Money has been the engine of civilization, greasing the wheels of trade, securing wealth, and keeping the books balanced. In the earliest days, people relied on systems of mutual obligation and trust, where goods and services were exchanged based on relationships and future reciprocity. As societies grew, these informal arrangements became impractical, paving the way for standardized measures of value that could be used across communities and over time.
Societies turned to commodity money—stuff that had real-world use beyond just being currency. Gold, silver, salt, and even cattle fit the bill. But precious metals soon stole the spotlight. Unlike livestock, metals didn’t eat, die, or wander off. They were portable, durable, easy to divide, and scarce enough to stay valuable. Standardized coins made trade smoother, and as economies grew, paper money emerged—lighter, easier to carry, and backed by real metal in the vault. For a while, at least.
The rise of fiat currency—government-issued money backed by nothing but faith—fundamentally reshaped the world economy. With money no longer tethered to gold or silver, central banks could conjure it out of thin air and control its supply at will. This unchecked control has fueled inflation, financial crises, and blatant monetary manipulation, leaving ordinary people footing the bill while elites reap the rewards. As trust in the system crumbled, the hunt for a genuine alternative stopped being a theoretical exercise—it became a matter of survival.
The Need for Digital Money
As economies became increasingly digital, traditional financial systems struggled to keep pace. Bank transfers, credit card payments, and international remittances remained slow, expensive, and dependent on intermediaries. More critically, these systems required absolute trust in banks and governments—an assumption that collapsed spectacularly during the 2008 financial crisis.
The crisis, triggered by reckless lending, financial mismanagement, and the collapse of major institutions like Lehman Brothers, exposed the fragility and corruption of the world banking system. Governments bailed out failing banks with taxpayer money, while ordinary people lost their homes, jobs, and savings. Confidence in centralized financial institutions eroded, and the world witnessed firsthand how monetary policy could be manipulated to benefit the powerful at the expense of the public.
Amid this growing distrust, the need for digital money became clearer than ever. People sought a system that could function without banks, avoid inflationary manipulation, and allow for direct, peer-to-peer transactions—something as efficient as email but as censorship-resistant as cash.
Existing digital payment systems like PayPal, credit cards, and online banking still relied on the same centralized institutions that had just proven themselves unworthy of trust. The search intensified for a solution that could remove middlemen entirely, ensuring that individuals—not banks or governments—had full control over their own money.
This was the perfect backdrop for the emergence of Bitcoin, a system designed to function outside the reach of traditional financial powers.
The Cypherpunks and the Abandonment of Privacy
The cypherpunks were a group of cryptographers, programmers, and activists who, in the late 1980s and early 1990s, set out to use cryptography as a shield against government surveillance and financial control. They believed that privacy was a fundamental human right, and one of their key missions was to develop digital money that could be used anonymously—like cash, but for the internet.
At the forefront was David Chaum, whose pioneering work in cryptography led to DigiCash, a system that allowed completely untraceable transactions using cryptographic signatures. Chaum’s vision was bold, but DigiCash failed—not due to a technical flaw, but because it required trust in a central entity: his own company. This centralization made it vulnerable to government suppression, an Achilles’ heel that would later doom other privacy-focused digital currencies.
How DigiCash Worked
DigiCash used blind signatures, a cryptographic technique that allowed users to withdraw digital cash from a bank and spend it anonymously. The key innovation was that the bank could verify that the money was valid without knowing where it was spent—providing a high level of privacy.
However, the issuance and redemption of DigiCash were centralized:
A Bank or Chaum’s Company Issued the Money – Users had to obtain DigiCash from a central entity (a bank or DigiCash itself).
Transactions Required the Issuer’s Infrastructure – While transactions between users were anonymous, the entire system still depended on the central issuer to back and validate the currency.
Regulatory Exposure – Because it required banks to participate, DigiCash was vulnerable to government intervention and financial regulations.
The Fatal Flaw
DigiCash’s reliance on a trusted central entity meant that if that entity failed, the entire system collapsed. And that’s exactly what happened—DigiCash went bankrupt in 1998, and no one could use the currency anymore. This exposed the need for a system without a single point of failure, which Bitcoin later attempted to solve through decentralization.
