Introduction
The advent of digital technologies reshapes everyday payment practices. As financial transactions are becoming integrated into for-profit platforms with fee- and data-oriented business models, so is donating for charitable and other ‘good’ causes. In this article, based on a case study of the Swiss mobile payment app Twint and its in-app platform for charitable giving, we argue that these material reconfigurations have implications for collective understandings of what it means to donate, what motivates donor subjects, how ‘doing good’ should be organized, and what role it is supposed to play within society. Through donation functions, payment apps contribute – both semiotically and materially – to a new ‘redistributive imaginary’, which promotes a market-centered model of eliciting donations and a behavioral-economic view of human subjectivity. In pursuing different sites of the ‘making’ of this imaginary, we explore the cultural repertoires of sense-making that are mobilized in this process and how they are connected to digital technology and to the economic strategies of banks, fintech sector companies, and social enterprises.
As the finance industry turns to platformization (Poell, Nieborg and van Dijck, Reference Poell, Nieborg and Van Dijck2019), finance becomes tech. Moreover, as in our following case study, (fin)tech often presents itself as conspicuously ‘good’ tech, drawing on and propelling a ‘solutionism’ (Morozov, Reference Morozov2013) that promises digital fixes for social problems. As we will show, the integration of donating into the payment platform ecology promises to reconcile the platform operators’ need to drive profitability with their promises of bettering not only users’ experiences, but also the world.
In the current socio-technical conjuncture, the digitalization of giving is unfolding in varied ways. Local and national contexts and constellations play a key role in this transformation. The location of our case study, Switzerland, is a small, wealthy, low-tax country with a strong banking sector and a hegemonic positive attitude towards the tech sector and capitalism in general. Donating money – whether for social causes, environmental issues, or humanitarian aid, both at home and abroad – is a widespread practice rooted in religious and social traditions. It is often seen as complementary to low taxes within the country’s historical settlement and political-economic strategy. Private donations accounted for 2.5 billion Swiss francs in 2023, while 72% of Swiss residents made charitable donations that year (Swissfundraising and Stiftung ZEWO, 2024).
The mobile payment app Twint has infiltrated everyday life in the country. People transfer money to their friends to cover their share of a restaurant bill or settle minor debts via their banks’ Twint smartphone apps or web interface. They use the app to pay for public transportation or parking. Analog QR code printouts, directing users to an in-app payment screen, are placed in all sorts of everyday situations – when paying for a slice of cake at a community event, rewarding a street musician, or buying cheese from a farm’s honesty box in a remote mountain region. According to the company’s statistics, the app is being used by more than half of the population in Switzerland. A 2024 study found that Twint was the most popular, positively-connoted brand in the country (Bucher, Reference Bucher2025). This reveals both the centrality of mobile payment to contemporary culture and Twint’s public image as convenient, reliable, emphatically current, and a force for ‘good’.
When people donate money to ‘good causes’ through the app, they can follow one of two routes. They can access the standard payment function mentioned above: A smartphone camera scan of Twint’s QR codes leads users directly to a generic payment screen. Twint also offers the option to make a donation as one of their in-app ‘partner functions’. Similar functions exist in other payment apps, including the Swedish Swish app (Erlandsson et al., Reference Erlandsson, Nilsson, Alì and Västfjäll2022), Bizum in Spain (Visconti-Caparrós and Campos-Blázquez, Reference Visconti-Caparrós and Campos-Blázquez2022), and Chinese ‘super apps’ like Alipay (Zhang and Chen, Reference Zhang and Chen2022: 1463). Twint launched this feature in 2019. It is administered by TrueTurn, a subsidiary of RaiseNow, Twint’s overall ‘partner’ for charitable donations. RaiseNow is a self-described social enterprise that also offers ‘360 degree’ digital fundraising and payment services for nonprofit organizations. We will explore both companies in more detail below.
The total volume of donations processed digitally in Switzerland increased from 65 million Swiss francs in 2021 to 143 million in 2023. While digital channels for donations are growing, they are – so far – dwarfed by more old-fashioned means of payment such as bank transfers. Digital enthusiasm notwithstanding, in 2023 less than 10% of the total donation volume in Switzerland was generated via digital channels (Swissfundraising and Stiftung Zewo, 2024). That year, 120 million Swiss francs were processed by RaiseNow through Twint. Twint is now the leading payment method for digital donations. At this point, however, digital donating and fundraising is still primarily a thing of the future.
Redistributive imaginaries, post-humanitarianism, and the ‘spirit of digital capitalism’
Our primary interest in this article is neither donations as such nor payment providers, but their relation to what we call, following Rebecca Bramall and Mercè Oliva (Reference Bramall and Oliva2023), redistributive imaginaries. This concept – which is linked strongly to imagined futures – allows us to show in what way transactions that aim to ‘do good’ on a fintech platform’s donation marketplace are bound up with ideas and aspirations about the nature of financial resources and how they should be redistributed in the digital age. In this section of the article, we introduce the concept of redistributive imaginaries before outlining two further strands of literature that are crucial to the argument we will develop: first, recent studies on digital ‘prosocial’ giving, which diagnose a shift from a ‘humanitarian’ to a ‘post-humanitarian sensibility’ and, second, accounts of the current ‘digital spirit of capitalism’ and the role of ethical solutionism within it. A third important strand, exploring literature on payment and platformization, will be introduced in the fourth section.
What, then, are redistributive imaginaries, and what does it mean to say – as we are claiming here – that they are being reconfigured through digital platforms? In a context like contemporary Switzerland, giving through donations is embedded in a landscape of non-market transactions that, to some extent, re-arrange the distribution of financial resources, for purposes in accordance with values such as solidarity, societal cohesion, alleviation of suffering, or equality. This takes place within an economy that is otherwise organized predominately around markets and the valorization and accumulation of capital, that is a capitalist mode of production.Footnote 1 Redistribution refers primarily to ‘corrective’, post-market mechanisms: It includes state-mandated requirements and mechanisms, such as tax paying, which finance what we refer to as the ‘welfare state’, but also voluntary forms such as donating or participating in crowdfunding drives, as well as ‘strong’, but not legally binding norms such as tithing, Zakat or Tzedakah for religious believers. In casting the conceptual net for redistribution this wide, we follow Gibson-Graham’s approach to ‘diverse economies’ (Gibson-Graham, Reference Gibson-Graham2008), which decenters the capitalist market by foregrounding ‘other’ economic practices. At the same time, as our analysis will show, we are particularly interested in how these ‘other’ practices, in the domain of redistribution, may themselves be shaped by the expansion of market-based forms, commodification, and commercially designed technology.
‘Imaginaries’ can be conceptualized as shared understandings that make sense of and enable social practices (Taylor, Reference Taylor2004). Contemporary concepts of social imaginaries can be traced back primarily to Cornelius Castoriadis (Reference Castoriadis1987), whose work has been developed further for social science and cultural studies by scholars such as Charles Taylor, Bob Jessop, and Sheila Jasanoff. Jessop’s definition of imaginaries as ‘semiotic systems that frame individual subjects’ lived experience of an inordinately complex world and/or inform collective calculation about that world’ (Jessop, Reference Jessop2010: 344) is constitutive for our approach, as is Jasanoff’s (Reference Jasanoff2015) notion of socio-technical imaginaries. Whereas the former focuses primarily on understandings of the economy and its separateness from other social domains, the latter is concerned more with technology itself: For Jasanoff, ‘technologies can operate as ‘performative scripts’ that materialize imaginaries and make them tangible’ (Bramall and Oliva, Reference Bramall and Oliva2023: 5). Through technologies and institutions – such as, in our case, digital payment systems and donations marketplaces – imaginaries become ‘collective, durable, [and] capable of being performed’ (Jasanoff, Reference Jasanoff2015: 9). Jasanoff and her co-authors also underscore the futurity and normativity of imaginaries: The latter, ‘in this sense, at once describe attainable futures and prescribe futures that (…) ought to be attained’ (Jasanoff and Kim, Reference Jasanoff and Kim2009: 120). Like Jessop, the authors stress that imaginaries have both a descriptive and a normative side – in our case, they concern how redistribution takes place and how it should and will take place in the future.
