Break them up? No, open them up!

The Paris FinTech Forum this year was a superb event. I take my hat off to Laurent Nizri for pulling it all together and especially for his terrific first day panel with Christine Lagarde (who is Managing Director of the IMF and is therefore the woman in charge of money), Stefan Ingves (the governor of the Bank of Sweden), Carlos Torres Vila (Group Executive Chairman BBVA) and Kathryn Petralia (President of Kabbage) [video]. 

PFF Panel 1024

At one point, the conversation shifts to data. Carlos said that we should treat ownership of data as a human right, which I have to say I am not entirely sure about, and that “we should have regulation that forces data to flow” rather than the limited prescriptions of the 2nd Payment Services Directive (PSD2) “so that all sectors have to share their data, with consent, as banks have to do”.

(The reason that I’m not sure about the data ownership thing is that, as discussed in the MIT Technology Review recently, it may be a counterproductive way of thinking that “not only does not fix existing problems; it creates new ones”. Instead, was that article says, we need a framework that gives people the ability to stipulate how their data is used without requiring them to take ownership of it.)

That is a very interesting perspective on a very important issue.

What Carlos was talking about is the asymmetry at the heart of PSD2, an asymmetry that the regulators created and which if left to its own devices means an uncomfortable future for banks. I wrote about this back in 2017 for Wired, pointing out that the winner in this new environment will not be innovative startups across Europe but the people who already have all the data in world and can use data from the financial system to obtain even greater leverage from it. In other words, the GAFA-BAT data-industrial complex.

In Prospect (August 2018) there was a debate between Vince Cable, the former chief economist at Shell, and the economist John Kay. The issue was whether the internet giants should be broken up. Mr. Cable felt that the new data-industrial complexes (the DICs, as I call them, of course) need regulatory taming and that competition authorities should take a wider view of social welfare rather than focus solely on price, while Mr. Kay felt that regulators should focus elsewhere on higher priorities and let internet competition sort itself out. He has a point, because regulators have so far failed in this respect. As The Economist (Antitrust theatre, 21st July 2018) noted, despite headline grabbing fines and other antitrust actions, the European Commission has done little to strengthen competition.

So what to do? Do we sit back and allow the DICs to form unassailable oligarchies or should there be, as Carlos clearly thinks, a regulatory response? And if so, what response?

With Scott Galloway in DC.

Mr. Cable’s call for some form of regulatory response is hardly unique. Last year I had the honour of chairing Professor Scott Galloway at a conference in Washington, DC. Scott is the author of “The Four”, a book about the power of internet giants (specifically Google, Apple, Facebook and Amazon). In his speech, and his book, he sets out a convincing case for regulatory intervention to manage the power of these platform businesses. Just as the US government had to step in with the anti-trust act in the late 19th century and deal with AT&T in the late 20th century, so Scott argues that they will have to step in again to save capitalism. His argument centres on the breaking up of the internet giants, as Mr. Cable called for, but I cannot help but wonder if this is an already outdated response to changing economic dynamics in a world where data is the new oil (and personal data is the new toxic waste). Perhaps there is a post-industrial alternative to replace that industrial age regulatory recipe for healthy competition in a future capitalist framework. As Viktor Mayer-Schönberger and Thomas Range note in Foreign Affairs (A Big Choice for Big Tech, Sep. 2018), a better solution is a “progressive data sharing mandate”. They suggest sharing anonymised subsets of data to boost competition, but I think there might be an alternative.

The Banking Example

To see what this might look like, consider the example of the UK’s banking sector where regulation at both the UK and European levels has turned it into a laboratory for what is called “open banking”. Here, a “perfect storm” of the combination of the Competition and Markets Authority (CMA) “remedies”, the European Commission’s Second Payment Services Directive (PSD2) “XS2A” (weird euro-shorthand for access to accounts) provisions and the Treasury’s push for competition in retail banking mean that new business models, never mind new product and services, will be developed and explored here first.

(The rest of Europe will move to open banking in September 2019, when PSD2 comes into force, and other jurisdictions such as Australia are bringing in similar regimes — more on this later.)

Under the open banking regime, the banks are required by the regulator to install sockets in customer accounts so that anyone can plug in and access those accounts (with the customers’ permission, of course). Who knows what new businesses will be created by companies using these standard plugs to access your bank account? Who knows what new services will be delivered through the wires? It is an earthquake in the finance world and no-one can be completely sure as to what the competitive landscape will look like when the shocks have settled.

At the heart of the new regime, which began in January of this year, is the requirement for banks to implement these sockets, technically known as Application Programming Interfaces (APIs), for third-parties to obtain direct access to bank accounts. Just as apps on your smartphone can use map data through the Google Maps API or post to your Twitter stream using the Twitter API, open banking means that apps will be able to pull your statement out through an HSBC API and tell my bank to send money through a Barclays API.

Thus there is a genuinely new financial services environment coming into existence. But who will take maximum advantage of it? The incumbent banks or fintech startups? Financial services innovators or entrepreneurs who want to harness the banking infrastructure for social good? Customers taking control or challenger banks able to deliver better services to them?

I don’t think it’s any of these. Deutsche Bank Research published a note PSD 2, open banking and the value of personal data (June 2018) noting that while the new, free interfaces open up opportunities with respect to payment services, retail financing and other tailored products for fintechs who can “seamlessly attach their innovative services to the existing (banking) infrastructure”, there are others who can similarly take advantage. Retailers with a large customer bases, for example. And of course the internet giants and, somewhat surprisingly perhaps, the existing retail banks. As Deutsche Bank point out, the incumbents could also benefit and act as third-party providers “vis-à-vis other account servicing banks” and offer an array of new or extended services to their customers, which will intensify competition among all providers.

IMG 2692My Barclays mobile app can now see all of my UK bank accounts.

We already see these responses out in the market. Deutsche Bank themselves have announced a project with IATA and there is great work being done by other incumbents (see for example, my Barclays mobile app) as well as challengers. Of particular interest I think is Starling Bank’s strategy to create a platform for new players. But… as I have said before, I think the regulators have made a miscalculation in their entirely laudable effort to increase competition in the banking sector. In brief, forcing the banks to open up their treasure trove of customer transaction data to third parties is not going to mean a thousand fintech flowers blooming, precisely because of the advantages it affords the incumbents vs. incomers. And while some big retailers will take advantage, the overall impact will be to tip the balance of power to a new, different and potentially more problematic oligarchy (to use Vince’s label).

What is going wrong?

Back in 2016, I said about the regulators demanding that banks open up their APIs that “if this argument applies to banks, that they are required to open up their APIs because they have a special responsibility to society, then why shouldn’t this principle also apply to Facebook?”. My point was, I thought, rather obvious. If regulators think that banks hoarding of customers’ data gives them an unfair advantage in the marketplace and undermines competition then why isn’t it true for other organisations in general and the “internet giants” in particular? As the Diane Coyle, Bennett Professor of Public Policy at the University of Cambridge, pointed out in the Financial Times a year ago (Digital platforms force a rethink in competition policy, 17th Aug. 2017), economies of scale and insurmountable network effects mean that it will be very difficult for fintech startups to obtain significant market traction when they are competing with these giants.

Now, of course, when I wrote about this last year for the Wired magazine Wired World in 2018, no-one paid any attention because I’m just some tech guy. But when someone like Ana Botin (Executive Chairman of Santander) started talking about it, the regulators, law makers and policy wonks began to sit up and pay notice. In the Financial Times earlier this year (Santander chair calls EU rules on payments unfair, 16th April 2018) she remarked on precisely that asymmetry in the new regulatory landscape. In short, the banks are required to open up their customer data to the internet giants but there is no reciprocal requirement for those giants to open up their customer data to the banks. Amazon gets Santander’s data, but Santander doesn’t get Amazon data. Therefore, as Ana (and many others) suspect, the banks will be pushed into being heavily regulated, low-margin pipes while the power and control of the giants will become entrenched (broadly speaking, the distribution of financial services has a better return on equity than the manufacturing of them).

