The manifestation of a cashless society starts out small.

It starts with the tap of your phone here, a “no cash accepted” sign there, then a café that only uses QR codes. One day, your bank quietly closes your local ATM, so  you shrug your shoulders and open your phone, you're in a hurry after all.

It seems most convenient, even seamless and efficient, and we don't notice that something vital has slipped away.

What our brain doesn't register in these moments however, is that cash is more than money – it's our power.

For women – especially the marginalised, the cautious, and the independent – cash has long been a quiet form of freedom.

It doesn't ask who you are or report you to anyone, and it doesn't care if your name is on the deed, or the card, or the safe. If you hold it, you own it – it's yours.

But that world is vanishing – you can see it. The digital payment revolution is steamrolling ahead, and beneath the convenience of QR codes and smartphone taps lies something more sinister: control.

The cashless future is not gender-neutral

In a society where women's rights are increasingly politicised and precarious, the move to a cashless economy raises serious red flags. These are some of the ways that this insidious switch occurs:

1. Surveillance means vulnerability

In countries where reproductive rights are under threat, imagine buying a pregnancy test or accessing emergency contraception – only to realise, too late, that your purchase has been logged, geo-tracked, and linked to your digital identity.

Now imagine that data being used against you in court.

Having no access to cash is the equalivalent to having no privacy. Can you trust the platitudes of corporations and governments who insist that they honour their privacy policies? I wouldn't.

In a world where women are being punished for exercising bodily autonomy, privacy isn't a luxury – it's an absolute necessity.

2. Economic independence becomes conditional

For those women escaping domestic violence, and who often rely on small amounts of hidden cash to flee, the loss of access to cash can mean life or death. Shelters know this. Advocates know this. Survivors know this.

In a world of digital-only money:
– A partner can see every transaction.
– A controlling family member can freeze your access.
– A government can block “unapproved” services or organisations.

Financial freedom is the bedrock of physical freedom and without cash, many women may no longer have either.

3. Exclusion isn't hypothetical

Not every woman has:
– A smartphone.
– A bank account.
– A safe place to receive SMS codes or download an app.

Older women, women in remote communities, migrant workers, single mothers, and women in poverty are the most likely to be excluded in a digital-only economy.

Think about it – financial systems, like so many critical systems in the world, weren't historically built with women in mind to begin with. Hell, women could only get a credit card or buy a house without her husband or father signing off on it until late in the twentieth century.

4. Natural disasters don't wait for Wi-Fi

Here in Australia, we know how fragile our infrastructure really is. This was brought home to me recently – during Cyclone Alfred, we lost power for five full days. No internet. No electricity. No digital payments. No phone. FIVE DAYS! 

In moments like these, cash isn't optional – it's essential.

Bushfires, floods, heatwaves – all intensifying due to climate change – expose the fragility of our digital dependency. In a warming world, where power grids are strained and coverage drops out, cash is still the only currency that works without electricity or permission.

5. Permission replaces ownership

With cash, you hold your money – there's no disputing its  value, and no barriers to accessing it.

With digital money – especially programmable CBDCs – you access your money only with permission and that permission can be revoked at any time.

Imagine being denied a purchase because of your postcode, or your protest attendance, or your carbon score, or because someone decided your account was “suspicious.”

This isn't speculative fiction even though it sounds like it. It's happening now in pilot programs around the world.

What we stand to lose

The price of convenience shouldn't cost us autonomy, and we should not be compacent when those who have vested interests in convincng us otherwise should always be treated with a healthy scepticism.

Now I'm not advocating that you should ditch your phone or shun fintech altogether. Many of us love the ease of tapping to pay, and convenience will never go out of fashion.

But choice matters, and having choices is part of having true freedom.

Women deserve the option to use cash – and not be penalised for it. They should be able to make purchases that aren't data points to enrich those who want even more access to power. Women deserve to exist in the economy without needing an app, approval, or apology. We're fifty percent of the population after all, and our voice matters.

What can we do?

– Support businesses that accept cash.
– Call out “cashless-only” policies, especially in essential services.
– Push for policies that enshrine cash access in law.
– Educate others about what's at stake – especially younger women who've never needed to think about this.

Because when we lose cash, we lose more than coins and notes.

We lose a piece of our sovereignty, and once that is gone, it's not coming back.