In the Age of Tap to Pay, the Old Cash Donation Box Finds New Life as a Contactless Donation Box
- Jack Spencer
- Jul 14
- 3 min read
LONDON — On a drizzly Thursday morning, the foyer of a London Homeless Shelter hums with the slow rhythm of routine. Volunteers stack canned goods. A kettle hisses. And near the entrance, half-hidden under a rack of donated coats, sits a small acrylic box—the kind that once rattled with spare change, the quiet heart of small kindnesses.

Now, it is mostly silent.
Inside, three tarnished coins lie awkwardly askew, their presence more ceremonial than charitable. A volunteer, Mary, glances at the box and sighs. “People don’t carry cash anymore,” she says, shaking her head. “But we leave the box out. Makes it look like we’re still trying.”
In cities around the world, nonprofits, shelters, and places of worship face the same problem: the humble donation box, long a symbol of community giving, has become a relic. As society edges further into a cashless economy, the loose change that once funded hot meals, schoolbooks, and winter coats has slowed to a trickle. Charities know it, and donors do too. They just don’t know what to do about it.
That is, until Superspree came along.
Just when the donation box seemed doomed to obscurity, a modest marvel called the Superspree Loop arrived on the scene—less like a thunderclap and more like a whisper. But in the nonprofit world, it’s being hailed as nothing short of a miracle.
Developed by a small with roots in the social impact sector, the Superspree Loop is a sleek, palm-sized device that adheres to any donation box. Within minutes, the box becomes a contactless donation point. No app. No log-in. Just a simple tap of a phone and funds are transferred directly to the organization’s account.
"It's elegant, really," says Amiee L, Superspree’s Head of Community and former charity fundraiser. "We didn’t want to reinvent donation culture—we just wanted to upgrade it for the times."
Back at the Shelter, the change was almost instant. The Superspree Loop arrived one rainy Tuesday in April, delivered with little fanfare and no instruction manual longer than a postcard. A volunteer peeled off the adhesive backing and pressed it to the side of the dusty plastic box. Within five minutes, a laminated sign read: “Tap your phone to donate: £5.”
By Friday, the coins were still there—but so were dozens of new names in the donation log. Small donations began to arrive in real time: £2 from someone on their way to the train. £5 from a mother pushing a stroller. £10 from a man who once stayed at the shelter himself.
“We collected more in one week than we had in the past two months,” says Mary, blinking in disbelief. “And nobody had to fish through their pockets.”
Across the UK, churches, libraries, animal sanctuaries—even community choirs—are sticking Superspree Loops to their worn-out collection tins. An animal rescue organisation, which once joked that its donation jar was just a paperweight, saw weekly donations jump fivefold after installing the Loop. At one downtown cathedral, contactless giving during Sunday services now outpaces traditional cash offerings.
What makes the Superspree Loop so effective, experts say, is its simplicity. “You’re standing there with your phone in your hand. You see the box. You tap. You give. No guilt, no friction. That immediacy is powerful.”
Nonprofits that once depended on spare change to buy bus fare or baby formula are now dreaming bigger. “We’re budgeting for winter gloves in July,” Mary says. “That’s never happened before.”
There is, undeniably, something bittersweet about this evolution. The tinkle of coins in a plastic box, the feeling of giving something tactile—those are rituals not easily replaced. But Superspree doesn’t want to erase the donation box. It just wants to give it a future.
Because generosity is not outdated. Just the way we deliver it.
And sometimes, even the quietest little box deserves a second act.




Comments