It boils down to this: If Facebook can persuade me that it’s in my interest to give them access to my bank account, I can press the button to give it to them and that’s that. They can use the PSD2 APIs to get to my data. On the other hand, if a financial services provider can persuade me to give them access to my Facebook data… well, hard luck. Carlos said, rather elegantly, that one of the nice things about data as a resource is that it doesn’t get used up.

What is to be done?

Ms. Botin suggested that organisations holding the accounts of more than (for example) 50,000 people ought to be subject to some regulation to give API access to the consumer data. Not only banks, but everyone else should provide open APIs for access to customer data with the customer’s permission. This is what is being planned in Australia, where open banking is part of a wider approach to consumer data rights and there will indeed be a form of symmetry imposed by rules that prevent organisations from taking banking data without sharing their own data. If a social media company (for example) wants access to Australian’s banking data it must make its data available in a format determined by a Consumer Data Standards Body. (Note that these standards do not yet exist, and as I understand things the hope is that the industry will come forward with candidates.)

This sharing approach creates more of a level playing field by making it possible for banks to access the customer social graph but it would also encourage alternatives to services such as Instagram and Facebook to emerge. If I decide I like another chat service better than WhatApp but all of my friends are on WhatsApp, it will never get off the ground. On the other hand, if I can give it access to my WhatsApp contacts and messages then WhatsApp will have real competition.

This is approach would not stop Facebook and Google and the other from storing my data but it would stop them from hoarding it to the exclusion of competitors. As Jeni Tennison wrote for the ODI in June, a good outcome would be for “data portability to encourage and facilitate competition at a layer above these data stewards, amongst the applications that provide direct value to people”, just as the regulators hope customer-focused fintechs will do using the resource of data from the banks (who are, I think, a good example of data stewards). Making this data accessible via API would be an excellent way to obtain such an outcome.

It seems to me that this might kill two birds with one stone: it would make it easier for competitors to the internet giants to emerge and might lead to a creative rebalancing of the relationship between the financial sector and the internet sector. Instead of turning back to the 19th and 20th century anti-trust remedies against monopolies in railroads and steel and telecoms, perhaps open banking adumbrates a model for the 21st century anti-trust remedy against all oligopolies in data, relationships and reputation.

Friday thought experiment: Mac-PESA

I”m very wary of promulgating the “political correctness gone mad” meme, as it is so often a lazy reactionary knee-jerk response to changing times, but I could not resist tweeting about the news that a British police force launched an investigation after a man claimed he had been the victim of a “hate crime” when… a branch of the Post Office refused to accept his Scottish banknote. This incident has now indeed entered our official statistics as a hate crime.

Frankly, this is mental. Scottish banknotes are not legal tender, even in Scotland, as I have explained before. The Post Office is no more obliged to accept a Scottish Fiver than it is to accept Euros, gold or cowrie shells. The story did, however, cause me to reflect on what will happen when, post-Brexit, Scotland votes to leave the UK. Will Scotland then join the euro or create its own currency?

As supporters of Scottish independence insist, once Scotland becomes an independent country, it will be responsible for managing its currency in the same way that every other country that has its own currency is responsible for managing. But how should the Scots go about creating this currency? Surely messing around with notes and coins, other than for post-functional symbolic purposes, is a total waste of time and money.

A much better idea would be to go straight to the modern age and create Mac-PESA, which would be a digital money system rather like Kenya’s M-PESA with with a few crucial enhancements to take advantage of new technology. M-PESA, as a post on the Harvard Business School blog says, is “the protagonist in a tale of global prosperity to which we all can look for lessons on the impact of market-creating innovations”, going on to say that its “roots are far more humble”. They are indeed, and if you are interested in learning more about them, I wrote a detailed post about the origins of M-PESA (and Consult Hyperion’s role in the shaping of this amazing scheme) and the success factors.

The most important of these was the role of regulator: the Central Bank of Kenya (CBK) didn’t ban it. Conversely, one of the reason for the slow take-up of mobile payments (and the related slow improvement in financial inclusion) in other countries was the regulators’ insistence that banks be involved in the development and delivery of mobile payment schemes. The results were predictable. (Here’s a post from a few years ago looking at the situation in India, for example).

Anyway, back to M-PESA. It is an amazing success. But it is not perfect. In recent times it has gone down, leaving millions of customers unable to receive or send money. These failures cost the economy significant sums (billions of shillings), which not not surprising when you remember that M-PESA moves around 16 billion Kenyan shillings per day. So when it drops out, it leaves customers hanging, it leaves agents losing revenue and it leaves the banks unable to transact.

It is now vital national infrastructure, just as Mac-PESA would be.

So what if there were no system in the middle to go down any more? What if the telco, regulator and banks were to co-operate on a Enterprise Shared Ledger (ESL) solution where the nodes all have a copy of the ledger and take part in a consensus process to commit transactions to that ledger?

Do the math, as our American cousins say. Suppose there are 10,000 agents across Scotland with 100 “super agents” (network aggregators) managing 100 agents each. Suppose there are 10m customers (there are currently around 20m in Kenya, which has ten times the population of Scotland). Suppose a customer’s Mac-PESA balance and associated flags/status are 100 bytes.

So that’s 10^2 bytes * 10^6 customers, which is 10^8 bytes, or 10^5 kilobytes or 10^2 megabytes. In computer terms, this is nothing. 100Mbytes? My phone can store multiples of this, no problem.

In other other words, you could imagine a distributed Mac-PESA where every agent could store every balance. You could even imagine, thanks to the miracles of homomorphic encryption, that every agent’s node could store every customers’ balance without actually being able to read those balances. So when Alice sends Bob 10 Thistles (the currency of the independent Scotland), Alice connect to any agent node (the phone would have a random list of agents – if it can’t connect to one, it just connects to another) which then decrements her encrypted balance by 10 and increments Bob’s encrypted balance by 10, then sends the transaction off into the network so that everyone’s ledger gets updated.

You can have a 24/7 365 scheme without having a Mac-PESA system in the middle. When you make a transaction with your handset, it gets routed to a superagent who decrements your balance, increments your payee’s balance, and then transmits the new balances (all digitally-signed of course) to the other superagents.

 

It would be a bit like making an ATM network where every ATM knows the balance of every debit card. No switch or authorisation server to go down. And if an ATM goes down, so what? When it comes back up, it can resynch itself.

So please, someone challenge me on this. As a thought experiment, why not have Scotland grab a world-leading position by shifting to a Central Bank Digital Currency (CBDC) based on a shared ledger. I very much agree with the Bank of England’s view of such a thing, which is that the real innovation might come from the programmability of such a currency. This would be money with apps and an API, and I would hope that innovators across Scotland and beyond would use it create great new products and services.

Brexit, Dr. Who and Digital Identity

You are probably all sick of reading, hearing and dreaming about Brexit by now and I certainly do not propose to comment on whether no deal is better than a bad deal or whether the blockchain can create a virtual hard border for Northern Ireland, but there is one potential implication of Brexit that I do want to flag up here for discussion. Brexit may restart the discussion about ID cards.

To give just one instance of this meme, The Independent looked at a report from the think-tank Policy Exchange and said that “the UK should consider introducing ID cards after Brexit… it argues that Brexit marks a natural point at which to reform the UK’s immigration system”.