Redistributive imaginaries, then, are socio-culturally powerful understandings – linguistic-discursive representations, but also images, fantasies, and attached emotional valences (Clarke, Reference Clarke2014: 98) – of the mechanisms by which financial resources are redistributed in society, and of their future trajectories. To scrutinize such ‘ethico-political horizons for envisioning and enacting collective life’ (DeChaine, Reference DeChaine, Givoni, Ross and Orgad2021: 301) in the realm of redistribution, we introduce a new heuristic framework for examining and comparing the composition of redistributive imaginaries and the ways in which they inform world-making. We posit that redistributive imaginaries are composed of elements that contain ideas about: (a) what regularized forms of redistribution exist in society (institutions); (b) how redistribution is executed practically, how and by whom and through which technology and media it is (and should be) organized (mechanisms); (c) who is obliged and/or motivated to ‘pay in’ to these mechanisms of redistribution and why (donor-subjects); (d) who is and who is not deserving of support and through which kind of redistribution (receiver-subjects); (e) what kinds of social relationships emerge from redistributive acts (relationality); (f) to what extent and in what contexts these overall forms/mechanisms are fair, just, legitimate or prudent, and how one should feel about them (legitimation); (g) how voluntary and state-mandated forms of ‘contributing’ through financial transfers interrelate, and how the borders between different economic domains (that is, a world of competition in business versus a world of solidarity on a community level) are drawn and should be drawn (domain boundaries); (h) where the institutional and geographic boundaries of redistributive responsibility are drawn (geographic boundaries); and (i) in what future direction redistributive arrangements are currently developing (vectors of change).
In the following examination of Twint’s app-based donations platform, we focus on mechanisms, donor-subjects, legitimation, relationality, and vectors of change. We will show how they configure what we call a post-sovereign consumer-citizen redistributive imaginary. Within the institutional context of donations, the latter draws on and pushes a market and consumer choice framework (mechanism) and is bound up with an ideology of technological solutionism, conveyed through a specific ethical rhetoric (legitimation), and a behavioral-economic set of ideas about human subjectivity (donor-subjects) and its relation to the social (relationality).
Our examination of this imaginary also builds on research into distinct forms of redistributive practices and the imaginaries that give meaning to them. From this body of literature, the imaginary of the nation-based European welfare state stands out as the most prominent example of a redistributive imaginary. While this potent imaginary is organized around mechanisms of obligatory tax payment and citizens’ entitlement – albeit contested – to welfare provision (Bramall, Reference Bramall2016; Clarke, Reference Clarke and Seeleib-Kaiser2008; Jorge, Oliva, and Aguiar, Reference Jorge, Oliva and Aguiar2021; Sheild Johansson, Reference Sheild Johansson2020; Streinzer, Reference Streinzer2023), studies on the crafting of imaginaries in the fields of crowdsourcing (Certomà, Corsini, and Frey, Reference Certomà, Corsini and Frey2020) or charitable giving (Bajde, Reference Bajde2012) highlight how this is complemented by imaginaries that center redistributive mechanisms based on voluntariness and benevolence.
A prominent strand in the literature focuses on voluntary charitable contributions in the realm of international humanitarian aid. Aimed at alleviating ‘distant suffering’ (Boltanski, Reference Boltanski1999) on the basis of a universal humanity, the social imaginaries of humanitarianism (DeChaine, Reference DeChaine2002; Reference DeChaine, Givoni, Ross and Orgad2021) and a corresponding depolitized ‘emergency imaginary’ (Calhoun, Reference Calhoun, Fassin and Pandolfi2010) can also be analyzed as entailing ideas about redistributive measures, although the discursive register of redistribution is usually absent in this context. Scholarship that engages with the socio-technological dimension of imaginary creation in the context of humanitarian giving critically examines shifts brought about by ‘technologized humanitarian communication’ (Chouliaraki, Reference Chouliaraki2010: 121) and an ‘appification’ of everyday humanitarianism’ (Ølgaard, Reference Ølgaard2022: 197), supported by case studies of platformized practices of humanitarian campaigning (Madianou, Reference Madianou2013), micro-lending (Schwittay, Reference Schwittay2019), crowdfunding (Banerjee, Reference Banerjee2022), or donating on a World Food Programme app (Ølgaard, Reference Ølgaard2022; Ølgaard and Richey, Reference Ølgaard and Richey2024). When focusing on everyday practices of humanitarianism that take place outside of formal structures, Lisa Ann Richey (Reference Richey2018) identifies (digital) mediatization and marketization as its contemporary key themes. The latter two tendencies engender digital practices that enmesh the ‘traditional humanitarian principle’ with ‘mundane micro-practices that aim at personal gratification, such as the click of the mouse or an e-signature’ (Richey, Reference Richey2018: 626). Thus, technology like the World Food Programme app is analyzed as fostering an imaginary that foregrounds ‘the desires of the self as the main motivation for humanitarian action’ (Ølgaard and Richey, Reference Ølgaard and Richey2024: 1465–6). Lilie Chouliaraki speaks of an emerging ‘post-humanitarian sensibility’ that privileges the donor’s sentiments and short-term, low-intensity ‘practices of playful consumerism’ (Chouliaraki, Reference Chouliaraki2010: 107).
This strand of literature on (post-)humanitarian redistributive practices and affects elucidates how, in current socio-technical imaginaries, the technology-subject-nexus takes center stage. We, too, will investigate redistributive imaginaries as intertwined with ideas of subjectivity and shifting modes of governmentality (Foucault, Reference Foucault2008), as they can be seen as implied in the briefly sketched out accounts of ‘(post-)humanitarian selves’ above. Imaginaries contain strong views about how subjects act and should act and how they should be shaped and ‘governed’ – not only by states, but also by commercial and third sector actors. Moreover, political rationalities and techniques of power to ‘guide’ subjects can, as we will elaborate in our analysis of platformized giving on an app, be imbued in technology itself (Gritsenko and Wood, Reference Gritsenko and Wood2022).
What is missing in the work referenced above, however, is a more substantive connection to economic strategies in platformized fintech, and also to their cultural legitimization. Our study adds to the literature by investigating the implications of the ongoing digitalization of donating for redistributive imaginaries within contexts that are directly shaped by the financial industry, that is, banks and fintech companies. When examining a digital donation marketplace on a payment app, the intersection of the tech and finance sectors emerges as a key site of imaginary creation. Work on the ‘digital spirit of capitalism’ usefully highlights the relation between tech-industry ideologies, imaginaries of redistribution, and the employment of ethical rhetoric as a version of ‘good’. Oliver Nachtwey and Timo Seidl have shown how ‘digital solutionism’ paints a picture where ‘making money and making the world a better place are not contradictory but can and should go hand in hand’ (Nachtwey and Seidl, Reference Nachtwey and Seidl2023: 97), so that, in this view, ethically ‘good’ philanthropic infrastructures can be seen as an extension of entrepreneurial action. We will build on their examination of digital elites’ ideas and self-understanding by expanding into a field not addressed by their work and related research, adding to insights into the forms and dynamics of what they call an ‘ethic of solutionism’ (Nachtwey and Seidl, Reference Nachtwey and Seidl2023: 98), and into the relationship between ethical rhetoric and tech-optimism, which is also pivotal for understanding the current socio-technical conjuncture and the app under consideration here.
Data and methods
To trace this emerging redistributive imaginary of platformized giving, we will examine two of its ‘production sites’ – the Twint app’s donation interface and verbal discourse about it. We will investigate the ‘performative scripts’ (Jasanoff, Reference Jasanoff2015) activated by practical affordances and semiotic framings of the Twint app’s donation marketplace itself, and we will examine how corporate spokespeople attribute meaning to the latter, as well as to its societal role and envisaged impact.
To do so, we will firstly introduce Twint and RaiseNow and their business models (sections four and five), as a prerequisite for our culturally focused investigation. In addition to situating them in literature about platformized finance, we reviewed articles concerning the companies from the Swiss financial press (Handelszeitung, Bilanz), a trade publication (PAY), and a newspaper (Neue Zürcher Zeitung) as well as from finance sector blogs (Finews, Moneytoday, Inside Paradeplatz). These sources were used for all sections.
