“When can I retire?” might be the most-asked and least-answered question in personal finance. Least-answered because the honest response is a probability cloud — markets, inflation, health, tax rules — and clouds don’t fit in a sentence. So most people never get past vaguely hoping it’s before 70.

Here’s the reframe that makes it buildable: stop asking when you can retire and ask when could the pot cover the life I actually live? That’s not a cloud. That’s four numbers and a copy-down — the same machinery as the compound growth tracker, pointed at the other end of the journey.

The usual honesty: this is a model for seeing the shape of your future, not financial advice. Before acting on what it shows you, that’s a conversation for a regulated adviser.

The four numbers

  1. Pot today — everything earmarked for retirement: pensions (check the apps you’ve been ignoring), ISAs if you intend them for this. Name the cell pot_now.
  2. Monthly contribution — yours plus your employer’s, gross. Name it monthly_in.
  3. Real growth rate — the long-run assumption after inflation. Working in real terms is the trick that keeps the model honest: a cautious 3–4% real means every figure the model produces is in today’s money, and “£2,000 a month” still means something. Name it growth.
  4. The life you’re paying for — your essential monthly spend, in today’s money. If you built the four-number budget, you already know it. Name it monthly_need.

The target the pot has to hit

A pot can’t just equal your spending — it has to survive being spent from, through crashes, for decades. The rough-and-honest convention is a safe withdrawal rate of about 4% a year (many people prefer 3.5% for early retirement — the model makes changing it trivial). Which flips into the memorable version:

target = monthly_need × 12 / 4%    (= 25 years of spending)

Needing £1,800 a month? 1800 × 12 / 0.04 = £540,000 in today’s money. Yes, that number is big. Two softeners before you close the tab: the state pension (~£12,000 a year from your late 60s, verified in two minutes at gov.uk’s forecast page) can be modelled as reducing monthly_need from state pension age — it typically knocks a third or more off the target. And every £100 you can trim from essential spending cuts the target by £30,000. Frugality is leverage here, not virtue.

The countdown table

One row per year. Three formulas, copied down:

Column Formula (row 2)
Year =YEAR(TODAY())+ROWS($A$2:A2)-1
Pot =B2*(1+growth) + monthly_in*12
Target =monthly_need*12/0.04

Start the Pot column with pot_now, copy down forty rows, and read down until Pot first exceeds Target. That row is your answer — or as a formula:

=INDEX(Years, MATCH(TRUE, Pots >= Targets, 0))
target = 25 × annual spend 2041 ← the answer years →
The pot curve does the compounding; the target line just waits. Where they cross, work becomes optional — and now it's a date, not a mood.

Now interrogate it

A date on a chart changes the questions you can ask. Because the inputs are named cells, each what-if is a ten-second edit:

  • Contributions: what does £100 more a month do to the crossing year? (For most people mid-journey: more than they expect.)
  • Growth: drag it from 3% to 5% and watch how much the answer swings — that swing is the honest uncertainty, on one screen.
  • The life: model monthly_need dropping at state pension age, or a smaller “semi-retired” number from some earlier year. The question quietly shifts from “when can I stop?” to “when could I afford to work less?” — often a decade sooner, and often the better question.

The model’s real product isn’t the date — the date will move. It’s the sensitivity: learning which lever is yours to pull. Spending is usually the strongest one, which is exactly what the budget measures.

A probability cloud you can’t look at becomes a curve, a line, and a crossing. Excel’s whole job, really: turning dread into arithmetic.