Comparison to Bitcoin
DigiCash = Centralized issuance, but private transactions
Bitcoin = Decentralized issuance, but public transactions
While DigiCash offered far superior privacy, it failed because it required trust in a single entity, whereas Bitcoin removed trust at the cost of absolute transparency.
Over the next decade, cypherpunks refined and debated new models for digital cash, but something fundamental changed along the way: the movement’s original goal of privacy was abandoned in favor of decentralization at any cost.
Bitcoin, the supposed realization of the cypherpunk dream, was designed with zero regard for privacy—a fact that is often glossed over in mainstream narratives. While it eliminated the need for a central authority, Bitcoin transactions were fully transparent, permanently recorded on a public ledger for anyone to analyze. This was not an accident or oversight—it was a design choice.
Satoshi Nakamoto’s Bitcoin white paper made no mention of privacy-enhancing cryptographic techniques like Chaumian blinding or zero-knowledge proofs. Instead, Bitcoin settled for a model where every transaction was recorded forever, allowing for eventual deanonymization of users through blockchain forensics. Rather than serving as digital cash, Bitcoin became the most financially naked system ever created, a panopticon ledger where anyone, from regulators to random strangers, could scrutinize every move.
By the time Bitcoin gained traction, the original cypherpunk dream of a truly private, untraceable digital currency had been abandoned. Efforts to restore financial anonymity were left to niche projects like Monero and Zcash, while Bitcoin itself became a tool for mass surveillance disguised as financial liberation.
Just How Non-Private Is Bitcoin?
Imagine if every dollar bill you ever spent carried a permanent, unchangeable receipt listing every hand it had ever passed through—engraved in stone, visible to the entire world. That’s Bitcoin. Every transaction you make is etched onto a public, permanent, and fully transparent ledger that anyone with an internet connection can inspect. There’s no shredded receipts, no locked vaults, no plausible deniability. Just an open book where your financial history is displayed for all to see.
Think of it like walking around with a glass wallet—every coin, every bill, every transaction in full view of not just the people you do business with, but also hackers, governments, corporations, and nosy neighbors. Your salary? Public. Your purchases? Public. Your donations? Public. The only thing standing between you and complete financial exposure is a string of letters and numbers—your Bitcoin address. And the moment someone ties that address to your real identity, every transaction you’ve ever made is laid bare like a confession in the town square.
It gets worse. Unlike a cash transaction, where you can hand someone a twenty-dollar bill and walk away, Bitcoin’s entire transaction history is permanent. You can’t erase it, you can’t alter it, and you certainly can’t hide it. Every Bitcoin you own comes with a digital trail, like footprints in wet cement, tracing all the way back to the moment it was mined.
Think your identity is safe because you haven’t told anyone your Bitcoin address? Think again. Blockchain analytics firms—working hand-in-hand with banks and governments—use sophisticated tracking tools to deanonymize transactions, clustering addresses together, linking them to real-world identities, and building intricate financial profiles on everyone who touches the network. Once your name is associated with a Bitcoin address, your entire financial past, present, and future is an open case file.
Even so-called "privacy techniques" like mixing services and coinjoins don’t fully shield you. They’re like wearing a cheap disguise in a high-tech surveillance state—it might throw off a casual observer, but to the people really watching, you're just making yourself more suspicious.
For a system that was supposed to be the digital equivalent of cash, Bitcoin is instead the most transparent financial ledger ever created—not just for banks and governments, but for every person on Earth. If privacy was the goal, Bitcoin failed so spectacularly that it might as well have been designed as a tool for mass surveillance.
The Innovators and the Road to Bitcoin
Despite the failure of DigiCash, other digital cash experiments emerged:
E-Gold (1996): A digital gold-backed currency that gained popularity but was ultimately shut down by the U.S. government.
Hashcash (1997): Created by Adam Back, this introduced proof-of-work, a system that required computational effort to prevent spam and fraud—later repurposed for Bitcoin mining.
