Allow me to summon today’s main character: Sir Blackfen of Beaumont, a knight from the age of parchment and pledges.

Blackfen has a problem.

Not a noble problem like repelling raiders, defending the king, or rescuing maidens from pagans.

No. Something far worse…

His neighbor, Sir Reginald Jonsyn, has just built a new stone hall. With real glass windows.

Glass!

It’s basically the medieval version of Sir Reginald flashing a Rolex Daytona at Blackfen all day long.

Everyone was impressed. Except, of course, Blackfen. He can build a better, bigger, and glassier one.

So, naturally…

Blackfen decides that’s exactly what he’ll do.

But, alas…

Like most knights, our dear Blackfen is cash poor.

So what does Blackfen do?

Simple: He’s going to borrow some money.

Keeping Up With the Jonsyns

Blackfen approaches the abbott and offers to lend the monastery his land if they fund his hall.

The abbott smiles, nods, and gives Blackfen two options…

1.] the vif gage, or “life pledge.”

Or… 

2.] the mort gage, or “death pledge.”

He explains:

“If you choose the vif gage, then the profits the monastery earns from your land will eat away at your debt until it’s paid in full. Once that happens, the land is returned to you.”

“That sounds GREAT!” Blackfen says.

“But,” the abbott said, “you won’t get enough from this deal to fully fund your hall. Only one-quarter, in fact.”

“Blast!” Blackfen says. “What about the mort gage? Will it fund my hall?”

“Yes,” says the abott, “the mort gage will fund every single detail. But in this case, the profits the monastery makes from your land will not reduce your debt. You must pay the principal separately and within the allotted time.”

Blackfen frowns, fingertips grazing his stubble. “Okay… but what happens if I don’t pay the principal in full? What if I’m late?”

“The monastery keeps your land forever.”

The abbott, of course, recommends the mort gage.

(They always do!)

Blackfen reluctantly agrees.

Why? Because glass is hellishly expensive. Because he needs a lot of glass. Because Jonsyn sneers whenever he walks past.

Why the Life Pledge Died

In those times, the life pledge was just as common as the death pledge. (Of course, most people—the serfs—were shut out of both.)

But the thing about Blackfen's little dilemma is this: Things haven’t changed much since.

We stopped wearing chainmail and jousting on weekends (well, everyone except the guy who frequents my local park), but the core dynamic—the cash-poor borrower and the cash-rich institution—has been the backbone of Western finance for 900 years.

The only thing fundamentally different now? We live in a world built entirely on the death pledge, not the life pledge.

Mortgages killed vifgages because mortgages were better for lenders: the debt stayed alive, the interest flowed for decades, defaults transferred property upward, and the structure scaled beautifully into modern banking and securitized finance.

Vifgages, on the other hand, died out because they did the opposite—reduced the debt automatically, earned no interest, favored borrowers, and wouldn’t scale beyond small, local, agrarian economies.

Human nature and institutional incentives made the choice centuries ago: keep the debt alive, not the borrower.

The 50-Year Death Pledge

Seen from altitude, the 50-year mortgage isn’t a policy idea—it’s the death pledge reaching its final form.

And of course builders like Bill Pulte love it. Longer mortgages mean more churn, more buyers, more cycles of upgrades and refis.

A 50-year loan does one thing brilliantly: It stretches the leash without lowering the price.

That single move:

• Pulls more buyers into the same tight inventory

• Bids up the bottom of the market

• Makes housing appear affordable

• Extends interest payments by two extra decades

• Keeps borrowers tied to the system for life

Most will never finish the loan. They’ll sell, refi, or default long before year fifty. That’s baked in.

Blackfen got a bigger lump sum and a longer tether. Today’s buyers get the same.

Why Governments Love It

Policymakers can’t fix supply. Can’t cut rates. Can’t untangle zoning in time.

So they play their favorite card: extend the runway.

A 50-year mortgage:

• Makes payments look gentle

• Stabilizes prices

• Calms voters

• Delays a housing-led recession

And the runway is already being cleared—Fannie tossing hard FICO rules, medical debt disappearing from consideration, builder buydowns turning frantic, and regulators bending standards to keep bodies flowing into the market.

Will 50-year mortgages happen? Maybe. If they do, it’s not about affordability. It’s about keeping the debt alive.

It’s the mort-gage—the death pledge—pulled taut across half a century, ensuring the zombie shuffles on while the borrowers stay right where the system wants them.

Unless… of course… an entirely different financial architecture emerges—one not built on feudal credit at all.

Something like crypto.

More on that, though, tomorrow.