In this book Deborah James' focus is on indebtedness in South Africa, primarily about African people, or blacks. It is argued that, what she terms ‘credit apartheid’ denied black people access to credit in the past and has, since 1994, opened access to credit to the formerly ‘unbanked’. These politically driven agendas resulted in reckless credit extension to people uneducated to manage it – ordinary people and a newly emerging ‘black diamond’ class (the term coined to refer to the new spending able black salaried consumer entity). This sudden access to credit resulted in the unwise accumulation of debt to levels threatening to suffocate those who had ‘fallen into that trap’. The book takes the reader through fascinating journeys of successful upwardly mobile black people, who were educated through the thrift of their parents (usually mothers) and finally secured good employment. The new black economic empowerment policies were instrumental in securing access, opportunity and status to black diamonds. The book also tells stories of black people who failed to use opportunities wisely and entered into the ‘debt trap’. Many reasons are offered for this: social pressure due to expectations of a better life, traditional ‘cultural’ practices with financial implications, ‘reckless lending’ by money-lenders, excessive offers of retail credit through ‘store cards’, social pressure to compete with friends/neighbours, etc. The justification offered is that people were historically disadvantaged, formerly being denied these by the ‘structural violence’ of apartheid.

Chapter 1 offers interesting interviews with members of the new middle class, most of whom are women – some who use debt (or credit) wisely, while others live beyond their means, leading to crippling debt. Chapter 2 investigates the state's intervention by means of the National Credit Act (NCA), 2006, to curb the ‘outright preying on the vulnerabilities of low income and working people’ (p. 64). This statutory intervention James describes as ‘quintessentially South African’ (p. 89), and leading to a contradiction of opening the market, only to close it again through the regulation of credit providers, consumers taking up such credit and counselling those in debt. The fruits of market liberalisation called for state regulation, but the NCA fails in its goal.

In the next chapter the author returns in time and theme, discussing the habits of borrowing, credit and debt in South Africa. It is argued that the geographic land separation and later state support for the development of the commercial white agricultural sector, indirectly left blacks without land and forced them into wage labour. Cash shortages led to borrowing from traders or store-keepers especially from furniture stores. It was incorrectly assumed that blacks could not get credit, but after 1994 this ‘credit apartheid’ was addressed by banking the unbanked. Soon wages and pension payments were made into bank accounts, thereby issuing a growing number of blacks with bank accounts. The use of bank credit was less frequent than the reliance on high interest charging money-lenders offering credit without security, which the banks required. This often led to accumulated borrowing until the borrower could no longer service the debt. The individual stories of borrowing, repayment and personal distress or feelings on entrapment are explained as the consequence of ‘credit apartheid’ – why were only certain borrowers trapped and others not? Apart from the contradiction of regulating a liberalised market, the other anomaly of the 20th century is the persistence of stokvels, or the African version of rotating savings and credit associations (ROSCAS). This is a form of traditional money management discipline. The focus then shifts to more generic stories of growing indebtedness of whites and blacks in South Africa exacerbated by the knock-on effects of the global financial crisis. Here the ‘roots of credit apartheid’ no longer holds – consumption patterns, social ambitions and unsubstantiated drives for status and competition tied many South Africans to debt. These stories are no different from other parts of the world – aspirations, insufficient means, borrowing from all offering credit and finally deeper into a hole. This has nothing to do with any former political dispensation of South Africa.

Considering the aspect of private property, housing, James drags in ‘credit apartheid’ again: having been denied property ownership in the past, or being moved forcefully, after 1994 real estate ownership was ‘at the basis of an integrated system of market relations and economic growth’ (p. 174). The aspirations of home-ownership was not an unmixed blessing: mortgage liability unsettled newly acquired spending habits and led to financial distress and repossession. Here traditional cultural traits prevented the transition to the free market in urban property. In the long run adjustment to property ownership led to default, repossession and subsequent regulatory action by the state to protect the vulnerable and the poor. In the De Soto frame of explanation, successful property ownership secured the owners' access to credit, but James argues that this was less the case in rural-based locations, such as her fieldwork site Impalashoek in Mpumalanga province. The entrepreneurial ones such as Phemelo Ngcobo, who exchanged automobiles for investments in private property, emerged as wealthy and progressive. The distinction lay in the transition from traditional culture to the opportunities of the market, which is a journey many people in developing countries made. The stronger and earlier more comprehensive integration of African people in South Africa into capitalism, was, as James acknowledges, compromised by aspects of tradition, culture and the retention of the authority of traditional leaders.

