See everything you're entitled to— and everything your people are happy to share.
No bank login. No password. No account linking, ever.
8 is a register of the discounts, benefits and credits already attached to your life — your cards, your bank tier, your job, your memberships, your phone plan. What you hold, roughly what it's worth, and when it runs out.
8 never activates, cancels or buys anything on your behalf. It shows you what exists and hands you to the place you use it.
Made-up entries, real structure. Every line in 8 carries its terms, its expiry and how sure we are — including "we haven't checked this in a while".
The perks are not the problem. Nobody has the picture.
Britain is unusually dense with loyalty schemes, packaged accounts, staff schemes and bundled extras — and unusually bad at seeing them together. Three entries from the national statement:
UK shoppers leave an estimated £3 billion a year on the table. Around 27% of loyalty points go unspent, and more than one in ten expire outright — mostly because rewards take too long to earn (49%), points expire (41%), or the rewards on offer simply aren't worth chasing (39%).
Source: Antavo Global Customer Loyalty Report 2026 — a vendor-commissioned survey of ~1,800 UK consumers, reported by Retail Times.
Roughly 10 million of the UK's 155 million subscriptions are unwanted, costing consumers about £1.6 billion a year. Not fraud, not overspending — dead money that keeps leaving the account because nobody has the list in front of them.
Source: Department for Business and Trade, impact assessment for the subscription-contracts regime, published alongside the UK's subscription-contract rules.
Your entitlements live in a bank app, a card app, two supermarket apps, a phone provider's rewards tab, an employer portal you logged into once, a PDF of policy terms, and somebody else's wallet. Spotify next to a phone contract that bundles a music service. Revolut Premium next to a packaged account that already covers travel. The two facts live in two different apps, so the overlap is invisible.
Not a published statistic — it's the pattern that showed up in every audit we ran by hand.
Our own estimate — from audits run by hand, not a published figure — is that the realistic pot for a median household is nearer £60–£150 a year than the four-figure numbers this category likes to advertise — plus the things they had no idea existed. The second half of that sentence is the interesting one.
The two-minute perks audit
No login · Nothing leaves this pageSeven questions, about ninety seconds. At the end: a list of what you're probably entitled to — with an honest label on every line, because these are possibilities to check, not holdings we've verified.
Here's what you're probably sitting on
0 entitlementsRead this before you believe the number
None of this is verified. 8 hasn't seen your accounts and never will — this list is built purely from what you ticked, matched against what those providers typically include. Every line is a thing to go and check, not a thing you own. Some won't apply to you at all; that's what the labels are for.
Likely — most people with that selection have it. Depends — it hangs on your specific plan, tier or eligibility. Worth checking — it exists, and enough people have it that it's worth two minutes of your time.
How the range was worked out
Each entitlement carries a conservative annual range taken from published typical values, not best cases. Then two discounts are applied, because a straight sum of everything would be a lie:
- Confidence. Lines marked Likely count at 80% of their range, Depends at 45%, Worth checking at 20%. Anything with no defensible figure counts as zero and is shown without a number.
- A taper. The lines are ranked by size and each further one counts for 18% less than the one above it. Entitlements overlap — the travel insurance in your bank account and the one in your card plan are not two holidays — and nobody redeems everything they hold.
The band is deliberately wide. The floor assumes you barely touch any of it; the ceiling assumes you chase all of it. Most people land in the lower third.
For context, and both of these are our own estimates rather than published figures: someone who works at this deliberately — stacking portal, voucher, card and loyalty on every purchase — tops out around £400–£900 a year, and that person already does it manually without an app. The realistic pot for a median household is nearer £60–£150, plus the things they had no idea existed.
Get your full audit when 8 opens
The full version checks the exact terms, the clause each entitlement comes from, and every expiry date for the next twelve months — then puts them on a calendar. Leave an email and we'll tell you when it's ready.
This is a prototype waitlist on a prototype page. There's no backend behind this form — nothing is sent, stored or emailed anywhere. It exists to find out whether people want this enough to type an address.
Three moves, and then it just keeps watching
The audit above is the first two minutes of it. The app is the same idea, kept current.
Add what you've got — or snap it, or forward it
Pick your cards, account tier, memberships, phone plan and life status from a list. Photograph a staff card, a voucher or an offer on a noticeboard and 8 reads it into a structured entry. Forward a perks email and it does the same. Anything odd — 20% off at the gym through your football club, member rates at your building society — goes in by hand and behaves like every other record.
8 tells you what's in it, and when it runs out
Every entry carries its terms, a link to the exact clause, an expiry date and a confidence state on its face. The money in this category doesn't leak at the till — it leaks at renewal: the insurance date, the benefit-selection window, the Railcard, the voucher, the contract end. Those are perfectly predictable from dates alone, and nobody currently owns that reminder. 8 sends at most two a week, and only when the record is confirmed.
Share what you choose with the people close to you
Your partner, your parents, a couple of friends — each on their own account, nothing shared by default. You decide, entitlement by entitlement, what they can see. They get a second column in their register: "Ella's Amex includes two guest lounge passes." "Dad's employer runs a staff discount scheme — here are its terms." Then they have a conversation with a real person.
See it working, before you believe a word of it
Seven stages, seven real screens from the app — not mock-ups, the actual thing. Scroll it, tap it, break it. It takes about three minutes and needs nothing from you.
- 1Build your registerTap what you hold. Nothing linked, nothing scraped.
- 2What you holdThe vault, with the confidence printed on every row.
- 3Expiry radarThe money leaks at renewal dates. Those are predictable.
- 4Ask 8What each card gives you for this purchase. A comparison, not advice.
- 5Paying twiceThe overlap, the steps, and the bit where you confirm it.
- 6Your bubbleSharing that runs on consent, never credentials.
- 7What 8 never doesFour refusals, each one deliberate.
Most perks are shareable. Almost nobody shares them.
Staff discounts extend to named household members. Memberships carry guest passes. Cards carry companion access. British Airways lets up to seven people share an Avios household account — they dropped the same-address requirement years ago. The reason none of it moves is not selfishness — it's that nobody knows what anyone else is sitting on.
A bubble is small on purpose: partner, parents, a few close friends. It's the one thing an incumbent can't copy, because your bank cannot show you what your mother is entitled to.
Visible, not authorised. Every one of these ends in a conversation with a person, not a button in 8.
What 8 doesn't do
Each of these is a decision, not a gap. They're the reason a registry can be trusted with the knowing.
No bank logins, no card credentials, no loyalty passwords, no employer portal sign-in. Not at launch and not later. It costs us live balances — so you type those in, and 8 shows "as of 12 March" next to the figure. Honest and slightly stale beats invented and fresh.
8 will tell you six card offers expire on Friday and open the right screen in the right app. You tap. There is no "✓ cancellation requested" — that's a lie you'd discover on your next statement, and automated activation is exactly the pattern getting people's cards frozen elsewhere.
No "get this card", no "cancel this policy", no ranked recommendation of a regulated product. 8 shows what you already hold, what its terms actually say, and general facts of UK consumer law that apply to everyone. Where two things overlap, it shows both — limits, excesses and exclusions side by side — plus the questions to ask. You decide.
No self-attested "£412 accumulated" counted at the moment you tapped a button. If you tell us you used something, we record that you told us, label it self-reported and show the count next to it. Nothing else gets counted — including everything on this page, which is an estimate and says so.