NEW YORK: For those who have smartphones, credit cards and bank accounts, a cashless world makes life faster and easier \u2013 less time counting exact change at the checkout counter; no need to stuff crumpled-up bills in pants pockets.<\/p>\n
With the rise of tap-to-pay and digital payment apps, many people now carry less cash, especially more affluent Americans. According to a 2022 Pew survey, about 60% of adults with household incomes of at least US$100,000 (RM413,000)\u00a0said that none of their purchases in a typical week are paid in cash, as opposed to 24% of those making less than US$30,000 (RM123,900).<\/p>\n
But in New York, that convenience can come at a cost. An entire economy of people still relies on cash \u2013 street performers, food vendors, candy sellers, the homeless and others who are struggling.<\/p>\n
Rob Brender is disabled and has been panhandling for most of the past decade. He likes to post up near stores, where a steady current of people pass by. \u201cI can\u2019t deal with rejection,\u201d he said, so he doesn\u2019t stop anyone or shout out asking for money.<\/p>\n
Instead, \u201cI sit in the street with a cup for change and I listen to 104.3 and I rock it out,\u201d he said, adding, \u201cThis is how I\u2019ve been getting by.\u201d<\/p>\n
But lately, though there seem to be endless shoppers, the cash hasn\u2019t been flowing into his cup.<\/p>\n
Brender, 55, who lives in a group home at Creedmoor Psychiatric Centre, said his friend made him a sign with a Venmo username written on it, but no one has stopped to use it, and he doesn\u2019t even know how to access his account.<\/p>\n
New Yorkers of all backgrounds are noticing how the shift is affecting their interactions.<\/p>\n
Marty Burns, 32, an architectural designer and educator, said he often forces himself to remember to bring cash when he leaves his apartment.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you have cash and you feel like you can contribute, as a person traversing New York, towards, say, a street performer or someone at Grand Central, you do feel less isolated from the community,\u201d he said. \u201cHaving cash allows us to express support for each other in a small way. It allows us to be more present.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lost interaction <\/p>\n
Riva Dhamala, 29, a designer, said she had felt more connected with people in the city when she used to carry cash. But now, with the spread of Apple Pay, using cash is often a hassle. There are an estimated 65.6 million Apple Pay users in the United States, according to Capital One Shopping, a figure that is expected to grow to more than 84 million by 2030.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt feels like the message that I\u2019m receiving externally is, \u2018Be as fast as you can, inconvenience everybody as little as possible,\u2019\u201d Dhamala said. \u201cAnd it feels like the way to do that is by using Apple Pay.\u201d<\/p>\n
Think of the person who sighs as someone writes a check at the grocery store, or the people in line rolling their eyes at the person taking the time to count out bills from their wallet.<\/p>\n
Digital payment methods create \u201cenclosed, gated communities,\u201d said Ursula Dalinghaus, a cultural anthropologist at Ripon College. But when you hand someone cash, she added, \u201cyou\u2019re having a human connection\u201d with money that is \u201cnot tied to a device or a particular account.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jules Katz, 28, works at a startup and doesn\u2019t even carry a wallet anymore. She simply keeps her credit card and ID in her phone case, she said. When she is with her mother, who usually does have cash, she has noticed that she\u2019s able to engage more with buskers in the city. On walks in the park together, \u201cwe\u2019ll stop and give the guy who plays the sax a dollar,\u201d she said. \u201cIt does feel a little bit more interactive.\u201d<\/p>\n
Many performers have signs that display their Zelle, Venmo or Cash App information to receive tips. But that comes with the friction of pausing and carefully punching in their username, or scanning QR codes. And there are privacy concerns, too.<\/p>\n
Barriers to banking <\/p>\n
In 2020, New York City barred businesses from refusing cash payments. Many stores did not immediately comply, including the popular ice cream chain Van Leeuwen, which later settled with the city.<\/p>\n
But for many vendors, the opposite situation is all they know: They only accept cash.<\/p>\n
