The magnificent Swiss 10-centime coin

The Swiss 10-centime coin has a lot to teach us about monetary economics.

On its face, the Swiss 10-centime (rappen in German) looks like a pretty unremarkable coin. It's the second-lowest value Swiss coin, the Swiss version of America's lowly nickel, the sort of coin that many people might prefer to throw in a jar and forget about. But I recently learnt via @alea on Twitter that the 10-centime has the distinction of being the oldest original coin in circulation, its size, design and composition remaining unchanged since 1879.

Below are the 1879 and 2023 versions. They're exactly the same.

It's the stability of the coin's composition in particular that strikes me. Since its debut almost 150 years ago, the 10-centime has contained three grams of cupronickel—75% copper and 25% nickel. The only exception was from 1932 to 1939, when it was made of pure nickel. 

The U.S. five-cent coin, or the "nickel," has also had a remarkably long period of stability. Debuting in 1866 as a five gram cupronickel coin comprised of 75% copper and 25% nickel, the nickel has maintained the same metal content throughout its entire existence (except for the wartime five-cent coin), although unlike the 10-centime it has undergone a few decorative changes.

What makes the enduring stability of the Swiss 10-centime and the American nickel so unique is that it runs contra to the dominant coinage timeline, which typically involves a series of changes to a coin's metallic content over time. The main reason that coin compositions have been prone to change is that the global economy has generally been characterized by inflation, or a rising price level. With coins, this has had the unfortunate effect of steadily pushing the market value of their metal content higher, to the point that it eventually exceeds the coin's face value.

When this happens Gresham's law takes hold. It becomes profitable for speculators to melt the coin down in order to sell it as raw metal, the coin disappearing from circulation. Gresham's law, you may recall, is the dictum that when the official value of a monetary instrument is set too low, then it will be hoarded or exported, the "good" money being driven out leaving only what remains – the "bad" money – to circulate in its place. As a result, coin shortages occur and it becomes harder for the consumers and retailers to conduct basic commerce. 

In the early 1960s, for instance, a big rise in the price of silver led to hoarding of U.S. dimes and quarters, which at the time were 90% silver and 10% copper.

Source: New York Times (1964)

To prevent coins from being tossed into the melting pot and causing shortages, governments have typically reminted them out of cheaper material once their metal value approaches their face value. That's indeed what the U.S. monetary authorities did in 1965 with the Coinage Act, when they decided to henceforth mint new dimes and quarters out of cupronickel rather than silver.

Another reason for the regular alterations in coin metal content is to protect the mint's profits, which typically flow through to the government. Buying raw metal is one of a mint's largest costs, so when metal price rise, mint officials search around for cheaper types of metal. Either that or they reduce the size of the coin itself.

After commodity prices boomed in the 1970s, the 10-centime coin's smaller cousin, the Swiss 5-centime – produced from two grams of cupronickel since 1879 – was replaced by an aluminum-bronze version made of 92% copper, 6% aluminum, and 2% nickel. Nickel is a relatively pricey metal, so subbing it out with cheaper materials not only prevented the 5-centime coin from ever reaching its melting point, but also protected the Swissmint's profits.

Canada's 5-cent coin has gone through even more compositional changes than Switzerland's 5-centime. Beginning life in 1858 as a sterling silver coin, the five cent coin was diluted to 80% silver in 1919, got converted to pure nickel in 1922, then cupronickel in 1982, and finally became 94.5% steel in 1999—steel being by far the cheapest of these materials.

Monetary headroom

The 10-centime coin has avoided these transformations. You can see why in the chart below, which illustrates the market value of the nickel and copper making up the 10-centime going back to its original minting in 1879.

When it was created in 1879, the 10-centime had just 1.2 centimes worth of cupronickel in it. That effectively gave the coin a massive amount of metallic "headroom," or space between its metal content and its face value—8.8 centime's worth.

Zoom forward 150 years or so to 2024 and the market value of this three grams of cupronickel has more than doubled from 1.2 centimes to 2.8 centimes. That's a big jump, but still far below – 7.2 centime's worth – the coin's ten-centime face value. Given that plenty of headroom remains, Gresham's law won't be kicking in any time soon. I'd hazard that the cupronickel 10-centime has a few more decades of life, unless the Swiss give up on using cash before then and simply cancel their coinage altogether.

