Eight reasons why cash is king in Britain

Liz Truss’s pledge to protect cash as a form of currency will shore up her political capital base with Conservative and Red Wall voters. I can’t live without cash, especially now that banks have become increasingly paranoid about fraud and “protecting” their customer.

I was reminded only a week ago when I was at the till of a huge local supermarket with a trolley nearly capsizing with Pimms, lemonade and rosé – and an impatient queue behind me, all wanting to get to their barbecues. When the ApplePay on my phone failed to work for a second time due to a “security block”, I pulled out a wad of £20 notes and quickly paid.

As I wheeled the trolley to the car, my phone rang. It was the bank asking (after a five-minute security interrogation) about my “petrol payment pattern”. “I’ve been buying up ice at various petrol stations around Shrewsbury,” I said in despair. “Is that a problem?”

What would the British do without cash? For starters, we can’t socially function as a nation without it. The ice-buying incident reminded me why so many of the best British pleasures – from racing to being a house guest – can only be enjoyed with cash. The debate over cash versus contactless is another of those wonderfully coded social dividing lines (like wearing a Covid mask, or Brexit versus Remain, or WFH or office) that the British have a genius for creating.

I am firmly in the cash camp. The countryside’s sporting-and-racing economy would collapse overnight if notes didn’t exist. Paying in cash and hoarding cash at home is a philosophy as much as anything else. In the age of Bitcoin, soulless digital banking and an ever-increasing nanny state with apps that monitor every aspect of our lives, cash is a return to old-fashioned values: do your own housekeeping, don’t live beyond your means, be your own bank. As Niall Ferguson argues in The Ascent of Money, cash isn’t really just money – it is “trust inscribed”. The value of cash comes from the belief that we place in it as a currency, not from its intrinsic worth.

It is wallets of cash that keeps the rural economy ticking over, from buying hog roasts at county shows, tipping your builder, or paying for your front door wreath at the Christmas market. It’s the social glue that holds Britain’s market stalls and sporting seasons together. It’s more than just “money” – it’s part of the libertarian streak that runs through British life with notes (albeit now made from plastic) being a symbol of our history, icons, trade and social mobility for 1,000 years.

Our love affair with cash reveals how we like to be independent, not centrally controlled. The pandemic was an excuse to try and phase out cash, so Truss is right to stand up for the 1.1 million people (including many vulnerable and pensioners) who still use cash as their main form of payment. That the Bank of England recently warned there is £14 billion of cash in old £50 and £20 paper notes – in suitcases, safes or under mattresses – that will no longer be legal tender from September 30 reveals how much we are a nation of cash lovers and hoarders.

Cash isn’t just a currency to the British – it’s an entire language of its own that is an extension of our sovereign identity. Likewise with Scottish notes. It’s about trust, “bonding” and “face value”, freedom and true market value.

Every transaction I’ve made – whether a blue, pink or green note – in my five decades of cash use has been a gentle nod of appreciation to the Queen, along with the historical figures, from Jane Austen, Charles Darwin, the Duke of Wellington and most recently, Alan Turing, all of whom tell the story of Britain. So here’s why I’ll never stop opening my wallet – and nor will you.

The country house guest

You need cash to leave a tip when you stay the weekend as a house guest. We’ve had guests asking the housekeeper for their bank details for a BACS payment after they forget to bring cash as a tip – the worst of bad form. You may also need cash to tip your loader (£60, or £80 for double guns). Plus another £80 or so to the keeper, slipped into his left hand as you are handed a brace of pheasants.

The budgeteer

While many shops and cafes are now depressingly cashless, cash is a tried and trusted way to spend within your means. It comes into its own when there are power cuts or servers are down and card machines stop working, as happened at the Glastonbury Festival this year. Ditto when the buffet card machine is “out of order” for the whole four hours duration of the Euston to Edinburgh train. Counting cash or coins is also how you teach your children about the value of money.

The worshipper

You need cash for the weekly collection at church. While some churches have introduced “electronic” plates via Donor, God (probably) and priests prefer cash.

The punter

Royal Ascot bookies only take cash – same applies to the Tote in the Grandstand. A roll of cash is as essential to a day at the races as it is going to a charity ball for the raffle or cash-bar.

The fan

Buskers at tube stations or Euston don’t take plastic. One of life’s pleasures is throwing a pound coin into a busker’s guitar case when they are playing Supertramp’s Breakfast in America.

The impulse shopper

A village fete only operates on cash. You need it to buy a tombola ticket or a second-hand Dick Francis. Without cash you won’t have your slice of Victoria sponge and pot of tea for £5. Nor can you negotiate with a historic market-town stall owner for two punnets of blackberries and half a wheel of Shropshire blue or haggle at the second-hand bookseller without a wallet of cash.

The holidaymaker

At the local county fair or flower show – think Ripon or Arundel – you need cash to buy an ice cream. At the beach in Weymouth or Brighton, it’s cash only for candy floss, fairground turns or donkey rides.

The leveller

Cash is how you cough up when you lose a round or golf just as you need £20-£30 to pay your “match fee” (helping towards tea and lunch) when playing cricket for your local village or a game at Highclere or Goodwood. It’s the equal currency of gents or gamekeepers.