AJ Digital Marketing

Directions Website Contact the business

AJ Digital Marketing I help people in their 40s and 50s, Gen X-ers build a digital side hustle from scratch. Something you can learn in the evenings and turn into real extra income.

To stop depending on a pension that might not be enough.

There’s something about Britain’s retirement system that I’ve been thinking about recently, and the more I’ve looked int...
26/10/2026

There’s something about Britain’s retirement system that I’ve been thinking about recently, and the more I’ve looked into it, the more I’ve wondered whether we’re having the wrong bloody conversation.

We’re constantly being told that people are living longer, so naturally, we’re going to have to work longer. On paper, I can understand the argument. People are collecting their pensions for longer, the population is ageing, and somebody has to work out how the country is going to afford it all.

But there’s one rather inconvenient detail that seems to get overlooked whenever retirement ages are discussed.

Not everybody earns their living sitting behind a desk.

I’ve spent a considerable part of my working life doing physically demanding jobs. I’ve worked in plastering, industrial roofing, cleaning, and eventually spent years running my own cleaning business. I’ve been up ridiculously early, worked long days and done jobs where you’re absolutely knackered before you’ve even thought about going home.

And anyone who’s spent years working in the trades will understand something that doesn’t always appear in a government report.

Your body remembers the work.

The years spent lifting, bending, kneeling, climbing, carrying equipment and putting physical strain on yourself don’t simply disappear because you’ve finished paying the mortgage or celebrated another birthday.

Now, I’m not suggesting everyone who’s worked in construction is falling apart by 60. I’ve known blokes older than me who could probably still outwork people half their age. Equally, plenty of office workers develop serious health problems.

But surely we can acknowledge that spending 40 years working on building sites is physically different from spending 40 years in an office?

And surely that difference deserves some consideration when we’re discussing how long people should be expected to keep working.

Because here’s where things get interesting.

The UK State Pension age has already started increasing from 66 to 67. The change began in April 2026 and will be completed by April 2028. Under current legislation, another increase to 68 is scheduled between 2044 and 2046.

That’s the timetable.

But here’s what bothers me about it.

According to the Office for National Statistics, healthy life expectancy in the UK for 2022–2024 was just 60.7 years for men and 60.9 years for women.

Now, that doesn’t mean everybody suddenly becomes ill on their 61st birthday. Healthy life expectancy is a statistical measure of how many years people can expect to spend in good general health, not a prediction of when they become incapable of working.

Nevertheless, when we’re talking about people potentially working until 67 or 68, it’s a statistic worth paying attention to.

And it gets more uncomfortable.

The Health and Safety Executive reported that approximately 511,000 workers in Great Britain were suffering from work-related musculoskeletal disorders in 2024–25.

We’re talking about conditions affecting people’s backs, joints, muscles and limbs. Construction workers and people in skilled trades were among the occupational groups reporting higher rates than average.

That’s hundreds of thousands of people experiencing the physical consequences of work, while the country continues discussing retirement largely in terms of birthdays and financial calculations.

But perhaps the most interesting figure I discovered came from a House of Commons Work and Pensions Committee report published in July 2026.

It found that 57% of people were no longer in paid work in the year before reaching State Pension age.

Think about that for a moment.

More than half weren’t working during that final year.

Now, some will have retired comfortably because they’ve saved enough money. Some will have private pensions. Some will have decided they’d simply had enough.

But others will have left because of poor health, disability, caring responsibilities or difficulty finding employment.

And that raises a question I don’t think we ask often enough.

What happens to somebody whose body has had enough of physical work at 61, but whose State Pension doesn’t arrive until 67?

What are they supposed to do for those six years?

Find another job? Fair enough, but what sort of job?

Imagine somebody who’s spent 40 years roofing, bricklaying or labouring. Perhaps their back has finally decided it’s had enough. Perhaps their knees are causing them problems. Perhaps they simply can’t manage the physical demands they once could.

We can tell them to retrain, and in some cases that will be a perfectly sensible solution.