B-Money & Bit Gold (1998-2005): Proposed by Wei Dai and Nick Szabo, these concepts envisioned decentralized money but never became functional systems.
Then, in 2008, an anonymous figure (or group) using the pseudonym Satoshi Nakamoto released a white paper titled “Bitcoin: A Peer-to-Peer Electronic Cash System.” Unlike previous attempts, Bitcoin successfully solved the double-spending problem without a central authority. But its innovation came at a cost: while it decentralized money, it did so by making every transaction permanently visible.
The cypherpunks had sought financial privacy, but in the end, they settled for public surveillance masquerading as decentralization.
Proof-of-Work and the Heart of Decentralization
At the core of digital money—at least in its decentralized form—lies a simple but profound question: Who decides what transactions are valid? In traditional finance, banks and governments act as the ultimate arbiters of financial truth. But in a decentralized system, where no single entity is in control, the network itself must find a way to agree on the truth without relying on trust.
This is where Proof-of-Work (PoW) comes in—a system that turns raw computing power into a mechanism for securing the network and preventing fraud.
The Double-Spend Problem and the Need for Consensus
Before Bitcoin, digital money had a problem: how do you stop people from copying and spending the same digital token twice? Unlike physical cash, which cannot be duplicated, digital money is just data—easily cloned unless carefully tracked.
Satoshi Nakamoto’s breakthrough was a public ledger called the blockchain, where all transactions are permanently recorded in a way that prevents double-spending without requiring a central authority. This ledger is not stored in one place or controlled by any single party—instead, it exists on thousands of independent computers worldwide, all constantly checking and updating their records to maintain consensus.
What is a Blockchain?
A blockchain is exactly what it sounds like—a chain of blocks, where each block contains a batch of confirmed transactions. Once a block is added to the chain, it becomes a permanent part of history, unchangeable and immutable. Each block is mathematically linked to the one before it, forming a continuous, unbreakable chain.
This structure ensures that tampering with one block would require rewriting every block that came after it, an almost impossible feat once the network reaches a certain size.
How Proof-of-Work Secures the Blockchain
Transactions Are Announced – Users broadcast transactions to the network, but these transactions remain unconfirmed.
Miners Compete to Solve a Cryptographic Puzzle – Miners gather transactions into a block and must solve a complex mathematical problem (hashing) to earn the right to add it to the blockchain. This process takes significant computational effort.
The First to Solve the Puzzle Adds the Block – The winning miner gets to add their block to the blockchain and is rewarded with new Bitcoin (the block reward) plus transaction fees.
Consensus Through the Longest Chain Rule – The network follows the longest valid chain—meaning the chain with the most accumulated computational work. If two versions of the blockchain exist temporarily, miners continue working on the one that required the most effort to create. Eventually, the shorter chain is abandoned, and all nodes accept the longer one as the "true" history of transactions.
This ensures that no single entity controls the blockchain, making it resistant to fraud, censorship, and manipulation.
Why Proof-of-Work Matters
Prevents Double-Spending – Every transaction is permanently recorded and backed by real-world computational work.
Eliminates the Need for a Central Authority – No government, corporation, or individual decides what transactions are valid—the network enforces the rules mathematically.
Secures Against Attacks – An attacker would need to control 51% of the network’s mining power to rewrite the blockchain, an almost impossible feat for a sufficiently decentralized system.
Incentivizes Honest Participation – Miners compete for rewards, but cheating the system is more costly than playing by the rules.
The Fatal Flaws of Proof-of-Work
For all its brilliance, Proof-of-Work (PoW) is fundamentally unsustainable—a system that guarantees its own eventual collapse. While it was the first solution to the problem of decentralized consensus, its inherent design flaws make it untenable as a long-term foundation for digital money. Let’s break down why.
1. The Arms Race: PoW Becomes a Game of "Who Can Waste the Most Energy?"
The core of PoW is competition—miners race to solve cryptographic puzzles, with the winner earning new coins. But this competition never levels out; it only escalates indefinitely.