(The think tank Global Future went even further, saying that “the introduction of electronic identity cards would address many voters’ concerns about immigration without the need for Brexit.)

The Policy Exchange report was written by David Goodhart and Richard Norrie, and what they actually called for in the report is the creation of (essentially) a population register, giving everyone a unique number to facilitate interaction with the state. They say explicitly that the system “should not require a physical ID card, let alone the obligation to carry one”. In that newspaper article on the report, David goes on to say that they want to reopen the debate about ID management to “reassure people that we know who is in the country, for how long, and what their entitlements are”. It’s my emphasis on that word “entitlements”, and I’ll come back to it in a moment.

I wrote an article about identity cards for David when he was the editor of Prospect magazine, way back in 2005, in which I said that some form of citizen register “is clearly a good idea”. I wrote another article for him back in 2007, in which I said that the (then Labour) government should radically rethink its ID scheme, moving away from the obsession with ID cards and “focus instead on allocating a unique national identity number, backed by biometrics, to each citizen—that is all that needs to be held in a national register”. Nobody listened to me (except David!) and I do not recall ever being consulted on the topic by the government.

Anyway, the point of my writing all those years ago (and I also covered the topic in my book Identity is the New Money in 2014) was to separate the register that is used to determine uniqueness from the scheme that is used to determine entitlements. I think my general point and about moving to entitlements and leaving personally-identifiable information (PII) out of transactions has been not only borne out but reinforced by GDPR and subsequent developments in the world of social media.

Brexit bootstrap

If Brexit means an opportunity to rethink at the national level, but this time involve some expert opinion, I’m all for it. As I have written before at tedious length, we do not need a national identity scheme, we need a national entitlement scheme. And now is the time to starting thinking about what it might look like. So here go. As David touches on with his comment, the real solution is to our 21st-century identity crisis not an Indian-style Aadhar identity number or a Chinese social score, but a general-purpose National Entitlement System (NES). Very few people reading either the Policy Exchange report or this blog will remember the long ago days before the last Labour government’s attempts to introduce a national identity card, but there was a time when there were consultations afoot around a much better idea, which was a national entitlement card. As my colleague Neil McEvoy and I pointed out in Consult Hyperion’s response to that consultation, the “card” is only one mechanism for storing and transporting entitlements and in the modern age there might be better ones, such as mobile phones for example, that can not only present credentials but, crucially, also validate them (a subject I will return to).

Suppose that the vision for national identity (based on the concepts of social graph, mobile authentication, pseudonyms and so on) focused on the entitlements rather than on either the transport mechanism or biographical details? Then, as a user of the scheme, I might have an entitlement to (for example) health care, Wetherspoons or access to the Wall Street Journal online. I might have these entitlements on my phone (so that’s the overwhelming majority of the population taken care of) or stored somewhere safe (eg, in my bank) or out on a blockchain somewhere. Remember, these entitlements would attest to my ability to do something: they would prove that I am entitled to do something (access the NHS, drink in the pub, read about Donald Trump), not who I am. They are about entitlement, not identity as a proxy for entitlement.

It can be done

A decade ago I set out a vision for a 21st-century identity card. I tried to make it a vision that the public and the government and journalists and think tanks and everyone else could understand. It was a vision with genuine innovation and potential that subsequent technological developments have served only to sharpen. I tried to build a narrative founded in mass media because that’s where MPs and their spads get their science and technology education from (they are all arts graduates, so their knowledge of STEM is limited). This led me to suggest that in this matter, as in so many other things, Dr. Who should be the guide.

Just as Motorola famously created the flip phone around the Star Trek communicator, I created a vision of an entitlement service around Dr. Who’s psychic paper. As any devotee of the BBC’s wonderful series knows, the psychic paper shows the “inspector” whatever it is that they need to see. If the border guard is looking for a British passport, the psychic paper looks like a British passport. If the customs officer on Alpha Centuri wants to see a Betelguesian quarantine certificate, the psychic paper looks like a Betelguesian quarantine certificate. It the bouncer is looking for a party invite (as shown in the picture below), the psychic paper looks like a party invite.

200806171440.jpg

Christopher Ecclestone flashes psychic paper.

(I remain completely serious using Dr. Who to frame the narrative. It may seem a little odd to base a major piece of national infrastructure on a children’s TV series, but as it turned out I was not the only person to look in this direction because the BBC fan forum the no-longer-online “Torchwood Think Tank” had the suggestion back in January 2007, noting “dialogue joke about wish fulfillment of Doctor Who’s Psychic I.D. card he flashes in Season 3, and how that’s the future of ID cards…”.)

We all grew up with Dr. Who, and the show engenders warm nostalgia. Now, obviously, there’s an age-related component to this. My favourite monsters were the cybermen and I always wanted to work for Brigadier-General Lethbridge-Stewart, so that gives my age away, but my kids enjoyed the show just as much and I’m sure the current generation are enjoying our new lady doctor just as much. Dr. Who is the perfect mechanism for explaining technology the public and to MPs and Ministers. However, “a national entitlement scheme” sounds a bit 1950s and a “psychic paper scheme” sounds too much like science-fiction, so I’ve decided to re-label it: welcome to the Brexit Bona Fides scheme.

Brexit bona fides

This is how the Brexit Bona Fides scheme works. Unlike Dr. Who’s psychic paper, this post-Brexit version of psychic paper only shows the viewer what he or she wants to see if the holder has the relevant credential. If you are trying to get into a nightclub, you need to prove to the bouncer that you are over 18. The bouncer is looking for a credential that proves you are over 18. You show your psychic paper to the bouncer and all it reveals to the bouncer is whether you are over 18 or not. All the bouncer sees is that you are old enough to drink. Provided you are over 18, of course. If you are not, the psychic paper remains blank, as shown below

nightclub

You cannot forge this credential because it is digitally-signed by the issuer. If a 16-year old copies an 18-year old’s certificate into their psychic paper, it won’t work, because the incoming messages will be encrypted using the 18-year old’s public key, but the 16-year old lacks the corresponding private key (which can’t be copied because it’s never given up by the psychic paper — sorry, iPhone secure element). Since transmitting the photograph and appropriate credentials directly into the brain of the nightclub bouncer isn’t possible, we will of course need to use some kind of clever communication device instead. Luckily, just such a device already exists: the mobile phone.

My mobile phone would be able to check the entitlements that it is allowed to when presented by your phone, so none of us would need special equipment. I show up with my phone and claim that I am entitled to vote: my phone presents a QR code that is read by the polling clerk’s phone which flashes up my picture if I am entitled to vote or a red cross if I am not. I walk up to Wetherspoons and the pub requests an IS_OVER_18 credential. My Apple Watch (or phone or whatever) presents a list of virtual identities that have such a credential digitally-signed by an authority acceptable to Wetherspoons (ie, one that they can sue if I’m under 18) and, assuming that I’ve chosen one that is valid, my picture pops up on the bouncer’s Apple Watch. If I don’t have such a credential, the bouncer sees a skulls and crossbones or something. The customer never sees any of the jiggery-pokery hiding their personally identifiable information (PII). In 99 out of 100 cases, displaying your photograph is the only authentication required: There’s no need for the supermarket to check your fingerprints, for the doctor to demand a PIN or for the pub to take a DNA sample.

Watch Narrative Graphic

This isn’t really magic, or even that complicated. It’s all done using standard contactless communications, standard cryptography, standard protocols, standard chips, cards, phones and photos. Incidentally, after writing many year ago about how we could implement a psychic ID card using the same contactless technology as is used in Oyster cards, I literally fell off my sofa after settling down to watch a long ago Dr. Who Easter special only to see the BBC steal my idea! Yes, Dr. Who got on a London bus using his psychic ID card (see video here), clearly demonstrating that it has an ISO 14443 interface that can fool machinery as well as the psychic interface that can fool people.

