velocity depends on two main factors:
Pulling Body Mass: This is the mass of the object doing the pulling, like a planet, star, or black hole. It controls how strong the gravity is.
Distance From Pulling Body: This is how far the escaping body is from the center of the pulling body. Closer = stronger gravity.
2. Orbital Maneuver: An orbit is the stable path an object follows around a larger body due to gravity, like a planet circling a star or a satellite looping around Earth. An orbital maneuver is when an object changes its speed or direction to shift into a new path. This could mean moving to a higher orbit (gaining altitude) or even escaping entirely. It doesn’t take massive energy — just a well-timed push.
The Escape Plan
You’ve learned how to escape gravity, so you also understand how to escape poverty. Let’s connect the dots looking backwards (thanks, Steve). Like a satellite, we need enough energy and momentum to break free from our current orbit and reach a higher one. The closer you are to the source of gravity (the deeper you are in poverty), the more energy it takes to escape. If you’re a single mother with three kids, you’re closer to that gravitational pull — it’ll take more time and effort. We’ll do that in 3 steps (every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts).
Part 1: Take an Energy Debt
We need energy to escape our orbit. But how do you make more energy than what you already have? How do you go beyond 100%?
You probably know the feeling: I’m drowning in work and barely have a second to breathe. So how the hell am I supposed to find more energy in a day? That’s what I call taking on energy debt. You borrow energy from other parts of your life — sleep, relationships, your health — to leverage it toward an escape plan. Just like in finance: you believe in a stock but don’t have the capital, so you borrow to invest, betting it’ll pay off later.
You do that by saving money or time. The poorer you are, the more you should optimize for saving time. That means adjusting your schedule, shifting priorities, living cheaper, or even relocating to lower your cost of living. Start small — find tiny pockets of unused energy in your day. When you’re poor, you don’t have credit to ‘buy back’ time or energy, so you have to be sharp. For me, I took a “living comfortably” debt. Once you figure out how to reclaim even five minutes a day, that’s your for in the door.
Part 2: Create Momentum
Now you’ve got extra energy — this is your golden way out. Focus on these energy airbags. Stack them to create moments of flow. Use them to study a new skill — something in high demand, that pays way more than what you’re making now — and start applying for jobs, or take jobs. You want to be in the business that does business, not in the business of talking about it. Be bold. Be selfish. Move fast. Don’t wait for validation, start selling as soon as you feel that you get the big picture.
If you’re really poor, your first orbit change won’t be launching a business or becoming a software engineer — it might be something with a lower barrier to entry, like design. All that matters is moving up the ladder. The higher you climb, the weaker poverty’s pull — and the easier it is to break into the next orbit. Your job is to generate enough force to break free from your current orbit. The more focused and efficient you are in those small windows of energy, the faster you build real momentum.
Part 3: Escape
Then, when the opportunity comes, burst. Take the risk, and use the energy. Take a leap of faith. If it fails, return to your old orbit, keep stacking knowledge, and wait for the next window.
There’s a powerful technique we can borrow from satellite mechanics: timing the burn. Satellites get their biggest boost when they fire their engines at the lowest point in orbit, closest to Earth, where gravity pulls the hardest and speed is highest. It’s like a roller coaster accelerating downhill.
The same idea applies here: use the gravity of poverty as fuel. When you’re broke, exhausted, and cornered — that’s your lowest point. That’s when you time the burn. Armed with the leverage you’ve gained and the lessons from energy debt, and fueled by the anger of your situation, pressure builds.
You don’t launch despite gravity — you launch because of it.
It sounds counterintuitive, but that’s the math if gravity = poverty.
Final Thoughts
Breaking free from poverty’s gravitational pull isn’t about one heroic leap — it’s about strategic orbital maneuvers executed consistently over time. Each small win puts you in a slightly higher orbit, where the pull is slightly weaker, and your next move requires slightly less energy.
Disclaimers
Real poverty: Escape velocity is not a daily reality for most people. In life, unlike space, there are constant pulls back — racism, illness, legal systems, etc. Poverty isn’t just gravity — it’s a black hole.
Energy debt can be dangerous: Romanticizing burnout as a strategy is a red flag. Borrowing sleep, health, and relationships as “fuel” works briefly, but it can break people long term.
Self-agency: The framework is heavily individualistic. It assumes you control your own time and choices, which many in deep poverty simply don’t.
Poverty - I don't think I am qualified to comment deeper, as I've never experienced it. I think. I would define poverty, as "I someteimes skip meals, so someone else can have one". Some of my elder relatives experienced poverty. One way to tell is that they would never throw away food, and they would get emotional about it if food went spoilt.
Getting out of that is tough. An empathetic person is doubly cursed, as they may waste their own escape momentum to keep others literaly alive. This is probably deep poverty. I am unsure you meant that or you meant "poor" instead of "poverty".
Would I be prepared to take care of myself, but possibly leave others at risk of perishing while I am gathering escape momentum? If I commit to helping myself first, would I forgive myself? How would I redeem myself later when I have escaped my situation?
We are quickly getting into religious, ethical and psychological ground here.