In section six, we then move to what happens at the Twint/RaiseNow app interface in practical-material as well as symbolic terms. Here, we build on an interface analysis with both a socio-semiotic (Scolari, Reference Scolari2018; Reference Scolari2004; Kress and Van Leeuwen, Reference Kress and Van Leeuwen2020) and an affordance-oriented approach (Ash et al., Reference Ash, Anderson, Gordon and Langley2018; Ronzhyn, Cardenal, and Batlle, Reference Ronzhyn, Cardenal and Batlle Rubio2023; Light, Burgess, and Duguay, Reference Light, Burgess and Duguay2018). Combining them allows an analysis that interrogates the aesthetics, features, functions, interactive possibilities, and propositions of the digital platforms. The aim is to understand how they guide and constrain the users’ actions, how they portray and shape the redistributive circuit, and the practices and actors involved. For an in-depth investigation of the Twint app’s ‘technological mechanisms and embedded cultural references’ (Light et al., Reference Light, Burgess and Duguay2018: 882) – which both tap into and reshape imaginative repertoires – we examine the app’s donation marketplace interface with the walkthrough method. We introduce and discuss data generated by a technical walkthrough, as this method is geared towards identifying cultural values embedded in – and possibly reinforced by – the app (Light et al., Reference Light, Burgess and Duguay2018: 888; see also Amelang, Reference Amelang2023).Footnote 2
In section seven, we turn to a discursive account of what this marketplace is supposed to ‘afford’ and engender. Here, we draw on our second data source, an expert interview we conducted with Twint AG’s Chief Sales Officer (CSO) and RaiseNow’s founder and CEO in 2024 (Interview T/R). The interview allows us to relate the insights from the walkthrough to statements, definitions, and stories of ‘tech elites’ (Brockmann, Drews, and Torpey, Reference Brockmann, Drews and Torpey2021). It is part of a larger sample of interviews with tech-sector participants, aimed at tracing relatively powerful actors and the discourses they initiate and participate in. This resonates with the approaches to studying imaginaries referenced above, which support a focus on sites where future-oriented imaginaries are being produced by actors who command significant resources (Bramall and Oliva, Reference Bramall and Oliva2023: 4).Footnote 3
All material was coded using qualitative research software and analyzed with the aim of building ‘grounded theory’ about emergent prosocial practices and the role of digital technology within them, focusing on themes, semantic frames, narrative means, and the redistributive imaginaries that they evoke and are informed by.Footnote 4
Twint, digital payment, and the cultural productivity of platformization
To introduce Twint and the context of its emergence, we embed the history of the company in a review of key arguments from the literature about digital payment and its relation to platformization. This will help situate the strategic, political-economic background of the emergent redistributive imaginary.
Legacy financial institutions and their power are threatened by digital ‘disruption’ (Fasnacht, Reference Fasnacht and Wendt2021). The future of payment transactions and of banking more broadly is contested: In Europe, payment apps continue to be national and far from interoperable, even while behind-the-scenes payment processing has become increasingly standardized. In an ongoing struggle with (primarily US-based and Asian) tech companies, the European legacy finance sector is opting for a digital ‘rebooting’ (Hendrikse, Bassens, and Rossiter, Reference Hendrikse, Bassens and Rossiter2024) by offering a series of apps and other payment options.
The case of Twint exemplifies this constellation and invites us to trace strategies of banks within a state with protectionist tendencies. Twint AG was established in 2016 as a merger of two formerly competing payment app projects. The first was a spin-off from Switzerland’s state bank and statutory service provider PostFinance, while the second was developed by a consortium of other banks. In the new public limited company, PostFinance, the financial service company SIX Group (which operates the Swiss and Spanish stock exchange and payment infrastructure, and is itself owned by banks, most prominently UBS) and major Swiss banks each held a third of the shares. Since 2024, Worldline, a French financial services provider, has acquired a 20% stake, while Swiss Post now holds 27%. It is noteworthy that the latter is an independent but state-owned institution under public law. Here, remarkably, not only ‘mainstream finance’, but also the Swiss Confederation has a stake in developing and controlling a domestic payment infrastructure including a ‘home-grown’ app. Thus, Twint’s development indicates a national ‘protectionist, defensive strategy against the spectrum of foreign BigTech’ (Ferrari, Reference Ferrari2022: 12), in which the interests of legacy finance and the state converge.
The Twint app’s success in replacing cash payments was fostered by ‘accelerated digitalisation’ (Van Zeeland and Pierson, Reference Van Zeeland and Pierson2024) during the COVID-19 pandemic, as contactless payments were encouraged by the authorities to reduce virus contagion. By 2021, cash usage was overtaken in Switzerland for the first time (Graf et al., Reference Graf, Heim, Stadelmann and Trütsch2021) and Twint had won one million new users compared to the previous year (IGEM-Digimonitor, 2021). Now that ‘everyone is there’, the company benefits from the network effect, a signature feature of platform economics. People even use the generic deonymic verb twinten (in German) or twinter (in French) – ‘to twint’ – for transferring money through the app, like ‘to PayPal’ or ‘to Venmo’ in English-speaking countries.
Twint AG capitalizes on multiple revenue streams: charging merchants for payment processing and banks for integration services (such as fees or ‘tolls’; see Maurer, Reference Maurer2012a: 23-24), offering in-app advertising and promotions, and earning from user data insights (Maurer, Reference Maurer2012b: 477; Ferrari, Reference Ferrari2022: 7; Sadowski, Reference Sadowski2019). This is to be understood against the backdrop of capitalist platformization (Poell et al., Reference Poell, Nieborg and Van Dijck2019). As the platform model thrives on ‘a new intermediary logic of data-rich accumulation’ (Langley and Leyshon, Reference Langley and Leyshon2021: 378), transaction data take center stage for commercial strategy. In the payment sector, providers have unique access to the extensive ‘potentiality of information stored within money streams’ (Westermeier, Reference Westermeier2020: 2048). Driven by the prospect of monetizing transaction data, financial services are turning into platforms (Ferrari, Reference Ferrari2022). This turn is ‘not merely a matter of extracting ‘direct rent’ in the form of fees and charges’, but also of ‘extracting ‘indirect rent’ by accruing user data and combining and analyzing it with metadata’ (Langley and Leyshon, Reference Langley and Leyshon2021: 382). Through applications like Twint, the finance industry mimics these tech-industry strategies (O’Dwyer, Reference O’Dwyer2019). The advent of super-apps that confine users to a ‘walled garden’ in which their everyday activities are convened, tracked, and potentially turned into financial value, exemplifies this. Scholars have dubbed this type of strategy the ‘appleization of finance’, where ‘practices from Silicon Valley are spilling over into ‘traditional’ finance’ (Hendrikse et al., Reference Hendrikse, Bassens and Van Meeteren2018: 160). We will discuss below what consequences this has for Twint’s in-app donations feature.
Understanding the financial side of payment platforms is essential background for what follows. However, we engage with and deepen the insight that platformization is not just a matter of economy, nor merely of technology – it is also culturally generative. As Thomas Poell and co-authors put it, platformization ‘leads to the (re)organization of cultural practices around platforms, while these practices simultaneously shape a platform’s institutional dimensions’ (Poell et al., Reference Poell, Nieborg and Van Dijck2019: 6). Donating is one such practice, and Twint’s donation marketplace is one institution where practices of redistribution are being reconfigured. We thus need a broader, cultural sense of what payment is and does. Literature from social anthropology and cultural and media studies usefully conceptualizes payment and ‘New Money’ (Swartz, Reference Swartz2020; see also Maurer, Reference Maurer2012a; Reference Maurer2012b) as forms of communication that can shape identities (for example, those of donors and recipients), social relations (for example, between these identities and intermediaries) and, overall, imaginaries (for example, of redistribution). Reviewing recent changes in payment technology and practices, Sophie Mützel (Reference Mützel2021: 284) observes the ‘re-personalization of money’ as the banking industry turns toward payment platforms. Twint’s embeddedness in social rituals such as sharing food and drinks contributes to the ‘personal’ connotation of this form of payment – as opposed to, for example, debit or credit cards. This helps to associate it with positively connoted practices and sentiments, which Twint’s advertisement and marketing strategies also strategically underline. While on the one hand, Twint co-produces payment infrastructure that is taken for granted and purportedly neutral – a general characteristic of successfully implemented and thus invisible infrastructure – it is also, semiotically, ‘offer(ing) something distinctly Swiss’ (Maeder, Reference Maeder2018), as an article in the financial press puts it. Twint turns its weakness of national limitation – Twint cannot be used abroad – into a strength, by associating itself with local, even embodied and communal meanings and affects, as well as with the national self-image. The brand can thus be described as a deliberately positioned ‘protected and cultivated folklore version of a payment app with self-defined boundaries’ (Maeder, Reference Maeder2018). ‘Swissness’ (Scheidegger, Reference Scheidegger, Decorzant, Heiniger and Reubi2012) is coded as safe, trustworthy, high-quality and stable in this positive, popular self-image: ‘We embody Swiss values and trust in the careful handling of money and data’, Twint’s former CEO is quoted as saying (Maeder, Reference Maeder2015). On this level, the app is connected to positive nation-branding, which makes it a safe and practical tool for charitable redistribution.