Meanwhile, back in the real world… note that when using Brexit Bona Fides, no-one can read your psychic paper — no-one can check your Bona Fides* — unless they are allowed to and when they are allowed to, and all they can see is what they are allowed to see. No more showing the guy in the pub your name, date and place of birth and goodness knows what else just to prove you are 18. Under the hood, it’s all done using keys and certificates, credentials and local authentication: The nightclub bouncer has had to obtain a digital certificate that allows him to interrogate your ID card. His phone sends the certificate to your ID card. The ID card checks it, sees that it is asking for a proof of age. It sends back your photograph, digitally-signed (that’s how his phone knows it’s a real ID card, because it can check this signature). If you’re not old enough to drink, it sends back a digitally-signed red cross (or whatever).

Bona Fides will show the GP your health service number but only if you have the right to NHS healthcare, otherwise it will be blank. Bona Fides will show the employer your national insurance number (but only if you have the right to work in the U.K.). Bona Fides will show the pub absolutely nothing except your photograph (but only if you are old enough to drink). So this is a user-friendly way to implement all of the privacy-enhancing technologies that we would like to see incorporated in a modern national identity card scheme: sector-specific identifiers, pseudonyms, mutual authentication.

 

Now, this may have sounded far-fetched back in 2005, but let me point you to the new Louisiana smart driving licence. As a couple my LinkedIn contacts pointed out, this implements some of the key psychic ID concepts.

  • The smart driving licence app means that a holder can authenticate another person’s Louisiana digital driver’s license.

  • In the bar case study, it allows the customer to select which information she would like to reveal to the bartender—such as that she is over 21. That information is displayed on the phone with a photo and embedded QR code. The bartender scans the code with her app, which tells her that the woman seated on the other side of the bar is indeed over 21. None of the customer’s personal information, such as her name, birth date, or address, is displayed or stored on the bartender’s phone.

Given the the need exists, the vision exists and the implementation is demonstrably feasible, perhaps the trigger of Brexit can give us the digital identity infrastructure that our nation so desperately needs and the lack of which is such a source of friction and inefficiency.

Security and privacy

This is a way to deliver an identity scheme that provides both more security and more privacy. It does not need a big database with everyone’s details and it does not need expensive, custom-built, specialist equipment. In that 2005 piece for Prospect magazine I argued that that the government’s vision for the proposed ID card scheme was tragically out of date and backward-looking. Even the pressure group No2ID were nice about me, saying that that I was someone in favour of an ID scheme who actually knew what I was talking about but “unfortunately his preferred scheme is incompatible with the Government’s plans”. Indeed it was, but that didn’t matter because the scheme was scrapped by the next government anyway.

Writing about this kind of entitlement scheme a few years ago, I thought that a national plan to finally do something useful about identity might obtain “parasitic vitality” (to use one of my favourite ID phrases) from the specific issue of voter ID. Maybe electronic voting could have been a focus to get the gov.verify scheme a flagship project  and get the public and private sector working together to deliver an infrastructure that will be of benefit to all. None of this ever happened and gov.verify has gone, essentially, nowhere. So why am I still going on about this! Well, David Goodhart’s new report and other media comment has set me thinking that Brexit might finally provide the stimulus needed to develop the world’s first 21st century identity scheme. Not digitised identity, but real digital identity. Implemented correctly, it could make the UK a better place to work and play in a relatively short time.

* Bona Fides, for those of you who went to state schools as I did, is a Latin phrase meaning “good faith”. My dictionary definition says that bona fides documentary evidence showing that a person is what they claim to be. Note not who they claim to be, but what they claim to be. It gives the usage “credentials, as in he set about checking Loretta’s bona fides”. I’ll go and register the domain “bonafid.es” right now.

CBDC is a black and white issue

I was reading J.P. Koning’s excellent paper [PDF] on Central Bank Digital Currency (CDBC) for Brazil and came across his reference in passing to Narayana Kocherlakota, former CEO of the Federal Reserve Bank of Minneapolis, who wrote (in 2016) that economists do not know very much about the topic of anonymity and “calls for the profession to model it more systematically”. I think this is a really critical point, because the decision about where to set the anonymity dial for a cash replacement product is an important one, and not one that should be left to technologists.

This decision is discussed in the context of implementing a digital fiat currency of one form or another. The paper explores three ways to implement a CBDC for Brazil.

  1. MoedaElectronico (Electronic Cash): this is the most cash-like of the three CBDCs. It pays neither positive interest nor docks negative interest and is anonymous. Like cash, it is a bearer token.

  2. ContaBCB (BCBAccounts): this is the most account-based of the three templates. Ac- counts are non-anonymous and pay interest, like a normal bank account.

  3. MoedaHíbrida (Hybridcoins): provides a mix of cash and account-like features, including the ability to pay a varying positive and negative interest rate, while offering users the choice between anonymity or not. 

Now, the first two are well-known and well-understood. I wrote about them again last month (I’ve discussed “BritCoin” and “BritPESA” several times before), in a comment on Christine Lagarde’s speech [15Mb: Central banks, tokens and privacy] and I don’t propose to look at them further here. It’s that last example that interests me.

Let’s go back to that point about anonymity. In the paper J.P. says that the case can also be made for a permanently negative interest rate on anonymous CBDC. Why? Well, since we all understand that criminality and tax evasion impose costs on society, it may be worthwhile to design anonymous payments systems in a way that recoups some of the costs these activities impose.

In other words, construct a cash replacement in which anonymous transactions cost more than non-anonymous transactions. One way to do this, which is referenced by J.P. in his paper, was the “Crime Pays System” or CPS as conceived by the artist Austin Houldsworth. Austin is most well-known for designing the cover of my book “Before Babylon, Beyond Bitcoin” of course, but he also ran the Future of Money Design Award for Consult Hyperion’s annual Tomorrow’s Transactions Forum for many years. Oh, and he was awarded a Ph.D by the Royal College of Art (RCA). It was his idea to have me present CPS at the British Computer Society (BCS). We had my alter ego set out the new payment system to an unsuspecting audience who, I have to say, were excellent sports about the whole thing! It turned out to be an entertaining and enlightening experience (you can read more and see the video here).

Cps bcs

In CPS, digital payments would be either “light” or “dark”. The default transaction type would be light and free to the end users. All transaction histories would be uploaded to a public space (we were, of course, thinking about the Bitcoin blockchain here) which would allow anybody anywhere to view the transaction details. The alternative transaction type would be dark. With this option advanced cryptographic techniques would make the payment completely invisible with a small levy in the region of 10% to 20% would be paid per transaction.

The system would therefore offer privacy for your finances at a reasonable price. The revenue generated from the use of this system would be taken by the government to substitute for the loss of taxes in the dark economy.

What a cool idea.

Now, at the time it was just a concept. We didn’t spend much time thinking about how it would actually work (I was basing the pretend implementation for the BCS presentation on Chaumian blinding a la Digicash, hence this gratuitous picture of me influencing David in Vegas.)

David Chaum las vegas 2018

That was then. In the meantime, however, along came ZCash and the mechanism of shielded and unshielded transactions that J.P. has used as the basis for MoedaHíbrida’s two different modes. If the user decides to hold shielded (ie, dark) MoedaHíbrida tokens, then all transactions made with those tokens are completely anonymous and untrackable. The user can decide to unshield his or her MoedaHíbrida tokens so that all transactions can be seen (ie, light).

