The Future of Money and Energy Exchange
In one of my portfolio project designs—a social media app called EDEN—I explored a subtle but powerful idea: location-based tipping. Imagine picking up takeout or grabbing a coffee, and only after the experience do you realize someone went above and beyond—maybe they remembered a small detail, made the experience feel personal, or simply radiated skill and care. With EDEN, you could identify them via their profile using select location-based services and reward them instantly.
This concept on the social platform was originally designed to highlight acts of social good. Picture driving past a dirty public statue in Lisbon every day, and one morning it’s suddenly clean. By holding up your phone, EDEN could help you identify the person responsible—like someone who polished a monument or assisted in a natural disaster clean-up—and tip them directly. By making these contributions visible and rewardable, the platform would encourage recognition of community care and civic effort in real time, celebrating acts that could otherwise go unnoticed.
This approach would help societies collaborate and transform their environment, attract tourism through beautification, create income opportunities for homeless populations, and restore balance to the nuance of tipping culture. In today’s system, many people are rewarded or tipped simply for meeting expectations, which can foster complacency—whether in wages from the establishment or in pursuing one’s true calling. EDEN would facilitate a shift from that focus, highlighting rare moments of exceptional service or celebrating those who have discovered their true vocation.
The project design of EDEN—and its reimagining of tipping—eventually led me to speculate about the future of money and energy exchange itself. What if, instead of typing a number into an app, your own body chemistry—your oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin—could trigger a micro-payment? What if your bank account responded automatically to your own emotional chemistry? In this kind of system, the very chemicals tied to joy, wonder, and love would become the currency of exchange.
Every time you felt awe at a piece of music, the artist could receive compensation matched to the depth of your emotional response. A teacher whose words sparked true inspiration might be rewarded in the moment that spark lit up a mind. Even small daily kindnesses—someone holding the door, a stranger’s warm smile—could generate micro-exchanges that reshape how we value human connection. Such a future economy would no longer rely on obligation, transactions, or guesswork, but on authentic resonance. We would literally exchange value through the chemistry of our own brains, creating an ecosystem where generosity, creativity, and care flow freely.
Of course, this idea—while exhilarating—belongs more to the realm of science fiction than immediate reality. To carry the thought experiment any further, it makes sense to imagine it as the seed of a story, a world that may be best brought to life on screen.
For the sake of narrative tension, that world would also have to explore its shadow side, introducing an antithesis to the ideal system. Intentional acts of harm—like repeatedly violating someone’s boundaries—could siphon value away. Victims might receive a portion as compensation, while the rest flows into a communal fund, redistributing the cost of damage back into society. What would this do to the people living in such a world? Would they grow more accountable, or would some find ways to outsmart the system, bending chemistry to their advantage?
For the sake of narrative tension, that world would also have to explore its shadow side, introducing an antithesis to the ideal system. Intentional acts of harm—like repeatedly violating someone’s boundaries—could siphon value away. A man who instilled fear in a woman, for example, might feel his balance drain as her brain chemistry registered the threat. Victims could receive a portion as compensation, while the rest might flow into a communal fund, redistributing the cost of damage back into society. What would this do to the people living in such a world? Would they grow more accountable, or would some find ways to outsmart the system, bending chemistry to their advantage? A screenplay built on this premise would force its characters—and its audience—to confront what it really means when money, energy, and the biological markers of human experience are inseparably linked.