The 10-centime's fat amount of historic headroom isn't the only factor driving its endurance. Another factor has been the relative strength of the franc, Switzerland's monetary unit, composed of 100 centimes. To illustrate this, let's take a look at its competitor, the American five-cent piece.

Not worth a nickel

Below, I've charted out the market value of the five-cent coin's metallic content going back to 1879.

Back in 1879, the nickel had just 0.4¢ worth of copper and nickel in it, giving it a massive 4.6¢ worth of monetary headroom. But over the decades that headroom has been entirely eaten up by inflation. In 2006 the nickel's metallic content exploded above its face value for the first time, and again in 2011. Since 2020 this state of affairs seems to have become permanent, with the value of the metal currently clocking in at 5.5 cents, around fourteen-times higher than 1879.

The high price of the nickel's metal content has been eating into the U.S. Mint's profits. The chart below shows the amount of seigniorage, or profit, that each coin provides to the mint. Seigniorage is the difference between the face value and cost of producing coinage.

Source: US Mint 2023 annual report

As you can see, in 2023 the U.S. Mint lost an incredible $93 million producing nickels! It hasn't made a profit on the five-cent coin in almost twenty years. That the nickel's metal mix hasn't been updated despite almost two decades of consecutive losses indicates bureaucratic failure. Something at the U.S. Mint is broken.

At the same time, we are seeing signs of the nickel falling prey to Gresham's law as hoarders remove them from circulation. A few years ago, investment manager Kyle Bass, who made his fame shorting various mortgage-related instruments during the 2008 credit crisis, bought 20 million nickels in anticipation of eventually melting them down and selling them for more than their face value. In a conversation with me on Twitter, Bass confirms he still keeps the nickels at a storage facility.

I do other business with the storage facility. My agreement is in basis points of value (less than 25bps) and not sq ft.

— 🇺🇸 Kyle Bass 🇹🇼 (@Jkylebass) February 27, 2024

No doubt other speculators have adopted the same strategy. As metal prices inevitably continue to rise, expect serous shortages of nickels going forward, unless the U.S. Mint finally decides to do something about the problem.

Let's bring the 10-centime back into the conversation. By all rights, the 10-centime should have had a much shorter life than the U.S. nickel. In 1879, the nickel was the more valuable of the two coins by a long shot. At the time, the going exchange rate was one U.S. cent to five Swiss centimes, which means a nickel was worth around 25-centimes. Given that it was worth so much more, the nickel had a much wider region of monetary headroom, and so it seemed destined to enjoy a much longer period of time before its metal value caught up to it and Gresham's law kicked in.

But not so. The less valuable centime has proven more enduring.

As I hinted earlier, the reason for this is the Swiss franc's extraordinary strength over the last century. Below I've plotted out the long-term franc-to-dollar exchange rate.

In 1880, one dollar was worth 5.18 francs. Today, a dollar is worth less than a franc. Put differently, the purchasing power of the Swiss franc and its centime subdivisions has improved by a factor of five relative to the dollar's purchasing power. And so the value of the cupronickel embedded in the 10-centime coin hasn't inflated nearly as fast as the value of cupronickel in the U.S. 5-cent piece. That's why Kyle Bass isn't hoarding lowly 10-centime coins.

The U.S. Mint is belatedly scrambling to make changes to the metal content of the nickel. In its 2022 report to Congress, it asked legislators for the authority to mint an updated five-cent coin made of 80% copper and 20% nickel, the idea being to reduce costs by using more of the red metal, which is the cheaper of the two. Either that or use an alloy known as C99750T-M, which is composed of 51% copper, 14% nickel, the remaining being cheaper-cost metals zinc (33%) and manganese (2%).

In the end, the nickel and 10-centime tell two very different stories. One, a coin that’s run out of headroom, becoming a financial liability for a mint that seems mired in bureaucratic inefficiency. The other, a relic of stability, quietly enduring in a world of change.