I couldn’t help but notice a heartfelt plea from someone on Twitter looking for quarters to put in a coin-operated laundry machine in America.
today i walked to 6 banks trying to get quarters so i can do my ****ing laundry. only @WellsFargo had quarters and they only gave them to people who had accounts. they denied me at the door. how are renters supposed to clean their clothes during a national coin shortage?
— Erin Nelson | femmes can be thems (@erin_k_nelson)
It may seem surprising to many people that you still need coins for this sort of thing because the costs of messing around collecting coins and so forth would surely direct laundromat owners to upgrade to contactless or something. But then I remembered that when the US government was considering changing their coins a few years ago, these owners were most reluctant to spend any money on updating their machines, so perhaps they need a much stronger business case to put transactions on the books.
I’m so curious about this particular payments use case because way back in 1999, I wrote up a case study on laundromats for the sadly long-gone
Financial Times Virtual Finance Report. I’ll reproduce part of it here, slightly edited for brevity:
There was one area where Mondex and VisaCash [electronic cash pilot schemes] were received warmly and that was in coin-operated washing and drying machines. These accounted for almost one third of total card usage. This illustrates an interesting trend not only in New York, where the Clean Rite chain has gone over to smart cards, but in the U.S. (the world’s most supposedly most smart card-unfriendly market) as a whole. Mac-Gray Corp recently announced that it will convert half of the 105,000 laundry machines that it has in apartment buildings and college dormitories to smart cards. At every level, the installed base is increasing: Laundromax, for example, already has three smart card-based laundry outlets in Florida and plans to open 20 more such outlets this year.
I can remember calling up some of the people involved in these chains as part of some work I was doing for NatWest and being really surprised to learn that the main element of the business case was not (as I had imagined) the cost of machines getting jammed or the cost of coin collection but the increased sales through the differential pricing. Turned out that the business case was very sensitive to utilitisation, so the ability of digital money to support differential pricing was by far the most important factor in moving them away from coins.
Super Wash, a laundry chain based in the southwestern U.S., has gone the same way. The e-purse has freed the company from fixed prices and quarter increments. Vending machines now load e-purses for use in the laundry machines. With the purses, Super Wash charges $1.89 for a family-size load (drying included) and offers large discounts on washes between midnight and 6 a.m. The discounts have raised the number of loads each machine handles daily to nine (double the industry norm) generating on average 50% more revenue per location. With no coin slides to jam, Super Wash has reduced maintenance costs by 70% and slashed machine downtime (a jammed machine generates no revenue). Super Wash downloads transaction data from the laundry machine readers every few weeks and then mines the data to see, for example, how the placement of machines affects revenues.
What really did puzzle me though, as a deputy under-assistant junior consultant, was why were the operators of the laundromat were prepared to spend between $30K and $60K per outlet (yes, sixty thousand dollars per outlet) on installing something for which the banks ultimately decided there was no business case. Or, to put it another way, how could the members of the U.S. Coin Laundry Association afford to issue cards (at a cost of $3–$5 each) when banks couldn’t see a reason to. Why, I wondered, weren’t the banks actively pushing them into the marketplace to displace cash? Why did people think that there was no real demand for a physical cash substitute, nor any profit to be made from providing it when the folks at Super Wash in Phoenix (who paid $35,000 for the equipment to convert their outlet to stored–value smart cards) and the folks at Schlumberger Danyl (who sold it to them) could clearly see the way forward.
The answer probably had something to do with bank channels into the marketplace. The digital money of the 1990s was marketed like a card product, managed like a card productnand taken to market like a card product. The impact of this was that the products pushed into the market through inappropriate channels. In particular, since the card services departments of banks have had primary relationships with merchants for whom they acquired credit and debit card transactions, they relied on the same relationships for electronic cash acceptance. This explains why in the pilot schemes consumers were able to go into a bridal wear shop and buy a wedding dress with digital currency (which, unsurprisingly, none of them ever do) but could not use that same currency in the parking meter outside the shop.
So what are the appropriate channels? Looking back, the experience of laundries in the US, car parks in Leeds and vending machines in Brussels demonstrated a quarter of a century ago that digital cash has a competitive advantage at unattended points of sale. But banks back then didn’t acquire from unattended points of sale: they didn’t have any relationship with train station parking meters, chocolate bar machines on Underground platforms or drinks dispensers in corporate headquarters. In time, though, they did: and as telecommunications costs fell the debit card took up the slack.
Now you can’t even use debit cards at the car park at my local station. They never went to contactless, they went to contact-free.
So, what does all of this tell us about how Digital Sterling (e£) should work?



