The Future of Money
Musings on the Thing that Makes the World Go
Around
Standing
in the grocery store recently, my debit card poised like a weapon to pay my bill
after I scanned in my edible items, I got
thinking...
Human
beings are such social animals, it was inevitable we would invent money. Like
language, money talks, and like talk, it glues us together. We make transactions
communally, compulsively and automatically. Even chimpanzees conduct business:
They groom and nit-pick in exchange for food, obey orders in exchange for
protection. The notion of you-scratch-my-back-I’ll-scratch-yours goes deep
into the past. As our ancestors grew beyond tight family circles and began
engaging in transactions with strangers, trust had to be fortified in a
different way. In time, money became the
medium.
When you think
about it, money is a startlingly smart concept, an invention right up there with
fire, the wheel and the computer. It’s simple and elegant, yet so potent
that it fuels the world’s economies, catalyzes ideas and even undoes
presidents. (Remember Deep Throat’s Watergate admonition to
The Washington
Post’s Bob Woodward to
“follow the money?”) It seems to act in ways both good and evil
because, like all inventions, money—in and of itself—is morally
neutral. It can save lives, defeat hunger and provide jobs, or it can buy favor,
subvert trust, erect empires and destroy people. It is a powerful motivator;
it’s as much about emotion as it is about ledgers and
figures.
Like fire, it is generally
harmless in small amounts, but powerful and unpredictable when it gathers speed
and mass. Before money, of course, there was barter, but barter was supremely
inconvenient. Four goats and two chickens for eight bushels of wheat and one
cow? Arranging these trades must have been a nightmare for the farmers and
shepherds who made them, what with all of the scampering animals and manure. We
used this tit-for-tat system for millennia (and some places, like Timbuktu and
flea markets, still do) until finally we simplified the transactions with the
minting of the first metal coins in Asia Minor 2,600 years ago. That was
liberating. You could symbolize the value of animals or grain with coin, make
the exchange, and then take the round, metal pieces elsewhere to buy whatever
you liked. Even the purest gold coins were lighter than
cows.
There was a lesson in the
invention of coins. The more portable money was, the more powerful it became,
and the more it changed us. Money evolved as a universal translator, capable of
representing time, talent, labor, goods or services, even generosity and
concern, all without ever changing its own appearance. This transformed the
world. By 330 B.C., money minted by Alexander the Great had increased trade from
India to Greece and southern Russia to northern Africa because traders knew they
could count (literally) on gold coins imprinted with the
conqueror’s
image. Cultures that
would never have otherwise interacted shared their products, ideas and
inventions, and began the long process of world shrinking, which today we seemed
to have honed to an art.
Now I
wonder how new forms of currency will change the way we deal with one another in
the 21st century? We keep morphing money, reducing it step by step to a pure
idea. The first coins improved upon the inconvenience of swapping animals. Next
we moved to paper script: lightweight symbols of the precious metals squirreled
away in underground vaults. With the elimination of the gold standard in 1931,
paper money edged closer to being nothing more than a concept, an agreement
among all parties that paper bills were worth what they were worth because on
any given day everyone agreed they
were.
In the last 50 years,
we’ve stepped even farther away from hard cash by actually making currency
out of no money at all. With a credit card in your wallet, you don’t even
need to physically, or conceptually, have money to spend money! Just the promise
that you will repay it. This enables us to mortgage future versions of our time,
energy and talent for current pleasures. Now, money has nearly made a total
transition to ephemera. Nearly all of it, except for the small amounts we carry
around in our pockets, is pure, electronic information—e-money. Each day,
trillions of dollars, euros, yen and reals fly around the world, not in the
forms of cash or coin, but as ideas—values represented by globally
agreed-upon digital codes that move at the speed of light. Money as molecules is
disappearing. As bits it is proliferating. In 2004, for the first time, check
usage actually decreased. And the Federal Reserve has stopped physically
exchanging checks altogether; it now simply exchanges electronic images of them.
As you read this, ledgers everywhere are rewriting themselves to represent the
zeroes and ones that swarm like locusts across fiber-optic lines in and out of
the world’s collective bank
accounts.