Offering users the choice of anonymity but making them pay for is a radical solution but I’m with J.P. in thinking that it deserves attention. What I think is very clever about using negative interest rates (which had never occurred to me) is that it allows for anonymous transactions without imposing a transaction friction, thus providing the cash substitute in the marketplace, but it penalises the stashing of anonymous cash. The negative interest rate means that dark tokens will be subject to a negative interest rate of, say -5% per annum, while light tokens will receive a competitive SELIC-linked interest rate.

Whether or not this is the way forward I or not, it is a line of thought that deserves serious examination in the context of CBDC design. If it is considered important to society to provide anonymous means of exchange, then the “tax” on the anonymous store of value seems a reasonable way to distribute the costs and benefits for society as whole.

We need to go cashless, not drift into cashlessness

Having just been to China for Money2020 and having experienced at first hand the operation of a cashless society, I’ve even thinking (again) about the design of cash-replacement payment systems for a range of perspectives, using China as a case study. The first point to make is that people in China are well aware of what happens to when society switches from anonymous cash to not-anonymous (I can’t think of a suitable antonym) electronic payments. As observed in the Financial Times, “that scale of data accumulation is beyond our imagination”. The Chinese woman making this comment (while observing that despite her concerns about privacy, mobile payments are too convenient to opt out of) goes on to say (somewhat poetically, in my opinion) that she cannot tell whether her compatriots are “constructing a futurist society or a cage for ourselves”

Not everyone in China is part of this revolution, of course. The World Bank Global Findex database, which measures financial inclusion, estimates that as of lat year some some 200 million Chinese rural citizens remain unbanked, or outside of the formal financial system. As in Sweden, the shift toward cashless is raising issues around exclusion and marginalisation.

There are, for example, supermarkets with different lanes for cash or cashless payments that act as physical manifestation of social stratification between, as Foreign Policy notes, the young and the old and between the urban middle class and those left behind (between, as David Goodhart would put it, the “anywhere” and the “somewheres”). I’ve written before that we will see the same in the UK as cash vanishes from middle class life to become the preserve of the rich and the poor who will use it for tax evasion and budgeting respectively. A “Which” survey found that over 75% of low-income households rely on cash, as well as over 80% of elderly households. The shift to cashless society must be planned to help these groups so that they share in the benefits of cashlessness.

Woking going cashless

Cash is vanishing even in Woking.

I think we should start to plan for this now. In China, as in Sweden (where the New York Times observes that “cash is disappearing in the country faster than anyone thought it would“), we are beginning to see what happens to societies that slide into cashlessness. I am against this. That is, I am in favour of cashlessness, but I am in favour of it as a policy decision by society that is implemented to meet society’s goals. I couldn’t disagree more with the Wall Street Journal’s view that the move to cashless society “should be left to technological advancement”. No, it should not. This is a matter of great importance and with significant implications for society. The strategy should therefore be set by society, not by technologists.

Now, clearly, technological advances deliver new possibilities to policymakers and it is good for technologists to explore these possibilities. But, as they say, just because something can be done does not mean it should be done. We need a proper debate and a regulatory envelope set out to move forward. I wonder if we might seize the opportunity and set down a technological marker for post-Brexit Britain by declaring that cash will be irrelevant in the UK in a a decade. That is, anyone who needs to pay for anything will be able to do so electronically and that anyone who does not want to pay electronically will be presented with a method for paying in cash, albeit one that they have to pay for like (like cheques).

This must mean that in parallel we must set a national goal to provide a free at the point of use electronic payments infrastructure for everyone. Otherwise we’ll end up where they are in America, where jurisdictions are trying to ban cashlessness (and thus keep the cost of the payment system high, especially for the poor) in the name of social justice. In New York, Congressman Ritchie Torres has put forward proposals to force businesses to accept cash and called them a a “new frontier” of anti-discrimination law that is needed to prevent a “gentrification of the marketplace”. Similarly, as the Washington Post reports, lawmakers in the nation’s capital have introduced a similar bill. A council member there said that by refusing cash businesses are “effectively telling lower-income and younger patrons that they are not welcome”. Maybe, but if so it’s only because those demographics don’t spend enough to provide the margin needed to cover the cost of cash.

It’s time to start thinking about what the requirements for that infrastructure are and consulting consumer organisations, businesses and government departments on their needs. We need to make a cashless Britain, not simply allow a cashless Britain.

Central banks, tokens and privacy

Christine Lagarde, the Managing Director of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and therefore to a first approximation the person in charge of money, gave a speech in Singapore on 14th November 2018 in which she asked…

Should central banks issue a new digital form of money? A state-backed token, or perhaps an account held directly at the central bank, available to people and firms for retail payments?

This is a question that, of course, interests me greatly. The IMF Staff Discussion Note (18/08) on which her speech is based sets out these two options clearly:

  1. Token-based CBDC—with payments that involve the transfer of an object (namely, a digital token)—could extend some of the attributes of cash to the digital world. CBDC could provide varying degrees of anonymity and immediate settlement. It could thus curtail the development of private forms of anonymous payment but could increase risks to financial integrity. Design features such as size limits on payments in, and holdings of, CBDC would reduce but not eliminate these concerns.

  2. Account-based CBDC—with payments through the transfer of claims recorded on an account— could increase risks to financial intermediation. It would raise funding costs for deposit-taking institutions and facilitate bank runs during periods of distress. Again, careful design and accompanying policies should reduce, but not eliminate, these risks. 

 Or, as I said a few years ago, should the Bank of England create BritCoin or BritPESA?

I’ve written before about the advantages and disadvantages of moving to digital currencies and don’t want to go over these arguments again here. Ms. Lagarde has also spoken about them before, specifically noting that digital currencies “could be issued one-for-one for dollars, or a stable basket of currencies”. Why her new speech was reported in some outlets as being somewhat supportive of cryptocurrencies is puzzling, especially since in this speech she specifically said she remained unconvinced about the “trust = technology” (“code is law”) view of cryptocurrencies. But the key point of her speech is that the IMF is taking digital currency seriously and treating it as something that might actually happen.

(Note that the IMF position seems different to the position of European Central Bank, where President Mario Draghi recently said that they have “no plan to issue a digital currency because the underlying technology is still fragile and the use of physical cash still high in the euro zone”.)

The reason for this comment on her speech is to re-iterate my view on the BritCoin approach. I think Ms. Lagarde is right to mention a state-backed token as an option. The idea of using token technology to implement cryptoassets of any kind, which I have labelled digital bearer instruments, is feasible and deserves detailed exploration. What we might call “digital fiat”* is simply a particular kind of cryptoasset, as shown in the diagram below, a particular kind that happens to be create digital money based on an institutional binding (where the institution is central bank) to national currency.

Cryptomarket Model

 

Now, nothing in this formulation makes the use of cryptoassets (rather than a central database) inevitable. There are, however, other arguments in favour of using there newer and potentially more radical technologies to implement digital money. One of them is privacy.

(As The Economist noted on this topic, people might well be “uncomfortable with accounts that give governments detailed information about transactions, particularly if they hasten the decline of good old anonymous cash”.)

In her speech, Ms. Lagarde said that…

Central banks might design digital currency so that users’ identities would be authenticated through customer due diligence procedures and transactions recorded. But identities would not be disclosed to third parties or governments unless required by law.

As a fan of practical pseudonymity as a means to raise the bar on both privacy and security, I am very much in favour of exploring this line of thinking. Technology gives us ways to deliver appropriate levels of privacy into this kind of transactional system and to do it securely and efficiently within a democratic framework. In particular, new cryptographic technology gives us the apparently paradoxical ability to keep private data on a public leader, which I think will form the basis on new financial institutions (the “glass bank” that I am fond of using as the key image) that work in new kinds of markets.