As the network grows, mining difficulty increases, requiring more and more computational power.
More computational power means higher electricity consumption, leading to higher energy costs.
The only way to stay competitive is to build ever-larger mining farms, which means centralization of mining power in the hands of those with the deepest pockets and access to the cheapest energy.
This dynamic dooms Bitcoin and other PoW-based systems to eventual mining oligopolies. Instead of a decentralized network of participants, control consolidates into a few powerful mining entities—many of them state-controlled or corporate-backed. The result? The very centralization PoW was meant to prevent.
2. 51% Attacks: The Inevitable Threat of Control
PoW security is based on the idea that no single entity can control the majority of the network’s mining power. But in reality, this assumption breaks down as mining centralizes.
A 51% attack occurs when a single miner or cartel controls more than half of the network’s total hash rate, allowing them to:
Rewrite transaction history, effectively undoing payments (double spending).
Censor transactions by refusing to include them in new blocks.
Break consensus by selectively extending an alternative chain.
These attacks aren’t theoretical—they’ve already happened multiple times on smaller PoW networks, including Ethereum Classic, Bitcoin Gold, and Verge. Bitcoin itself is only secure as long as no one is willing to spend the money to attack it, a security model that is laughably fragile.
3. Energy Consumption: A Black Hole of Waste
PoW turns electricity into security, but at a catastrophic cost:
Bitcoin alone consumes as much electricity as entire countries like Argentina or the Netherlands.
This energy is largely wasted—miners perform useless computations that serve no purpose beyond securing the network.
As mining difficulty rises, the electricity consumption will only increase, making Bitcoin’s energy consumption even more indefensible.
And for what? A system that doesn’t scale, that gets slower over time, and that ultimately hands control to those who can afford to waste the most resources.
4. Transaction Throughput: Glacially Slow and Expensive
PoW networks like Bitcoin and Ethereum (pre-Merge) suffer from fundamental scaling issues:
Bitcoin processes roughly 7 transactions per second—risibly slow compared to Visa’s 65,000 per second.
Fees skyrocket during congestion, making microtransactions impossible and pricing out ordinary users.
Every transaction must be confirmed in a block, and blocks are mined at fixed intervals—leading to delays, unpredictability, and a terrible user experience.
This is why Bitcoin requires off-chain scaling solutions like the Lightning Network—essentially an admission that PoW itself is a failure as a worldwide payment system.
5. The Miner Death Spiral: PoW’s Self-Destruction Mechanism
PoW networks rely on miners to keep the system running. But mining is only profitable if the rewards justify the energy cost. If the price of Bitcoin crashes, or if block rewards shrink too much (as happens every four years with the halving), mining becomes unprofitable, and miners shut down their machines.
If enough miners leave, the network slows down.
If the slowdown is severe, transactions take longer and fees skyrocket.
If confidence in Bitcoin drops, the price drops further, pushing even more miners out.
This feedback loop—called a miner death spiral—is a fundamental vulnerability that could send Bitcoin into an unrecoverable collapse.
6. Mining Centralization: A System Doomed to Oligarchy
Despite Bitcoin’s original vision of decentralization, PoW has created a system where power accumulates in mining pools concentrated in countries with the cheapest electricity (like China before the mining ban, and now Kazakhstan and the U.S.).
Currently, over 60% of Bitcoin’s mining power is controlled by just three mining pools. If these pools were to collude—or be coerced by governments—Bitcoin’s censorship resistance would vanish overnight.
At this point, what exactly is the difference between Bitcoin and a state-controlled financial network?
The Unavoidable Conclusion: Proof-of-Work is a Failed Experiment
Proof-of-Work was a bold experiment, but it’s a ticking time bomb. Instead of delivering true decentralization, it funnels control straight into the hands of those with the deepest pockets and the cheapest electricity, turning mining into an oligarch’s playground. Its hunger for energy is insatiable, burning through entire nations’ worth of electricity just to keep the wheels turning. Meanwhile, transaction speeds are laughably slow, making even a basic credit card payment look like warp speed in comparison. Security? That’s a joke too—if a well-funded attacker takes control of just 51% of the network, they can rewrite history, censor transactions, and turn the so-called "immutable" blockchain into their own personal ledger. And let’s not forget the miner death spiral, where crashing prices or shrinking rewards send miners fleeing, grinding the network to a halt and sending fees through the roof. PoW doesn’t just have problems—it’s a system designed to fail, an outdated relic pretending to be the future.
