Cash is becoming part of how people think about resilience
Across Britain, a quiet but measurable shift is underway: nearly half of all households are tucking away torches, tinned goods, and emergency cash — not out of panic, but out of a growing recognition that the systems underpinning modern life are not invincible. A survey by Link, the ATM network, has given shape to what many have been sensing privately — that in an era of cyber threats, geopolitical instability, and extreme weather, preparedness is no longer the preserve of the eccentric few. It is becoming the common sense of the many.
- Almost half of Britons now keep battery-powered items and stockpiled food at home, with one in six holding emergency cash specifically in case digital payments fail.
- Fears of cyber-attacks, power outages, and war are no longer abstract — they are reshaping how ordinary households think about the week ahead.
- When card and mobile payments fail, most people plan to head to an ATM, but a significant share are already positioned to rely on supplies and cash they have quietly set aside.
- Specialist prepper retailers have seen sustained growth since the Covid lockdowns, suggesting the instinct to prepare, once awakened, does not easily go back to sleep.
- Government guidance and citizen behaviour are converging around the same checklist — tinned food, bottled water, torches, radios — as official and unofficial resilience strategies align.
Walk into a British home today and you might find a battery-powered torch, a cupboard of tinned goods, and a roll of banknotes in a drawer. Nearly half the country is doing something like this — preparing, quietly, for the day when things stop working as expected.
A survey by Link, the network behind Britain's ATMs, has put numbers to the mood. Forty-nine percent of households keep battery-powered items; forty-seven percent have stockpiled tinned food; thirty-seven percent own a power bank; and seventeen percent are holding emergency cash specifically for crisis scenarios. The backdrop is not hard to read — ongoing wars, routine extreme weather, and years of warnings from security experts about the vulnerability of Britain's critical infrastructure to cyber-attack and power failure.
When asked what they would do if card and mobile payments failed, most said they would withdraw cash from an ATM. But many were thinking further ahead: forty-six percent would rely on food already at home, and thirty-six percent would use cash kept in the house. The picture is not one of panic — twenty-seven percent had done nothing at all — but among those who had acted, nearly a quarter had done so within the last three months alone.
Graham Mott of Link observed that cash is becoming central to how people think about resilience. Notably, the government's own Prepare website recommends almost exactly what households are already doing: tinned food, bottled water, torches, radios, power banks. The official and the instinctive have arrived at the same answer. In a world grown visibly more fragile, keeping a torch and some tinned beans and a little cash is no longer eccentric — it is simply ordinary people making ordinary preparations for an increasingly uncertain world.
Walk into a British household these days and you might find a torch that runs on batteries, a cupboard lined with tinned beans, and a roll of banknotes tucked away in a drawer. Nearly half the country is doing something like this—preparing, in their own quiet way, for the day when things stop working the way they're supposed to.
A survey by Link, the network that runs Britain's ATMs, has captured something real about the mood right now. The researchers asked people what they were doing to get ready for what they called a "major disruptive event"—a power outage, a cyber attack, an IT failure, a natural disaster. The answers paint a picture of a nation hedging its bets. Forty-nine percent have battery-powered torches or similar items at home. Forty-seven percent have stockpiled tinned goods. Thirty-seven percent keep a power bank for their phones. One in five has a portable camping stove. Fifteen percent have an analogue radio. And seventeen percent—one in six—are keeping cash hidden away specifically for emergencies.
The backdrop to all this is not hard to find. Wars continue in the Middle East and Ukraine. Extreme weather is becoming routine. Government and security experts have been warning for years that Britain's critical infrastructure—the systems that keep the lights on and the payments flowing—is vulnerable to cyber attack and power failure. People are paying attention. They are drawing their own conclusions about what the world might look like if those warnings come true.
When Link asked what people would actually do if card and mobile payments stopped working in shops, the responses revealed both pragmatism and anxiety. Fifty-four percent said they would simply withdraw cash from an ATM. But others were thinking further ahead: forty-six percent would rely on food they already had at home; thirty-six percent would use cash they kept in the house; fifteen percent would dip into emergency cash reserves they had deliberately set aside. The picture that emerges is of households thinking through scenarios, imagining the friction points, trying to position themselves to cope.
What strikes about the data is not that it shows panic. It does not. Twenty-seven percent of people surveyed had done nothing at all to prepare. But among those who had taken action, twenty-three percent had done so recently—within the last three months. The prepping is not a fringe activity. It is becoming ordinary. Specialist prepper shops have reported booms in business since the Covid lockdowns ended, suggesting that the habit of thinking about disruption, once formed, has stuck.
Graham Mott, Link's director of strategy, framed it plainly: cash is becoming part of how people think about resilience. As concerns about power outages, cyber attacks, and payment system failures grow, more households are keeping emergency money at home. The government's own guidance, published on its Prepare website, essentially endorses this thinking. It recommends tinned food that needs no cooking, bottled water, first aid kits, battery-powered torches and radios, power banks, spare batteries. The official and the unofficial are converging.
What is happening is not irrational. It is a rational response to genuine uncertainty. The world has become visibly more fragile. The systems that people depend on—electricity grids, payment networks, supply chains—are real and can fail. The question is no longer whether disruption is possible, but when, and how bad. In that context, keeping a torch and some tinned beans and a bit of cash feels like basic sense. It is the sound of ordinary people taking ordinary precautions against an extraordinary world.
Citações Notáveis
With rising public concern about threats like power outages, cyber-attacks and disruption to card payments, more people are prepping by keeping some emergency cash at home— Graham Mott, Link's director of strategy
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why now? Why is this happening in 2026 specifically?
Because the threats feel real and close. Ukraine, the Middle East, extreme weather that people are living through. And cyber attacks on infrastructure are no longer theoretical—they're happening. People are connecting the dots.
But isn't this just anxiety? People have always worried.
Some of it is anxiety, sure. But it's also rational. If your payment system goes down, you need cash. If the power fails, a torch matters. The government is telling people to prepare. That gives permission to what people were already thinking.
What does it say about trust in institutions?
It says people don't fully trust that institutions will keep things running smoothly. They're not waiting for the government to save them. They're taking responsibility for their own household.
Is this sustainable? Can people keep doing this indefinitely?
That depends on whether the disruptions actually happen. If nothing major breaks down for years, the prepping might fade. But if there's even one serious incident—a real power outage, a cyber attack that hits payments—it will accelerate. People will see they were right to prepare.
Who's most likely to be doing this?
The survey doesn't break it down that way, but you'd expect it's people who can afford to stockpile, who have space, who've thought about these scenarios. Not everyone has the luxury of keeping emergency cash or a spare camping stove.
What happens to the economy if half the country stops trusting the payment system?
That's the real question. If cash becomes central to how people think about resilience, that changes everything about how money moves, how retail works, how banks operate. It's a slow shift, but it's happening.