But retrain to do what? Who’s employing them? How do they pay the bills while learning something new? And what happens if their health makes even less demanding work difficult?

These aren’t arguments against learning new skills. Far from it. They’re questions about whether the opportunities we’re telling people to pursue actually exist for everybody.

And for those who can’t continue working, there’s another uncomfortable reality.

The mortgage or rent doesn’t disappear because your back is knackered. Neither do the electricity bills, council tax or weekly shopping.

You still need somewhere to live. You still need to eat. And you still have years to get through before your State Pension becomes available.

Now, before somebody jumps into the comments, I’m not suggesting we simply reduce the pension age for everybody without considering how we’d pay for it.

That would be a lovely idea until somebody presented the bill.

There are genuine financial pressures involved in supporting an ageing population, and governments have to consider those pressures. We cannot pretend the money is unlimited or that every difficult decision has a painless alternative.

But acknowledging the financial problem doesn’t mean we should ignore the human one.

In fact, only two days ago, on 22 October, the Government’s response to that parliamentary investigation was published.

The committee had recommended looking at additional financial support for people unable to continue working before reaching State Pension age.

The Government acknowledged the difficulties but said a broader range of options needed consideration, particularly alongside its ongoing pension-age review. It also pointed to existing benefits and employment support.

In other words, the problem is recognised. The argument about what should be done remains unresolved.

And that’s where I think we need a more sensible national conversation.

Perhaps we should be discussing better support for older people who can no longer do physically demanding work. Perhaps employers should be offering more opportunities to move into less strenuous roles. Perhaps retraining should become a serious option much earlier in someone’s career, rather than something suggested when they’re already struggling.

And perhaps we need to stop treating retirement as though everybody arrives at it in roughly the same condition.

Because they don’t.

Someone who’s spent decades working at height, shifting heavy materials or cleaning buildings might arrive at 65 with completely different physical limitations from somebody who’s had a less demanding career.

That doesn’t make one person’s contribution more valuable than the other’s. It simply means their circumstances aren’t identical.

I’m not against people working longer if they’re healthy, willing and able. There are plenty of people who enjoy their jobs and have absolutely no intention of stopping at 67.

Good luck to them.

But there’s a considerable difference between choosing to work longer because you want to and being forced to carry on because you cannot afford to stop.

And perhaps that’s the distinction we should be concentrating on.

After spending years working with my hands, I’ve come to appreciate just how much we take our ability to earn a living for granted. We plan our finances around the assumption that we’ll keep doing what we’ve always done, sometimes without considering what happens if we physically can’t.

Of course, people should take responsibility for their financial futures wherever possible. Saving, planning and developing other skills can make a difference.

But personal responsibility has its limits, particularly when somebody has spent a lifetime working hard without ever earning enough to build substantial savings.

We shouldn’t dismiss their circumstances as poor planning any more than we should pretend the government can solve every financial problem.

There has to be some common sense somewhere in the middle.

Because retirement shouldn’t become a competition to see how much punishment somebody’s body can take before they’re finally allowed to stop.

And if we’re going to keep increasing the age at which people receive their State Pension, perhaps we ought to spend just as much time discussing what happens to the people who cannot physically make it that far.

After all, telling somebody they have to work until 67 is one thing. Making sure they’re actually capable of doing it is another entirely.

Apparently, the secret to successful digital marketing is crying on camera, inventing imaginary course spaces and trusti...
25/10/2026

Apparently, the secret to successful digital marketing is crying on camera, inventing imaginary course spaces and trusting a process nobody’s bothered to explain.

Welcome to Part 2 of digital marketing advice that makes me want to throw my phone through the fu***ng window.

I genuinely wish I was making some of this up.

I’ve heard supposed experts tell complete beginners to fake emotional breakdowns for engagement, copy other people’s content without understanding it and pressure customers into buying courses by pretending they’re about to sell out.

And then we wonder why so many people are sceptical about making money online.

Here’s the thing.