For digital money to succeed, it must move beyond Proof-of-Work. Whether that’s Proof-of-Stake (PoS), Directed Acyclic Graphs (DAGs), Federated Byzantine Agreements (FBAs), or some yet-to-be-invented consensus mechanism, one thing is clear: PoW is not the future of money—it is a relic of an era that will be remembered as a temporary, inefficient detour on the road to real digital money.
Beyond Proof-of-Work: The Evolution of Consensus Mechanisms
Bitcoin’s Proof-of-Work system was a necessary first step, proving that decentralized digital money was possible. But its flaws—energy waste, slow transaction speeds, and creeping centralization in mining—demanded alternatives. Over the years, new consensus mechanisms have emerged, each attempting to balance the three fundamental pillars of blockchain technology:
Security – Protecting against fraud, double-spending, and attacks.
Speed – Ensuring transactions process quickly and efficiently.
Decentralization – Preventing control from concentrating in the hands of a few.
No consensus mechanism has achieved all three perfectly, but each iteration has pushed the boundaries of what’s possible.
The First Breakaway: Proof-of-Stake (2011–2015) – Inventor: Sunny King
While Bitcoin struggled with mining centralization and energy costs, Sunny King introduced Proof-of-Stake (PoS) in 2012 with Peercoin. Instead of solving energy-intensive puzzles, PoS networks rely on users locking up their tokens (staking) to validate transactions.
The Promise
Energy Efficiency – No need for massive mining operations.
Faster Transactions – No waiting for blocks to be mined.
Economic Security – Attackers must own a significant portion of the network to take control.
The Limitations
The Rich Get Richer – Early adopters and large holders gain more influence.
Nothing-at-Stake Problem – Validators could theoretically support multiple chains, making forks dangerous.
Semi-Centralization – Staking pools can accumulate control, just like mining pools in PoW.
Despite these concerns, PoS gained traction and became the foundation for future systems. Ethereum co-founder Vitalik Buterin later championed PoS for Ethereum 2.0, launching the transition in 2022.
Federated Byzantine Agreement (FBA) (2014–2016) – Inventor: David Mazieres (Stellar)
Recognizing that worldwide payment networks needed high-speed consensus, David Mazieres developed Federated Byzantine Agreement (FBA), implemented in Stellar (2014) and Ripple’s XRP Ledger (2012, refined in 2018). FBA allows nodes to form quorum slices—trusted subsets of the network that collectively validate transactions—without requiring mining or staking.
The Promise
Blazing-Fast Transactions – Near-instant finality, ideal for banking and remittances.
Energy Efficiency – No mining, no staking—just cryptographic validation.
Scalability – Can handle thousands of transactions per second, far beyond PoW.
The Limitations
Validator Selection Matters – While anyone can run a validator, large institutions tend to dominate the list of most relied-upon nodes.
Potential for Collusion – Just as PoW miners consolidate into large pools, FBA’s validators could theoretically coordinate, though doing so would be publicly observable.
Regulatory Risk – Unlike PoW, where miners are anonymous, many FBA validators are known entities, making them potential targets for legal or political pressure.
Is FBA More “Trust-Based” than PoW?
Not necessarily. PoW also relies on trust, just in different ways:
Users must trust mining pools not to collude (even though they often do).
Users must trust that miners won't perform a 51% attack, even though economic incentives discourage it.
PoW’s security comes from cost barriers, but this has led to centralization anyway—a handful of mining pools control most of Bitcoin’s hash power.
In contrast, FBA's security model is based on publicly visible consensus relationships rather than economic disincentives. Both systems have centralization risks; they just manifest differently.