Having situated the platform, we will show in the remaining three sections how the redistributive imaginary of Twint’s donations platform is further shaped by promises of ‘good’ technology: ‘better’ companies, ‘better’ ways of donating through ‘better’ markets and subjects, and ‘better’ participation and deliberation.
‘Better’ companies: Fintech for changemaking and ‘ethical glow’
Donating, as an established socio-cultural practice, is widely imagined as ‘good’ and meaningful, as ‘a personal and moral act of solidarity and commitment’ (Bajde, Reference Bajde2012: 360), rather than as transactional or politically contentious. The ‘moral economy’ of donating and its imaginary contrast with – or, perhaps, complement and cushion – the harsh and escalating market-bound economic rationality that is characteristic of other spheres of life (even though humanitarian and charitable giving has always been enmeshed with an array of business elements and today is a highly professionalized field, see, for example, Barnett, Reference Barnett2022).
The fintech company RaiseNow AG is Twint’s ‘partner’ for the donations marketplace. RaiseNow presents itself as a social enterprise and ‘a torchbearer for changemakers’ (RaiseNow, 2025) as it assists the latter in optimizing their fundraising in the charity and nonprofit sector: ‘Helping to initiate change through technology’. They propose their mission in a language of justice with a transformative claim: ‘The world is unjust. We seek to rectify that. We want a future where injustice is eliminated, and where societal, environmental, and economic challenges are addressed.’ As a self-proclaimed ‘ally’ (RaiseNow, 2025) in this endeavor, RaiseNow provide the dominant fundraising infrastructure for Switzerland’s civic society organizations large and small through their collaboration with Twint.
In this rhetoric, the practice of donating becomes integrated into a tech-solutionist imaginary, in which digital solutions and their providers are central and exude a fundamental ‘goodness’ themselves. The tech sector generally tends to surround its products with an ‘ethical glow’: a generic and atmospheric sense of goodness and ethicality, a promise of benign progress and societal improvement, marked by a constant slippage (Dyer, Reference Dyer1997) between the various semantic registers of the ‘good’, which include moral as well as technical qualities (Hare, Reference Hare1952). Lana Swartz (Reference Swartz2020: 5) has observed that ‘many financial start-ups tout an attitude toward money that is ‘slow’, ‘ethical’, and rooted in ‘sharing’ and other values’. The focus on the ‘good’ also chimes with a development in broader modes of governance and their ideological legitimation that critical commentators, over the last 15 years, have described as a rhetoric of ‘ethicalization’ or ‘ethicization’ (Bogner, Torgensen, and Peissl, Reference Bogner, Torgensen and Peissl2011; Thompson, Reference Thompson2012; Bellacasa, Reference Bellacasa2017; Ege and Moser, Reference Ege and Moser2020; Ege, Reference Ege, Lange and Dietrich2022) – as part of a broader tendency towards post-politics, where a rhetoric of consensus and inevitability replaced more contentious forms of politicization (Wilson and Swyngedouw, Reference Wilson, Swyngedouw, Wilson and Swyngedouw2014).
The ‘tech-for-good’ enterprise RaiseNow was founded in Zürich 2015. It obtained a total of 5.5 million Swiss francs of start-up funding, with a subsequent addition of 12 million francs in 2025 (Roos, Reference Roos2025). Its main investors are PostFinance and SIX Group AG, the fintech holding that also owns a third of Twint AG. In the interview (T/R, 2024), RaiseNow’s CEO emphasizes that the enterprise is purpose-driven and based on the UN Sustainable Development Goals, it ‘is not just about maximizing your personal profit, but also about doing good to society’. This philanthro-entrepreneurial programme resonates with the ‘solutionist worldview’ in which ‘there is a natural alignment between business opportunities and social problems’ (Nachtwey and Seidl, Reference Nachtwey and Seidl2023: 97).
Nonprofit fundraisers are presented with the two aforementioned options using Twint technology: fundraising via Twint QR codes or via the app’s marketplace. In both cases, the business model is designed to capitalize on transactions in this field by charging their nonprofit clients fees: fees for receiving payments start at 1.3% while donations cost 2%; platform fees range from 0% to 4%, depending on the plan chosen and whether one of the fee-based monthly ‘growth packages’ – which include further features, like being displayed prominently on the donations market place – is chosen and paid for. Moreover, the donations marketplace that extracts fees and data fits almost perfectly with the corporate strategy of creating a ‘walled garden’ super-app with its lock-in effect.
Twint thus benefits both symbolically and financially from its collaboration with RaiseNow. It does so through technical, economic, and discursive strategies that are typical for many fintech actors in platform capitalism. Through those strategies, they not only extract financial value, they also become powerful intermediaries.
A ‘better’ way of donating: Twint’s donation marketplace and the production of consumer-donor subjects
To better understand what donating practically means and involves in the context of Twint’s donations marketplace, we will describe its functions by taking a step-by-step tour of the interface, following an individual donor’s ‘journey’ through the app, based on the analytical walkthrough.Footnote 5 In doing so, we apply a ‘systematic approach to identifying cultural discourses that shape and are perpetuated by interface elements’ (Light et al., Reference Light, Burgess and Duguay2018: 888) in order to examine a site where a redistributive imaginary is being produced. Our main analytical interest is in what the Twint donation marketplace ‘does’ and what this means for redistributive imaginaries. As we will see, shaping and interpellating donor-subjects and their imaginary relations to redistributive mechanisms is a particularly important aspect of this.
A donor’s journey
On the Twint smartphone app’s standard home screen, the ‘partner functions’ on the marketplace are displayed in the center, above the four basic functions of sending money, requesting money, splitting bills and the button that leads to the QR scan camera function.
Below the small print ‘partner functions’ and ‘show all’ is a row of four icons representing different functions. A ‘show all’ button leads to more functions. ‘Donating’ appears next to other functions such as ‘parking’, ‘digital vouchers’, ‘SuperDeals’, ‘receive cash’, ‘compare subscriptions’, ‘insurance’, ‘gas 1.0’, or ‘spin & win’ (see Figure 1). Through this setup, Twint flattens the practice of donating: It is presented here initially – almost inevitably so, given the structure of the overall app – as a mundane, profane financial transaction, next to other everyday activities, free from the ideological or theological overtones which are characteristic of some analog practices of donating, such as solidarity funds or church collections.

Figure 1. Twint ‘partner functions’ with donations symbol and link to marketplace.
Source: Screenshot by authors, August 2025.
The donation symbol used here – widespread in the context of donations – is a stylized open hand and a heart that seems to be either held softly by the hand or to emerge from it, symbolizing humanitarian donations and connoting motivations such as goodwill and affection. Notably, it is not a handshake that would instead signal reciprocity and shared activity. The icon in that sense contributes to standardizing the signifiers of this practice and semantically disambiguates the latter.
On the ‘show all’ sub-page, the word ‘donating’ and the donate icon are supplemented by the description: ‘Doing a good deed can be so quick. Donate to a cause you care about.’ Here, three central themes in the discourse of digital donations make their first appearance on our journey: Speed, convenience, and personalization. Twint makes the promise, then, to accelerate and simplify, whilst also paying attention to individual preferences (‘a cause you care about’). These attributes characterize the redistributive mechanism in this imaginary.
Above the partner functions (not shown in the images here), there are ‘spotlights’ – as they are called in internal Twint terminology – tiles that highlight news and lead to selected partner functions or campaigns, including donations. Within the app, these spotlights are the means to direct the attention of the highest number of users. In emergencies such as wars or natural disasters, donation drives may become spotlights. NGOs can pay to be featured in spotlights, which means that organizations with higher budgets and name recognition are positioned advantageously here. As the Twint app is opened around two million times a day (Interview T/R, 2024), in a country of just under nine million inhabitants, the ‘spotlight’ has the potential to reach an audience that may come close to the imagined community of the nation. Twint thus curates and hierarchizes social causes, it directs attention and creates (national) publics.
After tapping the ‘donate’ button, the user is redirected to the twint.trueturn.appFootnote 6 that opens as a browser window within the Twint app (see Figure 2). Its aesthetic is clear and sober. On top of the screen the user sees the word ‘donating’, a search symbol and a personalizable avatar. Below that, dominating the screen visually, are tiles that highlight diverse causes, for example a photo of children in school alongside the words ‘A school desk, a better future’ and the logo of Helpcode, a charity organization. These tiles are designed to be swiped to the right or left, with whichever one is in the center becoming enlarged. Organizations and their causes are thus made accessible, whilst also being, on a technical level, equal and interchangeable, like items in a catalog.