Mohamed Attia, the managing director of the Street Vendor Project at the Urban Justice Center, worked as a food vendor for nearly a decade after emigrating from Egypt in 2008. He said that the instantaneous nature of cash is often necessary.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt takes a few business days for the digital transactions coming in to show up in the balance, and that is limiting to a vendor who needs to go purchase more supply and restock their business,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
For several years, Attia only accepted cash. It was difficult to make time to get set up with an e-payment system. \u201cIt\u2019s one person doing everything,\u201d he said. \u201cI have to be at the garage at 4 o\u2019clock in the morning, prepare the cart, drive the cart to the spot, set up the cart to do the business, shop the fruits and veggies and get everything ready, do all the vending and then take the cart back to the garage. My day would be between 14 to 16 hours, so to add more tasks would be a huge issue.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sometimes, a customer would place an order, and only afterward would they realise they didn\u2019t have cash to pay Attia. He\u2019d tell them: \u201cI\u2019m not going to let you go hungry. Take the smoothie and pay me next time.\u201d<\/p>\n
Eventually, his business grew, and with additional business partners, Attia operated four smoothie and halal carts around Manhattan. Around 2018, \u201cwe realised that we were starting to miss out on a lot of customers,\u201d which is when they decided to install digital payment systems.<\/p>\n
He has been helping vendors around the city get set up with such systems.<\/p>\n
\u201cA lot of folks have been struggling, especially those who are not comfortable having a bank account or cannot even get into banking because of their immigration status,\u201d he said, pointing out that 96% of vendors are immigrants. \u201cThe vast majority of these financial institutions are monolingual, and they assume that every client who walks in will be speaking English, and it\u2019s intimidating for an immigrant who\u2019s not very comfortable in English.\u201d<\/p>\n
With how many different transaction apps there are, for vendors, it can feel like an endless loop of downloading, signing up and cashing out.<\/p>\n
This has been a struggle for Richard Morant, who sells his artwork on the sidewalk by the Prada store in SoHo.<\/p>\n
A potential customer would say, \u201c\u2018I have PayPal\u2019, and I was like, \u2018OK, I don\u2019t have that,\u2019 so I got PayPal,\u201d Morant, 41, said as he stood in front of his charcoal eye drawings. \u201cThen another would say, \u2018I don\u2019t have PayPal, I have Cash App.\u2019 So I had to get Cash App. Then, \u2018I don\u2019t have Cash App, I have Zelle.\u2019 It kept going.\u201d<\/p>\n
He added, \u201cWe need cash.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2018Please help me, thank you\u2019 <\/p>\n
On a recent Friday afternoon, Wilbert Rodriguez, 56, sat on the sidewalk across from the Aritzia store in SoHo. Behind him, a woman twirled in a bridal gown as a photographer snapped photos, and a flurry of tourists rushed from boutique to boutique, shopping bags in hand. In all the chaos and movement, Rodriguez remained still, holding a cup of change as he said on repeat: \u201cPlease help me, thank you. Please help me, thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rodriguez, who said he is unable to work because of an injury, lives in a Safe Haven shelter. He doesn\u2019t always like the food there, so he asks for change on the streets until he\u2019s collected US$10 to US$15, enough for a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich and an orange juice. It usually takes him the entire day to get that much. \u201cNo one has cash, what can I do?\u201d he said. \u201cWhoever got it, got it. Time is changing. I don\u2019t want to do this forever.\u201d<\/p>\n
In an increasingly cashless world, some New Yorkers are still finding ways to help those in need. On the 6 train headed uptown, a woman handed tampons to another who said she was homeless and needed help. Outside a restaurant on the Lower East Side, someone gave a cigarette to a man who asked for a dollar.<\/p>\n
On rare occasions, Brender said, someone will still go out of their way to help him, too. \u201cThey\u2019ll say, \u2018Look, I don\u2019t have cash, but let me buy you something in the deli\u2019,\u201d Brender said. \u201cAnd I\u2019ll be like, \u2018Sure, roast beef and Swiss\u2019.\u201d\u00a0\u2013\u00a0\u00a92025 The New York Times Company<\/p>\n