The Susan B. Anthony Dollar
As many collectors and commentators have noted, the Anthony dollar is best described as a classic case of how not to design and market a new coin.
In the middle of 1999 came the curious news that the Susan B. Anthony dollar would again be struck for circulation after a lapse of nearly 20 years. Perhaps the most ridiculed coin ever issued by the mints of the United States, the huge inventory of “Agony” dollars, as they were frequently called by collectors, had gradually been whittled down by the Treasury until it was announced that the government would be forced to mint more to meet demand.
Despite the Treasury announcement, there existed no real public demand for this coin in 1999. Many of them were forced into circulation through post offices and rapid-area transit systems. Those who attended the Portland American Numismatic Association convention, for example, in August 1998, well remember riding the MAX railway and getting change in Anthony dollars at the ticket vending machines.
It is, of course, the official rationale that these coins were needed to fill in the gap until the new Sacagawea dollars were issued to the public early in the year 2000. Because there are many new collectors who started the hobby after 1981, it is worth reviewing the history of this coinage.
As many collectors and commentators have noted, the Anthony dollar is best described as a classic case of how not to design and market a new coin. The old adage about the government knowing what is best for the people is nowhere more evident than in this ill-fated boondoggle. Those in power at the time of the first coinage, however, congratulated themselves on a job well done, a view totally at odds with reality.
Those who collect silver dollars issued before 1935 frequently find them in worn condition, leading to the erroneous conclusion that such coins circulated widely in the United States. The dollar was used in commerce, but this was mostly in the Western states, where it was common until the 1950s to pay workers in such coins. The pay envelope was thus a little heavy at times, but in those days, weight meant more money, so there was little grumbling, especially in areas where the coins were commonly seen.
In 1971, the mints began striking dollar-sized coins again, but this time of copper-nickel and honoring former president Dwight D. Eisenhower. Collectors liked the coins, but the general public did not use them except as gifts to children at Christmas and other special occasions; most of the coins stayed in Treasury or bank vaults for some years. As a circulating coin, the idea was a failure, and the government searched for an alternative. The idea was to replace the paper dollar with a coin and thus save taxpayers a considerable sum of money, but first, an acceptable coin had to be found.
In the mid-1970s, the Triangle Institute was hired to study the whole problem of the coinage and its relationship to a functioning marketplace. It is obvious from some of the conclusions that numismatists were not overly consulted at any stage of the report. However, the report was correct on one point: that the size of the dollar coin had to be reduced to become readily acceptable to the public.
Had the so-called experts actually studied the monetary history of this country, they would have come across the 20-cent fiasco of the 1870s. An unneeded coin was foisted on the public by the silver interests, but the new denomination, as issued, was much too close in size to the quarter dollar and was frequently confused with it. After two years of coinage, the Treasury pulled the plug in 1876 and began to take them out of circulation.
If the government had given real thought as to why and how new denominations are accepted by the public, it would have been a good thing for the country. A coin lasts for at least 25 years, and sometimes far longer, while a dollar bill has to be replaced at taxpayer expense about every 18 months. Untold millions of dollars could have been saved every year had the program been carried out in a logical manner.
Although the Treasury is generally very conservative when it comes to change, in the early part of 1977, it actually came out in favor of a circulating dollar coin that would be smaller than the Eisenhower version, which was still being struck. Despite this favorable view, little was done for the time being.
The election of Jimmy Carter to the presidency in November 1976 was to set the stage for a new dollar. He took office in January 1977, but it took time, as in all such changes, to organize the federal departments and find capable people to staff them. In some cases, as shown by the Anthony dollar, he was not entirely successful.
While Carter was organizing his branch of the government, Philadelphia Mint technicians were busily engaged in testing new concepts for the dollar. Not only were different sizes considered, but also a variety of alloys that would have to work in vending machines. An 11-sided coin was considered but ultimately rejected because of alleged difficulties in manufacture. Other countries, however, seem to have had no such problems in striking coins with multiple sides.
The final choice of the Mint was for a coin thicker than a quarter dollar but not all that much larger in diameter. Even the color, because of the copper-nickel composition, was the same. (Why a different color was not considered is one of the minor mysteries that plague the Anthony dollar.) It was a recipe for disaster.
As if the decision on size and composition was not bad enough, it was now the turn of the political ideologues in the Mint Bureau and Treasury to add further roadblocks against the success of the new dollar. The feminist wing of the Carter Administration, knowing little or nothing about the why and how of coin circulation, decided that suffragette Susan B. Anthony be honored on the coin. A woman of character and perseverance in the struggle for gender equality, Anthony deserved better than this coin.
Those in charge of artistic thoughts in the government decided that Miss Anthony ought to be portrayed exactly as she looked, warts and all. Chief Engraver Frank Gasparro was handed a profile picture of Anthony and told to reproduce it exactly. Apparently, the thought of Susan Anthony smiling or looking pleasant horrified the powers-that-be in Washington, and Gasparro duly followed his instructions to the letter. The end result is there for all to see.
In an odd coincidence, Gasparro had already executed a Liberty head that would have served the coinage well. Based on the Libertas Americana medal designed by Benjamin Franklin in the 1780s, the concept was rejected out of hand by the Treasury, who did not want an idealized woman on the coinage but rather a real one.