Directed Acyclic Graphs (DAGs) (2015–2018) – Inventors: Sergey Ivancheglo (IOTA), Leemon Baird (Hedera Hashgraph)
Instead of arranging transactions into blocks, DAG-based networks allow transactions to confirm each other in a web-like structure, removing the need for miners or stakers altogether. IOTA (2015) and Hedera Hashgraph (2017) pioneered this approach.
The Promise
Massive Scalability – As more people use the network, it becomes faster.
Zero Fees – Ideal for microtransactions and IoT applications.
No Miners or Validators – No central actors controlling the network.
The Limitations
Security Concerns – DAGs struggle to prevent spam and Sybil attacks (where fake nodes flood the network).
Coordination Problems – IOTA relied on a centralized "Coordinator" node for security, contradicting decentralization.
Still Unproven – DAGs haven’t yet matched the security and resilience of blockchain-based models.
Hedera Hashgraph solved some of these issues with its gossip-based consensus, but it introduced a permissioned validator system, making it less decentralized.
The Privacy Revolution: zk-SNARKs & Ring Signatures (2016–2020) – Inventors: Eli Ben-Sasson (Zcash), Nicolas van Saberhagen (Monero)
As Bitcoin’s lack of privacy became undeniable, cryptographers developed zero-knowledge proofs (zk-SNARKs) and ring signatures to obscure transactions.
Zcash (2016) (Eli Ben-Sasson) used zk-SNARKs to allow private transactions while still proving their validity.
Monero (2014, refined in 2017) (Nicolas van Saberhagen) used ring signatures and stealth addresses to make all transactions anonymous.
The Promise
True Digital Cash – Transactions can’t be traced, just like physical cash.
Financial Freedom – No risk of surveillance or censorship.
The Limitations
Regulatory Pressure – Governments have moved to ban privacy coins or delist them from exchanges.
Computational Cost – Privacy features require more processing power, slowing transactions.
Despite these challenges, Monero remains the gold standard for privacy, while zk-SNARKs have been adapted into Ethereum and other smart contract platforms.
Hybrid Models & Institutional Adoption (2020–Present) – Multiple Innovations
By 2020, the crypto industry realized no single consensus model was perfect, leading to hybrid approaches:
Ethereum 2.0 (2022) – Moved to Proof-of-Stake, reducing energy use by 99%.
Polkadot & Cosmos – Created interoperable Proof-of-Stake chains with shared security.
Solana’s Proof-of-History (2020, Anatoly Yakovenko) – Added timestamped transactions to PoS for faster processing.
Algorand (2019, Silvio Micali) – Introduced Pure Proof-of-Stake (PPoS) to ensure fair validator selection.
Central Bank Digital Currencies (CBDCs) – Governments have begun experimenting with permissioned blockchains using variations of FBA and PoS.
The Future of Consensus: What Comes Next?
The arms race to replace PoW isn’t over. Researchers are exploring:
Proof-of-Space (Chia, Bram Cohen) – Uses disk storage instead of computation.
Proof-of-Elapsed-Time (Hyperledger Sawtooth, Intel) – Uses trusted hardware to verify transactions.
AI-Driven Consensus – Machine learning models to predict and validate transactions.
One thing is clear: Bitcoin’s PoW model is already obsolete. The future of digital money will be fast, scalable, and secure—without consuming all the electricity in the world.
Conclusion: The High Stakes of Digital Money
Cryptocurrency was never supposed to be just another asset class for Wall Street gamblers—it was supposed to be a revolution. A way to break free from the manipulated, debt-ridden financial system that central banks and governments have used for generations to consolidate power and strip ordinary people of their wealth. But somewhere along the way, something deeply wrong happened.
Instead of continuing to innovate, large swaths of the crypto world got stuck in a cultish devotion to Bitcoin maximalism, a mindset so rigid, so self-defeating, and so corrosive that it has done more harm to the original vision of cryptocurrency than any government regulation ever could.