Digital marketing isn’t the problem. Neither is affiliate marketing, selling digital products or creating online courses.

The problem is people making something that’s already difficult to learn even more confusing by promising shortcuts, instant success and results without the necessary skills.

Yes, you can start an online business with a phone and Wi-Fi. But you’ll still need to understand marketing, sales, communication and how to create something people actually find valuable.

Yes, you can learn from successful creators. But copying what they do without understanding why it works won’t magically produce the same results.

And yes, sometimes you need patience. But telling somebody who’s struggling to simply “trust the process” without offering any actual guidance is about as useful as Ann Franks drum kit!!

If you’re new to digital marketing, please understand something.

You don’t need to believe everything somebody says just because they’ve got a big following, a flashy income screenshot or the word “mentor” in their bio.

Ask questions. Challenge promises. Learn the skills. And never let somebody pressure you into spending money you can’t afford.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to build a better life through an online business.

Just be careful who you’re listening to along the way.

Right, your turn. What’s the worst advice you’ve ever heard from a digital marketing ‘expert’?

I’ve got a feeling the comments could be entertaining.

18/10/2026

The goal was never just “make money online.”

The goal was having options.

The option to leave a job you fu***ng hate.

The option to work from somewhere other than the same desk, van, warehouse or building site.

The option to take a Tuesday afternoon off without asking someone for permission.

The option to build products and systems that can still make sales when you’re not physically working every minute.

That’s what interested me.

Not Lamborghinis.

Not “£10k in 30 days.”

Control.

I spent years earning money by swapping hours of my life for it.

Learning digital marketing taught me another way.

It didn’t happen overnight.

I had to learn how to create content, market, sell and actually stick with something long enough for it to work. But eventually it gave me something far more valuable than another wage.

Choice.

If that’s what you’re looking for too, comment 69 and I’ll point you in the right direction.

And yes, I chose 69 because apparently I’m still 14 years old.

17/10/2026

If I told you that you only need £320 to start an online business would you take the chance to start?

In March 2024 I took that chance and within 7 months I had earned more money from selling digital products than I did running a cleaning business for a year.

Now I’m not going to say that’ll you do the same but if you don’t give a try then how will you ever know?

Life is a game and you’re supposed to have fun playing it. Stop working for people you don’t like, to buy s**t you don’t need, to impress people you hate.

Come join me in SWC, learn how to make money online and start playing the game with a cheat code.

Link is in my bio

07/10/2026

Welcome back to the Digital Marketing Bulls**t Hotline.

Today’s caller has been told:

“You don’t need to buy a digital marketing course.”

Sounds sensible enough.

Until the next sentence is:

“Just buy my starter kit instead and I’ll show you how to make £10,000 a month.”

Funny how that works.

Apparently courses teach you nothing, but an 11-page PDF suddenly contains the secrets of the universe.

Here’s the bit I actually care about:

If you want to learn digital marketing, buy education based on what it genuinely teaches you.

Not because somebody has convinced you that every other option is s**t.

Know what you want to learn. Know what’s included. Know what support you get. Know whether it fits what you’re actually trying to build.

And don’t assume you need expensive mentoring on day one either.

Sometimes you just need proper education, a clear path and somewhere to ask questions when you get stuck.

For full disclosure, I’m an affiliate for SWC.

I promote it because I’ve taken it myself, used what I learned and built my 6 figure business with it.

And if you want to see exactly what’s inside before spending anything, I can send you the free video tour.

DM me SWC and I’ll send it over.

Another case closed at the Digital Marketing Bulls**t Hotline.

WHEN HAVING A JOB ISN’T ENOUGH ANYMOREImagine having to quit your job because you can no longer afford to get to it.Read...
07/10/2026

WHEN HAVING A JOB ISN’T ENOUGH ANYMORE

Imagine having to quit your job because you can no longer afford to get to it.

Read that sentence again, because it sounds fu***ng ridiculous.

