Chronicles of Twatrick: Garnishment edition, and fun with math.

It is unlikely that there will be any exciting, breaking news related to Lloydminster's Patrick "Writer Actor Director Author The Whole Fucking Threat" Ross for the next month or two as the Saskatchewan Sheriffs work their way down to our filing in their INBOX, but it behooves us to do the math to see what will happen when my inevitable garnishment order kicks in.

From the current version of Saskatchewan's "Enforcement of Money Judgments Regulations," we can see the effect of garnishment on Patrick's typically meagre income from the string of menial jobs he's had:

So what does this mean in terms of the effect it will have on Lord Baron Twatrick? Well, let's run the numbers.

What is "exempt from seizure" is simply the amount per month that Patrick will be allowed to keep, the rest going to his primary (and only) creditor: me. And how much will be that be?

First, note that there are two alternatives, the exemption amount being the greater of the two choices above, that greater amount being $1,500 when one's income is low. What this means is that no matter how destitute you are and how little you bring home, you get to keep that first $1,500. So if Patrick nets $1,500 or less per month, he gets to keep it all. Every penny. And while that might seem cause for celebration on Patrick's part, it has one ugly consequence: He will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever get out of bankruptcy.

Ever.

If Patrick makes so little every month that his entire take-home pay is exempt from seizure, then he is paying off precisely none of what he owes me, an amount that is now increasing due to accruing interest at just under $500/month. So that's not good for Patrick. But let us continue.

If we imagine Patrick nets, say, $1,600 per month, what happens? Simple: He still gets to keep his $1,500 per month, but must now turn over the surplus $100 to me. Every month. And once again, while Patrick might crow about how this is screwing me over, we once again note that, under this repayment scheme, he will be an undischarged bankrupt for the rest of his life.

$2,000 per month? Easy -- Patrick keeps his $1,500 and I get the remaining $500. And Patrick is barely covering the interest on his debt to me and, again, lifetime undischarged bankrupt. This is not looking good for Lord Baron Twatrick von Loadenhosen, is it? So how does Patrick get out of this?

Well, if you check the formulae above, there is a tipping point where Patrick gets to keep more than $1,500 per month, and that is when 70 per cent of his take-home pay exceeds $1,500, and that happens with a net monthly income of $2,143.00; with that monthly net, Patrick still keeps his $1,500, while I get the remaining $643, and it is at that point where any further monthly income on Patrick's part means he can finally keep a little bit more.

For example, say Patrick (through some miraculous fluke of the universe) finds work where his monthly net is $2,500. At that amount (again, at any amount over $2,143.00), formula a) above is used, which means that Patrick gets to keep 70 per cent of that -- $1,750 -- while I get the remaining $750.

$3,000? Patrick gets to keep $2,100, and I get the surplus $900. And so on, and so on, and so on. So if Patrick nets more, he gets to keep more, while I of course will always get to seize more. But the ugly downside for Patrick here is always waiting in the wings: what he owes me is relentlessly increasing by almost $500 per month, so even if I am collecting from him, unless he gets a spectacularly well-paying gig somewhere, he is barely covering that accruing interest. Oh, and it is worth pointing out that what Patrick is allowed to keep per month covers all possible sources of income for him combined, so there are no loopholes there. Getting multiple jobs will make no difference.

Finally, it's worth mentioning what happens if Patrick has a sudden property-related windfall, such as inherited house or farmland; as you might guess, there is zero chance Patrick would be allowed to keep that.

In the end, given all of the above and Patrick's history of unskilled, low-wage employment, it's almost a certainty that Patrick will be allowed to hang onto $2,000, maybe a bit more per month, depending on how lucky he is in convincing someone to pay him a decent salary. But that means that he will never, ever, ever, ever have any nice stuff. No nice new car, no house of his own ... nothing. At best, Patrick might be able to find a crappy one-bedroom apartment and continue driving his Ford Escape from one menial Northern Alberta contract to the next, all the while watching his employer send a sizable chunk of his paycheque to me month after month, for years to come.

Have I missed anything?

P.S. I have been reliably informed that the automatic $1,500 per month that is exempt from seizure is based on the (reasonable) assumption that a debtor needs a minimal net income to simply survive, which might constitute paying for rent, utilities, food, vehicle upkeep and so on. But I have also been informed that, in unusual circumstances, it is possible to petition the court to lower that exemption if it can be shown that a debtor does not have those typical expenses. That is, by arguing that Patrick lives at home and contributes nothing to household expenses, the Court can be convinced to let him keep only, say, $500 per month. (And handing to the Court photographic evidence of his eating habits showing a regular diet of $21 restaurant burgers is not going to help his case.)

It's an interesting possibility and I'll keep it in mind, but I'm not going to obsess over it.