Figure 2. Twint/TrueTurn ‘donate’ screen, with ‘helpcode’ main tile.
Source: Screenshot by authors, November 2025.
A more recent feature specifies the number of people who have donated to this organization through the Twint marketplace so far. Twint thus publicly quantifies support. Below that is the line ‘trending for you’, showing logo tiles of NGOs that are apparently popular right now (again hierarchizing organizations and causes), then ‘discover categories’: six tiles with generic-looking logos for categories of causes, that is, ‘societal’, ‘development cooperation’, ‘health’, ‘animals and environment’, ‘education’, and ‘human rights’. Twint thus orientates, classifies, and presents organizations and causes, thereby specifying some domain boundaries in this redistributive imaginary. Further down are ‘recurring donations’, ‘current hotspots’ (‘emergency aid for affected people’, currently Gaza and Ukraine) and ‘local organizations’ (with a pin symbol that indicates the user’s current location, such as Zurich). Through these options, Twint formats and encourages specific donation rhythms (which is important for many NGOs), and (once more) hierarchizes and localizes them.
Getting closer to the act of donating through this path, clicking on a tile representing an organization, users are directed to a page where they encounter a large photo image – in some cases, a ‘reel’ of moving images – whose subject indexically represents the need for donations (there are many close-ups of children of color, especially in the development aid section). The app displays the NGO’s name and logo, a short, emotive ‘claim’, and a 100-word description about their work and a ‘donate now’ button (see Figure 3). Here, Twint emotionally persuades and informs, while arguably also reinforcing stereotypes through recognizable, racialized humanitarian imagery (Shringarpure, Reference Shringarpure2018).

Figure 3. An organization’s ‘Donate now’ page.
Source: Screenshot by authors, August 2025.
Clicking on the NGO’s logo, another window opens where the user is greeted personally (‘Hello X! Thank you for supporting Y’) and, in some cases, is given the option to choose between donating once or committing to a monthly sum, which is a recently added function (see Figure 4). The user is then presented with the question, ‘How much would you like to donate?’. Three amounts are suggested (for example, CHF 30 – 80 – 140, or 5 – 75 – 175), with the middle number highlighted as the default selection. Alternatively, users can enter an amount in a field below. Some of the other functions differ between participating organizations. In a few cases, for instance, the specific act of support that can be paid for with the chosen amount is explained briefly, accompanied by icons that symbolize that action. Here, Twint personalizes, informs/concretizes, offers choices, administers payment and related information transfers, it explains, and it also nudges (towards a default option).

Figure 4. Select amount page.
Source: Screenshot by authors, August 2025.
The next screen that we encounter on our ‘donor journey’ seems more technical. It confirms the selected amount, asks for the donor’s name, email address (this is optional and depends on the NGO’s chosen fee model) and usually allows the user to request a donation receipt for tax deduction purposes. Some pages also contain a line for typing in a comment that will reach the organization. Again, Twint administers and, to a lesser extent, offers communication. In yet another step, donors are given additional options, such as subscribing to newsletters or paying additionally for Twint and RaiseNow’s service fees, so that 100% of the donation will reach the receiver. The costs that are added here vary significantly and range between about 2% and 6% – in showing these numbers, Twint professes transparency. Furthermore, there are links to data protection policy texts – and there is the donate button that then links to the generic Twint payment page known to all users. Here, one more click is required to initiate the payment procedure (Twint, obviously, both transfers and extracts money), on a screen that has a shopping cart icon at its center, standard for all payments on the app. A few seconds later, a confirmation message, with the NGO as sender address, appears in the user’s email inbox.
Inclusion in the app is reserved exclusively for nonprofit clients who pay for a RaiseNow ‘Growth Package’ – Twint thus restricts, selects, hierarchizes and filters. Overall, 180 ‘verified and trusted’ charities are available for selection on the app. Through its catalog-like design, the interface functions as a marketplace, as a medium for advertising charities and connecting to them. To appear in a ‘spotlight’ the respective NGO is required to pay an extra fee, although in emergency situations like the outbreak of Ukraine war, this fee may be waved. Push-notifications may be sent to users who have consented to receiving them (here, Twint alarms), but the company stresses its cautious use of this technology to avoid becoming connected to politically controversial positions. None of these mechanisms are obvious for users – Twint informs selectively.
Users entering the marketplace are encouraged to create an account for a more personalized user experience. It remains unclear to what extent they make use of this. The Twint CEO reports that, at this stage, the majority of donors use the QR code scan option, so between 7% and 8% of Twint’s total donations volume is generated on the app’s marketplace as described (Interview T/R, 2024). This implies that in 2023, the transaction volume on the marketplace would have been approximately 9 million Swiss francs. It is reasonable for the company to assume that this proportion will increase rapidly over the coming years – though this of course remains a business wager.
Curated consumer sovereignty and the performance of a market
The walkthrough documents the affordances of a donations market on a payment app. Flattening, standardizing, disambiguating, promising (acceleration and simplicity), curating, hierarchizing, making accessible and interchangeable, publicly quantifying, classifying, formatting, localizing, informing, emotionally persuading, offering choices, advertising, administering, transferring, extracting, nudging, communicating, restricting, selecting, filtering, alarming. The list of verbs that we chose to describe what the donation platform ‘does’ certainly is not complete or fully systematic, but it gives an impression of its complexity and also of its potential power to shape – algorithmically or on a case-by-case basis – who and which causes are presented and hierarchized in what ways. This is a form of political power.
Semiotically, the experience of using the app moves between two extremes. The aesthetic is neutral, infrastructural, generic – simple and sleek design, a conservative color scheme (blue and white), standardized graphics iconography. At the same time, the use of photos, moving imagery and claims is highly emotional. The interface appears to be designed to square the circle of providing bank-like neutrality on the one hand and affective persuasion on the other.
In concluding this section, we want to highlight two aspects that are crucial to the production of a redistributive imaginary on this interface: the interpellation of donor-subjects and the specification of redistributive mechanisms – on a meta-level – as market-like.
The technical design of the interface, characterized by its ‘flattened’ and interchangeable tiles and lists, revolves around presenting users with a range of choices. This setup addresses – in the language of theories of subjectivation, interpellates (Althusser, Reference Althusser and Althusser1971), and thus ‘calls into being’ – donors as consumer-subjects who select options from a catalog according to their individual preference. It thereby evokes and creates a form of transactional consumer sovereignty, but a sovereignty that is – as in similar platforms that are created for shopping – highly curated. In making their selections, users rely on content provided and hierarchized by the platform’s designers and are steered by a choice architecture that has been deliberately constructed. Its design reflects recommendations from practice-oriented research on choice architectures, such as pre-selecting default charities for donations, a strategy shown to increase the number of donors (Schulz, Thiemann, and Thöni, 2017). The analogy with apps for ordering food or online shopping isn’t far-fetched, as they share substantial aesthetic and functional similarities. The three default amounts for donations displayed by the platform, for instance, are reminiscent of in-app or POS-station tipping options (such as, 5%, 10%, 20%). Donations-based redistribution is thus reconfigured, through platform design features, as curated in an e-commerce-like environment.
This brings us to a closely related point. It seems self-evident, but is remarkable and culturally consequential all the same, that Twint’s donation ‘partner function’ platform assembles NGOs and their causes into a marketplace catalog and frames the redistributive mechanism in terms of a market. Phenomenologically speaking, this is not how donors have encountered organizations and their causes previously. Rather, donors may have had long-established relations and ties with them based on values, faith, or biography. Organizations send analog mailings or e-mails, appear on TV or in an advertisement in public space, or on a website, their representatives approach people on the street. But outside of apps, they usually do not come in catalogs where they compete for attention in a homogenous space, curated for that purpose by seemingly neutral entities. Assembling them in this way makes a difference to how redistribution is practiced and imagined.