* I happened to sit in on the panel discussion on digital fiat at Money2020 China. The discussion was chaired by Carolyn MacMahon from the San Francisco-based Digital Fiat Institute, which I must confess I’d not heard of until today, but intend to visit next time I’m over on the West Coast. In the Q&A I was going to ask about the anonymity issue but go sidetracked with the impact on commercial banks. Next time. 

Mobile money and the race to cashlesness

The wonderful people of the Economic Club of Minnesota (ECOM) invited me to Minneapolis to give a talk at their October luncheon. I was talking, generally speaking, about my “5Cs”: the potential issuers of future digital currencies. If you click on this picture, it will take you to a video of the talk and the Q&A session afterwards. One of the points I made in the talk was the payments in the future are about my mobile phone talking to your mobile phone, not me handing something (banknotes, credit cards, cheques, whatever) to you. This means that the adoption of new forms of money can accelerate without updating or replacing cash registers or plastic cards.

The mobile phone is taking us into a cashless future.

Birch Talking

The Club had arranged for a driver to pick me up from the airport and take me to the hotel. He was very interesting man of Somali origin and we had a nice chat in the car. By the time we got to the Hilton, I thought I ought to call my hosts and ask them to have him onstage instead of me!

Why? 

Well, he told me about his last visit to the old country, when he was surprised to find himself paying for everything (and he meant everything, from a nickel payment in the food market to a $400 remittance to relatives) using a mobile phone.

“It works on trust”, he told me, “because there is no government”.

(I was thinking of telling him that in my opinion the reason it works at all is because there is no government, because in places where the government has done its best to regulate mobile payments, such as India and Nigeria, mobile payments do not have anything like the penetration that they do in Somalia.)

Mobile payments are spreading. New interfaces (voice), new security (face), new authentication techniques (continuous passive authentication) and evolving network coverage mean that mobile phones are simpler and more secure than cash for a great many people around the globe. But which country will win the race to cashlessness? 

Well, that’s where my driver comes into it. My reasoning as to why he might have been a good choice for a speaker, apart from the fact he was smart and loquacious, is that it is his motherland, rather than the UK (or Sweden, or even the USA, where the Federal Reserve tell us there are now more $100 bills in circulation then there are $1 bills) that may well become the world’s first cashless country. A recent World Bank report showed that Somalia has one of the most active mobile money markets in the world, outpacing most other countries in Africa. It’s even superseded the use of cash (their words, not mine) in the country. Let me repeat that for emphasis. The World Bank say that in Somalia, cash has been “superseded”. It is approaching irrelevance (apart form anything else, no-one uses it there because of widespread counterfeiting) as Somalia heads toward cashlessness.

(As I said in my book, a cashless country does not literally mean a country where cash is extinct. Some cash will linger for post-functional purposes, such as pinning to wedding dresses or waving around in casinos, but that cash will be irrelevant to GDP.)

Interestingly, within Somalia there is already an almost cashless enclave where “payments through mobile she says have rocketed from 5% two years ago to more than 40% now”. That enclave is Somaliland (the breakaway republic of 3.5m people within Somalia), and it may well be Somaliland, rather than powered-by-Swish Sweden, as the place where cash will first vanish into memory. And if your memory is good, you may recall that I wrote about it six years ago, when I said that “Somaliland might well become the world’s first cashless country. Not Iceland or the Netherlands, Korea or Kenya, but Somaliland”.

It hardly difficult to predict that cashlessness would come to Africa first, because as I have often said at conferences, in seminars and when interviewed, it is the mobile phone (not the payment card) that is the nail in cash’s coffin, because a mobile phone is a means to get paid as well as a means to pay. It’s both a “card” and “a terminal” in the world of Visa and PayPal, Faster Payments and Venmo. The spread of mobile payments, rather than the spread of plastic cards, will see cash become irrelevant to law-abiding people in a great many countries. And that cashless world is almost here. As everyone observes, if you go to China or Kenya, you’ll see people paying with phones for everything. In fact when I was in China last, I was in a near-permanent state of shock watching people for everything, everywhere with ubiquitous bar codes. (And almost all of those payments went through third-party providers (WeChat and AliPay) rather than through bank services.)

While in urban China, cash is becoming obsolete, it is still widely used outside the cities, which is why I still think that Somaliland might win the race though, just as I said all those years ago. Don’t listen to me about it, listen to what Mr. Rashid, a tea seller there, has to say about it: “I never see cash”. And his teas sell for 2,000 Somaliland Shillings each. Which is about 25 cents. A quarter. And his customers use phones to pay.

The world of mobile payments has fascinated me from its earliest days and I’ve been able to observe its evolution first hand. My colleagues at Consult Hyperion worked on the UK’s first prepaid scheme, first WAP “walled garden”, the first NFC trials and, I’m proud to say, M-PESA in Kenya. Experience has given a pretty realistic picture of what is happening across the payments industry in general and mobile payments in particular, and my view is that we are heading toward a tipping point that will see us accelerating toward cashlessness.

 

 

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Something funny is going on with our great British cash

In our United Kingdom, the value of currency in circulation has dropped, year on year, for seven consecutive months (see chart), for the first time since records began in the 1960s. This is something of a surprise. For many, many years the use of cash for purposes such as shopping has been steadily decreasing while the amount of cash “in circulation” has been steadily increasing. Broadly speaking, the use of cash for legitimate activities has been falling while the use of cash for drug dealing, money laundering, tax evasion, payments to corrupt officials and so on has been rising. Hence my surprise at this shift in the statistics.

Of that cash that is “in circulation”, the £16.5 billion in £50 notes is particularly puzzling. Earlier this year the Treasury said that £50 notes were “rarely used” for routine transactions and that “there is also a perception among some that £50 notes are used for money laundering, hidden economy activity, and tax evasion”. I’ll say. This perception is widespread, by the way. A couple of years ago Peter Sands, the former head of Standard Chartered, said that the main use of the £50 was illicit and he’s a banker not a mere blogger such as myself.

Given this perception, I would have thought that is was time for the Treasury to tell the Bank of England to stop making life easy for criminals and withdraw the £50 over a two year period. But apparently not. Given that no-one is using them for legitimate purposes, the Bank of England has decided that now is a good time to bring the £50 up to date and make it out of plastic. Robert Jenrick, exchequer secretary to the Treasury, explained the decision by saying that “people should have as much choice as possible when it comes to their money and we’re making sure that cash is here to stay” although I don’t think anyone in the Treasury or anywhere else was asking for cash to be removed from circulation, only for a narrowing of the spectrum (dumping 1p and 2p coins, two-thirds of which are only used once, and removing £50 notes leaving the £20 as the highest denomination).

Oh well. I suppose tax evaders are more of an electoral force than I thought. According to the HMRC’s latest estimates that are shown the chart below (for 2016/2017), almost half of the tax gap is down to small businesses and they account for nearly three times as much of the missing tax as “criminals”. I’m not sure if these groups are natural Conservative voters, but they must in some measure account for the governments reluctance to inconvenience those responsible for the lion’s share of missing taxes.

UK Tax Gap Customers 2017 Picture

 

As an aside, the Bank says that it wants a scientist to be the face of the new notes and (god help us) says it will ask the public who it should be. But why a scientist? That doesn’t seem appropriate to me. Surely a much better choice would be the late and much lamented national treasure Sir Kenneth Dodd of Knotty Ash who, rather famously, kept enormous piles of cash in his attic because he didn’t trust banks. Or perhaps one of our greatest jockeys, Lester Piggott, who was once sent down for three years for tax evasion. I think the Bank should be told: the medium is the message.

