- Tension: We want convenience and control over our identities, but putting our ID in a digital wallet means giving up some visibility—and agency.
- Noise: The debate around Apple Wallet IDs is framed as a tech upgrade, but oversimplifies what it means to carry your identity in someone else’s ecosystem.
- Direct Message: Digital ID isn’t just a feature—it’s a shift in power. You’re not just saving space in your pocket. You’re redesigning your relationship to trust.
To learn more about our editorial approach, explore The Direct Message methodology.
Your ID is not just a card—it’s a key
When I first added my credit cards to Apple Wallet, I felt liberated. No more fumbling through my wallet. No more forgotten cards at the checkout line. But when Apple recently rolled out digital driver’s licenses, I paused.
A license isn’t just another card. It’s a government-issued verification of who you are. Handing that over to a private company—even one as security-obsessed as Apple—raises questions that a sleek UI can’t answer.
In California, where I live, we’ve always been early adopters. And there’s no doubt the tech community here is buzzing about the convenience. But beneath the enthusiasm is a quiet tension I’ve felt before working with digital platforms: when the solution is seamless, you rarely question who controls the seams.
That’s the problem with how digital ID is being marketed. It’s a metaphor of minimalism: less clutter, fewer things to lose, a cleaner, smarter life.
But that metaphor only works if you ignore what’s being abstracted away—your ability to hold, manage, and even question the systems that verify you.
Not just an upgrade—an exchange
Much of the buzz about Apple Wallet IDs paints them as inevitable. Why carry a physical card when your phone is already your keys, your tickets, and your payment method?
But that framing hides a critical shift: control.
When your ID lives in your pocket, it belongs to you. You choose when to pull it out, how to show it, and even where to store it.
When it lives inside an encrypted container owned and managed by a trillion-dollar company, that control becomes conditional. Conditional on terms of service. On device access. On biometric verification.
This isn’t a conspiracy theory. It’s standard platform logic. I’ve worked with enough product teams to know that once something becomes data, it becomes subject to optimization. Every touchpoint is an opportunity to refine, redirect, or monetize.
So when your identity becomes data, it enters that loop.
Apple isn’t selling your license information. That’s not the concern. The concern is opacity.
With physical IDs, the logic is clear. With digital ones, the processes are invisible. You don’t know when updates happen, what metadata is collected, or how long it’s stored.
The system works—until it doesn’t. Until your phone breaks. Or your Face ID fails. Or a bug locks you out.
And then what? Who do you appeal to? A DMV help desk or a Genius Bar?
The frame we’ve been handed
In behavioral psychology, we talk about framing effects—how the way a choice is presented affects how we perceive it. Apple Wallet IDs are framed as a decluttering tool. A small, efficient upgrade.
But here’s the deeper truth: they don’t just change where your ID lives. They change who you rely on to prove you are who you say you are.
You’re not just digitizing your ID. You’re outsourcing your identity—and that changes the trust equation.
Rebuilding agency in a digitized world
So how do we use this technology without surrendering control?
First, we need transparency. Apple should make it radically clear what happens when you upload your ID. What’s stored locally versus in the cloud. What agencies have access. What happens when you lose your device. A trust-based system needs to earn trust, not assume it.
Second, we need digital redundancy. If your entire identity is tied to one ecosystem, you’re fragile. We wouldn’t keep all our money in a single investment—why do it with our identity? States offering digital IDs should ensure robust, quick fallback options. A printed QR code. A temporary reissuance. Something.
Third, we need better metaphors. Not “your wallet, but smarter.” More like “your passport, but dynamic.” Something that emphasizes rights, protocols, and protections—not just sleek convenience.
And finally, we need to treat identity as infrastructure. It’s not a product feature. It’s a fundamental enabler of participation—in jobs, healthcare, voting, travel.
When private companies manage that infrastructure, oversight becomes essential. Because when something goes wrong, you don’t want a Terms of Service page. You want accountability.
Choosing how we’re seen
At its best, digital ID could be empowering. A way to carry only what’s needed, to verify without oversharing, to protect our information through encryption and precision.
But that’s only possible if we question the premise before we adopt the product. Just because it’s easy to add your license to your phone doesn’t mean it should be your only form of ID. Just because it works doesn’t mean you’ve retained power.
Tech often sells control while slowly centralizing it. I’ve seen that playbook in marketing dashboards, customer data platforms, even B2B analytics suites. Now we’re seeing it in personal identity.
The question isn’t: should you put your license in Apple Wallet?
The question is: when you do, what part of the trust relationship shifts—and are you okay with that?
We’ve spent years designing tools that recognize our face. The next challenge is making sure they still recognize our rights.
The metaphor that matters isn’t your wallet. It’s your window. With digital IDs, we’re not just storing identity—we’re reframing visibility. Who sees what. Who grants access. And who stands behind that frame when something breaks.
That’s not a UX problem. That’s a question of power.
