Why Every App Wants to Be a Bank Now

By Ken Hollow, unwilling financier of the attention economy

Here’s what I wanted from social media: to post a picture, scream into the void, maybe share a meme that will haunt me for five years. Here’s what I did not want: to be coerced into setting up a digital wallet every time I try to comment on someone’s brunch.

Every app these days thinks it’s a bank. Instagram has shops. Twitter (sorry, “X”) has tipping. TikTok has coins, diamonds, gifts, and probably a 401k option hidden in there somewhere. Even LinkedIn is probably three weeks away from letting you buy “networking credits” with APR financing.

🔹 The Creeping Fintech Plague

Apps used to be about connection. Now they’re about extraction. And they all want in on the sweet, sweet microtransaction game.

• Instagram: “Buy this shirt directly from the influencer.” I came here for cat pics, not to max out my credit card on velvet robes.
• Twitter/X: “Tip your favorite poster.” As if Elon doesn’t already treat our attention like spare change.
• TikTok: “Send Nana a rose!” Translation: spend $5 on a pixelated PNG flower while ByteDance pockets 70%.
• YouTube: “SuperChats and Memberships.” It’s Twitch, but with more copyright strikes.

Every app has decided that turning users into walking wallets is easier than actually innovating. And here I am, juggling Nana’s PayPal, Venmo, Ko-fi, Patreon, and an unholy OnlyFans account that I pretend doesn’t exist.

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🔹 Nana, the Accidental Bank Manager

Do you know how many revenue streams Nana currently has?

• Patreon (spells, behind-the-scenes chaos)
• Twitch (ritual livestreams, occasional raccoon appearances)
• TikTok gifts (she rakes in more roses than a Bachelor finale)
• Brand collabs (usually ending with me apologizing to Legal)
• A “Blessings Jar” on Ko-fi

She once tried to launch her own currency: NanaCoin. I aged five years building the landing page before PayPal shut it down for “violating the laws of physics.”

Every brand email I open is some new scheme: tokens, credits, memberships, coins, gems, stars. Nana loves it. She’s already planning a velvet-lined wallet “for all her devotees.” I’m just waiting for her to start offering payday loans.

🔹 Why This Sucks for Everyone Else

The fintech-ification of social media doesn’t just clutter feeds with digital tchotchkes. It actively ruins the experience:

• I can’t scroll without being sold something. A mug, a shirt, a candle, or some influencer’s custom meditation app.
• Content isn’t the product anymore. You are. Your loyalty, your wallet, your data — all for sale.
• No one asked for this. Nobody woke up and thought, “Man, I wish Instagram let me open a line of credit.”
• It’s exhausting. I came here to doomscroll, not to get a checkout notification.

🔹 The Future: Banks with a Side of App

At this rate, the lines blur. Soon:

• Venmo Stories: Share payments and feelings.
• TikTok Mortgages: 30-second explainers on why you’ll never own a house.
• Pinterest Credit Cards: Earn points every time you pin a vision board of a life you’ll never afford.
• Discord Loans: Borrow coins from your own mod team.

By 2030, Facebook will just be a credit union with memes.

🔹 Final Thoughts from the Overdraft

Every app wants to be a bank. Every app wants your money. And none of them want to admit that maybe, just maybe, people just want to post a damn picture without opening a ledger.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck as Nana’s full-time accountant-slash-sacrificial intern, calculating tax write-offs for spell candles while explaining to PayPal that “curse removal” is a legitimate business expense.

So no, I don’t want to link my debit card to Instagram. No, I don’t want to tip someone in gems. And no, I definitely don’t want to explain to my accountant why our influencer income statement includes 400 digital roses and a raccoon sponsorship.

Ken Hollow, unwilling CFO of influencer fintech hell