Why do I keep going on about this? It’s because the people who benefit from the convenience of £50 notes (eg, builders avoiding VAT) are doing so at the expense of law-abiding tax-paying citizens (eg, me) and I have to fill in my tax form soon.

Money and games

I’ve been thinking about games again, mainly because my good friend and futurist Lynette Nusbacher has been play testing a Brexit negotiation game as part of the fascinating work she does helping governments and businesses with their scenario planning.

I’m really looking forward to playing it as part of the Wessex Separatist faction. I love tabletop games. My favourites are, I imagine, the same as everyone else’s: Settlers of Catan (which many believe to the be the best board game of all time), Dominion, Carcassone, that sort of thing. My sons and they friends’ recent favourite was Game of Thrones (and we had a few late night sessions with all of them around the Westeros map) but we’re currently into Wasteland Express, which is a sort of Mad Max (or The Domestics) meets the commodity markets resource trading game, so when we’re not playing Dungeon & Dragons 5e, we’re playing that…

Wasteland Express

 

It’s a very good game with excellent mechanics. You’re basically like Furiosa driving a war rig across a radioactive territory full of bandits and you have to try to figure out which commodities to trade, which upgrades to shoot for and so on. It fun round the table and gives the kids as good insight into the Hard Brexit Option as outlined in the Daily Mail. I was thinking about it because at a recent event someone asked about games to teach children about money (now that they don’t have play money any more) and it reminded me of some things I’d written about games and payments before! So I’ve pulled a couple of pieces together here to tell about my experiences using games to teach my kids about money, payments and financial services.

My experiences start with the time when I dusted off my copy of the “The Diners’ Club Credit Card Game”, published by Ideal in 1961. This was time when cards were far from a mass market proposition, so it looks to me as if the promotions people at Diners had had the idea of using the popular genre of the board to game to raise awareness of what exactly a card did and why anyone might want one.

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It’s nice game, a little random, but it works ok. It teaches you to spend for big-ticket items on your card so that you keep cash in hand for other purposes (investments etc). It didn’t take long to pick up and get going and we had fun playing it but to be honest I’m not sure if the youngsters would, unprompted, pick up and have another go.

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Having helped younger members of the community to understand what a card is, it was then time to move on to a more sophisticated game. I broke out “Charge It! The Credit Card Game”. The original version of this game seems to date from 1972, when the combination of technological and regulatory change (ie, the introduction of the magnetic stripe and Visa’s BASE I authorisation system together with the change in state usury laws) were pushing credit cards to the mainstream. My version of the game is a later revamp from 1996, in which players collect up to four different cards (thinly disguised Visa, MasterCard, Amex and Discover schemes) and move around a board collecting stuff of one form and another. Here’s no.2 son defying his father by using cash to purchase at carphone for $400, having first had to ask me what a carphone was.

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When we were playing D&D (3.5e) around the same time, we were playtesting a Viking-themed variant with some house rules removing arcane magic from the game and adding a couple of new character classes (the Beserker barbarian variant has always been a great favourite of mine). Variants are a great way to have more fun so I decided to make “Charge It!” even more fun by replacing the pretend cards with real ones, but I’m sure your family would have just as much fun with the cardboard echoes.

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Dungeons and Dragons isn’t very good for teaching about money or payments because it involves the use of magic, which is an endogenous growth factor in a medieval economy based on scarce commodities and plentiful labour. I know politicians are fond of saying that there is no magic money tree, but on the Sword Coast, there is. So while D&D is good for getting kids interested in history and adventure, it’s not so good for economics.

Which brings me to another point. When I was reading up on the background to some the games discussed here, I noticed that they were classified as “economics” games. I think I take issue with that. I suppose you might argue that they are about economics in the original sense of the Greek root (ie, household budgets) but they don’t really teach modern economic concepts. The games are about payments, but they are not really about money or the financial services business. My kids learned about the world of finance from games, of course, but they learned from:

  • World of Warcraft. All parents should insist their children play this game while at middle school. My kids learned all of the key economic concepts from playing this game: supply and demand, comparative advantage, price curves, options and futures, auctions and reverse auctions, arbitrage and so on. They also learned all of the basic tools of the modern investment banker, including market manipulation, price-fixing, insider trading and shill bidding. It’s a shame they have both opted to study socially-useful STEM subjects at University instead of finance, much against my direction.

  • Crunch. This is a card game that teaches the rudiments of banking, and it’s a f. Each player is a banker and, in essence, you have to collect asset cards so that you can make loans and investments. The really clever (and super realistic) part of the game is that the banker with the most money at the end wins: it doesn’t matter whether their bank goes bankrupt or not. If you over-extend the bank but manage to trouser the treasure before the roof falls in, more power to your elbow.

  • Illuminati. This remains my favourite table top card game of all time and I’m glad my kids loved it too. It has a superbly clever game mechanic which means that you build up power structures based on secret societies (e.g., The Gnomes of Zurich) but you need money to consolidate the power and you basically can’t win without screwing someone else over. A much better introduction to 21st-century pseudo-capitalist corporatism than any text book.

Meanwhile, back at “Charge It!”, I’ll just mention that I liked the two-track board idea and I thought it worked well in terms of game dynamics. You basically choose whether to go round an outer track or, once you have some credit cards to your name, an inside track with different kinds of interactions. The players don’t know what each other player is trying to collect so you have to keep an eye on what your opponents are buying as the game develops. We enjoyed playing this game and I think we might well play it again sometime.

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It was then time to return to an old favourite, Monopoly. Now, the truth is that I’ve never much liked Monopoly (it’s too random for my liking) but my kids liked it when they were small and had never played Space Crusade or Heroquest. They still play it now and then (the World of Warcraft edition is the current favourite I think). When I play tested with them, I started with our copy of Monopoly Electronic Banking edition, which replaced cash with cards some years ago and thus obtained my deputy-head-of-household seal of approval.

An interesting aside: At Consult Hyperion’s tenth anniversary Forum back in 2007, the wonderful people at Hasbro very kindly donated a few Monopoly Electronic Banking sets to the event and we ran a tournament using them! Within a couple of years, our thoughts had naturally turned to mobile and contactless, so we played a version of the game using contactless cards and NFC phones using some software that I pestered our in-house development team (the “Hyperlab”) to put together for the event.

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And so we meander closer to our post-crash finance landscape, with our next stop at a game of Monopoly Zapped. In this game, the players have cards (with no embossing any more, unlike the replacement payment cards sent to me in last month by my actual card issuers) and the “bank” is your own iPad rather than a custom piece of hardware. How right this is, on so many levels. To effect a transaction, you simply touch your “ID card” to the iPad when necessary.

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The family verdict on this one was very positive indeed. The contactless interface was quick and simple, it was convenient having the iPad keep track of everything and the game play zipped along at a decent pace. If your kids like Monopoly, they will like this how it is enhanced by mobile phones and contactless payments.

Which brings us to the cryptocurrency era. In 1961, Diners’ Club needed a game to teach people about cards. In 1972, “Charge It!” taught people about credit. Monopoly Electronic Banking introduced a cashless economy and Monopoly Zapped the contactless economy. So I think it is time to create a game to teach people about cryptocurrency. I’m thinking either a combination of Crunch and Illuminati that builds the blockchain on the table in front of the players with some kind of Trivial Pursuit-style game to represent the distributed proof-of-work or a combination of Cluedo and Monopoly where the goal is to find the Satoshi (“It was David Chaum, in the library, with a TRS-80”) while hoarding your Bitcoins and stealing your opponents.