The Maximalist Cancer: How Ideology Became a Threat
Bitcoin maximalism is the idea that only Bitcoin matters, that all other innovations—faster consensus mechanisms, privacy protocols, smart contracts, DAG-based systems—are not just unnecessary but evil distractions. It is a worldview that demands stagnation, as if Satoshi’s 2008 whitepaper was the final word on digital money, as if one slow, expensive, energy-guzzling dinosaur of a blockchain should be the future of world finance.
This mindset isn’t just stupid—it’s dangerous. If the maxipads win, if their tribalism crushes innovation, we will be stuck with a system that is:
Controlled by mining oligopolies instead of central banks (a distinction without a difference).
Slow, inefficient, and expensive, ensuring that only the wealthy can afford to use it.
Surveilled to hell and back, making every transaction public forever with no privacy or fungibility.
Locked into a technological dead end, while governments swoop in with Central Bank Digital Currencies (CBDCs) that offer more convenience (at the cost of absolute financial control).
Bitcoin maximalism isn’t about freedom—it’s about dogma masquerading as principle. It is a refusal to acknowledge that new ideas might be better, that consensus mechanisms like Proof-of-Stake, Federated Byzantine Agreement, or DAGs might actually improve on Bitcoin’s flaws.
And if we get this wrong—if the crypto space refuses to evolve—we will lose.
The Future of Money: Innovation or Servitude
This fight isn’t just about Bitcoin vs. Ethereum, or Proof-of-Work vs. Proof-of-Stake—it’s about who controls money itself. Either decentralization wins, and we get a financial system that is fast, private, censorship-resistant, and accessible to all, or we let corporations, governments, and surveillance-state bureaucrats co-opt the movement and turn it into another tool for control.
A world where CBDCs track your every purchase and block your transactions at will.
A world where Bitcoin’s slow and clunky nature allows regulators to push users into "trusted," permissioned alternatives.
A world where crypto is no longer a revolution, but a cautionary tale of how a movement can be hijacked by ideologues who refused to think ahead.
Bitcoin was a beginning—not an endpoint. If the crypto community abandons innovation in favor of maximalist purity tests, we deserve to lose. But if we embrace real decentralization, real privacy, and real scalability, then cryptocurrency won’t just be an investment.
It will be the defining battle for economic sovereignty in the 21st century—a battle we cannot afford to lose. Because if we do, we may never get another chance.
Excellent work, Patrick. Well-researched, this post makes many valid points.
You have rightly displayed the central theme with all its warts: that cryptocurrencies represent an arms race. History shows us that every arms race has no finish line, with successive technologies leapfrogging to a transitory dominance. I absolutely agree that the human race must look to constantly innovate, rather than shackle itself to a single technology forged at a single point in time.
That said, and whilst I consider myself a tonsured, sandal-wearing novice in cryptocurrencies, I would still challenge two premises: (i) that BTC is a currency to be used for commerce, and (ii) that a well-funded attacker could take over more than 50% of the network’s total hash rate.
As for the first, I see BTC as an asset class (albeit one that is rapidly becoming a dinosaur) and not a currency. For this reason, arguments around transaction speeds become less relevant, as people and companies HODL to prevent their past time being stolen through time-travelling fiat printing machines.
As for well-funded attackers, I would love to see how well funded the attacker(s) would have to be. There may a natural barrier to entry, in the absence of collusion by superpowers or megabanks, and we all know there is much precedent for such collusion. Still, I like to see the numbers.
Brilliant piece here - thanks so much for writing it! I learned a lot. I would love to see you debate GMoney or Michael Saylor or any of the other die-hard maxis. Seems like they could learn a lot, too.
On the issue of privacy, I'd like to refer you to section 10 of Satoshi Nakamoto's white paper: 'The traditional banking model achieves a level of privacy by limiting access to information to the parties involved and the trusted third party. The necessity to announce all transactions publicly precludes this method, but privacy can still be maintained by breaking the flow of information in another place: by keeping public keys anonymous. The public can see that someone is sending an amount to someone else, but without information linking the transaction to anyone. This is similar to the level of information released by stock exchanges, where the time and size of individual trades, the "tape", is made public, but without telling who the parties were.' Looking forward to talking! Thanks for all your great work!