Lost ‘Senses’ of Money in a Digital World

A few days ago, I encountered a beggar on the street, and a genuine instinct to help him arose. I reached into my pocket, only to find nothing—no coins, no small notes. I realised then that I hadn’t carried physical cash in a long time. Like many of us today, most of my transactions had shifted online. The tactile feel of money had quietly disappeared from my life. 

This absence was a stark contrast to my childhood, when money wasn’t just an abstract means of exchange—it was something you could hold, touch, and count. Coins and notes were more than just currency; they carried weight, both literal and symbolic. As children, we were sent on errands with a few rupees, and those coins felt powerful. The act of handling money, of saving it in a clay piggy bank (We had a Mr. Potato Head bank), counting it on slow afternoons, gave a sense of responsibility. Each paisa had its place, each rupee was revered.

In India, money has long been more than just a transactional tool—it is intertwined with our cultural and spiritual lives. Currency notes are placed for blessings during Diwali in the form of Lakshmi Puja, symbolising the goddess of wealth, while the first monetary gifts of the year during Vishu in Kerala are meant to bring prosperity. This reverence for money is built into our rituals, our festivals, our daily life. Money was something sacred, and the physical presence of it reinforced that respect.

Kathleen Vohs’ research on money priming delves into how the mere presence of money changes our behaviour. Vohs found that when people handle or are even subtly reminded of physical money, they tend to become more self-reliant, more focused on independence, and less likely to help others. It primes us to act in ways that align with individualism, even isolation. The study also hints at a paradox—money makes us more capable but, at the same time, less generous.

But what happens when that physical, tangible money disappears? As India rapidly transitions to a digital economy, with UPI transactions crossing 10 billion per month, digital wallets like Paytm and Google Pay taking over, and card usage growing by leaps and bounds, money has become invisible. Today, money is a number on a screen, a tap of a card, a scan of a QR code. It’s abstract, weightless, and instantaneous.

The implications of this shift are profound. Future generations will likely grow up in a world where money is devoid of sensory cues—no sight of wads of notes, no smell of paper currency, no more sound of coins clinking, no feel of crisp notes, no satisfaction of stashing away a bundle of cash. Money, once a tangible reality, will be a distant abstraction.

This shift from physical to digital currency brings with it a new set of behaviours and attitudes. When we no longer physically handle money, the psychological "priming" effect that Vohs observed begins to fade. The consequences of this are worth reflecting on:

1. Diluted Value Association: The physicality of money once forced us to engage with its value. You could feel its worth in your hands. But when money becomes numbers on a screen, its significance can erode. Spending becomes easier, more fluid, and less consequential. The friction between decision and action is gone. As a result, future generations may lose the inherent understanding of money's worth, making spending feel less tangible.
2. Reduced Saving Behaviour: The act of saving was once physical. We put coins in jars, stashed cash in cupboards, watched our savings grow before our eyes. This physical connection instilled discipline and a sense of achievement. But in a digital economy, saving is simply a number increasing on a phone screen. The satisfaction, the emotional connection to saving, may disappear, along with the rituals that once reinforced it.
3. Impulse Spending and Instant Gratification: Digital transactions are frictionless. There's no need to part with physical money, no moment of hesitation as you hand over cash. This ease of transaction promotes instant gratification, and impulse spending becomes more frequent. Already, studies show that people tend to overspend when using cards or digital wallets compared to cash. The "pain of paying" is diluted when the transaction is merely a swipe or tap.
4. Changing Social Behaviour: Money has long played a role in our social interactions—from tipping to gifting, from charitable donations to family rituals. As currency goes digital, these customs may evolve. We've already begun to see temple Hundis with QR codes for digital donations, or devices like smartphones replacing traditional items during rituals like Lakshmi Puja (laptops and iPads have replaced books & pens in Saraswati or Ayuta Pujas) The connection between money and social rituals is changing, and with it, our behaviour around generosity, gratitude, and giving.

The rise of digital currency is inevitable, but it raises a question: as money becomes more abstract, how do we preserve its significance? How do we maintain the careful balance between convenience and the emotional weight that money once carried?

Perhaps what is needed is a way to reintroduce the sensory elements of money into the digital experience. Whether through visual cues, sounds, or other forms of feedback, we need reminders of the value that money represents. The ease of digital transactions has its benefits, but it also comes with a price—a potential detachment from the very essence of what money stands for. 

The challenge lies in preserving the reverence and responsibility that money once commanded, even as it vanishes from our hands.