While I was kicking around some ideas on this I remembered the fun I’d had with “The Privacy Game” back in 2012 as part of a project called VOME with the UK Technology Strategy Board. The idea of the project was to help people who are specifying and designing new, mass-market products and services to understand privacy issues and make better decisions on architecture. Part of the project was about finding different ways to communicate with the public about privacy and factor their concerns into the requirements and design processes. One the experiments was a card game lead by Dr. David Barnard-Wills from Cranfield University. I was involved in playtesting it.

Turned out that David and his team had invented a pretty good game. Think the constant trading of “Settlers of Catan” with the power structures of “Illuminati” mixed with game play of “Crunch”. I liked it.

You get cards representing personal data of different kinds. Depending on who you are (each player is a different kind of business: bank, dating agency, insurance company etc) you want different datasets and you want to link them together into your corporate database. A dataset is a line of three or more data items of the same kind. Here’s a corporate database with two datasets in it: the green biographical data 2-2-3 and the orange financial data 3-3-3, these will score at the end of the game.

There are event cards, that pop up each round to impact the play, and some special cards that the players get from time to time. Check out the database I ended up with in the game that my colleague and I won! I was the bank, so I was trying to collect financial data in my database but I was also trying to collect social data (purple) in my hand.

I remember having great fun playing this, so I decided that something based on cards would be good for my Bitcoin game (especially given the deep irony of Mt. Gox having started life as a shrine to Magic The Gathering) and got to work. Anyway, I started to make a prototype, let me know what you think…

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I also had the idea for decoupling the market price from the underlying value with proper Illuminati-style secret market manipulation so that the players with Bitcoins will try to work together to drive up the market price. As with Crunch, the goal is to amass a personal fortune even if you bankrupt widows and orphans in the process.

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My original idea was that there would be something like 100 wallets, each with a two digit number (00-99) and when players create a new wallet they get to pick the next card from a shuffled deck. So each player knows which wallets are theirs but the others do not. Money gets transferred between wallets according to some kind of trading that never finished properly working out yet and the players try to nudge the game so that more money ends up in their own wallets.

At the end of the game (when the last coin has been mined) the remaining wallets are given to their owners and the contents added up so the person with the most money wins. At any point in the game, players can prove ownership of a wallet and cash it out into $$$. Players will be trying to hack each other throughout the game and will gang up to stop the richer players from winning.

I’ve been back to this a couple of times but I haven’t thought it all through yet, but basically unconfirmed transactions go onto the table and when player gets a puzzle question right (or maybe all the players are given the same puzzle?) they get to add the unconfirmed transactions to the blockchain and win an extra Bitcoin for themselves. I did have an idea for some “Uncontrollable Event Cards” from the game:

  • “Hard drive crash, lose all of your Bitcoins”

  • “The exchange has been hacked, lose all of your Bitcoins”

  • “The dog ate your cold wallet, lose all of your Bitcoins”

  • “Your favourite exchange turns out to have been a scam, lose all of your Bitcoins”

  • “Your PC is infected with malware that stole your password, lose all of your Bitcoins”.

It’s got winner written all over it, but on the outside chance that one of you may have a better idea, I’m all ears!

Get your Bristol Pounds here

Bristol is a great city in the west of England. It was the big city to me, because I grew up in Swindon, some 40 miles away from this metropolis, and can well remember visits to its attractions. These included an ice rink and the Colston Hall, where I saw the first ever performance by a popular beat combo for which I saved good money and paid for the ticket myself. It was the Sensational Alex Harvey Band, fronted by the eponymous hard-drinking Glaswegian and featuring theatrical lead guitarist Zal Cleminson. What a band! Their music will be continue to be celebrated the length and breadth of the land when Ed Sheeran is nothing more than a wikipedia footnote in the history of Soma-music for the masses. But I digress.

These days the city, while famous for its excellent University and other cultural attractions, is more noted for its contribution to the evolution of next-generation money, being the home of the Bristol Pound (the B£). Here’s a B£ fiver, accepted at par at a number of local merchants. The notes are lovely: this one features art from local children.

Bristol Pound

Now, while the notes are lovely, they have one distinct feature that sets them apart from the Bank of England’s rival product: they carry an expiry date. I think this might be something to do with the law of the land and crude attempts to maintain the Bank’s monopoly over currency rather than an economic calculation about hoarding, but nonetheless it does mean you’d be unwise to stuff them under your mattress and forget about them. If you get one, get out and spend it.

Bristol Pound

The B£ has been around for a few years. It’s made the jump from paper currency to digital currency already and if you download the B£ app, then you can pay with it at a number of local businesses. Those businesses can also transfer money peer-to-peer within the system to pay their suppliers. I didn’t get a chance to try this out because to get a B£ account you have to have a Bristol postcode so I shall harass some poor student into to trying it out for me and report back. Meanwhile, here’s the app in action at the Watershed Cafe.

Bristol Pound

So why am I writing about the B£ now? Well, the B£ is about to undergo a pretty revolutionary change. To understand why, first recall that strictly speaking while the B£ has some characteristics of a currency (you can pay your council tax with it, for example) it isn’t an independent currency. Rather, it is a form of “currency board”, an arrangement that provides for a fixed exchange rate against some other currency. The B£ in circulation are backed by a 100% reserve held in another currency. In this case, the other currency is Sterling. That Sterling is sitting in an account at the credit union. So far, so Ecuadorian.

Talking about Sterling, you’ll recall that almost all of the Sterling in existence (well, 97% of it) was created as bank credit. This happens when you pop down to, say, RBS to borrow ten grand to buy a car. At this point RBS just invent the ten grand out of thin air on a spreadsheet somewhere and add it to your account. You then send his imaginary money through the faster payment service (FPS) to the car dealer and it ends up in their account. They pay some out in wages and it ends up in employees accounts. Some of those employees deposit it in the RBS and so on and on. I know it sound implausible, but I can assure you that it’s true: our money is just made up.

B£ don’t work this way. Right now, if you could go to the credit union to borrow B£, then could only lend you the B£ that they had received as a deposit from savers. This autumn, however, B£ are going to become real money, in the sense that they are going to start making the stuff up and lending it to small businesses in the community. The loans will be made in B£ and will be repayable in B£.

Bristol Pound

I’m very interested in the world of complementary currencies and am always curious to see new experiments in the field. In Meyer and Hudon’s paper on “Money and the Commons: An Investigation of Complementary Currencies and their Ethical Implications” at the Solvay Brussels School of Economics and Management (May 2018), they distinguish between “social commons” and “commercial commons” as frameworks for new kinds of money and these categories broadly correspond to the notions of private currency and community currency that I explore in “Before Babylon, Beyond Bitcoin”. The B£ is born in the social commons and is intended to stimulate economic activity with its community.

I used to be sceptical about this kind framework and much more interested in the commercial framework because a collection of interlinked community currencies seemed to me less economically efficient in aggregate. I still think this is true, but it may not be the point. I’m wondering if we may need to explore ways to increase economic activity within communities at the expense of inter-community transaction costs as a response to inequality and the unrest that it may cause. This has implications, because (as I wrote for Quartz recently) if communities rather than individuals become central to money creation then these currencies will be imbued with the values of the communities that create them.

This will be a really interesting experiment to see if a social currency can genuinely stimulate a local economy and, as I am very interested in the specific example of city-based social currencies because of my feeling that communities have some role to play in the future of digital money, I will be following the B£ credit experiment with interest and will report on its progress in due course.

Incidentally, I do feel bound to mention one obvious improvement that might be made to the app. I think a button to add a tip might be usefully provided.

Bristol Pound

By the way, I happen to have three of the lovely Bristol tenners on my desk even as I write and I will cheerfully hand them to the first three people who ask for them in the comments below so that they can visit that lovely city and try out some new money for themselves.