The screen refreshes. A quiet violence has occurred. Somewhere in Santander’s vast server farm, in a encrypted vault of silicon and electricity, the old key has been crushed to dust. A new lock has clicked shut.

Now comes the strange part: the invention.

The screen asks for your current PIN. You pause. For a moment, your fingers hover over the keyboard, trying to remember the sequence of numbers that has, for the last three years, acted as the skeleton key to your financial life. Was it 2310? No, that’s the garage code. 1982? Your birth year. Too obvious.

Right. I changed it.