Not because you’ve been sacked. Not because you’ve decided you don’t fancy working anymore. Not because you’ve sold everything, bought a campervan and decided to spend the next twelve months “finding yourself” somewhere outside Glastonbury.

You’ve got a job.

You just can’t afford the increasingly expensive privilege of getting yourself there every day.

And before somebody inevitably pops up with “well, get a job closer to home then”, that’s not really the point, is it? Because this isn’t just about the price of diesel. It’s about something much bigger that’s been creeping up on millions of working people for years.

Working hard isn’t stretching as far as it used to.

I don’t think that’s particularly controversial anymore. You don’t need an economist to explain it to you because you’ve probably conducted the experiment yourself in Tesco. You walk in with a hundred quid and somehow leave with three bags of shopping, a packet of chicken, some washing powder and the vague suspicion you’ve been mugged.

But the numbers behind that feeling are pretty fu***ng extraordinary.

According to the Office for National Statistics, household costs for non-retired households have risen 33.2% in just five years. Households with children have experienced exactly the same cumulative increase.

Thirty-three fu***ng percent.

Think about your own income five years ago. Has that gone up by a third?

For millions of people, the answer is obviously no.

And even when the number on your payslip does increase, there’s another little trick happening quietly in the background. The standard tax-free Personal Allowance is still £12,570. It has been sitting there since 2021, and legislation now keeps it at that level until April 2031.

So you can get a pay rise, feel briefly pleased with yourself, and then discover that everything else has gone up as well and more of your income is being dragged into tax.

Your payslip gets bigger. Your life doesn’t necessarily get richer.

That’s the bit I think we’re not talking about enough.

I’m Gen X. Most of us were brought up with a pretty simple financial instruction manual. Get yourself a decent job. Work hard. Don’t take the p**s. Do some overtime if you need a few extra quid. Get promoted if you can. Pay your mortgage. Put something into a pension. Don’t s***k everything up the wall and, generally speaking, you’ll be alright.

And to be fair, for a long time that wasn’t terrible advice.

I remember my dad driving a taxi a couple of nights a week because we were going to Florida for Christmas and New Year in 1992 for the first time. He wanted some extra money, so he did some extra work. There was a fairly obvious relationship between the two.

Need more money → work a bit more → have more money.

I’m not pretending everything was easy in the 80s and 90s. It fu***ng wasn’t. Mortgage rates were brutal at times, recessions happened, people lost jobs and plenty of families struggled.

But there was something psychologically different about knowing that a bit more graft could genuinely move the needle.

Now we’ve somehow arrived at a place where people can work full-time, do overtime, get their annual pay rise and still wonder why there isn’t much more left at the end of the month.

The problem isn’t necessarily that they’re earning less.

It’s that their money is buying less.

And once you understand that distinction, something else becomes uncomfortable.

For our generation, having a job was supposed to be the safe option.

But how safe is your financial life when almost all of it depends on one employer depositing one amount of money into one bank account once a month?

Because that’s what most of us have built.

One salary.

One employer.

One annual pay review.

One main source of income holding up the mortgage or rent, food, electricity, heating, car, insurance, council tax, kids, holidays, Christmas, pension and everything else life decides to chuck through the letterbox.

We call that security.

I’m beginning to wonder if dependence might be a better word.

And no, before anybody gets carried away, I’m not saying everyone should march into work tomorrow, tell Derek from Accounts to shove his spreadsheet up his arse and announce that they’re becoming a digital entrepreneur.

Please don’t do that.

I’m saying something much less exciting and, I think, much more important.

Maybe having one income isn’t enough anymore.

Not because you need to become rich. Not because you need a Lamborghini. Not because some 23-year-old on Instagram says you need seven income streams before breakfast.

Maybe you simply need another £200.

Or £500.

Maybe eventually £1,000.

Maybe you just need something that belongs to you.

Something that doesn’t depend on your boss deciding whether you’ve earned 3% more this year. Something you can build around the job you’ve already got. Something that starts small enough that it doesn’t require you to gamble the roof over your family’s head.

That’s what changed for me.