Economists and fundraising consultants have long described the competition for donations as a market (Roddy, Strange, and Taithe, Reference Roddy, Strange and Taithe2019; Barnett, Reference Barnett2022). We argue that this rhetoric has also been performative, producing a market through economic devices (Callon, Reference Callon and Callon1998), rather than merely describing a pre-existing reality. Approaching charitable giving in terms of supply, demand, and vendor competition is a market imaginary, not a given fact. This is not to deny market-like dynamics in fundraising, but to emphasize the categorical shift that is furthered by platform-based digital infrastructures, which follow distinct technical and financial logics. On the app, where users can swipe through ‘tiles’ of NGOs, digital technology turns the imagined donations marketplace into an infrastructural reality – one that, in line with Jasanoff and Kim’s (Reference Jasanoff and Kim2009: 120) notion of future-oriented and normative imaginaries, fuels evolving ideas of what redistribution through donations is, may become and should be. Through everyday usage, its normalization effects and digital technology’s connotations of the ‘good’ and ‘contemporary’, platforms like the one examined here entice their users to practically enact and accept this imaginary.
Framing ‘good’ technology: Better markets, better people, better future?
We now turn to a second site where imaginations about redistribution are being produced: the discursive framing of the donation platform’s activities as put forward by the ‘tech elites’ driving its development. For this purpose, we explicate statements from an interview by Twint’s CSO and RaiseNow’s CEO (Interview T/R, 2024) and contextualize them with insights from the platform analysis, newspaper sources, and relevant critical literature.
This will illuminate assumptions and motivations underlying the platform’s design, the consequences of which we have analyzed in the previous section. We will follow three discursive threads across these two sites: Firstly, we will refine our analysis of how redistributive mechanisms are constructed to serve irrefutable, nonpolitical goals. Secondly, we will show how the donation app’s design is informed by theories of human motivation and behavior and is made meaningful in relation to ideas about the (‘good’) donor subject. Thirdly, these threads will lead us deeper into the relational element of this redistributive imaginary, to explore how platform-enabled donating improves relations between donors, their causes and society. We will thus further interpret crucial elements of the redistributive imaginary, disambiguating what has remained somewhat vague in the ‘thinner’ data of the platform analysis.
How better markets maximize revenue
The professed philanthro-entrepreneurial promise of the payment app’s donation function, including the marketplace, is to ‘maximise’ the overall volume of donations for worthy causes. RaiseNow’s CEO describes his enterprise’s mission as raising ‘as much donation money as possible for projects that really help us to support the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals’ (Interview T/R, 2024) – the latter serving as a stand-in for ethical, seemingly non-controversial and thereby nonpolitical aims.
This ethical rationality is supported by – and merges with – an economic one. Twint’s CSO’s explanation of the collaboration with RaiseNow foregrounds a market logic rationale:
If you look at how donations have been made in the past, you almost see a market failure. A market failure always occurs when there is a supply and a demand, but the target state is not optimal. This has been the case to some extent, because of course a lot of effort has been put into getting people to donate, through communication, poster campaigns, mailings, and of course there have been very big hurdles to actually trigger a donation. And in that respect, we believe that we are doing a good thing for the NGO world together with RaiseNow, that these barriers are being reduced and the market failure is being reduced. (Twint CSO in Interview T/R, 2024)
Both interview partners agree that conventional fundraising was stuck in a state of ‘market failure’ – unmet demand – which their digital solution now allows to fix. When advertising themselves to ‘the NGO world’ as a ‘good thing’ that reduces fundraising costs, they implicitly respond to public criticism. In 2022, for instance, a headline on Swiss public media asked rhetorically: ‘Is someone making a fortune from the donations for Ukraine?’ (Wüthrich, Reference Wüthrich2022). RaiseNow’s CEO retorts to such criticism by arguing that payment apps are ‘extremely effective’ for fundraisers compared to old media, especially direct mailings (Interview T/R, 2024).
Overall, the arguments presented here smoothly integrate RaiseNow’s social entrepreneurship perspective with the broader ‘digital solutionist’ narrative that digital technology and capitalist enterprise are inherently ‘good’ because they will efficiently solve humanity’s problems. According to this imaginary of a tech-enabled redistributive mechanism, good technology fosters a market which more closely approximates economists’ models and is therefore better, leading in turn to increased funding for worthy causes and thus a better (and more ethical) world. Funds for redistribution will flow easily and abundantly once ‘barriers’ to efficient mechanisms are taken down – a core idea of philanthro-capitalism (McGoey, Reference McGoey2012). As we explore next, within this imaginary, redistributive mechanisms are bound up with a particular conception of donor subjectivity, as barriers are framed not merely as technological but also as cognitive, psychological, and ultimately anthropological. These latter barriers, too, are expected to be ‘fixed’ by means of technology and design.
How seamless processes turn the fallible donor-subject into a post-sovereign, ethical self
Convenience, simplicity, and speed are master signifiers in Twint’s self-representation: the app ‘stands for simplicity per se and is a good companion for all the different situations in life where something is associated with payment’ (Interview T/R, 2024), as RaiseNow’s CEO states. This includes standardized, recognizable action sequences on the app’s standard payment screen when initiating a money transfer – irrespective of whether one uses the donations marketplace or accesses it via a QR code or similar paths.
The app is portrayed as offering donors a smooth, frictionless process that, crucially, begins the moment they feel concerned about a cause and motivated to help. Reducing barriers is equated with increasing speed. Organizations are promised to benefit from merging the ‘call to action’ – for example, a poster on a public bus, an online advertisement, a push notification or a ‘spotlight’ on the Twint app’s main screen – with the actual act of donating, creating a seamless, frictionless process via the app. A QR code scan or click provides a bridge between these environments. Without barriers – without being distracted, forgetful, or held back by cumbersome tasks such as searching for suitable recipients or entering bank details – the donor-subject can finally do what they have always wanted to do, but, without digital technology, had too often failed to follow through. The claims for convenience and simplicity translate into seamlessness, which, in this mode of thinking, is a strategy for overcoming irrational elements of human psychology and cognitive shortcomings that keep people from acting on choices that they have already made:
Because I believe that there is nothing worse than charging up a user (einen User aufzuladen), charging up in the figurative sense of course, to anchor the commitment and the call to action, but then he just forgets to make the payment in the evening when he is at home on his e-banking. And I think that combining the call to action with the action itself is what Twint has done with RaiseNow, and it has been very successful. (Twint’s CSO in Interview T/R, 2024)
The wording einen User aufzuladen – ‘charging up a user’ – is not idiomatically established in German. It sounds like a jargony translation from English. Here, it implies a technical and instrumentalist version of persuasive communication: ‘charging up’ (advertising) as a stimulus that, with a certain, statistically-measurable likelihood, triggers a response (donating). In contrast with the ‘worst case’ sketched out in this statement, the architecture of the payment app and its donations functions allows the ‘charged-up’ donor to seamlessly direct a payment. Doing so, in this view, is coterminous with unfolding their better, more ethical self.
The anthropological assumptions about subjectivity that underpin this rhetoric, along with the technical mechanisms that are designed in its vein, mirror models of behavioral psychology, behavioral economics, and neuroeconomics. The latter blames the ‘shortsighted brain’ (Dow Schüll and Zaloom, Reference Dow Schüll and Zaloom2011) for behavior that seems irrational and counterproductive, such as near-time orientation or not following through on decisions already made. ‘Because people are humans not econs’, as ‘nudging’ proponent Richard H. Thaler famously put it, ‘they make predictable errors’ (Thaler, Reference Thaler2015: 325) – and their seeming individual sovereignty appears, to self-described libertarian paternalists like Thaler, illusionary, and in need of a technological fix. The rationality of the donation-willing subject is imagined as constrained, in line with Herbert Simon’s concept of ‘limited rationality’ (Reference Simon1957). Both the overall ‘seamless’ digital payment procedure and, more specifically, Twint’s marketplace interface are designed to anticipate and mitigate ‘errors’ of fallible consumer-subjects, facilitating ‘doing good’ by seamlessness and through a choice architecture that curates, standardizes, flattens, selects, hierarchizes, filters, and nudges, as we have shown in the previous section. The technological and discursive set-up of the platform environment as ‘controlled freedom’, in the sense described by Lena Pellandini-Simányi and Leonardo Conte (Reference Pellandini-Simányi and Conte2021: 295), appears as Twint/RaiseNow’s answer to the assumption that ‘limited rationality and thus the inability to assume full responsibility is considered to be people’s inherent, unchangeable nature’ and ‘thus treated as something to reckon and work with rather than to be changed’. Working with this is primarily a matter of addressing cognitive mechanisms that are assumed to take place outside of conscious, reflexive thought.
