The stone money of Yap is an interesting case to consider when thinking about what money is and what role it plays in the economic and social affairs of a community. This article by Michael Bryan of the Federal Reserve Bank of Cleveland describes the stone wheels of Yap, how they were obtained and used as gift markers both within and between tribes, and whether the stones fit the textbook definition of money:
Federal Reserve Bank of Cleveland, Island Money, by Michael F. Bryan: ...In this Commentary, I … consider… the unique and curious money of Yap, a small group of islands in the South Pacific. … For at least a few centuries leading up to today, the Yapese have used giant stone wheels called rai when executing certain exchanges. The stones are made from a shimmering limestone that is not indigenous to Yap, but quarried and shipped, primarily from the islands of Palau, 250 miles to the southwest. The size of the stones varies; some are as small as a few inches in diameter and weigh a couple of pounds, while others may reach a diameter of 12 feet and weigh thousands of pounds. A hole is carved into the middle of each stone so that it may be carried, either by coconut rope strung through the smaller pieces, or by wooden poles inserted into the larger stones. These great stones require the combined effort of many men to lift. Expeditions to acquire new stones were authorized by a chief who would retain all of the larger stones and two-fifths of the smaller ones, reportedly a fairly common distribution of production that served as a tax on the Yapese. In effect, the Yap chiefs acted as the island’s central bankers; they controlled the quantity of stones in circulation...
The quarrying and transport of rai was a substantial part of the Yapese economy. In 1882, British naturalist Jan S. Kubary reported seeing 400 Yapese men producing stones on the island of Palau for transport back to Yap. Given the population of the island at the time … more than 10 percent of the island’s adult male population was in the money-cutting business. Curiously, rai are not known to have any particular use other than as a representation of value. The stones were not functional, nor were they spiritually significant to their owners, and by most accounts, the stones have no obvious ornamental value to the Yapese. If it is true that Yap stones have no nonmonetary usefulness, they would be different from most “primitive” forms of money. Usually an item becomes a medium of exchange after its commodity value—sometimes called intrinsic worth—has been widely established...
Precisely how the value of each stone was determined is somewhat unclear. We know that size was at best only a rough approximation of worth and that stone values varied depending upon the cost or difficulty of bringing them to the island. For example, stones gotten at great peril, perhaps even loss of life, are valued most highly. Similarly, stones that were cut using shell tools and carried by canoes are more valuable than comparably sized stones that were quarried with the aid of iron tools and transported by large Western ships. The more valuable stones were given names, such as that of the chief for whom the stone was quarried or the canoe on which it was transported. Naming the stone may have secured its value since such identification would convey to all the costs associated with obtaining it...
Consider the case of the Irish American David O’Keefe from Savannah, Georgia, who, after being shipwrecked on Yap in the late nineteenth century, returned to the island with a sailing vessel and proceeded to import a large number of stones in return for a bounty of Yapese copra (coconut meat). The arrival of O’Keefe (and other Western traders) increased the number and size of the stones being brought back to the island, and by one accounting, Yap stones went from being “very rare” in 1840 to being plentiful—more than 13,000 were to be found on the island by 1929. No longer restricted by shell tools and canoes, the largest stones arriving grew from four feet in diameter to the colossal 12-foot stones that are now a part of monetary folklore. Yet the great infusion of stones did not inflate away their value. Since the stones of Captain O’Keefe were obviously more easily obtained, they traded on the island at an appropriately reduced value relative to the older stones gotten at much greater cost. In essence, O’Keefe and other Westerners were bringing in large numbers of “debased” stones that could easily be identified by the Yapese.
While it’s clear that the Yap stones have value for the Yapese, can the stones really be called money? The answer, of course, depends upon how you define money. If you rely on a standard textbook definition, you’d describe money in terms of its functions, for example, “Whatever is used as a medium of exchange, unit of account, and store of value.” Certainly, Yap stones performed at least one of these functions quite well—they were an effective store of value (form of wealth). But every asset—from bonds to houses—stores value and is not necessarily labeled money.
To be called money, at least according to the textbook definition, an asset must serve two other functions. It must be a medium of exchange, meaning that it can be readily used either to purchase goods or to satisfy a debt, and it must be a unit of account, or something used as a measure of value. Yap stones were not the unit of account for the islands. Pricing goods and services in terms of the stones would probably have been difficult for the average islander. ... According to Paul Einzig, prices on the islands were set in terms of baskets of a food crop, taro, or cups of syrup, staples that would be easy for a typical islander to appreciate. Furthermore, there is some question whether Yap stones were commonly used as a medium of exchange. To be used in exchange, an item must possess certain characteristics—it must be storable, portable, recognizable, and divisible. Certainly, the stones were storable; they can still be found in abundance on Yap, and they have maintained their purchasing power reasonably well over time (particularly compared with other fiat monies, including dollars). And while it is sometimes claimed that Yap stones suffer as an exchange medium because they lack portability, this may not be completely accurate. In the case of the larger, more easily identified stones, physical possession is not necessary for the transfer of purchasing power. Those involved in the exchange need only communicate that purchasing power has been transferred…
But while storability and portability may not have limited the use of these stones as a medium of exchange, the other two characteristics—recognizability and divisibility—probably did. The stones were primarily used in exchanges between Yap islanders. … Yap historically did not have close cultural ties with any of its trading partners and trade with off-islanders was somewhat infrequent, the stones did not facilitate transactions on these occasions. When transacting with other islands, the Yapese used woven mats (a common exchange medium throughout the South Pacific), while trade with Westerners often involved an exchange of coconuts. Even on the island, the indivisibility of the stones necessitated the use of other items as media of exchange for most transactions. Most rai are highly valued: By one account, a stone of “three spans” (about 25 inches across) would have been sufficient in the early twentieth century to purchase 50 baskets of food or a full-sized pig, while a stone the size of a man would have been worth “many villages and plantations.” Obviously, these stones do not change hands very frequently, since expenditures of such magnitude are rare. For more ordinary transactions, the Yapese either used pearl shells or resorted to barter. Clearly the stones of Yap do not fit neatly within the textbook definition of money…
But … what role do the stones play and how is that role similar to that played by dollars?... [T]he stones, particularly the larger ones, acted as markers, changing hands in recognition of a “gift.” Stones were often merely held until the gift was reciprocated and the stone could be returned to its original owner. For example, islanders wishing to fish someone’s waters might do so by leaving a stone in recognition of the favor. After an appropriate number of fish were given to the owner of the fishing waters, the stone would simply be reclaimed. Occasionally a stone was “exchanged” when one tribe came to the aid of another, say for support against a rival tribe or in celebration of some event. But the stone would reside with the new tribe only until such time as aid of a similar value could be given in return. The stones, then, act as a memory of the contributions occurring between islanders. Anthropologists refer to this as a “gift economy,” where goods aren’t traded as much as they are given with the expectation of a comparable favor at some later date. So Yap stones serve as a memory of one’s contributions on the island. … But this raises an intriguing question. If the stones of Yap were merely markers and nothing more, why did the Yapese expend such great resources to carve them out of the mountains of Palau and carry them all the way back to their island? Wouldn’t any marker work just as well? It may be that the Yap chiefs did not have sufficient “credibility” to simply decree an object’s value. That is, the Yapese may have needed some assurance that the object on which value has been assigned could not be easily replicated for the mere benefit of the issuer...
