When Venmo entered the scene in 2009, it offered a newfound convenience to situations that were formerly more cumbersome.
Venmo’s mission statement is “to change people’s relationships with money and each other,” and it has certainly done that–but not always in a good way. What used to be acts of kindness have turned into financial transactions.
“Can you Venmo me for gas?” generates similar resentment to being told to help my parents with something as a child that I was already planning on doing. In the way that people used to pool money for gas on a long trip or someone going out of their way to accommodate someone else, venmoing for gas, especially in this economy, can be a very thoughtful gesture and acknowledgement of someone’s time and money. An increase in gas prices, however, is not an invitation to ask someone to pay for their part of the trip to Starbucks.
Even some larger expenses such as covering someone who forgot their wallet at home or didn’t bring enough cash are opportunities to exercise generosity and kindness. Christians especially should understand that life is more than a race to acquire “the most,” and should be slow to Venmo request and quick to offer assistance.
Of course, there is potential for a generous person to be taken advantage of, but the solution to that problem is not Venmo. It is to choose better friends who already have the emotional maturity to recognize if their practices are exploitative.
The current culture surrounding Venmo is harmful for two main reasons.
First of all, people remember kindness. I vividly remember a counselor at a musical theater summer camp giving me two quarters to buy fruit snacks when I was nine. In recent years, my sister and I broke down our suffocating yet sisterly animosity mainly through a silent understanding that we just pay for things for each other when the opportunity arises. The friends I spend copious amounts of time with carry the mantra “it all evens out eventually” because cataloging every single Taco Bell trip on Venmo is simply embarrassing at this point. Each instance, and all the other instances not named, have contributed to a far less anxious and far more generous view of money and friendship as a whole. When the “oh my gosh, thank you so much!” becomes more and more of a formality, gratitude will still play a part in how relationships are seen and how the topic of money is approached.
The second reason why I write with such conviction is that these ideas lead to a culture that emphasizes being indebted over simple favors. I never paid back those quarters, I don’t keep a record of how much I’ve spent on my sister, and my friend refused my attempt to Venmo her back for Texas Roadhouse. Those instances sit in my memory and often propel me to do the same if I see an opportunity to pay it forward. When accounts are fully settled and equalized, the cycle stops.
Venmo in itself has the potential to be a force for generosity. It can also perpetuate a spirit of taking and self-sufficiency to an unhealthy and lonely extreme. It is good to rely on other people for things. It is also good to be someone that people characterize as reliable. Celebrate chances to be considerate over urges to be self-seeking. Everyone will be far better off.