As we have seen, the platform is positioned as both neutral and engaged for the uncontroversially ‘good’, as an infrastructure that features tools that help users follow their hearts’ desires and unburden the cognitively overwhelmed individual. Through the explanations given by the spokespeople, it becomes apparent that the figure of the sovereign consumer – known as ‘the key actor in the neoliberal political paradigm’ (Olsen, Reference Olsen2019: 295) – is reconfigured here as a cognitively imperfect but ‘good’, prosocial and ethical agent who is now offered participation in a good reallocation of resources in society supported by good tech. In line with solutionism, this rationality is narrated as ‘serving’ the donor best: ‘Actually, that is what everyone wants. They want to be served so well that they can put their money where their hearts are’ (RaiseNow’s CEO in Interview T/R, 2024).
There is a noteworthy ambiguity in the way the platform user is addressed in this context, and how the motivations for redistributive practices and relevant social relations are imagined. The ideal type of the donor is hyper-autonomous: all alone with their smartphones, socially disembedded and disconnected from deliberative discourses or potential controversies surrounding the ‘causes’. These donors are committed only to ‘their hearts’, to be precise: each to their own and only heart. The heart, however, figures as a set of (potentially hidden) preferences as envisaged by economic theory, and the sovereignty of the imperfect subject is seen as something that is expressed not in their actual but in their potential, technologically ‘perfected’ acts. For this reason, we speak of a post-sovereign imaginary of donor subjectivity.
The reconfiguration of subjectivity under discussion here is situated in a broader shift in governmentality related to the everyday use of financial technology that goes beyond the realm of donations. Studying regulation regimes of financialization, Pellandini-Simányi and Conte (Reference Pellandini-Simányi and Conte2021: 296) critically observe the formation of a ‘hybrid governance system’ that combines neoliberal governmentality (Foucault, Reference Foucault2008; Dean, Reference Dean1999) with choice engineering ‘to force the actual consumers – of limited rationality – to make the choices that the ideal (autonomous, rational, responsible) consumer, unconstrained by ‘behavioural biases’, would make’. In the case of donations, the choices to be made by post-sovereign subjects on the platform, aided by data-based supportive design features (be it suggested donation amounts or the highlighting of NGOs that are currently popular), are envisaged to be ‘good’ choices in an ethical sense, and also more rational ones, in the sense of acting upon impulses that emanate ‘from the heart’ and its deeply held preferences.
How personalization and democratization fuel a better future
Digital donation platforms like Twint’s contain a promise for a better future for the relations between donors, the causes to which they want to contribute and society more broadly: A promise of redistribution through donations that includes dialog and participation.
Twint’s CSO states that the payment app creates a ‘democratisation of payment’ – everyone can pay and, more importantly, be paid, digitally. This wording evokes the well-worn ideological discourse of a ‘fintech revolution’ that is ‘democratizing finance’ (Laboure and Deffrennes, Reference Laboure and Deffrennes2022) by making financial services and tools accessible (Bernards, Reference Bernards2023). However, the Twint app’s presumed democratizing impact goes beyond making digital payment accessible. Following the storyline foregrounded by Twint/RaiseNow, the platform also expands and improves civic – and in that sense democratic – participation.
This presumed expansion of participatory relations hinges on data-enabled processes that allow the platform to engage with what we have come to know as the post-sovereign donor’s ‘heart’. ‘Personalisation’ is the key term that allows Twint/RaiseNow to mobilize an imaginary that conflates choice engineering with participation and, in the next step, tech-enabled dialog. In the following interview section, RaiseNow’s CEO is answering a question about future scenarios along those lines.
In principle, I firmly believe (…) that it will become increasingly easier for me to donate where I really have a connection with it, in other words: personalisation. Ease of use or frictionless giving, as I call it, will increase. This means that Twint is a pioneer in how easy it can be (…) Permanent donations will be possible. You can donate to a specific cause, I no longer have to deal with the organisation per se, but I can donate to a specific cause, [imitation of conversation] ‘I support education in Africa’ [end of imitation] and then there are simply several organisations that provide projects for this. (…) Alternative forms to the classic charity will emerge that will create better and hyper-personalised experiences with more aggregation and more data understanding. (RaiseNow’s CEO in Interview T/R, 2024)
The datafication logic of platform capitalism plays a key role in this scenario; user data – which is available to payment platforms – is a prerequisite for personalization, which subsequently generates further data. To grasp the imaginary of this ‘hyper-personalized’ future and the relations it affords, stories are useful devices (Mützel, Reference Mützel2021: 289). In line with this, the RaiseNow CEO introduces a fictive donor-figure to illustrate the promise of choice and dialog.
Today, I receive a letter in a household, and the only personalisation is that the name is spelled correctly in the salutation. That’s it. There is no dialogue at all. Today, we are in the age where the donor is seen as a cash machine. [Imitation] ‘Dear Ettore, I need money again, give me money, give me money, give me money.’ [end of imitation] But there is no dialogue, no one is saying, [Imitation] ‘Ettore, what are you actually interested in?’ ‘What are the possibilities, where can you help to create an impact more efficiently?’ [end of imitation] In my opinion, that is what will happen. (RaiseNow’s CEO in Interview T/R, 2024)
Formerly passivized and used as a mere ‘cash machine’ by the fundraising industry, Ettore now figures as an agentive subject and a partner in dialog. In this scenario, donating money is primarily about the donor him- or herself and what they are ‘actually interested in’.
The redistributive imaginary that is being sketched out here is not only about mechanisms that create abundance – more donated money – and efficiency, as we have shown so far, or about improving the conditions under which ethical donor-subjectivities can flourish, despite their anthropologically imperfect nature. It also engenders fairer, more participatory, more dialogic, less hierarchical, more democratic, again: ethico-politically ‘better’ relations – a process where the platform and its donor-user are on a level, rather than the donor becoming instrumentalized.
Stories like these are not just off-the-cuff illustrative narrations but part of company strategy and platform design. The latter contains features like user accounts with donation histories that enable personalized suggestions, and options to send written messages to accompany the donation. Other personalization options – such as thematic funds or donor-advised funds – have not yet been realized.
In the discursive context of Twint and RaiseNow, promises of a ‘democratization of payment’ and of ‘better’, more dialogic relations resonate with a strand of social enterprise rhetoric that gestures towards the political. In the interview, donating money is promoted by RaiseNow’s CEO not only as an opportunity to ‘take part in helping (mithelfen)’, but also as an easy way to ‘show solidarity’ (Interview T/R, 2024). Claiming to have ‘built a technology that basically empowers every woman, every man, to be able to help’ while on its website rhetorically committing itself ‘to creat[ing] a just world for all’ (RaiseNow, 2025), the platform and its operators draw heavily from vocabularies of political changemaking. The current website of RaiseNow’s fundraising services describes the company’s mission as ‘enabling people to contribute to a better world through their daily (trans-)actions’ (TrueTurn, 2025). This phrase playfully suggests a semantic fusion of activism and payment. Through discursive manoeuvres like these, people’s participation in processes of societal transformation – which we could view as the substance of the political – is shifted onto the donations platform.
However, against this backdrop of a rhetoric of political change, the platform’s vision of dialog and deliberation ultimately represents a very limited interpretation – or appropriation – of these concepts: The proposed dialog between Ettore, the app and ‘his’ causes essentially amounts to a data-driven management of consumer preferences. More extensive notions of furthering democratic processes through deliberative reasoning, collective decision-making, let alone antagonistic politics that aim to ‘rectify’, as RaiseNow puts it, an unjust allocation of resources, or engage in critique of structural inequalities, all of which may be implied by terms such as empowerment and justice, are far from this picture.
While charitable giving has always been imbued with the non- and even antipolitical, it is worth noting that the post-humanitarian imaginary that is produced here removes prosocial activity ever further from the field of contestation and conflict, befitting the post-political configuration. Despite the prominence of gestures towards the political in this discourse, and despite the irreducibly political effects of what Twint and RaiseNow do, the demos of the democratization invoked here is a rather unpolitical, depoliticized entity – and it is, as we have seen, approached as individualized, conflict-averse and in need of guidance by corporate stewards and their technology. Against this backdrop, the consumer-donor whom we have been following through the marketplace interface now turns into a consumer-citizen (Clarke et al., Reference Clarke, Newman, Smith, Vidler and Westmarland2007). What Robert DeChaine (Reference DeChaine, Givoni, Ross and Orgad2021: 311) describes as a ‘neoliberalized civic imaginary – a moral economy that asks us to buy into humanity’ finds a complement in an imaginary of nonpolitical redistribution where platforms benevolently encourage post-sovereign consumer-citizens to ‘tap-donate’ into democratic participation.
