Mugs, bowls, bags, carpets and pockets all hold the coins that continue to pile in my room. Some are loosely tucked under my bed while others are scattered amongst cups of pencils. Their number make it far too hard to sum up their value and yet the question of their value forever occupies my mind. In my mind I think to myself, how much could I gain by exchanging this burdensome pile? I analyze this further and realize that the question I should be asking instead is, how much have I lost by not exchanging them? This realization adds to the guilt caused by their occupation in my room. If I were to disown anything it would be this pile (collection implies too much want and value than it’s worth) of coins littering my room.
To me these coins represent the division between the neat organized world I imagine and the uncontrollable and imperfect quality of reality. On paper, these bits of metal are represented by numbers distinguished by cent signs, not all too different from dollars. They can be added and subtracted with the same ease as a dollar. In reality, however, these near valueless bits of metal are heavy, noisy and inconvenient. Multiplication and addition tells me that their accumulated value should not be wasted and yet as I imagine the various paths of which I could redeem their value, I am persuaded to leave them in their place. A constant debate around what to do and a constant sense of guilt for their unused potential takes place. Should I take them to the coin bank and just tolerate the allotted fee? Should I try and use them instead of dollars? Should I care if I’m holding up the line or if I’m running late just so I can use up a measly 25 pennies’. Their existence is ever present yet unprecise and my inaction only increases their existence as each monetary transaction brings a new stack to the pile. In the abstract they possess a simple clear value which is then offset by the chaotic reality of their existence.
It comforts me that I am not the only one who struggles with this constant accumulation of coins; Alan Burdick writes that “By one estimate, $10.5 billion in coins just sits around in people’s homes gathering dust”. Perhaps this is just the consequence of our monetary system that I should accept.
Again I am drawn back to the division between the abstract and the reality. Coins occupy an odd position in that they are at once representative of being “valueless”, throw away money. Although, unlike other things we might deem “valueless”, they have the quality of having a fixed or minimum value that can be readily exchanged. Furthermore, for the lucky winner with a keen eye, there is always the chance that one might come across a collector’s coin. Indeed, I had a friend who once left Target with a pocket full of change worth $200 just by a chance discovery of an old coin; This is a rare occurrence, nevertheless, the existence of such a possibility makes choosing a path to approaching my pile of coins ever more difficult.
Unfortunately, we do not dwell in the abstract and thus must come to terms with the constant state of waste coins represent in reality. In his article “Penny Dreadful,” David Owens remarks on the disconnect between the cost of producing coins and their allotted value. He writes: “Primarily because zinc, too, has soared in value, producing a penny now costs about 1.7 cents”. And while an extra point seventh of a cent doesn’t seem like a lot, as we all know, change adds up. For the US Treasury this sum adds up to a lot. Owens cites the US Treasury as incurring “…an annual penny deficit of about fifty million dollars—a condition known in the coin world as “negative seigniorage”.
In addition to the waste incurred through production, there is also the waste incurred through usage. Burdick estimates that “About $600 worth of coins pass through the hands of a typical American each year”. It is this accepted fact of an imprecise lost value that bothers me. I cannot look at my paycheck at the end of the week and take it at face value. No, I must assume some unknown lost value which results from each splitting of a dollar as I am handed back a palm full of metal coins some of which will make it back to my pile of coins while just as many are strewn along the sidewalk, unbeknownst to me. Whether their fate is determined by my laziness or by their own defunct design and minimal value, I do not know. Either way it is inconsequential because little by little the pile of coins continues to spread about my room nesting in drawers, hidden in pockets and between the pages of books and soon action will be my only choice (I hope). But for now I look at them from the comfort of my bed and cycle back through the constant debate these coins represent.
– Kate McGorry
Burdick, Alan. “The Physics of . . . Pocket Change.” Discover Magazine October 1, 2003 Issue http://discovermagazine.com/2003/oct/featscienceof
Owens, David. “Penny Dreadful.” New Yorker March 31, 2008 Issue http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2008/03/31/penny-dreadful
The Junction Journal 