James writes about high indebtedness primarily in the black community. There is now more emphasis on educating the indebted about taking control of their money matters. There is a new emphasis on religion, a return to mutuality and support of the less-well off, as well as a sense of taking responsibility. The notion that it was not as much the market that brought about the emergence of the black middle class, but the state, is a strong message of the book. Black entrepreneurs who stress responsibility, sustainability and control of one's money, shows the black middle class taking control of financial matters. James mentions a number of new publications by successful black entrepreneurs engaged in educating their fellow rising stars on financial management, their rights and responsibilities and the path to financial independence and success.

James makes a valuable contribution to the literature on the highly indebted South African society in the period after 1990. But the contribution is clouded by the emphasis only on blacks and the attempt at infusing life into the lame duck argument of ‘apartheid’ causality. The dilemma in blaming so-called ‘credit apartheid’ is the anomaly created by focusing on numerous frugal black people, prudent savers and modest ordinary hard-working people, who made an honest living and sent their children to school to be educated. Numerous successful new black leaders in current day South Africa, in business and other environments were educated before 1990, such as Ignatius Sehoole, Wiseman Lumikile Nkuhlu, Richard Maponya, Nonkululeko Filtane, Israel Skosana, Sango Ntsaluba, Sizwe Aron Nxasana, Moses Kgosana and Victor Sekese, among others. The author also mentioned Xolela May (p. 60), who had risen ‘above his humble beginnings to study law’ and became a champion of consumer rights. How could he possibly ‘rise’ within a system of ‘denial’ of access to education and opportunity? The blanket reference to ‘the brutal state violating its people’ (p. 29), is sweeping and lacks nuanced acknowledgement of reality. The explanation of current day over-indebtedness can simply not be explained by attempting to root it in a former political dispensation.

Any thorough analysis of the history of the whole of South Africa will show that poor white people were equally marginalised by business during the early years of the 20th century and struggled equally hard to gain access to credit or opportunities to access the banking system. That is why Afrikaner capital pulled together to establish their own bank Volkskas, in 1934 (Verhoef Reference Verhoef and Jones1992, Reference Verhoef2006a, Reference Verhoefb) and their own building societies after 1940 (Saambou). The marginalisation of poor people occurred irrespective of race, but on the grounds of sound and responsible financial management. The Afrikaans life assurer, Sanlam, had black, Indian and Coloured policy-holders right from the beginning in 1918 (Halleen Reference Halleen2013), but all insurance companies, local and foreign, implemented a system of race loading on policies, simply as risk management. The British imperial banks, Standard Bank and Barclays Bank, were reluctant to open cheque accounts for Afrikaners, because they were perceived to be a risk, unable to pay for the maintenance of accounts and had insufficient security and credit records (Klopper Reference Klopper1991). The story of Indian account holders at each of the British banks when Afrikaners were unwelcome, points to the prudent business decisions of the imperial banks. The low presence of black people in financial institutions was a function of compliance with prudent managerial policies of all banks across Africa. So, the popular sweeping story of so-called ‘credit apartheid’ is too simplistic and undermines the credibility of the rest of the book's explanation on trends towards over-extension of debt. The history of South Africa is far more nuanced and complex. The roots of successful black businessmen long before the 1990s are simply disregarded, because it does not fit the popular paradigm.

The point is, credit is extended to persons who earned the trust of the creditor. Bank credit and private property were introduced during colonial times. Controlled access was not unique to South Africa, but prudent banking has existed since the introduction of the imperial banks in 1862, long before the National Party rose to power in 1948. The credibility of the book would have been enhanced by a wider focus on the micro-level experiences of ordinary persons of all races. How does so-called ‘credit apartheid’ hold for the Indian and Coloured communities?

The explanation of massive and sudden escalation of indebtedness after 1990 has much stronger credibility, since it accounts for the politically induced aspirations of the majority of the population by the new government. The new state preached historical disadvantagedness and entitlement to the luxuries of the wealthy. James quoted one government spokesperson saying, ‘I did not join the revolution to be poor’ (p. 236). Business targeted the newly empowered salaried civil servants and empowerment appointees. The responsibility linked to credit was underplayed and financial literacy under-developed, while expectations showed no relationship to ability, capacity or means. The most original contribution of James' book is her acknowledgement of the mismatch between the call for liberalisation and the contradictory state interventionist regulation of the market to ‘protect’ consumers against the market. James concludes that the only solution to ‘giving in’ to consumption financed by credit is ‘self-discipline and the reshaping of subjectivities’ (p. 236).

Money from Nothing is a powerful book – it contains carefully implemented fieldwork, the collection of invaluable personal stories and the basic ingredients of reshaping consumer behaviour in South Africa, provided that ‘apartheid bashing’ is reconsidered. The stories of prudent consumption by so many of the people in the case studies, constitute the hope of restoring a work ethic, responsible consumption and financial solvency. ‘Aspiration and indebtedness are intertwined’ (p. 237) – this statement lies at the heart of excessive indebtedness in South Africa.