(It is believed that Mint Director Stella Hackel Sims, considered by many as one of Carter’s worst appointments, led the charge against Gasparro’s fine head of Liberty. She also pushed very strongly for the use of Susan Anthony’s profile on the new dollar. She has the further “distinction” of having ordered the needless destruction of large quantities of 20th-century Mint records.)
At the request of the Treasury Department, Representative Mary Oakar of Ohio placed the necessary legislation enabling the new dollar into the Congressional hopper in the fall of 1978. The president’s party, having a majority in both houses, easily passed and signed the legislation into law in October. With the authorization in place, the Mint and Treasury people were able to expedite the delivery of the new coin.
By mid-December, plans were far enough advanced, including both dies and planchets, that test strikes were made in order to determine if the dies needed any further adjustments in design work. If such was the case, the work was minor, and the Mint readied itself for full-scale production early in 1979.
In order to give some sense of continuity to the new coins, the Treasury decided to use the old Eisenhower reverse (the Apollo moon landing), suitably reduced in size. The choice was a wise one and gave a measure of collector confidence when the coins were first issued. That confidence soon evaporated, however. It is interesting to note that this reverse did not have a direct reference to either Eisenhower or Anthony and thus was not really a political choice as the obverse had been.
The political theorists in the Treasury were so thrilled by the new coinage that they thought the public would respond by hoarding the coin in massive numbers. It was wishful thinking, to say the least, but nevertheless, the mints were given orders to produce the coin in large quantities before the official release date set for mid-summer. More than 500 million pieces were thus made in anticipation of a hoarding event that did not occur.
In one of those odd happenings that liven up numismatic history, a coin dealer managed to get a few hundred Anthony dollars in advance of the official release date, no doubt with the help of a friendly banker. The Treasury, apparently believing that this was a heinous crime of the worst kind, made a real effort to prosecute the hapless individual. Although the net result was the usual great waste of money and time, in truth, they should have given the coin dealer a medal for at least helping to popularize the new coin.
In due course, the coins, after a huge publicity campaign mounted at taxpayer expense, were duly released and were met with reactions ranging from a loud yawn to outright hostility. This was followed by laughter on a grand scale as the public realized the magnitude of the blunder. It was not long before the most commonly heard name for the new coin was the “Agony Dollar,” a play on words that reflected the unnecessarily stern look on Miss Anthony’s face.
Shortly after this, and to prove some strange political point, Senator William Proxmire of Wisconsin forced through the Senate a ban on further coinage of the Anthony dollars until his demands were met. They soon were, and coinage resumed. Proxmire was once famous for handing out awards to bureaucrats for wasting money but was singularly quiet when it came to his part in this coinage disaster.
The 1979 Anthony coinage, either uncirculated or proof, is extremely common and easily found by the collector at nominal prices. There are some varieties that once commanded strong collector attention, but these are less sought after today. These include the so-called Near Date 1979-P coins, which are also referred to as Wide Rim coins. There is also a Narrow Rim variety, referred to as having a far date.
There are two types of 1979-proof coins, depending upon the mintmark. Type I has what is referred to as a “muddy” mintmark. Type II mintmark, on the other hand, has a clearly defined letter “S” for the mint.
The former is by far the most common, and the Type II variety brings better money.
Despite the almost total lack of demand for the 1979 “Susies,” the Treasury apparently still believed that enormous public demand was just around the corner and ordered another 90 million made in 1980. Added to the more than 750 million made in 1979, this provided quite a few coins to clog the Treasury vaults, unloved and unwanted.
Although the coinage of 1980 was considerably less than that of 1979, again, the coins are obtained with ease, and there are no varieties of note. In 1981, the Treasury finally got the message, and regular coinage was halted, but proofs were still made available to collectors. The 1981-S proof coinage, like 1979, has two varieties of mintmark. The Type II San Francisco issue books at $225. There is very little difference between the two 1981 varieties.
During 1980, the post offices were used in a desperate effort to get the coins into circulation. About all that was achieved was an increasingly irritated public who simply refused to use the new coins because they were too often mistaken for quarters. (The Treasury also tried this scheme with Army PXs in Europe, but the soldiers did not like them any more than did civilians.)
It is true that large numbers were forced into circulation through various channels, but they were either returned to the Treasury through the banking system or simply laid aside as souvenirs of a new coinage. By 1982, virtually none were to be seen in the marketplace. (In 1979 and 1980, collectors had spent them as a curiosity and to confuse cashiers, but this effort wore off quickly.)
Beginning in 1982, there was a strong effort to force these coins out to the public via whatever means available. The most useful method seems to have been through the rapid-transit systems in the larger cities, and it is no doubt true that coins are easier to dispense from ticket machines than paper dollars. The effort was a resounding failure.
The coinage of 1999 amounted to nearly 30 million pieces and was just as quickly forgotten as the earlier efforts. In 2000 came the first Sacagawea dollars that at least had the saving grace of a different alloy that was easily recognized. They don’t circulate, either, and are made strictly for collectors.
The only real solution to having a circulating dollar coin in the marketplace is to stop printing the dollar bill and perhaps even the $2 bill as well. Then, and only then, will we see dollar coins in our change at the stores.
