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Your way with money among friends
The bill lands on the table, and your money personality takes a seat
A bill to split, a tip screen, a friend who needs a loan, a sum that landed on a Tuesday, and what your hand does before you have decided.A bill left on a saucer, cards coming out one after another, someone doing the sums out loud while the coffee goes cold.Eight scenes, one minute, and nobody reads your receipt.
8
questions
1
minute
80+
avatars
Eight questions, no overthinking. Ready?
The saucer, and the hands that drift towards it
The wallet out too fast, the calculator opened under the tablecloth, the kitty someone always ends up holding, the transfer promised for Monday. Each symbol keeps one of those habits.
A receipt with no total
Eight moments, each with three ways of reaching for the wallet, or your own words if none of them suits. Nobody checks the sum.
Your card stays filed in your space, and only a private link, if you send it, makes it travel.
Do the sums on yourself
Eight moments where money passes between friends. You pick the gesture that leaves your hand before the arithmetic does.
Choose your table
Each test has its own table, love, conflict, envy, other peopleās moods. Take the one you would sit down at tonight.
Pull up a chair
Once the test is done you can keep talking with a Persona, owing nothing. After that comes the real table, with guests in the flesh and a real receipt.
A basket of bread, divided on a calculator
Dinner ran three hours, the talk stretched like the sauce, and the bill turns up on its saucer with the tact of a registered letter. This money personality test sits down at that moment, when everyone reaches for a phone or a card without looking as if they are reaching. It does not look at your salary or your savings, only at what you do with money when other people are watching too.
The eight situations fit inside a life of shared tables and group chats, a basket of bread, an armchair for sale, a friend who needs help, a sum that landed on a Tuesday. Nobody is wrong to have a reflex, and yours shows in about a minute. A Persona puts the scenes to you one by one, you tick or you write, and a temperament family waits at the end with your avatar.
Three of the eight situations
Moments from the table and the phone. Answer as you did at the last bill, it shows better that way.
- A basket of bread divided on a calculator between four diners.
- A tip screen turned towards you, the staff looking elsewhere while looking.
- A friend writing at eleven at night to say they are two hundred dollars short.
The saucer arrives, the hands make up their minds, a money personality test takes notes
Money moves badly at a table. It slides under the tablecloth, into the next dayās transfer, into a half-said āIāll send you thatā. This money personality test follows the hand before the head has decided, at the moment the saucer arrives, the tip screen turns around, a friend writes late at night. Eight such moments, and each leaves a different mark depending on who crosses it.
The share paid in silence
Eight at the table, the salad and the water go into the grand total, and your wallet comes out without a word. The armchair for sale goes at the price offered, on a Tuesday night, to make it stop. The difference gets settled inside, on a line nobody reads.
Everyone pays for what they had, said out loud
The salad and the water have their number, announced between the cheese and the coffee, with a smile to soften it. The armchair at $120 goes for $110, argument attached. The table learns the price of each thing, and keeps it.
The highest tip, with a smile
On the screen, the highest amount lights up under your finger, with a smile. The calculator divides the bread to the penny and you pay the sum asked. Nothing is heard, at the counter or at the table. The rest travels in the shoulders all the way to the door.
Within two pennies
At the screen you remark out loud that these things are everywhere, and the staff look away a little harder. When a calculator comes out at dessert, it goes back in the pocket before the coffee. At the next dinner, nobody brings one in front of you.
Everyone keeps their receipts
Every receipt is kept, every share settled separately, and the weekend for six ends with six tidy little accounts. The loan asked for at eleven at night gets a kind no, always the same one. Friendships find clarity in it. On Sunday evening the house is tidy and a few laughs are missing from the inventory.
The kitty always held by the same person
The weekend kitty is in your hands before the car is loaded, the shopping is done for everyone, and a friendās two hundred dollars leave that same night, no date set. The guests know it. Some of them lean on it more than others.
Five hundred in the savings account
The $500 that landed on a Tuesday goes to the savings account, where it joins its relatives. The shared space is politely declined, the pay arrives on the twenty-eighth and that suits very well. A plan, meanwhile, waits on a shelf for someone to give it a date.
A deposit on a plan that does not exist yet
The $500 becomes a deposit on a plan with no name yet, and the viewing of the space is booked before the rent has been mentioned to the bank. No advert mentions the month without a net, the bank takes care of that.
Half put aside, half for dessert
Half of the $500 goes to savings, the other half ends up as dessert, in the broad sense. The armchair sells at $95, the basket of bread gets rounded up. Nothing sticks out, not even the calculator, which stays at the bottom of the bag.
In 2004, Uri Gneezy, Ernan Haruvy and Alexander Yafe invited students from the Technion, in Israel, to lunch at a restaurant near the campus, in groups of six, three men and three women, picked with an effort to avoid people who knew each other. Each group got a payment rule. Where everyone paid for their own dish, a meal cost 37.3 shekels on average per person. With the bill split six ways it rose to 50.9, and to 82.3 when the experimenter paid for lunch. Four groups paid separately, four shared the bill, two ate for free, which makes few tables. Of the twenty-four diners asked how they would prefer to pay before they were told the rule, nineteen chose to pay separately.
Elizabeth Dunn, Lara Aknin and Michael Norton published three small studies in Science in 2008 on what people do with money. In the first, 632 Americans described their monthly spending, and those who gave more to others said they were happier. In the second, sixteen employees were followed before and after a profit-sharing bonus, and how they spent it mattered more than how big it was. In the third, forty-six people were handed five or twenty dollars to spend by five oāclock, and those who bought a gift or made a donation reported more happiness that evening than those who treated themselves. Asked in advance, students mostly bet on the opposite. The scale is modest.
Neither study says which temperament family settles the bill better, and this test has passed no check of that kind itself. It stages eight moments and draws one family from them, nothing more.
A test that expects no tip
No bill to settle
The test looks at four traits, courage, gentleness, friendliness and ambition, through eight scenes where money changes hands. It scores nothing, measures neither budget nor wealth and is no financial advice. It is a game.
The gesture of the last bill
Take the answer that looks like your last meal with friends, not the one from a very good evening. You can tick one of the three or write in your own words, and your text is matched to the closest answer.
A card, filed in your account
After the eighth scene the Persona asks for your e-mail to show you your card. That opens an account with no password, the card stays in it, and a private link lets you show it.