When I first started learning digital marketing, I wasn’t some tech wizard who had secretly spent twenty years studying algorithms in a darkened bedroom. I ran a cleaning business. Before that I’d plastered walls and worked on industrial roofs.

I learned.

I learned how content worked. I learned how to market things online. I learned how people sold digital products. I learned how attention became trust and how trust could eventually become a sale.

And at first, it wasn’t replacing anything.

It was simply another option.

That’s the bit the internet-money industry has completely fu**ed up, in my opinion. It became obsessed with selling people the fantasy of escape: quit your job, sack your boss, make ten grand next month, work two hours a day from a beach.

Bo****ks.

Forget escaping for a minute.

Build redundancy.

If one income stops, there’s another one.

If your employer says there’s no pay rise this year, you haven’t handed them complete control over whether your income grows.

If petrol goes up, food goes up, electricity goes up or another bill arrives with the cheerful little email telling you “we’re making changes to your price”, your only option isn’t checking the bank balance and wondering what else you can cut.

And that’s why I think learning how money is actually made online is becoming less of a weird little side interest and more of a genuinely useful modern skill.

Learn how to create content.

Learn how to market.

Learn how to sell a digital product.

Learn how affiliate marketing works.

Learn how to package something you already know into something another person would pay for.

Learn how to use the bloody internet for something other than watching strangers argue in Facebook comments.

You don’t have to become an influencer. You don’t need 100,000 followers. You certainly don’t need to start dancing on TikTok. Nobody needs to see that. Your children have suffered enough.

You just need to become useful to the right people and learn how to turn that usefulness into income.

And here’s the part I wish somebody had explained to me years ago.

Your first goal doesn’t need to be £10,000 a month.

Make £10.

Seriously.

Make ten quid from something that didn’t come from an employer.

Because the amount is almost irrelevant.

What you’ve actually proved is enormous.

You’ve proved that your salary isn’t the only place money can come from.

Then make £100.

Then see if you can do it again.

That’s how something stops being an idea and starts becoming an option.

And options matter, because I don’t know what Britain will look like in five years. Neither do you. Nobody does. I don’t know what fuel will cost, what food will cost, what jobs AI will change, what another geopolitical crisis will do to energy prices or what other financial kick in the bo****ks is waiting around the corner.

But that’s exactly the point.

If the future is uncertain, surely becoming less dependent on one source of income makes more sense, not less.

This isn’t doom and gloom. I’m actually arguing the opposite.

You have access to something our parents couldn’t have imagined.

A device in your pocket that can put your knowledge, skills, experience or products in front of somebody on the other side of the country — or the other side of the planet — for practically nothing.

You can learn skills from your kitchen table that twenty years ago would have required a degree, an agency or thousands of pounds.

You can build something after work.

Slowly.

Badly at first.

Quietly if you want.

But you can build it.

And maybe it never replaces your job.

Fine.

Maybe it pays for the food shopping.

Maybe it covers the mortgage.

Maybe it becomes your holiday money.

Maybe it gives you the confidence to drop a day at work.

Or maybe, like it eventually did for me, that little second income grows until one day you realise it’s become your first.

But none of that happens while you’re waiting for the world to become cheaper again.

And that’s the thought I keep coming back to.

For years we’ve been asking whether starting something else is too risky.

Whether we’ve got enough time.

Whether we’re too old.

Whether we understand technology.

Whether making money online is actually possible for ordinary people.

All perfectly reasonable questions.

But when the supposedly safe option is leaving millions of hardworking people feeling poorer despite doing everything they were told to do, perhaps we’ve been measuring risk the wrong way round.

I’m not telling you to quit your job.

I’m asking whether, in 2026, depending entirely on one is still as safe as we were taught it was.

Because maybe the question isn’t:

“Can I afford to start something online?”

Maybe it’s:

“How much longer can I afford not to?”

Address

Gosberton
Lancing

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when AJ Digital Marketing posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Business

Send a message to AJ Digital Marketing:

Shortcuts

Share