There is also a temporal and spatial reductionism involved in this promise of participation through seamless and personalized technology. The ideal of bypassing cognitive and life-world hurdles or barriers and the ‘fetishization of action’ (Madianou, Reference Madianou2013) and instantaneity propagated within this platform imaginary, have serious downsides for democratic deliberation and for a critical inquiry into the roots of societal problems, which may well require other temporalities and spaces for collective reflection and action. In her ethnography of cognitive psychology, an academic field whose work is highly influential for platform design, Emily Martin argues that the centering of psychology’s ‘punctural time’ or ‘brief reaction time’ fosters a solutionist quick-fix culture that prevents people from engaging in moral or political considerations. The latter, however, may need ‘‘slow time’ to emerge’ (Martin, Reference Martin2022: 237).
Conclusion: The post-sovereign consumer-citizen imaginary
In this article, we empirically investigated a donations marketplace on a payment app. We used this analysis to sketch out an emergent redistributive imaginary, for which we suggest the term post-sovereign consumer-citizen imaginary. In portraying this emergent imaginary – which holds broader significance as ‘finance becomes tech’ and ‘tech does good’ – we expanded existent research on social imaginaries of financial and other economic practices and, specifically, on a ‘post-humanitarian sensibility’ that characterizes charitable giving in digital contexts.
On Twint’s donations marketplace and in the discourse co-constituting it, digital giving is represented as a form of consumption-like democratic participation in which post-sovereign consumer-citizens help ease suffering and shape society through ‘tap-donating’, assisted by platforms, which are taking a leading role in this process. By focusing on mechanisms, subjects, and relations of redistribution within this imaginary, our analysis shows how redistribution is represented and materially afforded – thereby flattening, hierarchizing, and curating societal causes – and how platforms nudge, ‘alarm’, and interpellate donor subjects as citizen-consumers. Hence, through the practices they afford, platforms seize the power to define what charitable redistribution is – its mechanisms, its imagined subjects and the social relations it generates – and how it works. Combining the analysis of the app itself with insights from an interview with key decision makers in this field, we have shown that the imaginary of redistribution emerging from this configuration is characterized by market-based ideals of efficiency, a bounded-rationality model of the human and a tech-solutionist, reductionist idea of democratic participation. Importantly, this redistributive imaginary is not only represented on the app’s semiotic surfaces and in the surrounding discourse, it becomes materially tangible, stabilized, and normalized through the everyday use of payment apps and similar technology. Ultimately, this imaginary is beneficial for platforms’ attempts to control, and extract value from, financial transactions of all kinds.
Through this analysis and the heuristic framework we have developed for it, we also refine methodological approaches for studying and comparing redistributive imaginaries more generally. The research we have presented in this article is, to our knowledge, the first socio-cultural investigation of a donations marketplace on a payment app. While it is too early to determine how many donations such in-app marketplaces will manage to attract in the future, we expect similar imaginaries to surface in related contexts and to grow in significance as digital payment forms, developed by fintech firms, continue to become entrenched in everyday life.
Furthermore, our insights confirm findings from academic writing on the ‘ethic of digital capitalism’, updating and expanding them by examining key semantic strategies and their intertwinement with technology in this context. As we were tracing the discursive and technological construction of a better ‘donor journey’, better companies, better markets, better subjects and a better future, it became evident that the socio-cultural work to construct, animate and legitimize the post-sovereign consumer-citizen redistributive imaginary invokes a constant slippage between different semantics of the ‘good’. ‘Good’ technology, then, is not only represented as being more convenient and more efficient, but also more attuned to the user’s inner authenticity, more conducive to positive feelings, more aesthetically pleasant, more contemporary and more ethical. In this context, ‘good’ is characterized by the blending of technical, aesthetic, psychological and evaluative-ethical semantics. ‘Good’, new technology is presented as inevitably shaping the future, hence determining what we call the redistributive imaginary’s vector of change. These semantics are ideologically functional for payment apps and tech-for-good more broadly, as they help establish a common sense (in the Gramscian sense of the term) in which the experientially smooth, the aesthetically pleasant, the practically convenient and the technologically new are closely tied to and even merge with – a very limited sense of – the ethico-politically good, as we have shown. Given ‘digital capitalism’s recent legitimation crisis’ (Nachtwey and Seidl, Reference Nachtwey and Seidl2023: 106) in the context of resource extractivism, monopolization, and intertwinement with authoritarian government, in the USA in particular, tech companies – especially those with monopolistic status and extractive business models – need to polish their image and spark their ‘ethical glow’. Our investigation unpacks some of the strategies through which engagement in the prosocial sector benefits the techified financial industry itself.
While our research was primarily cultural, what is under investigation here has consequences that span multiple domains. Culturally, supported by technology, the metaphor of the ‘donation market’ is turned into an infrastructural reality that is experienced and practically engaged with in everyday life. Economically, revenue streams and profits are redirected through the platform’s strategic gluing together of banks, (bank-owned) fintechs, and the nonprofit landscape. Presented as win-win-win, platformization drives dependencies and entangles ‘doing good’ more closely with finance and the payment industry. When promoting prosocial giving, these platforms are simultaneously pursuing material interests: expanding market share, capitalizing on the ‘ethical glow’ and establishing a foundation for present and future data-driven capital accumulation. Politically, it is significant that through the rise of donations platforms and payment apps, nonprofit actors become (more) dependent on quasi-monopolistic financial intermediaries’ decisions and terms of use, which enables – and, to an extent, forces – the latter to shape genuinely political decision-making-processes about who is and who is not given fundraising opportunities, where and how prominently they are featured, raising questions as to terms of use, potential favoritism, reactions to political pressure, or even censorship. Furthermore, a limited, post-political understanding of civic engagement is promoted and infrastructurally supported.
In studying fields like this, it is important to take local and national contexts into account and to not limit the analysis to the big players of Silicon Valley. Our analysis demonstrated that connecting to a positive national self-image, anchoring the platform in the local and distancing it from foreign tech behemoths, contributed to the success of the payment app that is at the center of this study. In the context of Switzerland, it was the strong and well-connected domestic banking sector that drove its development. Furthermore, it is noteworthy that our interlocutors from the tech-sector disavowed radically neoliberal or libertarian worldviews that are prominent in Silicon Valley. They stressed, for example, that they do not wish their work for the charitable sector to encroach too far into welfare state territory. While such distinctions are important, we show how tech-sector rhetoric and thinking nevertheless re-articulate and re-design the field of donations and redistribution in their own, market-oriented image – ideologically and practically, building on and fueled by the logic of platformization.
While we classify the predominant usage of the ‘good’ as ideological and question it, as we have done throughout this article, we are not suggesting that the emergence of donation platforms and donation payments through apps like Twint are, normatively speaking, simply a ‘bad’ development, either. Certainly, they have many pragmatic uses and enhance accessibility of payment for some, and they may even, at some point in the future, increase the volume of donations – or at least, importantly, they help nonprofit fundraising keep step with a world of shifting payment and financing forms and new expectations. In our research with NGOs and other civic groups, we encountered workers and activists who shared a generally positive attitude towards Twint/RaiseNow as, in spite of fees that were perceived to be high, the payment service allowed them to receive donations and other contributions with few administrative and technological hurdles. Crucially, this was also associated with the strengthening of their independence from state and foundation funding with its rules and regulations.
Our point, then, is not an overall judgment, but a critical explication of implications and consequences. In that sense, we note that the emergence and potential spread of the post-sovereign consumer-citizen imaginary of redistribution helps to legitimize the quasi-monopolistic and extractive role of for-profit financial institutions within the nonprofit landscape and contributes to building a world that conforms to the ideology of digital capitalism. Economic capitalist valorization and cultural marketization take hold at the same time. Twint’s collaboration with RaiseNow platformizes the practice of giving and thereby contributes to the ‘appleization’ not only of finance, but also of ‘doing good’. While the crucial empirical question of how people practically and affectively relate to an app such as this, and how they respond to the imaginaries produced on those sites, remained outside of this article’s remit, we argue that the spread of such infrastructures will reinforce the cultural hegemony and naturalization of market-dominated imaginaries.
Funding statement
This research was funded as part of the consortium ‘Redistributive Imaginaries: Digitalisation, Culture, and Prosocial Pontribution’ by ERA-NET CHANSE (Collaboration of Humanities and Social Science in Europe); Swiss National Science Foundation (SNSF) grant number 205655.