Hamilton Island Bans the Root of All Evil: Cold Hard Cash

A couple pose on the Voyager boat on the Islands of the Great Barrier Reef in Hamilton Island in the Whitsundays, Australia, on July 1, 2009. Eddie Safarik/Tourism Queensland via Getty Images

Commentary

Hamilton Island, a tropical paradise in the Great Barrier Reef, meticulously managed by the billionaire barons of the Oatley family, have declared an unyielding ban on the supposed root of all evil: cold, hard cash.

Perhaps the Oatley family took the island off the market last year with its $1 billion (US$644 million) price tag was because the only bidder could pay in germy paper? (I joke of course.)

This speck of splendour in the coral sea, the bastion of the Oatley empire has turned its nose up at cash currency, opting instead for the sterile sanctity of cashless commerce.

And why, persist in shunning the lucre?

A proclamation on their website claims it’s all in the name of hygiene, striving to create a utopia free from the grime of physical currency for the blissful benefit of the island’s esteemed guests and its diligent staff.

Is the path to purity paved with plastic cards? Could it be that embracing the plastic fantastic is the panacea we’ve all been searching for, as profound as the promise of blissful contentment in possession-less nirvana?

One ponders whether the polymer and pixels of our cards and apps hold the secret to superior health. Should the tactile joy of flipping through a borrowed book be our next sacrifice at the altar of sanitation?

Tap or Insert?

Now that paper is condemned to the mainland, the question on Hamilton now is whether to tap or to insert. This is not merely a question of transactional gymnastics but a veritable ballet of fiscal health and hygiene.

When one opts for the seductive simplicity of a tap, does it not just send a frisson of excitement through the coffers of the banking institutions, bulking up their financial well-being with a hearty 1.25 percent surcharge? Oh, the sheer exuberance of helping the banks to fatten under the guise of convenience!

Yet, dare to insert, and select the virtuous path of cheque or savings, and behold, the surcharge vanishes like a conjurer’s trick, leaving one to wonder at the magic of financial regulations and the whimsy of banking policies.

Tourists who prefer to get down and dirty, ensnared in this comedic farce, have been offered a lifeline.

They can engage in the quaint, almost archaic act of withdrawing and depositing cash at the local outpost of civilisation, the Australia Post office. Here, they can transmute the base matter of cold, hard cash into the digital gold of a “pre-paid or top-up Mastercard,” thus enabling them to partake in the island’s cashless society without missing a beat.

Against the Utopia

The winds of discontent are blowing fiercely through the corridors of social media, where the chorus of boycotts rises like a stormy sea against the Oatley family’s cashless utopia.

Is this the herald of a “go woke, go broke” calamity, or merely the grumblings of a populace not quite ready to relinquish the tactile comfort of their banknotes?

I find myself musing aloud to the Oatley family: fear not the microbes of the mortal coin. Yes, let me be the hero who liberates you from the tyranny of the tainted cash.

In the end, one person’s germ is another’s treasure, and I am more than willing to wallow in the mire for the sake of your well-being.

Views expressed in this article are opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.