We’re a little like
Micronesia’s Yapese people this way. Their currency, which goes back
centuries, consists of enormous stones that can weigh tons and stand 10 feet
tall. Like us, the Yapese would rather not actually move their money when a
transaction is made. They leave the stones where they lie, and every islander
simply agrees that this hardest of cash now has a new owner. The shift in wealth
becomes nothing more than a shift in perception. It’s easier that
way.
Now, e-money’s portability
and convenience are trickling down to the rest of us, threatening to eliminate
even the paltry amounts we carry around. We may not participate in the online
business-to-business auctions on the mega scale that the world's corporations
do, but we get eBay, Amazon and Priceline. Less than a decade ago—though
we have all forgotten it—a debate raged over whether financial
transactions should even be allowed on the budding World Wide Web. Today we tap
a few buttons, electronically toss some numbers through the ether and buy a
vacation, book or troll doll. Meanwhile, not a dollar is physically handled,
even though a lot of them are being spent. According to figures from
Fortune
magazine, businesses sold $750 billion worth
of services, media and goods
to us
consumers in 2003. That’s nearly twice as much as in 2002. And still more
digital money will be flying: Information technology consulting firm Computer
Economics Inc. found that between 2002 and 2006, all online transactions
tripled.
Computers linked to the
Internet have made us e-money
moguls.
Can money become even more
portable? It looks that way. E-money is moving us at high speed to the on-demand
world we seem to want. The supreme portability of today’s money now makes
it possible to think of something one minute and buy it the next. This is a
little like having a fairy godmother. In Europe, cell phones are already used as
electronic wallets: Just beam the vending machine and buy a Coke. The charge is
added to your phone bill. Wal-Mart now requires that its major vendors tag
their products with radio-frequency identification
technology.
This will make every object for
sale a node on the Internet. Soon, you won’t have to pass by the cashier
or the smooth-talking electronic scanner to serially swipe your purchases at the
grocery store. You’ll simply flash your card, a machine will calculate the
value of all your electronically tagged goods in one fell swoop, a number will
be deducted from the account of your choice, and you’ll be on your way.
Will it be long before we can point
our phone at any product in any store and buy it on the spot? Whether it shows
up FedExed on your doorstep the next day or you step inside the store and pick
it up yourself is your call. It’s all made possible because no money has
to exchange hands, only electronic symbols have to rewrite themselves on a hard
disk somewhere.
The big fear in all
of this is that e-money has to be tagged with our own identity, and information
like that can be stolen as it makes its way through the ether. Identity theft is
the fastest-growing crime in America. It’s ironic that in the spending of
money today we risk losing our Selves. But since it is the credit-card companies
and banks that have to foot the bill for pilfered identities, the incentive to
solve the problem
is strong. New encryption
techniques are on the way. The longer-term dangers and temptations of e-money
may be less obvious and more personal, and I can’t say what that means for
human relationships or our self-control. The days of friendly chats with the
local bank teller are probably numbered. Discussions about the weather or the
outrageous cost of bar soap with the grocery-store cashier will dwindle as well.
On the other hand, maybe if we spend less time in lines, we will spend more time
with our loved ones. Or will we? If we can grab
anything
that strikes our fancy simply by
tapping a card or flashing our phone at it, what’s to stop the flood of
red ink and conspicuous consumption? (We’re already the most debt-ridden
society in U.S. history.) After we’ve obligated ourselves to so many banks
that we can’t think straight or relax enough to laugh, how warmly will we
interact with one another? We run the risk of becoming like spoiled children,
temporarily satiated, but, in the long run, emotionally
scorched.
But I’m an optimist.
If money is doubleedged, it’s up to us to take control and be smart enough
to remember that it’s dangerous to run with scissors. The conveniences
that morphing money brings are not all bad. Even in the form of pure
information, it can still glue us together and lubricate our relationships. Its
power can still be used to advance human and humane causes. It still
cross-pollinates the world’s ideas and cultures. And it still fuels
dreams. We just have to remember: We are supposed to be spending the money, no
matter what its form. The money isn’t supposed to be spending
us.
Posted: Mon - November 27, 6 at 09:59 PM